Translator: CinderTL
Faith has been anchored; the walls of the heart have been erected.
Currently undergoing detection...
Words that seemed woven from blood and fire slowly materialized. Roland held his breath, his gaze fixed intently on them.
Moments later, the text in the "Faith" section of his Job Panel rippled like water before abruptly changing.
Faith: None
Currently available faith direction: Self
"Self?"
As the word slowly solidified, Roland unconsciously clenched his fists.
"Just as I suspected... the object of faith isn't necessarily those deities perched high above the clouds..."
Before he could delve deeper into his thoughts, the Job Panel shifted again.
Choose "Self" as your faith?
"Yes."
Faced with this clear prompt, Roland didn't hesitate.
Faith: Self confirmed.
As these words appeared, an uncanny calm enveloped Roland.
It wasn't the ecstatic frenzy of divine revelation, nor the surging torrent of power, but a deeper, more intrinsic conviction.
It was as if a pivot that had always been misaligned by a hair's breadth had finally, silently, clicked into perfect alignment.
He carefully sensed the changes in his body and soul, but found no immediate increase in strength.
He hadn't become physically stronger, nor had his mental power significantly increased.
"Perhaps the changes brought about by establishing faith aren't manifested in such superficial ways..."
Just as he was pondering this, a new line of information materialized on his Job Panel:
Faith Resonance: 0%
Roland stared at the number, his brow furrowing slightly.
"Faith Resonance... zero? It seems this so-called faith isn't static."
"It can grow, or rather... needs to be solidified. But how exactly do I increase it?"
His eyes narrowed as he sank into deep thought.
"Could it be... that progress in this metric is tied to practicing my beliefs?"
"Each time I make a choice that aligns with my inner convictions, each time I overcome a challenge while staying true to my path, might strengthen this 'faith' in myself. But what exactly is the path I'm committed to?"
He reviewed his past experiences, and after a moment, a faint hypothesis formed in his mind.
"Perhaps it's... an unwavering pursuit of greater strength?"
After pondering for a moment and still unable to reach a definitive conclusion, Roland shook his head slightly, temporarily setting the question aside. He turned his attention to carefully experiencing the changes brought about by the establishment of his faith.
While it didn't result in an immediate surge of strength, he sensed a subtle possibility.
Roland closed his eyes again, sinking his consciousness into the depths of his being.
This time, he made no attempt to outwardly "draw" or "entreat." Instead, he focused all his will inward, concentrating on the newly established "conviction" in his own path and will.
The process remained clumsy, yet it felt fundamentally different from when he had relied on the longsword.
He felt an extremely faint but undeniably real warmth.
It wasn't coming from an external source, but rather seeping slowly from the unwavering "conviction" itself, like the first drop of warm spring water trickling from beneath the melting ice and snow of early spring.
The warmth was delicate, gentle, and carried a nascent yet pure quality of light.
He attempted to guide this faint warmth, circulating it according to the methods described in the scroll.
In the next moment, a strand of positive energy, finer than a hair and so dim it was almost imperceptible, flowed slowly through his arm under the guidance of his will.
The energy was so faint it barely clung to the sword's surface, its quality far inferior to the surging divine power contained within the Mithril Longsword.
Yet this power undeniably originated from within him, stemming from his unwavering belief in himself—his "faith in self."
Roland opened his eyes, watching the nearly invisible wisp of light at his fingertip fade away. A faint smile curved his lips.
"Excellent. Now, all that remains is to... find ways to enhance Faith Resonance through practical application."
Recalling the awakening of his dragon bloodline upon reaching 100% Bloodline Fusion Degree, a flicker of anticipation lit Roland's eyes.
"I wonder what changes will occur as Faith Resonance gradually increases. And..."
His thoughts drifted to the holy knights described in ancient texts, figures almost inseparable from faith itself. Roland instinctively raised a hand, his fingertips lightly tracing the smooth line of his jaw.
But he quickly shook his head, dispelling these distractions. He carefully stowed away the scroll containing the Holy Strike technique before retrieving the Zone of Truth scroll he had set aside earlier.
Unlike the Holy Strike scroll, whose bold strokes and powerful imagery conveyed raw strength, the Zone of Truth scroll featured intricate, delicate calligraphy.
He quickly scanned the contents.
As a second-circle spell, its underlying principles differed from those of Holy Strike, which channeled internal or external energy. Instead, it focused on weaving and shaping specific laws of reality.
The scroll detailed how to concentrate mental power to construct a node for an invisible force field, and how to briefly infuse the precinct with the concept of "truth," creating a sacred constraint.
For Roland, who had recently mastered guiding positive energy with his will and even begun to establish a "self" faith, understanding the spell's framework wasn't particularly difficult.
The challenge lay in precisely manipulating mental power and subtly sensing fragments of the laws of reality—skills Roland excelled at, thanks to his repeatedly honed mental power.
Following the scroll's instructions, he immersed his mind within it, his fingertips tracing the rune patterns depicted on the scroll as he silently constructed the spell model.
Mental power flowed out like silken threads, weaving and intertwining in intricate patterns.
Soon, just as when he had first constructed the Trick Fire Arrow, a small yet stable spell structure formed within the Deep Sea of Consciousness, radiating a faint, almost imperceptible silvery glow.
Skill Learned: Zone of Truth
The Job Panel's concise notification appeared, confirming his successful acquisition of the spell.
Roland opened his eyes, sensing the now-stable spell model within his mind.
However, he didn't attempt to cast the spell immediately.
After all, there was no point in creating a domain that compels truth-telling within the confines of his secluded residence.
He merely confirmed that he had fully understood the spell, mastered it, and added it to his repertoire.
Carefully stowing both scrolls away, he extinguished the oil lamp, leaving the room illuminated only by the faint starlight filtering through the window.
The next morning, Roland awoke promptly as the first rays of dawn seeped through the window lattice.
After a quick wash and breakfast, he discussed his plans with Reggie, agreeing to depart for the River Domain Nations that afternoon.
He then summoned Theresa and Galvis, and together they headed to the Adventurer's Guild Darco had taken him to the previous night, where they enjoyed a hearty meal.
Afterward, they met with Alchemist Danny.
Roland had initially intended to bring him along, but seeing Danny's still-unpacked luggage, he shook his head in resignation.
He handed Danny a pouch of coins, instructing him to settle his affairs and hire reliable adventurers or mercenaries to escort him to the River Domain.
Next, Roland visited Sean.
Confirming that Sean was neither in mortal danger nor under house arrest, he finally felt at ease.
After a brief exchange, he proceeded to the Knight Academy to inform Darco of his impending departure.
Perhaps because their conversation the previous day had eased the sorrow of parting, the young noble, who occasionally tended toward melodrama, refrained from uttering any sentimental farewells this time. Instead, he offered a few lighthearted jests and waved goodbye with a casual flourish.
After a simple farewell ceremony arranged by the Golden Valley Kingdom, Roland and his companions slowly rode out through the towering city gates of Golden Grain City, gradually leaving the royal capital behind.
The crisp clatter of hooves echoed across the paved avenue.
The rising sun bathed the distant fields in a pale golden light.
Galvis idly plucked a few clear, scattered notes from his lute before urging his horse closer to Roland.
"Ah, Roland," he began, his voice as smooth as the notes he had just played, "every farewell is like the final stanza of a poem. The city gate closes behind us, sealing a story within its walls. And ahead lies a new chapter waiting to be written."
Seeing that Roland paid no attention to his poetic musings, the bard shook his head in resignation and turned his gaze toward the winding road ahead, his tone turning slightly more serious.
"Once we return to the River Domain Nations, what are your plans? Will you stay there long?"
Roland listened in silence, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon.
A gentle breeze rustled through the roadside grasses, creating a soft, rustling sound.
After a moment of contemplation, he finally...
slowly shook his head.
(End of the Chapter)
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