Surviving without God

Eddie opened his eyes in absolute darkness and began praying desperately.

For his small house, bought with honestly saved money. For that warm bed... He prayed that this awakening would take place there.

But his back felt only damp, freezing stone. The moment he inhaled, a vile stench filled his nose.

— Kh-h...

His body throbbed with sharp pain. Wounds from a brutal fight with the bandits. And whenever his captors grew bored, they called it “revenge” for the men he had killed and beat him senseless.

If not for the “god” protecting him, Eddie would already be a corpse.

But there was something far worse than pain.

Ignorance.

What time it was. Where he was. Why the gang had kidnapped him. Whether Dorin had escaped safely.

He knew nothing.

The only thing he had learned over the past few days was that behind the veil of darkness were several others in the same condition. And at certain intervals, one of them would vanish, led away by a jailer.

By what criteria? In what order?

Eddie didn’t know.

But minutes after the footsteps faded—

— AAAAAAAAAAAGH!

A distant scream would echo. The kind you feared even in dreams.

And then the sound of teeth crushing bone.

The wet tearing of flesh.

“...What the hell is going on here?”

He didn’t know the details. But one thing was clear.

If he did nothing, he would die like a dog.

So whenever strength returned to his limbs, Eddie ground the leather bindings at his wrists against jagged stone edges. Blood streamed. Skin tore open.

“Got it!”

Now.

At the perfect moment—when the jailer’s faint snoring could be heard.

He freed his legs. Tore off the blindfold.

For the first time, he could see the cell.

“There has to be something.”

Even if the sky collapses, there’s a crack somewhere.

Even in a tiger’s den, you survive if you stay calm.

He muttered those words as he searched frantically.

A loose bar. A narrow gap. Even a dropped fork.

Anything that could offer hope.

.

.

.

His search ended abruptly.

His fingertips brushed beneath the bars—and touched something smooth.

“What is this?”

He lowered himself and peered into the narrow gap.

Recognition hit him.

“A magic circle...?”

Under the bars, complex formulas and intricate patterns were etched densely into the floor.

Not random scribbles.

A high-grade containment magic circle. The kind used in Public Safety Bureau detention facilities.

Eddie’s eyes trembled.

“Damn it... Why is something like that here...”

A magical device.

A malicious one.

If it detected an impact above a certain threshold, it would trigger an alarm and discharge electricity.

Eddie had spent enough nights in holding cells in his youth to recognize it instantly.

“...There’s no getting out.”

Strength drained from him.

Even Aura wouldn’t break this device.

If he couldn’t shatter it with his bare hands, escape was impossible.

No wonder the jailer slept so carelessly.

“...Is this really the end?”

He collapsed onto the floor with a groan.

The pain in his body didn’t matter anymore.

The blood seeping from torn wrists didn’t matter.

He would die soon anyway.

His gaze fell on the torn bindings.

If the jailers saw that, they wouldn’t leave him alone.

They would beat him to death.

Or drag him away and feed him to the “monster.”

Eddie pressed his face into his hands.

In the darkness, he recalled a face he had tried so hard to forget.

“My lady...”

Yor Ladenbach.

If only he could see her one more time.

As moisture gathered in the corners of his eyes—

Click—

With a soft mechanical sound, the bars began to slide aside.

— ...?

He blinked repeatedly.

It had to be a dream.

But it wasn’t.

The grate, protected by a flawless magical security system, opened without triggering a single alarm.

“What...?”

Eddie stood up, stunned.

“Is someone helping me escape?”

It was hard to believe.

But he couldn’t waste the chance.

***

“...Ridiculously huge.”

Gunther advanced slowly, surveying his surroundings.

This bunker, once a secret rebel base, was far too vast for a mere gang.

“Halfway through already.”

Whether thanks to Art of the Pure Heart or simply repeated exposure to life-threatening situations, Gunther remained calm as he walked through an underground space crawling with bandits.

The infiltration had been almost too easy.

“...Strange.”

Before entering, what worried him most were magical surveillance devices.

Border City, ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) with its advanced magi-engineering, had plenty of tools—camera-like constructs, thermal sensors, motion detectors.

Expensive.

But a gang profiting alongside Luthien could afford a few.

That was why he had activated “Frost Concealment,” expending precious mana.

And yet—

“...What the hell?”

Every magical device along the corridors had been deactivated.

As if someone had deliberately made the invasion possible.

For a moment, he considered a trap.

But—

“Would they really bait it this obviously?”

He thought briefly, then continued.

He had come this far.

There was only one direction left.

— Ugh... my finger... my finger...

— Finger?

Gunther waved the dagger before the bandit’s eyes.

— If your head comes off, I doubt you’ll care about a finger.

— H-hiik!

Loyalty ended there.

The structure of the facility.

Numbers and positioning.

The location of the “dining hall” deep inside.

The prison’s location.

And what was truly happening here.

The bandit spilled everything, eyes fixed on his severed finger.

— That’s everything! I swear! I told you everything! So bandage it... bandage it! I’ll bleed out!

Gunther looked at him in open disbelief.

This bastard had helped kidnap people and feed them to a monster.

Now he trembled over blood loss.

— You promised! You said you’d spare me if I told you! Swore on your father’s honor!

Gunther stood slowly.

— Yes. I did.

Hope lit the man’s face.

Gunther’s hand moved.

— ...Kh!

[The King of Ninety-Nine Defeats respects your decision]

[Alphonse of Red Street comments that this bastard likely never kept a promise in his life]

[The Drug-Addicted Saint smiles, pleased by your mercilessness toward villains]

Gunther flicked blood from the blade.

“All necessary information obtained. Time to accelerate.”

The gang was large enough to cooperate with Luthien, but at night their guard inevitably thinned. Many were busy managing establishments.

Key figures were likely absent.

No more need for stealth.

Break through. Rescue Eddie.

...Step. Step.

Footsteps approached from the corridor’s end.

Gunther stilled.

But—

“Mm?”

The sound was odd.

Dragging. Uneven.

Like someone supporting another.

Ding!

[Personal Scenario Updated!]

✔ Eddie Found!

— Get him out of here.

Gunther’s expression turned strange.

“...How?”

Did he escape on his own?

.

.

.

Eddie didn’t recognize me at first.

Dim lighting. Unreal situation.

— You bastard!

He rushed at me with a sword he’d somehow acquired—then froze inches from my face.

Drip.

Blood fell from the blade’s tip.

Only then did his eyelids tremble.

— G-Gunther?

— Eddie.

I never thought I’d see this idiot look so happy to see me.

Usually he only glowed like that when groveling before Yor.

His face was even more battered than usual.

Relief filled it.

I felt faint pity mixed with disgust.

— How... how are you even... no, seriously, how did you get here?

— Let’s say you’re lucky to have a cousin.

— Oh God, Brody...

He clasped his hands in prayer.

Blood crusted his knuckles.

But he was smiling.

I patted his shoulder.

— Didn’t expect you to break out on your own. Maybe you didn’t need me.

— I thought I was dead. The cell just opened... Wait. Was that you?

— No.

A hypothesis solidified.

I looked over his shoulder.

.

.

.

Three figures stood there.

One woman. Two men.

All contractors.

— Cellmates?

— Right.

— Then follow me.

We couldn’t stand in the corridor.

I led them to the storage room I had used earlier.

I watched carefully as they passed the two corpses.

.

.

.

The woman remained calm.

The two men’s eyelids trembled.

“One combatant. Two non-combatants.”

Having a divine contract did not make you a warrior.

[Owner of the Small Furnace looks at you anxiously]

[Starter Enthusiast lowers his head nervously]

Likely a blacksmith and a cook.

Both injured.

Hardly able to walk.

I glanced at Eddie.

— What’s that look?

— Nothing.

Just gained a little respect.

Memories from another timeline surfaced.

“Dangerous! Everyone back! I’ll handle this one!”

“They’re my subordinates! I’m responsible!”

Stubborn. Annoying.

Months beside him, and not a single pleasant memory.

But there was a reason I came.

Not just the reward.

— Eddie.

— If there’s a plan, I’ll follow it.

— Leave.

I pointed toward the path I’d cleared.

— It should be safe.

— Sounds like you’re not coming.

— Scared?

He shot me a look.

Not the time for jokes.

“I’ll need mobility against the Mother.”

The two other former prisoners spoke nervously:

— W-we should leave quickly, right?

— Anyone who wants to stay can. Anyone who wants to go, go.

They kept glancing toward the corridor.

Terrified.

But the woman calmly looted daggers from the corpses.

Good.

Eddie would manage with her.

— You won’t get far with them wandering. Find a nearby building. Hide.

I tore off a piece of my sleeve.

— Hang this from a window. I’ll find you. If things go bad, run. Reach the nearest lift and you’ll be safe.

— Lift? ...Damn. Lower City.

His face darkened.

But in a heartbeat, he became the leader responsible for twenty subordinates.

— Good luck. And one more thing.

— ?

— Watch out for a man with an X-shaped scar.

— Scar?

— I don’t know if he’s here, but his skills are beyond reason. He caught me before I could even strike.

Eddie overestimated me.

He’d seen me in divine frenzy against paladins.

Still—

I memorized the detail.

— Understood.

— See you outside.

We bumped fists.

They left.

Ding!

[Personal Scenario Updated!]

You have located your rescue target, Eddie, and secured his escape route. However, you remain. To uncover the source of darkness lurking within this suspicious underground and sever the bonds of evil. A truly heroic choice... yet should you fail, your name will forever echo as a muffled whisper within someone’s entrails...

“...Now it threatens me.”

I smirked.

Isn’t that the same bastard that prints snarky messages at death?

Regardless.

The entrance was clear.

Even if I missed someone, Eddie and the female contractor would manage.

Now—

Straight to the “dining hall.”

Kill the Mother raised by the Luthien Theocracy.

“A spider-form monster... likely the Mother of the Evil God from the Cult of Abundance.”

Among Luthien’s seven cults, the Cult of Abundance practiced “Feast”—direct feeding of victims to the Mother.

“A spider-type Evil God... is it that one?”

I looked down unconsciously.

I had a guess what lurked below.

I reviewed its attack patterns.

Reality wouldn’t follow game mechanics exactly.

But weak points should overlap.

“I have to kill it.”

With my current stats, difficult.

But with “Godslayer,” possible.

I accelerated—

Ding!

[Personal Scenario Failed!]

A message I did not expect.

I froze.

Eyes locked on the next line.

— Eddie has died.