Barbarian's Adventure in a Fantasy World-Chapter 231: The God of Hunger, Ferderica (2)

“What’s going on here?”

“Did something happen?”

The peaceful night in the capital was suddenly pierced by commotion. Citizens returning home paused, ears catching the tension in the air. They gathered, curiosity drawing them to the street where Ketal now faced a group of ragged strangers, their leader pointing a sword of holy light at him.

Those who witnessed the scene—Ketal standing tall, and the mysterious woman wielding a blade formed from sacred power—felt an instinctive sense of dread. Something was happening that should never occur within the city’s walls. An act of violence, so raw and primal, was about to take place under the watchful eyes of the gods and the king alike.

Some people quickly fled the scene, unwilling to be drawn into danger. Others, braver or more foolish, ducked behind walls and carts, peering out to watch what would unfold. Even in a city that had seen countless miracles and disasters, this sight was something new.

Ketal, meanwhile, was unruffled.

“Ferderica?” he murmured to himself, the name sounding familiar. He thought back, searching his memories. It came to him suddenly, a conversation with Aquaz during their journey to the coastal city, when they had been preparing to face the ape monsters from the Deep Sea. Aquaz had spoken then about the various religious orders, some wielding holy power in ways unlike any others.

Ferderica’s name had come up—an obscure, yet unsettling cult devoted to the God of Hunger.

So these are Ferderica’s followers, Ketal realized, eyes narrowing in interest.

Riltara’s voice broke the silence, quiet but unwavering. “We have tracked you by divine revelation, Ketal.”

They had followed the will of their god, tracing Ketal’s steps for weeks. From the Denian Kingdom, to the holy land of Kalosia, to the seaside cities and the City of Merfolk, they had hunted for the one marked by prophecy. And now, finally, they had cornered him back in Denian, in the heart of civilization.

Riltara gave a slight, grim smile. “You’ve done well to evade the gaze of our god.”

“I didn’t try to hide,” Ketal replied, bemused. In truth, he hadn’t even realized anyone was on his trail.

Riltara ignored his remark and continued, her tone cold and formal. “Come quietly, Sinner of Revelation. You will be brought to the holy land. Refusal is not an option.”

Ketal took in her words, a flicker of curiosity lighting in his eyes. It seemed like another god wanted to meet him. They intended to bring him to their holy land. Fascination stirred in his chest. Under different circumstances, he might have agreed without hesitation. However, now, his priorities lay elsewhere.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “but I can’t go with you right now.”

His current objective was to find a master who could teach him to control Myst. Anything else would have to wait.

“I’ll come with you after I finish my business here,” Ketal offered, as a compromise.

However, his suggestion was dismissed at once.

“Your opinion is not required,” Riltara said. The answer was cold, final.

With a clatter, the holy knights accompanying Riltara moved into position, surrounding Ketal. Those onlookers who remained let out high-pitched cries, scurrying farther away.

Ketal only whistled, still relaxed. “So you’re going to force me, then?”

Suddenly, a strange light enveloped him—not the bright gold of the Sun God’s Church, but a thick, oppressive brown, like night-soaked earth.

Riltara and the holy knights spoke, their words echoing with the force of a divine verdict.

“I strip you of your freedom to walk where you will.”

“I strip you of your freedom to think as you wish.”

“I strip you of your freedom to resist.”

A pressure unlike anything Ketal had felt before settled over him. This was no ordinary holy power; it was the authority of Ferderica, God of Hunger. The very essence of free will, desire, and longing was being pulled away, one thread at a time, until all that remained was a hollow urge to obey.

Before Ketal realized it, the only path left to him was to follow Riltara and her knights. It was as if every alternative had been locked behind invisible doors.

“So, this is possible as well?” Ketal mused, intrigued by the sensation.

Riltara, assuming she had succeeded, lowered her sword. “Come. It is the only action left to you.”

“It might be an interesting experience, traveling with you,” he said lightly. Ketal’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “But as I said, I have business here first.”

He took a step forward, on his own, with full intent. Riltara’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“How—?”

She had seen the power of her god strip away the very will to act from countless souls. There was no resisting Ferderica’s command. Yet Ketal was still moving, seemingly unaffected.

Riltara and her holy knights poured more power into their spell, the oppressive brown light tightening around Ketal like chains. The divine force pressed harder, attempting to crush his will, to erase his freedom, his autonomy, his very sense of self.

Ketal paused, feeling the strange sensation.

“It certainly is unusual,” he admitted, “but that’s all it is.”

Despite their efforts, the power of Ferderica could not bind him. He could feel it trying to swallow him whole, but his own force of will pushed back, like a river flooding its banks and breaking a dam.

“Your freedom is forfeit!” Riltara cried, desperate now.

Ketal responded with an unbothered laugh. “I said no.”

He stomped his foot. A rumble shook the street. The ground buckled, the oppressive brown light shattering under the backlash. The force rebounded, slamming into the holy knights and Riltara herself.

The knights coughed blood and dropped to the ground, unconscious from the shock. Riltara alone remained standing, though pain contorted her features.

“You think you can escape? The god watches you! We will pursue you until you come to the holy land!” she shouted, voice hoarse with humiliation and rage.

Ketal waved off her warning. “You’re welcome to try. As I said, I’ll come on my own when I’m ready. Just wait for me.”

He turned and walked away, leaving Riltara biting her lip in frustration.

***

Returning to the Akasha family estate, Ketal found Milayna lounging on the sofa, finally enjoying a break after a long day.

“You’re back,” she greeted him. “There was some sort of commotion outside. Did something happen?”

“There was a bit of trouble.” Ketal’s tone was calm, but his eyes were sharp. “Milayna, could I ask you something?”

“Of course. What is it?”

“What do you know about the god Ferderica and their church?”

Milayna tensed. This was not the reaction she had given when he had asked about other faiths. “You mean... the God of Hunger, Ferderica?”

Ketal nodded.

Milayna hesitated, then sighed. “Well, I suppose it’s good for you to know, just in case you have to deal with them.”

She began her explanation, her words careful. “Ferderica is the God of Hunger.”

Ketal listened, intrigued. “So, they’re like the god of food and famine?”

“Not exactly.” Milayna continued, “Ferderica’s hunger means more than starvation. The god stands against all forms of longing. Whether it’s a beggar longing for bread, a greedy man coveting riches, a warrior seeking strength, or a scholar yearning for knowledge—anyone who wants anything is hungry, in Ferderica’s eyes. The god’s doctrine is to reject all desire, all yearning, all incompleteness.”

Ketal nodded slowly. “That’s why they’re called the God of Hunger.”

“Yes. They see all the world’s striving, both physical and spiritual, as nothing but forms of hunger. And so, Ferderica’s church seeks to spread that idea. Their followers pray not for fulfillment, but for emptiness, for perpetual lack.”

Ketal absorbed this. “So they hate abundance?”

Milayna nodded grimly. “Ferderica’s church despises abundance. They despise fulfillment. They want a world where no one is ever satisfied—where hunger, of every kind, reigns forever.”

Their practices, she explained, reflected this. The church’s history was filled with incidents where they invaded wealthy lands, forcing the people into starvation or deprivation, simply to please their god.

“It’s similar to what the Kalosia Church did before,” she added, voice darkening.

She explained that Kalosia’s Church had once been the source of endless chaos. Devoted to the God of Lies and Deception, they had spread confusion and suffering throughout the continent until the allied nations rose up to suppress them.

Only after this, and after years of reform, did Kalosia’s Church become what it was today.

“But Ferderica’s Church,” she said, “is a lot like the old Kalosia. They’re not people you want to get involved with. Thank goodness their headquarters are far from here.”

She paused, looking at Ketal with concern. “But why are you asking about them all of a sudden?”

Ketal replied simply, “A follower of Ferderica came looking for me.”

“What?” Milayna’s eyes went wide. “A... a follower of Ferderica? Here?”

“Yes. They called me the Sinner of Revelation and tried to drag me to their holy land. That’s what the ruckus outside was about.”

“You mean... Ferderica actually issued a revelation about you?”

Ketal shrugged. “That’s what it sounded like.”

Milayna paled, her face a mask of anxiety. “If a god like Ferderica is interested in you, that’s... that’s not good. What are we supposed to do? Should you run away? But you can’t really hide from a god in this world...”

She looked ready to panic.

Ketal remained calm. “Run? Why would I do that?”

“Huh?”

“Isn’t this just an invitation from a god? They want to bring me to their holy land. Most people never get that opportunity.”

He explained that most holy lands were closed to outsiders. It was only by chance that he had entered Kalosia’s holy land, thanks to a series of accidents and special circumstances. He had never imagined he would be invited to another. To Ketal, it seemed like something to be pleased about, not something to fear.

“R-really...?” Milayna looked at him as if he’d grown another head. For a normal person from the continent, it was an unimaginable reaction.

If it had been anyone else speaking, she would have assumed the pressure had made them lose their mind.

“Are you planning to go right away?” she asked him.

“No. I have something to finish here. I told them I’d come after that.”

“Oh... I see.”

Ketal’s composure was so complete that, for a moment, Milayna felt as if maybe things weren’t so dire after all.

“But why do they want you?” she wondered aloud.

Ketal shook his head. “I have no idea.”

It was only now, after hearing Milayna’s explanation, that he understood who Ferderica was. He had no personal connection to the god or the church. However, there was a memory that tugged at his thoughts—a conversation with the Spirit God.

“We are conflicted about you. Each of us chooses a different response—indifference, goodwill, hostility, control. I haven’t decided yet.”

If that was true, then there had to be gods preparing all sorts of responses to him: indifference, goodwill, hostility, even attempts to control. Perhaps Ferderica was simply the first to act.

It doesn’t really matter, Ketal decided. I’ll go after I finish my current business.

The next day dawned, quiet and gray. However, when Ketal left his room, he found Riltara and her followers camped out in front of the Akasha family estate, waiting for him.