[Quest: The Step of *** God]
Description:
The gods have fallen silent, yet their footprints remain etched upon this land. Time may erase their faces and names, but their will has never faded.
In ancient murals, in forgotten prophecies, a trial awaits those with the courage to step forward.
Are you willing to follow the trail of the divine beast and grasp the truth that has been sealed away for generations?
Objective: Discover the identity of the mysterious god.
Ren stared at the words on the quest board, feeling a strange pull within.
He wasn't sure if it was curiosity or just an inexplicable sense that he needed to know more.
He pressed [Accept].
The moment the confirmation rang out, the priest before him closed his eyes, as if he had already foreseen this decision.
Lowering his head slightly, his deep voice carried a solemn reverence.
"Then listen well. This is an old tale, one that dates back to when the gods still walked this land."
The candlelight in the church flickered as shadows stretched across the stone walls, shrouding the space in an air of secrecy.
"He was the one who paved the way." The priest's voice deepened, his gaze drifting to an era long past.
"When darkness covered the world, when humans were weak and lost amidst the dangers that lurked, it was he who guided them."
His voice echoed through the silent church, blending with the wavering candle flames.
"He taught them how to hunt, so they would never starve. He taught them how to farm, so they could nurture life.
He blessed the brave warriors, so they could rise to defend their own.
And he....he was the one who carved the path that led mankind out of the age of darkness."
The priest paused, as if allowing his words to sink deep into Ren's mind.
"But when the light spread across the land, he vanished. No one knows where he went, nor if he still exists… or if he has become nothing more than a legend.
Yet his footsteps remain, carried by the howling winds, echoed in the strides of the wild beasts, reflected in the eyes of those who dare to face trials."
The priest's deep eyes met Ren's, the candlelight reflecting in his solemn gaze. His voice lowered, tinged with an almost melancholic reverence.
"His name… his form… have faded with time's relentless tide. But the faithful are never meant to forget."
He reached out, his fingers tracing the image on an ancient mural, an enormous beast with piercing eyes, as if trying to grasp the lingering remnants of a long-lost memory.
"Time may erase all, yet his will remains. But a will without a name...can it still be remembered?"
Turning back to Ren, the priest's voice resounded like a bell tolling within the sacred hall.
"Will you help me… help the people here… remember him through a name?"
Ren stood still, staring into the priest's deep eyes.
The question echoed in his mind, like a whisper from a distant past, from mysteries he had never considered.
A name… to call upon a forgotten god.
His gaze drifted back to the mural.
The massive creature in the painting, its thick, night-colored fur, its sharp gaze piercing through the darkness… A chill ran down his spine.
"Then… where do I start?"
The priest's lips curled into a faint smile, as if he had been waiting for this question.
**"Listen to the stories these walls have to tell. Follow the traces that time has yet to erase.
If you have the courage, the god shall grant you a trial."**
He turned and walked deeper into the sanctum. The candle flames wavered, and the shadows within seemed to deepen.
"Go now, seeker of the god's footsteps."
Ren gave a firm nod before silently leaving the church.
Outside, the morning light had begun creeping through the worn buildings, casting a soft glow over the cobblestone streets.
Yet even as he stood under the warmth of daylight, a faint chill lingered down his spine.
The priest's words repeated in his mind.
"Follow the traces that time has yet to erase…"
Where were these traces? In this town? Or somewhere farther, hidden deeper?
Ren clenched his fist, hesitating for only a moment before stepping forward. He didn't know if he could find the answer right away, but he knew one thing, he couldn't stop here.
Then… where would his first step be?
His eyes swept over the familiar streets, yet today, everything seemed to hold a different meaning.
Perhaps, the traces he sought had always been right in front of him.
"Their faces and names may have faded with time… but… their legends still remain in the stories." Ren murmured.
Then, a spark of realization lit up in his eyes.
"Stories… That's right… I can follow the stories."
His fingers tightened into a fist as if a door had just opened within his mind.
The gods had vanished, yet the tales of their deeds remained. Was that not the clearest footprint of all?
He needed to find those who still remembered.
The storytellers, the rumor-mongers, or even the dust-covered tomes buried in the town's libraries.
If time couldn't erase them completely, then surely, somewhere in this town, scattered remnants still remained, waiting to be pieced together.
Taking a deep breath, Ren began walking.
This quest was not about strength. It was about patience, about listening.
And he would start in the place where stories traveled the fastest—the marketplace.
Ren made his way through the bustling open-air market, where a constant hum of activity filled the air.
The calls of merchants, the laughter of players, and the mingling scent of food created a lively scene.
He wasn't sure exactly what he was looking for, but he had a feeling that the answer lay somewhere amidst the whispers, amidst the stories the townsfolk passed down.
In a quieter corner of the marketplace, hidden beneath the morning mist, stood a small stall, a humble stand selling herbs and faded protective charms, their colors worn with age.
Behind the counter, an old woman sat still, her sharp eyes hidden beneath the layered wrinkles of age, as if she had witnessed too many changes in this world.
As Ren flipped over an old wooden talisman, the carved characters on it faded with time, a deep voice suddenly rang out:
"You are searching for something, aren't you?"
Ren froze for a moment. That question did not sound like an ordinary sales pitch. After a brief hesitation, he decided to ask:
"Have you ever heard of a guardian deity of this land?"
The old woman slowly narrowed her eyes, her bony fingers tapping lightly on the wooden counter as if sifting through distant memories.
"When I was a child, my grandmother once told me about a great being. It was not human, yet it protected mankind from the era of darkness. An old tale… long forgotten by most."
She paused, the corners of her lips curving into a faint, enigmatic smile.
"But there is something… that still remains."
She reached beneath the counter, touching something hidden deep within. Her voice was slow, but carried an unusual weight.
"If you truly care, I can show you."
Ren gave a slight nod.
From beneath the counter, the old woman retrieved an ancient talisman, its wooden surface worn and faded by time. Upon it was an indistinct engraving—a colossal creature with eyes that shone like stars and a thick, fur-covered body.
"They call it by many names, but no one knows its true one," the old woman murmured. "All that is certain is that it was once the guardian of this land… until it disappeared."
Ren held the talisman, feeling the rough texture of the wood beneath his fingertips. But beyond these vague stories, he had yet to uncover anything concrete.
"Is there anyone who knows more about this story?" Ren asked.
The old woman chuckled softly, her gaze drifting toward a distant memory.
"The oldest in town might know, or those who have wandered across these lands."
Ren tightened his grip on the talisman, tracing the faded carvings worn down by time.
The indistinct depiction of the great creature stirred a strange sense of familiarity within him, as if he had seen it somewhere before…
…or perhaps, it was merely a faint shadow within forgotten tales.
He looked up, scrutinizing the old woman's face.
"Those who have wandered across these lands… who are you referring to?"
The old woman did not answer immediately. She simply smiled, a smile tinged with something unreadable.
"Those who walk between two worlds, belonging to neither, yet witnessing all. Those who carry a grand purpose from the gods… Plaedem."
She looked at Ren with an inscrutable expression.
"Echoes of the Veil… the voices from the hidden barriers… these people are often called Plaedem."
Ren frowned slightly. That cryptic response only raised more questions in his mind.
But before he could ask further, the old woman ushered him out of the shop.
Ren left the stall and continued his inquiries throughout the marketplace.
He sought out the town's elders, hoping they could recall ancient legends.
Yet each only recounted scattered fragments of stories, none containing enough information to piece together the full picture.
"We no longer worship the old gods," an elderly man said. "The murals in the sanctum are the only remnants left."
He even tried asking children, as they sometimes knew stories that adults overlooked.
But all he received were broken retellings, like a game of whispers distorted over time.
The traces were too faint…
Ren furrowed his brows. If no one in town remembered, then where should he search next?