Chapter 108: THE FIRST FOLLOWERS AND A SAINTESS’S BILL

I was still sitting cross-legged on the clean stone floor when the next system window appeared without asking permission. It had become something of a bad habit of this system: every time I thought I could breathe easy, something else followed.

[New Quest Received: Spreading the Moonlight]

[Task: Increase the followers of the Goddess Selene. Followers may come from any race, players and NPCs alike.]

[Tier I: 10 Followers (0/10)]

[Tier II: ??? (Locked)]

[Reward: ???]

"Followers," I muttered, staring at the rows of question marks. "So now I’m the founder of a cult?"

Naturally, no one answered. Only the tower bell’s toll echoed softly, like the stifled laughter of someone who already knew how this story would end.

I sighed and began to count, because counting was the only way I knew to calm my head. Ten people. One was a sure thing, namely myself, if the system counted a Saintess as a follower. But the column below showed 0/10, so apparently the Goddess didn’t think so. The remaining nine had to be found from scratch.

The list of candidates surfaced in my mind one by one. Mira would certainly be willing, although I doubted whether a Vampire whose strongest hours were the night should be called a follower of the Moon Goddess or already half-cursed by her. Alya, Yuna, Azalea, and Rara could be persuaded, as long as I was ready to answer a thousand questions about why their brother suddenly had a religion. Madam Marta, the owner of the "Silver Moon" inn, would probably be delighted if her inn’s name finally had a reason. The rest, anyone at all. Players, NPCs, an old man who happened to pass by.

Then a bigger question crept in: where would they pray?

I looked around the church. Clean, quiet, and beautiful in its own way, but located in the middle of the Forsaken Forest full of undead and wolves, three hours’ journey from the nearest castle. No sane person would walk here just to pray, let alone with wailing ghosts immune to physical attacks roaming its approach.

As if hearing my thoughts, the altar before me glowed softly, and another window opened.

[Temple Relocation Function Available.]

[The temple may be moved to any location owned by the player, or permitted by its owner.]

[Warning: Relocation can only be performed once.]

"Moved," I repeated, and a small smile appeared on my face. "Then it’s obvious."

I needed a place that was quiet, safe from monsters, and surrounded by people willing to believe in something without asking for proof. One name immediately came to mind.

Silvergrass Village.

A small village on a lakeshore with an old watermill that was now my base. I’d lived there long enough to know its carpenter, its goat-herding children, and the bread-seller woman who always slipped in an extra piece every time I passed. My reputation there was fairly high too, whether because I’d driven a pack of wolves from their wheat fields, or because I’d made cheap potions for feverish children. For NPCs who lived on everyday kindness, things like that were worth more than a thousand titles.

I stood, brushed nonexistent dust from my robe, and checked my inventory. I still had one Return Scroll. I tore it without hesitation.

My vision flashed, and then StoneBrook Plaza appeared with all its morning bustle. Bread sellers, potion merchants, young players dashing toward the hunting gates. I reflexively pulled my hood over my head, an old habit of an Albino Elf who didn’t like being the center of attention.

Beneath the hood, a little silver glow still clung to my skin. A few players glanced over briefly, frowned, then returned to their own business, as if there were something more important they were anxiously discussing. My eyes caught a young man whispering to his friend while pointing at the sky, and a merchant shaking his head while arranging his goods. But I was too busy thinking about moving house to think about anything else.

I walked to the waypoint crystal on the east side of the plaza and paid three silver coins for the trip to Silvergrass Village. The crystal hummed briefly, and in an instant the smell of dry mud and damp wood welcomed me.

The village was exactly as I remembered. Thatched-roof houses, yellowing wheat fields, and in the distance, my old watermill turning slowly beside the small river that flowed toward the lake. The morning air felt clean, cold, and very peaceful. No one here was running around chasing EXP. No one was selling map data at high prices. Just a child herding three goats, and an old woman sweeping her yard while humming.

"Miss Syl?" The old woman lifted her head, then widened her eyes. "Goodness! You’ve changed!"

"A little," I answered, realizing my silver hair was starting to draw more stares than I wanted.

"A little?" The old woman chuckled and shook her head. "Your skin glows like the moon, child. And that outfit." She looked at the white robe trimmed in red and the slim shorts I wore from the top of my head to my boots. "Royal priestess’s attire, isn’t it?"

I nearly choked on my own saliva. "Uh, no, Granny. Just... a uniform."

"So beautiful. Come, the village chief will be delighted to see you." She swept once more, then pointed to the biggest house at the end of the road. "He’s having breakfast."

The Silvergrass village chief’s house was indeed the largest in the village, though its size was only equal to a small nobleman’s cottage. I knocked on its wooden door three times, and an old man with a white beard and a porridge spoon in his hand opened it. He stared at me for three full seconds, the spoon hanging in midair, before finally bursting into laughter.

"Miss Syl! Come in, come in! I told my wife that one day you’d return with something extraordinary. Sit down. Have you had breakfast?"

"I have, sir. Thank you." I sat on a simple wooden bench and got straight to the point, since lengthy pleasantries weren’t my specialty. "I’ve come with a request, sir. I’d like permission to use a plot of land in this village."

"Land?" His eyebrows rose. "What for? A new workshop? Is your mill not big enough?"

"For a temple."

Silence fell over the room. The village chief slowly put down his spoon.

"Whose temple?"

"The Goddess Selene’s," I answered honestly. "The Moon Goddess. I recently found an old, neglected temple in a dangerous place. I want to move it here, so that anyone who wishes to pray can come safely. No fees, no levies, and I’ll take care of everything needed."

I braced for a long answer. Negotiation, conditions, or at least a question about how a temple could be moved. But the old man only stared at me in silence, his eyes watering, then covered his face with a wrinkled palm.

"Sir? Did I..."

"Long ago," he said in a trembling voice, "my grandfather told me there once were worshippers of the Silver Mother in this village. But since the Dark Age, all prayers have been done in secret in people’s own homes. No one dared to build anything. No one dared to speak her name too loudly." He wiped his eyes and straightened his back. "Miss Syl, you don’t need to ask permission. That land belongs to everyone in this village, and if anyone has the right to use it for the Goddess, it’s you."

I blinked. I hadn’t expected it to be this fast and this warm. "I don’t want to trouble you..."

"It’s no trouble at all." He stood with an energy that didn’t match his age. "Come with me. I know the perfect place."

[Location Permission Obtained from the Silvergrass Village Chief.]

[The Village Chief offers a plot of land by the lake. Accept?]

I pressed Accept without much thought.

The land he showed me was on the lakeshore, west of my old watermill, a gentle stretch of soft grass sloping down to the water. The lake’s surface there was calm and clear, reflecting the morning sky that was returning to blue. A few old willow trees draped their branches along its edge. No monsters, no stench, only the sound of wind and the occasional waterbird.

"This used to be where we held our harvest festivals," the chief explained. "If you build the temple here, no one will object."

"Thank you, sir. This is perfect."

I walked around the plain several times, choosing the best position. I wanted the temple to face the lake so moonlight would reflect into the hall at night. I wanted enough room for an entrance path and a small garden in front. I also wanted enough distance from the villagers’ houses to keep the atmosphere quiet. After weighing the wind direction, the sun’s angle, and the distance to the watermill, I finally drove a single marker into the ground.

The moment I pressed Confirm Relocation in the window that appeared, the ground beneath my feet trembled faintly.

Silver light burst from the marker, then spread into a circle that swept across the grass. From within the light, white stone walls rose slowly, as if pulled by invisible hands. Pillars appeared, then the arched gate, a bell tower now whole and straight without the slightest crack, and a roof with no more holes. Stained-glass windows in silver and midnight blue lit up one by one along the front wall.

The process didn’t even take a minute.

When the light faded, a church stood on the lakeshore. It wasn’t as large as the Main Church of StoneBrook, but it was big enough for thirty people to pray at once, and its beauty far surpassed what I had imagined. Its walls were silvery white with the same crescent carving as on the old altar. Its wooden door was carved with circular ripples, and the bell in the tower swayed once on its own, sending a clear toll that echoed across the lake’s surface.

The village chief fell to his knees on the grass, mouth open without a sound.

"Silver Mother," he whispered. "After hundreds of years..."

I stood silently beside him, not knowing what to say. I had only moved a building, but to the people of this village, it was like someone suddenly opening the door of a house locked for centuries.

The news spread as fast as the wind. Within ten minutes, the temple’s front yard was surrounded by dozens of villagers. The bread-seller woman came carrying a small basket of warm bread as an offering. The old yard-sweeping granny came with her grandchild. The goat-herding children stood in a row at the entrance with sparkling eyes, while the farmers, usually busy in the fields, set down their hoes and came with folded hands.

One by one they entered, bowed before the altar, and prayed in low voices.

I stared at the number changing in the corner of my vision.

[Followers of the Goddess Selene: 1/10... 4/10... 7/10... 10/10!]

[Tier I Quest Complete!]

[Tier II Quest Unlocked: Gather 100 Followers of the Goddess Selene.]

The number kept climbing even after passing ten. Thirty. Forty-five. Fifty. Sixty. Then it stopped when the first wave of villagers finished praying and returned to their own activities.

[Current Followers: 60/100]

"Sixty," I murmured, barely believing it. "In ten minutes."

It turned out villagers were easier to win over than players. They needed no reasons or rewards. They only needed a place, and someone brave enough to open it for them.

I weighed for a moment whether I should stay and greet them one by one, but then decided otherwise. This temple wasn’t only for me. Let the number run on its own, let the news spread from mouth to mouth, and let any players who happened to pass by discover it in their own ways. Forty more followers were only a matter of time.

I stepped in through the ripple-carved door, past the rows of villagers who bowed to make way, and stood before the altar, which now looked far grander than before. The silver glow in its crescent carving greeted me like an old friend.

The moment my palm touched its surface, a large panel appeared with a neatly arranged menu.

SILVERGRASS MOON TEMPLEOwner: Syl (Saintess of the Moon Goddess) Temple Tier: 1 Followers: 60 / 100 Building Status: Private Building (self-managed)

Available Upgrades:

Prayer Hall Expansion (capacity 30 → 80): 800 Gold CoinsHealing Altar (HP/MP regeneration buff for visitors): 1,200 Gold CoinsMoon Archive Library (stores ancient manuscripts, readable by players): 1,500 Gold CoinsGuardian Bell Tower (protective aura across the village radius): 2,000 Gold CoinsLake Mirror Pier (special effects at night): 2,500 Gold CoinsWeekly Maintenance Fee: 50 Gold Coins

I read the list once, then again, and a third time slowly, hoping some zero had been mistyped.

None had.

One detail at the top of the panel made me stare longer: Private Building (self-managed). I had seen the same label on the castles of three major guilds. The Knights of the Round with their Ironhold, and two other guilds whose names I’d only heard in forum chatter. Buildings like that received no help from the system. Maintenance costs, repairs, development, everything was borne by the owner.

And the owner of this building was an alchemist whose pockets held only a few dozen gold coins.

"Wait," I muttered, raising one finger at the altar as if scolding someone. "I only wanted to move a church. I didn’t apply to be a treasurer."

The altar, of course, didn’t answer. But I was sure that somewhere far away, a Goddess was faintly smiling.

I lowered my hand and let out a sigh that sounded long even to my own ears. Two thousand gold coins for a single bell tower. Eight hundred just to expand the hall. Remembering how Arthur had been overwhelmed by the gate costs ballooning into thousands of coins, I began to understand how bitter he must have felt in his study.

But perhaps this wasn’t entirely bad news. The temple already had sixty followers, and that number would keep growing. The Goddess who chose me wasn’t a Goddess who liked poverty. There had to be a way, whether through offerings, quests, or something I didn’t yet know.

One thing was certain: I needed money. A great deal of it.

I closed the panel and looked at the villagers still praying devoutly. The bread-seller woman wiped her tears while smiling. The old granny held her grandchild’s hand tightly. The village chief was still kneeling in the front row, his shoulders trembling softly.

For that one thing alone, I had no regrets.

But counting the gold coins I needed while thinking about the daytime hunting schedule with Alya was, of course, a problem I would think about later.