It started small.
A woman whose husband was lost at sea asked for my blessing. I pressed my hand to hers and told her the tides would return him safely. The next day, he limped into port after his boat washed ashore. Pure luck? Maybe.
> [Faith Points +25 — Source: Fulfilled Prophecy]
Word spread fast after that.
The problem? I only had seven hours before my skin split and the monster came back. And there was no way in Hades I was letting anyone see that.
So I kept track. Always kept track.
The system gave me a small timer in the corner of my vision — a silent countdown.
07:00:00 → I stepped onto shore.
03:00:00 → I'd already be walking toward my hidden cove.
01:00:00 → I'd vanish completely.
By the end of the week, fishermen came to me before they sailed. Mothers brought children to touch my hands. Old sailors knelt like I was some ancient priestess come to life.
Every smile, every whispered prayer, every coin left at my borrowed room's doorstep…
> [Faith Points +3]
[Faith Points +6]
[Faith Points +11]
During the day, I made blessings and spoke to the waves; at night, the transformation took me in the safety of the sea.
By the second week, I was doing it intentionally. I'd stand at the harbor at dawn, hair loose, cloak swaying, and watch the boats leave. People liked the sight. It felt mythic.
> [Faith Points +50 — Daily Blessing Ritual Established]
Some nights, before the change hit, I'd climb the cliff above the strait, let the moonlight hit the waves, and "speak to the sea" in a language I didn't understand. The words flowed like water, heavy with power. People watching below thought it was divine speech.
> [Faith Points +70 — Awe-Inducing Spectacle]
The Faith bar ticked closer to full, and with it came something else — a faint pull toward the water, like the sea was whispering, When you're ready… come back.
The sun had dipped low, painting the harbor in gold and crimson. I glanced at the timer in the corner of my vision — 06:45:12. Not much time left.
A small crowd had gathered, drawn by whispers of the "sea maiden." I had spent the last hour blessing nets, helping fishermen tie lines, and letting mothers and children touch my hands. Faith Points were climbing fast.
Then I felt it — a tug at the edge of my senses.
Someone new. A man, taller than the others, with a lantern swinging in the twilight. He wasn't here for blessings. He was watching.
> [Warning: Human Exposure — Transformation Imminent]
My skin itched, the pulse of scales pressing beneath the surface. The timer ticked down faster in my vision.
I smiled at the crowd, casually, as if nothing was wrong. "I think I should leave for tonight," I said softly, tugging my cloak around my shoulders. The fishermen nodded, unsuspecting.
Step by step, I moved toward the dock. The lantern man's eyes narrowed, curiosity warping into suspicion. My pulse raced — if I transformed here, even one person saw me…
> 05:00:00 — Safe Distance Achieved
I slipped into the water, cool and welcoming. My legs shortened, my arms thickened, my hair bristled, and my six heads coiled silently beneath the waves.
The lantern's light danced on the surface. The man stared for a moment, then shook his head. The sea is strange tonight, he muttered, walking back to the town.
> [Transformation Complete — Human Form Lost]
[Faith Points Secured: +50]
Beneath the waves, I let out a long breath. Seven hours human. Seven hours of gathering faith. Enough to inch closer to the next rank.
And no one had seen the monster beneath the maiden.
The next morning, I surfaced just before dawn, human form already ready to slip into the harbor. The system's timer blinked in the corner of my vision — 07:00:00.
I had learned something: seven hours wasn't enough for wandering aimlessly. If I wanted to maximize Faith Points, I needed a plan.
First, the fishermen. They always came to the docks before sunrise. I could bless nets, touch lines, and offer small words of encouragement. Quick, simple, effective. +10–15 Faith Points within the first hour.
Next, the children. Mothers usually brought them to see me mid-morning, curious or hoping for a blessing. Smiles and small gestures were enough — no need for miracles. +20–25 Faith Points.
Finally, public spectacle. Toward the last two hours, I would climb to the cliff above the strait, speak to the sea, let the wind and sunlight make me look larger than life. People would gather below, whispering prayers, watching me move gracefully. +50–70 Faith Points if timed right.
> [Faith Farming Plan Established — Optimization Mode Activated]
Step by step, I memorized routes through the town. I noted the fastest ways from dock to market to cliff, places where shadows hid me if someone lingered too long. I even timed the hours I could safely vanish into the water to avoid being seen when the transformation hit.
It was meticulous, almost like preparing a battle plan. But this was a battle — against time, against my own limitations, against the system's rules.
By the third day, I had a rhythm. Seven hours. Max Faith Points. Zero exposure.
> [Daily Faith Points Estimated: +85–110]
[Progress Toward Rank 1: 35%]
And with each day, the pull of the sea beneath me grew stronger, reminding me that the monster form — my true form — waited for me.
> [System Reminder: Divine Rank Advancement Available Once Faith Bar Full]
I smiled faintly. One day soon, the timer wouldn't matter. One day soon, the strait would be mine entirely.