"Ten-san… Ten-san, wake up."
A soft voice pulled me out of the dark. I blinked, my vision wobbling as sleep faded. The first thing I saw was her face—Pearl—leaning over me with that same tired, half-annoyed, half-worried look she always had.
Light blue hair tied in a high ponytail.
Long lashes darkened with mascara.
Curves that her modest nun dress failed miserably to hide.
She tapped my forehead lightly.
"You were crying again in your sleep," she said. "Honestly, Ten-san, you're supposed to be our priest. How can you convert anyone when you start your mornings like a tragic grandpa?"
I sat up slowly, rubbing my face with two tentacle-tips.
"Sorry. Can't really control my dreams."
"You should control your work instead!" she snapped, placing her hands on her hips. "Do you know why you still have zero DP after almost two years as the Priest of Lunaria? No dedication! No focus! No discipline!"
"I am dedicated," I muttered. "I converted the entire ocean."
Pearl's eye twitched.
"Yes. Yes, you did. The whole ocean. Fish, crabs, sharks, jellyfish, the occasional drowning sailor—everyone is now a believer of the Goddess Lunaria."
She crossed her arms tightly.
"But that is not the issue."
I already knew where this was going.
Pearl inhaled sharply, pointed at me, and roared:
"You spent every single Desire Point on building mermaid orphanages!"
I raised two tentacles defensively. "They needed a safe place to live! Their queen said half their population was made of lost children—"
"Ten-san, listen to me," she groaned, massaging her forehead. "If you didn't spend your DP like a charity machine, you would have already reached one billion points by now!"
I coughed. "One… billion is a bit exaggerated—"
"No!" she said. "I calculated it myself. One billion DP. But now? Look!"
She pulled out a floating crystal tablet.
DP: 0
Her smile was brittle. "Zero, Ten-san. Zero. Z-e-r-o."
"Well," I said, trying not to sound guilty, "we do have ten beautifully built underwater churches."
"TEN?! You mean the ten churches you built in places no human can even reach?!"
"They're for mermaids—"
"And the twelve orphanages, let's not forget those!"
"They needed roofs—underwater roofs are expensive, Pearl."
She looked like she wanted to strangle me with rosary beads.
"But—don't worry," I said, sitting straighter as my tentacles subconsciously adjusted my human shape. "I have a plan."
"You always say that," she sighed. "Then we get chased out of villages, stoned, banished, or called degenerates because this land hates the Goddess of Lust."
She lowered her voice.
"Ten… maybe this land simply rejects Lady Lunaria. Maybe it's impossible."
Her words struck deeper than she intended.
Slowly, my hair shifted—splitting into writhing blue tentacles as my emotions surged. My skin shimmered like bioluminescent ink. Pearl stepped back, recognizing the change.
"I won't surrender," I whispered. "Not until I bring her back. Not until I see Celestine again."
Pearl's expression softened. "You… really love her that deeply?"
"I died for her," I said. "I'll live for her too."
Pearl exhaled gently, then nodded.
We continued traveling until the dark coast gave way to sunlight. Sand. Trees. Smoke from chimneys.
A human settlement.
Our first human village in six months.
Pearl folded her hands nervously. "Ten-san… please try not to terrify them. Or build an orphanage on your first day."
"No promises," I replied.
And together, we stepped forward—
into a village that might finally give us a chance…
—or throw us out like the last twenty.
As the wheels of our wagon finally ground to a halt at the city gate, two guards immediately stepped out to stop us.
"Halt! State your business!" one of them barked, his spear leveled at our lead horse.
I stepped out, offering my most sincere, albeit slightly rehearsed, smile. "Greetings, esteemed guards. We are but humble missionaries seeking to share the blessings of the Great Goddess Lunaria with your fine city."
The guards exchanged a look, and the one who had spoken first let out a short, mocking laugh. "Gre… Great Goddess Lunaria? Is that what the children are calling their imaginary friend now?"
"It is an ancient, venerable faith," I insisted, maintaining my composure. "We seek only to offer blessing and spiritual comfort." I then presented them with a small, polished pearl—a token of goodwill.
The guard's eyes widened slightly at the sight of the gem. He pocketed it with a practiced sleight of hand. "Well, 'ancient venerable faith' or not... the city needs all the amusement it can get. You may pass." He lowered his spear, though the sneer remained on his face. "Good luck converting anyone, priest. You'll need it."
"We understand the challenge," I replied, bowing slightly. "May the Great One bless your watch."
As the wagon creaked through the gate, I leaned back inside, a sigh escaping my lips.
Pearl, my companion, just smiled. She was many things—my attendant, my advisor, my babysitter, and the only believer strong enough to stay with me after two years of… questionable progress. She was one of the first mermaids I converted or saved, a mission I set out upon finishing training with Goddess Lunaria and rebuilding her submerged sanctuary. Mermaids are ruthlessly hunted and harvested because their tears are believed to grant youth when consumed by humans. To extract them, the mermaids are mutilated and severed. I found Pearl with the lower half of her body missing and both arms severed. The cruelty of it all is unjust. War is their pastime; women are possessions.
"You're grinding one of your tentacles again, Ten-san," Pearl said, pulling me from my thoughts.
"What? I didn't notice," I replied with a laugh. "Sorry."
"Are you thinking something perverted again?" Pearl asked, a teasing lilt in her voice. "We did five times last night, and your mind is still wandering."
She tilted her head. "Instead of Ten-san, should I call you Pervert-kun?"
I just laughed, deflecting her question. "Are we still far from the hospital?"
"We're close," she said, redirecting our wagon. Our horse snorted, as if commenting on our conversation.
When we arrived, I saw the horror of this world for the first time.
How warfare had eaten everything.
How it twisted people into savages.
How women were treated as nothing more than tools for reproduction, deprived even of the right to feel desire.
How thousands of orphans were left to grow into soldiers, children molded into weapons.
Chaos—manufactured by the God of War.
A scheme, really.
The desire for victory, the desire for more, the desire for everything… all of it fed him. As long as war raged, blessings and prayers flowed into his hands.
I didn't care.
The deities of this world all had their own goals.
Even mine.
We stepped forward, and I began my usual routine—my preaching.
"The world was created to give life to all. To grant pleasure, and peace. Commit yourself to Goddess Lunaria, and you shall find happiness."
Before I could continue, something flew straight at my head—a washbasin.
I dodged.
Well… technically my tentacle-hair dodged for me.
"No need to resort to violence," I sighed. "Our faith rejects it."
A man limped toward me—left leg cut, right arm gone.
"I swear," he shouted, voice shaking, "if I ever get out of here, I'll take revenge for my brother! I'll kill them all!"
I could see it: the black aura rising off him like smoke.
Another follower of the God of War.
Anger feeding strength, strength feeding the god, the cycle repeating.
"Simeon stop that? Turn your anger towards the enemy" a woman's voice shouted from behind me.
I turned—and froze.
I'm sorry, Priest-sama…" she spoke as soon as we held eye contact
Mature curves straining against a corset and slitted skirt.
Cleavage held back only by the stubborn will of her top.
Long purple hair braided, then gathered into a ponytail bound with golden bangles.
Eyes dull, devoid of pleasure and heavy with fatigue… yet her red lips told me that, with proper rest, she had once been a true beauty.
"No, beautiful lady, no harm done," I said quickly. "As followers of Lunaria, we spread peace and plea— I mean, happiness. Pearl, smile also."
"Beautiful? Don't flatter me, Priest," she sighed. "Don't joke with a married woman."
"I'm Julienne, by the way… wife of the village head, and the one who keeps this hospice running."
She added it gently, as if introducing herself was just another duty she carried.
Married.
My ears perked.
My kind of woman, my mind whispered.
But I could see it clearly—the aura corruption rooted deep within her.
The mark of a woman forced into servitude, ensuring these men fought another day.
That was the fate of women in this world.
A scream echoed.
The man who'd thrown the basin earlier was writhing on the bed.
His borrowed strength was being drained—time to return the "gift" the God of War had given him.
He had deemed the man useless.
Everyone rushed over.
Lady Julienne was the first to reach him.
"Lady Julienne, it's the curse again!" a nursemaid shouted.
Pearl and I remained at the edge of the bed, watching calmly.
They called it a curse, but it wasn't.
The signs were obvious—red patterns like veins crawling up his skin, frantic twitches, the wounded parts glowing as if something were being torn out from within.
Calling it a curse was simply… wrong.
I glanced at Pearl.
"I think we just found this village's 'saints,'" I murmured.
Then I looked back at Julienne—her swaying hips, her struggling composure, the chest that refused to be contained.
Maybe she felt my lingering gaze, but this time her eyes didn't glare.
They pleaded.
Help us, Priest.
I raised my hands and spoke the verses.
"Hold. Goddess of Lunaria, bless this pitiful soul. He was a believer who lost his way—grant him relief and peace."
My hand touched his forehead.
To everyone else, I appeared to be healing him.
Only Pearl knew the truth: I was cutting off the God of War's collection of strength, severing the thread he was tugging.
The impatient deity retreated instantly.
He didn't enjoy playing tug-of-war with me.
The man calmed.
The red patterns faded.
Gasps rippled through the room.
He opened his eyes.
"Who… who are you?"
"I'm just a follower of one of the old gods," I replied. "If you believe in Her and renounce war, She may return your limbs one day. Do you renounce it?"
"I… I renounce it," he said without hesitation.
"Then, as a follower of Lunaria, I grant you this temporary blessing. But be warned—if it is used for war again, it will be removed."
A small child rushed in.
"Papa! What happened?!"
The man burst into tears the moment he realized the fear in his son's voice, the weight of what he'd lost.
"Priest… please," he pleaded. "I swear—I'll follow Her. I'll renounce war forever."
I simply smiled.