Ramiel opened the chest.
But it wasn't a chest.
It was a coffin.
Golden. Shining. The hinges groaned with an ancient sound, as if they hadn't moved in centuries. The runes carved on the lid seemed to move if you stared at them, twisting, changing shape.
Ramiel took a step back.
Tori growled. A deep sound, from the chest.
Tortu retreated into his shell. Only his eyes peeked out, blinking slowly.
Nakk climbed onto Ramiel's shoulder, nervous, her legs gripping his clothes.
"A coffin? Here?"
The lid was slightly open. A faint light escaped through the crack. It wasn't cold, like the mushrooms' light. It was warm. Golden. Like a sunrise.
Ramiel swallowed. Carefully, he pushed the lid open.
The smell hit him first. Not rot. Incense. Dried flowers. Something ancient and preserved.
And he saw her.
A girl.
She couldn't have been more than fifteen. Her hair was long, golden like the gold itself, spread over the white velvet inside. Her face was beautiful, perfect, as if sculpted by an artist who knew every line, every curve. High cheekbones. Lips slightly parted. Long eyelashes on pale cheeks.
She wore a simple white tunic that contrasted with the coffin's luxury.
She looked dead.
But she was so beautiful Ramiel couldn't look away.
"Who... who are you?"
She didn't respond.
Tori approached. He sniffed the edge of the coffin. Backed away. No smell of death. No energy escaping. Only... stillness. Peace. Silence.
"She's dead."
Nakk chirped. Shaking her head. Once, twice, three times.
"What do you mean, no? She's not moving. Not breathing."
Tortu tapped the ground with his foot. Thump, thump, thump! Getting attention. He pointed at something with his head.
The inside of the coffin.
It was gold.
Not loose coins. The whole coffin. The coffin was bigger on the inside than on the outside—Ramiel could have sworn that wasn't possible.
Ramiel activated his interface. His fingers trembled.
ESTIMATED GOLD COIN VALUE DETECTED: 124,000,000 COINS
One hundred twenty-four million.
Ramiel couldn't breathe.
"One hundred... twenty-four... million..."
He could buy the best armor in the game.
"We have to get her out."
—
Between Tori and Ramiel, they managed to get the coffin out of the room.
It wasn't easy.
It weighed as if it were filled with lead, and even more with the golden girl's body. Tori pulled from the front, his hooves digging into the stone floor. Ramiel pushed from behind, his legs burning, sweat dripping down his forehead.
Nakk went ahead, lighting the way with her own light—she had learned she could do that, that her purple body glowed softly when she wanted. Tortu brought up the rear, slow but steady.
They made it out to the valley.
They left it in a clearing, near the river. The water sang as it hit the stones. The flowers glowed softly. The digital sun was high.
The girl was still motionless inside the coffin.
Ramiel leaned on one knee, catching his breath.
"I'm sorry, but... we can't carry her. She's dead. And this is too heavy."
He looked at his creatures. They looked at him.
No one said anything. Because they couldn't. But Nakk's eyes, all eight of them, seemed sad.
"Let's leave her here. Someone will find her. Or the world will reclaim her. I don't know."
They began to empty the coffin.
They laid her in a grave they dug.
Once that was done, they started trying to break the coffin into pieces. The coffin crumbled into coins and ingots and jewels.
Ramiel couldn't believe it. There was at least 20 thousand dollars or more there, in the real world.
Tori carried what he could with his mouth, with his hooves, piling mounds to one side.
Nakk wrapped coins in webs, making perfect packages, tied with terrifying precision.
Tortu simply sat on a pile. His enormous shell covered the coins like a shield.
They were so focused on the gold...
That they didn't see when the girl opened her eyes.
—
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"
The voice cut through the valley like thunder.
Ramiel jumped. His heart pounded against his chest.
Tori roared. A real roar that made the nearby flowers tremble.
Nakk fell on her back. All eight legs in the air, flailing messily.
Tortu hid in his shell. Completely disappeared. Only a turtle-bunker remained.
The girl was standing.
Out of the coffin.
Her golden hair floated as if there were wind, though there wasn't. It moved in slow, impossible waves. Her eyes, the same color, blazed with fury.
"That is MY coffin! Those are MY belongings! THIEVES!"
Ramiel tried to speak. He opened his mouth. Nothing came out.
She took a step. Then another.
Her white tunic, immaculate, contrasted with the chaos.
"Do you know how long I was in there? Do you know what it's like to wake up and see strangers looting the only thing I have left?"
Another step.
"I am the—"
And then...
She fell flat on her face.
Thud.
Silence.
Only the river, singing.
Ramiel looked at his creatures. They looked at him.
Nakk, still on her back, moved a leg as if to say "what happened?"
Tori approached the girl. He sniffed her. Raised his head and looked at Ramiel.
"Do we help her?"
Tori shrugged. He couldn't, but the gesture was clear: "how should I know, you decide."
—
Ramiel carried her.
She weighed less than the coffin, but more than he expected. She was light, but solid. Real.
He took her to his cottage. Laid her on the wooden floor, on a pile of blankets he had acquired somehow—the inventory generated basic things over time.
She was breathing. She was alive. But weak. Very weak.
"Okay. We need to give her something. Food?"
Nakk pointed at the mushrooms stored in a corner.
"Mushrooms?"
Nakk nodded. Seven times. Excited.
"And soup?"
Tortu poked his head out of his shell. Approved with a slow movement.
Ramiel did what he knew.
He prepared mushroom soup. He cut them, boiled them with spring water. Added a piece of scorpion, finely chopped. Threw in herbs they thought were good. And, as a final touch, a bit of the homemade potion he used for his creatures when they were weak.
It wasn't medicine. It was a concoction. But it always worked.
He brought it to the girl.
She, semi-conscious, drank.
And then...
"BLEEEARGH!"
She vomited it all out.
Literally. All of it.
On Ramiel. On the floor. On Nakk, who was nearby being curious.
Nakk screeched, offended. She jumped back. Wiped herself with one leg, then another, then all of them. Her eight eyes narrowed in an expression of absolute disgust.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I thought it would help!"
"What the HELL did you give me?" she groaned.
Her voice was hoarse. Weak. But furious.
"Soup. Mushroom. And scorpion. And a potion."
"Potion? POTION? That was poison mixed with disgust!"
She sat up as best she could. The effort cost her. Her arms trembled.
Her golden hair was now dirty, disheveled, covered in soup remnants. Clumpy. Disgusting.
Her white tunic... better not describe it.
But her eyes still blazed.
"Do you know who I am?"
"No."
"I am Doral. The goddess of this world. The creator of Sword Soul."
Ramiel blinked.
"Come again?"
—
"I am A GODDESS. This is MY world. You should treat me with respect."
Ramiel looked her up and down.
Dirty hair. Stained clothes. Vomit remnants at the corner of her lips. On the floor of his cottage, on old blankets, surrounded by a bull, a turtle, and a spider who looked at her with curiosity.
"Sure. And I'm the emperor of the galaxy."
"Don't mock me!"
She tried to stand. Couldn't. Fell again. Her head hit the floor with a dull thud.
"Ow..."
"Are you okay?"
"No. I'm not okay. It's... it's the curse..."
"The what?"
"My brother. Cermilio. He stole my power. Divided it into nine parts. Nine programs. Scattered them across the world, in the dirty lands—or as you know it, the real world."
"And?"
Doral stared at him. She concentrated on something. Closed her eyes. Furrowed her brow.
And then Ramiel saw something he hadn't seen before.
Above Doral's head, floating, a number.
LEVEL 1
"Level 1? A goddess at level 1?"
"My power was stolen. What did you expect? That I'd be level 99 SSS?"
"Well... yes?"
"Well, no. Now I'm this. A powerless goddess, trapped in a coffin, waking up just to have some idiot give me scorpion soup."
She put a hand to her stomach. Made a face. Paled.
"And by the way, that thing you gave me... it's still making me gag."
"I'm sorry."
"You should be."
—
A few minutes passed.
Doral recovered slowly. Sitting up. Leaning her back against the wooden wall.
Nakk approached cautiously. Offered her a clean leaf. Doral took it, wiped her face.
"Thank you," she said, surprisingly soft.
Nakk chirped happily.
"Listen to me," Doral said, recovering some dignity. She straightened her back. Despite the mess, despite everything, there was something about her that commanded respect. "You can see me. That's already rare. No one can see me. No one except..."
"Except?"
"Someone who also has a rare, golden fragment. Or someone... special."
Ramiel didn't understand. But she continued.
"My brother trapped me. Spread my power into nine programs. Nine people in the real world have them now. They don't know it, probably. But they have them. If I recover those programs, I recover my power."
"And what do I have to do with this?"
"You can help me. Find the nine. Face them. Recover what's mine."
Ramiel crossed his arms.
"In exchange for what?"
Doral smiled.
Despite the vomit. Despite the disaster. Despite everything, her smile was beautiful. Bright. Like the gold of her coffin.
"The coffin. The one you tried to steal. It's full of gold. But it's not ordinary gold. That gold can be taken to the real world."
Ramiel froze.
"The real world?"
"Yes. That coffin is special. Everything inside it can cross over. Because it was created at the boundaries, at the edge between worlds. If you help me, I'll let you keep it. All of it. You can sell it, use it, whatever you want. Your family will never go hungry again."
Ramiel's heart beat faster. He could hear it in his ears.
One month of light was a blue crystal.
This was... this was a whole lifetime.
But something didn't add up.
"Why me?" he asked. "There are stronger people. S, Double S. Triple S. People with guilds, with armies, with decades of experience. Why a level eleven with three common creatures?"
Doral stared at him.
Her golden eyes seemed to see right through him.
"Because you're the only one who can see me. Because you entered a place where no one enters. A dungeon and hidden room, in a junk graveyard, in a valley that doesn't appear on any map. How did you get there? And how does your inventory appear here?"
Ramiel thought.
"I don't know. I just appear here. Nakk found a door. We opened it."
"Nakk found it. And you opened it."
Doral pointed at the creatures.
"Your creatures chose you. You didn't tame them. You didn't buy them. You didn't force them. They chose you. That doesn't happen."
"What does that mean?"
"That there's something in you. Something even you don't know. Something they saw, that the system detected, that that room was waiting for."
Silence.
The river sounded outside. The flowers glowed.
Ramiel looked at Tori. The bull, enormous, black, powerful, nodded slowly. Once. Firm.
He looked at Tortu. The wise turtle, slow, eternal, moved his head in approval. His old eyes said "yes."
He looked at Nakk. The curious spider, agile, offended by the soup, made a gesture with a leg. Like saying "how should I know, but I trust you, idiot."
"And if I fail?" Ramiel asked.
"Then I'll rot here. Or in another coffin. And you'll stay poor. Your family will stay in misery."
"And if I succeed?"
"I'll make you stronger than you can imagine. I'll give you access to places no one else can see. And your family will live like kings."
Ramiel extended his hand.
Doral took it.
Her hand was small. Cold. But firm.
"Deal."
"Deal."
And then Doral let go of his hand, turned, and vomited again.
BLEEEARGH!
This time, just a little. Bile. Water. Remnants.
Nakk retreated quickly, all legs on alert.
"Sorry," Doral groaned, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "It's still... still lingering..."
Ramiel couldn't help it.
He smiled.
Then he laughed.
Then he laughed out loud.
"What are you laughing at?" Doral growled, furious but also blushing. "This isn't funny!"
"I know. I know. But it's just... a goddess. A level 1 goddess vomiting scorpion soup. It's... it's..."
"Shut up!"
Tori mooed. He seemed to be laughing too. Or at least, his version of laughter.
Tortu poked his head out. Blinked. Slowly.
Nakk, from a safe corner, did a somersault. Eight legs, one somersault. It was ridiculous. It was adorable.
Doral looked at them all.
And then, despite everything, she smiled.
"By the way," she said, recovering what little pride she had left. "The soup thing... don't tell anyone."
Ramiel wiped a tear from laughing.
"Promise."
Outside, the digital sun kept shining.
The river kept singing.
And in a small wooden cottage, a young man, three creatures, and a vomiting goddess had just made a deal that would change their lives forever.