Might of Players

---Werner's POV---

Mom was momentarily speechless. "This..."

The elephant in the room. It's time we finally address it. "Mom, I've known about this for a long time already. You don't need to keep telling me that it was some supermarket lottery prize," I said, my gaze calm as I ran my hand over the armrest of my wheelchair.

This wheelchair had once been like a thorn lodged deep in my heart. My family never mentioned it, and I had pretended not to know. But pretending hadn't helped any of us move forward.

Taking my mother's hands firmly in my own, I said, "I believe in this game. It will definitely help me earn enough money—not just for this wheelchair, but for a second one, a tenth one... I promise I'll give you and Dad a good life!"

Mom's eyes welled up with tears. "Werner..." She blinked rapidly, forcing them back. "Alright, alright! As long as you have this resolve, that's enough for me!"

Just then—grumble grumble.

I looked down at my stomach and hung my head in embarrassment. Of all the moments to be hungry... What terrible timing!

Mom clapped her hands as if suddenly remembering something.

"Oh my, I knew I was forgetting something. I noticed you hadn't logged out to eat, so I came to bring you some food. And then I got distracted and forgot!"

Turning around, she spotted the food lying spilled on the floor by the doorway, her face flushing with embarrassment.

"Ahem, I'll go downstairs and bring you a fresh plate."

"No need," I said, shifting myself toward the edge of the bed.

Mom quickly moved to help me, but I held up a hand. Once I was seated in my wheelchair, I looked up at her with a small smile.

"Let's go downstairs to eat together, Mom."

She was taken aback by this unexpected suggestion, her eyes widening before she began nodding fervently.

"Yes, yes, going downstairs is a great idea..."

I could tell she was excited that I was finally willing to leave the room on my own. As she started to push my wheelchair, I gently took control of it myself.

"I can navigate it," I said softly.

"I know, I know... old habits," she replied, stepping back but hovering nearby as I carefully maneuvered around the spilled food.

Her footsteps quickened with excitement as she followed. I knew she couldn't wait to share the good news with Dad.

---Viktor's POV---

I watched as the three players collapsed onto the ground, their heads hitting the floor with a dull thud.

Even though I had been dead for centuries and could no longer feel physical pain, hearing the noise still made the back of my skull ache in sympathy.

If my guess was correct, when these players logged back in tomorrow, each of them would find a goose-egg-sized lump on the back of their heads.

"I hope the one who learned the Holy Light spell has enough mana," I muttered to myself. Running out of mana was not an experience anyone enjoyed.

Even though the players were connected to their bodies only through consciousness projections, once pain stimuli reached a certain threshold, the system would shut off their pain receptors.

But the pain they could feel was enough to give them hell! And mana depletion wasn't just any kind of pain—it was the worst kind!

I ordered Edgar to carry the players' bodies into the church.

Inside, I had set up a defensive magic circle with hay spread across the ground, serving as a temporary logout point for the players.

While their bodies were unconscious, leaving them outside all night might lead to illness—another factor that could turn players away from the game.

I was extremely cautious about anything that might affect the game's early development.

Being a game developer was way harder than running The Watcher ever was. At least recruits could be manipulated with a few choice words.

Outside the church, I dragged over some stone slabs Edgar had recently cut.

The area outside the church was the place where the flow of magic was the most stable and abundant—a perfect spot for me to heal my injuries.

It also made it easier to absorb the energy emanating from the Land of the Gods and the Moon Goddess' Palace.

Or, as people on Earth called them, the sun and moon.

Sitting alone outside, I looked up at the star-filled sky and let out a deep sigh, the kind only the undead could produce.

After all, skeletons didn't actually breathe.

"Being a game developer is so hard..."

And this was only three players! They were already giving me a headache, reminding me of the chaotic days when I first established The Watcher.

But players were even more troublesome. Watcher recruits could be tricked with a few well-placed words.

With players, I not only had to deal with the internal test players but also worry about the feedback from all the "cloud players" watching online.

I extended my bony hand, conjuring a magic scroll and quill out of thin air.

"Next time they log in, I need to find a way to guide them into building houses."

I began jotting down notes. Keeping the players in the church wasn't a long-term solution. As the number of players grew, the church's limited capacity would quickly become a problem, to the point where we might even have to throw out the statue of the deity.

Halfway through my writing, I paused.

"Wait..." I looked at my notes skeptically. "With just three players, how long will it take them to build even one house?"

Unless they had powerful magic or a large workforce, neither of which they currently possessed, the housing project would have to be delayed.

I marked this task as "low priority" in my notes.

"For now, I'll let them roam freely and gather more resources. Maybe someday I'll find a dwarven craftsman or a player with a background in construction..."

I glanced at my pitiful 23 Divine Power, and the thought bubble immediately burst.

With so little Divine Power, I could barely afford to summon two more players, let alone start cherry-picking professions!

Above me, a streak of silver light arced across the night sky.

It was the Moon Goddess' chariot. Even though the Moon Goddess had long since fallen, her chariot still followed its designated route from the Moon Palace to the Land of the Gods each night, awaiting an owner who would never return.

Day after day, endlessly.

"Ah! The second day!" My spirits lifted. Luminaris should have successfully converted the Faith Power into Divine Power by now!

Opening my system panel, my eyes gleamed at the updated stats. Sure enough, my Divine Power had quietly increased.

[Name: Viktor von Vinesse]

[Divine Power: 365]

[Players: 3]

[Special Items: Int??dim??Net??Spirit??, Divine Contract (Reversed), Chronicles of Aeltia Console]

[Status: Severely Injured, Weakness, Frostbite, Burns, Poisoning, Inner Sanctum Collapse, ...]

[Summary: Dying Undead]

[Survival Time: 8 days, 13 hours, 14 minutes]

"Ah, much better!" I nodded in satisfaction before turning my attention to the other updates.

My Divine Power had skyrocketed by 342 points, fully reimbursing the cost of creating player bodies and the game interface.

But before I could celebrate, my eyes were drawn to the newly unlocked item in the "Special Items" section.

"Chronicles of Aeltia Console? Wow, it's available already?"

I had anticipated that misleading players to generate Faith Power laden with incorrect assumptions would gradually alter my divine authority and produce game-like tools.

But I hadn't expected it to happen so quickly—just one day in!

Suddenly, a piercing scream erupted from within the church.

The kind of scream you'd expect from a virtuous man waking up in the palace only to discover he'd been... altered.

Opening the door, I was immediately met by a golden blur shooting toward me.

"Viktor! What's happened to me?!"

"VIKTOR!"

I watched as Luminaris paced anxiously in circles, spinning around in place.

This gave me a good look at his current state.

The glowing orb, which used to fit neatly in one hand, seemed to have grown larger.

His arms and legs, which were always tiny and inconspicuous on his round body, had also grown slightly longer. The most striking change, however, was the sudden appearance of a frilly edge around his middle, precisely at the point where his arms and legs met.

It looked strangely like a skirt. This was an unexpected development in character design.

"What's happening to me?!" Luminaris tugged at the frilly edge in horror, trying to rip it off. But all he managed to do was hurt himself, letting out a yelp of pain.

I stepped in to stop him. "Don't pull at it. This seems to be part of your body now. Please stop pulling at yourself. Self-mutilation isn't the answer."

I knew the source of the transformation: The Faith Power.

Earlier today, I'd overheard the players referring to him as the "juvenile form of the goddess." It was likely because of this title that the glowing orb was now gradually transforming into something resembling the appearance of the goddess statue.

I explained the theory to Luminaris, not forgetting to throw in a jab.

"Faith Power is fascinating, isn't it? The nerds think you're a 'juvenile goddess,' and here you are, growing a skirt."

"See? This is what you were so eager to gain—the power of belief."

Normally, the influence of belief wouldn't be this rapid or dramatic for a deity. But the glowing orb possessed very little inherent divine power, so the divine power generated by belief became the dominant force.

And that was likely how he turned into this.

"This isn't fascinating! This is horrible!" Luminaris trembled all over as he processed what I had just said. "Then what do I do? I don't want to change gender!"

"Technically, since you only inherited Aeceus's memories, you're a divine essence without a gender to begin with. This isn't a gender change. Consider it practical experience in divine transformation."

"No! No way!" Luminaris' fur or whatever light particles he had bristled in shock. The glowing threads stood on end, making him look like a spiky hedgehog.

"Anyway, I don't want to become a goddess!"

He started to choke up. "You promised me that as long as I acted as the game's mascot, you wouldn't turn me into a goddess-like figure! You said the settings were all fake!"

"Did I? My memory's not what it used to be... being dead and all." I gazed at him affectionately. "While I'm glad you've finally accepted your role as the game's mascot, you should know better than I do that the effects of belief are nearly impossible to change."

Luminaris' glowing orb eyes widened in disbelief. "You promised me! You specifically said—"

I spread my hands. "But I'm just an undead. I don't have the power to alter the effects of belief. Also, I'm a black magician. And as everyone knows..."

"You wouldn't..." Luminaris floated backward in horror.

"We're notoriously unreliable."

Luminaris hovered backward, swaying as if he had suffered a massive blow. "You did this on purpose you fucker!"

"I'm hurt. Think of it as character development. You're becoming more... divine. And try to act a bit more ladylike, will you?" I silently observed as Luminaris cycled through emotions: Fear, anger, helplessness as he realized he couldn't fight back, a second wave of anger, a second bout of despair... And finally, hopeless resignation.

Just wow.

"I don't want character development! I want my old body back!"

The players love you this way. Isn't that what you wanted? I found the whole thing immensely entertaining. No wonder black magicians love building their happiness on other people's pain.

It really was satisfying!

After watching long enough, I finally decided to let him off the hook.

"Though as black magicians go, I'm rather unique." I cleared my throat. "As everyone knows, I'm not your typical black magician. So, of course, I wouldn't lie to you."

"What do you mean?" Luminaris asked suspiciously.

"Let's just say I have... administrative privileges."

With that, I opened the newly acquired [Chronicles of Aeltia Console].

The familiar programming interface made my head throb. I was reminded of the days spent designing the game's official website, which had drained my inner sanctum. Fortunately, my recent internet crash course had been useful.

"What are you doing?" Luminaris peered at the console.

"Giving you a makeover. The non-divine kind, no, it should be divine now?" I successfully located the game mascot's icon settings.

After a few adjustments, Luminaris reverted to his original glowing orb form.

With tears and snot still plastered on his glowing face, he stared at his suddenly shrunken body, momentarily stunned.

"Huh??? I'm back to normal!"

"Define normal. You're still a talking ball of light," I smirked.

"But at least I'm not wearing a skirt!" He spun excitedly in the air, so elated he couldn't stop himself. Sure enough, some things could only be appreciated after they were lost.

He turned to me, full of questions: "How did you do it?"

What I said earlier wasn't wrong. The effects of belief were notoriously difficult to counteract. That was why so many gods had perished in belief-driven wars.

I gave a mysterious smile. "Secret."

"More importantly, you'd better remember today's lesson and get back to work. Remember this feeling. Next time you get curious about divine power..."

Luminaris shuddered. "No need! Lesson learned! Totally learned! Got it! I was just curious! I'm not interested anymore!"

To prove his words, he zipped into the cathedral with a whoosh, his retreat looking very much like fleeing in panic.

I watched for a moment, then returned to my stone seat, gazing at the sky at a contemplative 45-degree angle. In reality, my focus was on the floating game console in the air.

Fixing Luminaris' transformation had been simple. Since Faith Power wasn't acting directly on his body, the issue was solvable. After all, he was just a mascot within the game.

Players might idealize his image, but most of the faith was tied to the conviction that Chronicles of Aeltia was a game, which created the current game console.

What the game icon looked like was something players could suggest. But ultimately, the decision was up to me.

I tinkered with the console for a while longer, successfully making the interface more user-friendly and accessible. Let's see... character design, game panel, data display...

---

[Game Development Features:]

[Character Design: Costs 1 Divine Power]

[Realistic Game Panel: Costs 100 Divine Power]

[Realistic Data Display – Name: Costs 100 Divine Power]

[Realistic Data Display – Race: Costs 500 Divine Power]

[Realistic Data Display – Level: Costs 500 Divine Power]

[Realistic Data Display – Experience: Costs 500 Divine Power]

[Realistic Data Display – Sanity: Costs 10,000,000 Divine Power]

[Realistic Data Display – Skills: Costs 500 Divine Power]

[Realistic Data Display – Inventory: Costs 1,000 Divine Power]

[Customization: Unlimited Divine Power]

[...]

---

I scanned the options and felt a chill. "Even after finally breaking 100 divine power, I can only afford two or three features?"

How miserable!

No matter whether I had 1 point or 100 points of divine power... The only feature with any semblance of freedom was still dressing up Luminaris!

The realistic skills section was just a translation of adjectives I had made up myself. Currently, the player panel was just an empty shell designed based on the traits of deities. Data changes were something I observed and secretly modified. I'd been hoping to rely on the side effects of Faith Power to make those changes real someday.

But clearly, I had been too optimistic.

Side effects were side effects because their benefits would never outweigh their drawbacks. All of these features required me to spend divine power to unlock them manually.

This was especially true for functions involving monitoring player stats.

Each of those cost at least 500 divine power to unlock!

Although they were one-time unlocks and didn't require spending divine power on every individual player, like I did when creating the game panels...

"Without resources, I'm stuck!" I let out a long sigh.

I scrutinized the list for ages and couldn't find a single skill I deemed worth unlocking.

The most ridiculous one was the Realistic Player Name feature. This ability, which merely involved importing players' registered IDs into the game, somehow cost 100 divine power?!