Barbarian's Adventure in a Fantasy World-Chapter 235: To Ferderica’s Holy Land (2)

Riltara and the holy knights had always believed that they were the ones leading Ketal toward their holy land. That was the way of things in their eyes: they were the chosen agents of the god, and he was the sinner, the criminal marked by divine revelation. It had never even occurred to them that the truth might be the other way around.

However, now, that illusion was shattered completely.

They realized, with a growing sense of unease, that Ketal wasn’t being dragged along by them at all. In reality, he was simply allowing them to accompany him, choosing, out of nothing more than whim or curiosity, to travel with them for the time being.

This realization struck the holy knights with almost physical force. Suddenly, their greatest challenge was not escorting Ketal safely, but keeping him entertained. From this point onward, their only real task was to amuse him enough that he wouldn’t grow bored and leave them behind.

For the proud holy knights, and for Riltara most of all, this was a humiliation almost too great to bear.

“To think... to think we have to stoop to such degrading tasks...,” One of the holy knights whispered, voice trembling.

They had devoted their lives to Ferderica, the great and terrible God of Hunger, and yet here they were, forced to act like jesters, performing for the amusement of a single man. Riltara bit her lip so hard it nearly drew blood.

“There’s nothing else we can do,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

The simple truth was that they couldn’t control Ketal, not even with their combined strength. Just a single sigh of annoyance from him was enough to send waves of terror through their hearts, leaving them gasping for breath. There was no other way but to appease him and hope he would stay.

“I’ll do it,” Riltara said at last, her tone steadying. “You all don’t need to worry. I’ll handle it myself.”

“Riltara?” one knight asked her, startled.

“Are you sure?” another said, concern written on their face.

“This is my duty,” she replied, her voice resolute. She was their leader, after all. In times like these, it was only right for the leader to step forward and bear the burden.

Riltara steeled herself, making the decision to sacrifice her own dignity for the sake of the others. The knights watched her, faces filled with admiration.

“Ooh... Riltara...”

“May Ferderica watch over you, always,” another said with quiet reverence.

Their words rang with praise for her selfless devotion, her willingness to bear hardship for the sake of their order and their god.

Meanwhile, Ketal listened to their conversation with a bemused smile, as if watching a particularly strange comedy. Riltara walked beside him, her thoughts racing. She had to find a way to keep Ketal entertained. However, there was a problem, and it was a significant one.

How do you even make someone happy? she wondered.

She had lived a life of deprivation. Happiness was a foreign concept to her—something she had never truly experienced. Bringing joy to someone else seemed impossible when she didn’t even know what it meant herself. In the end, she simply walked in silence, anxiously stealing glances at Ketal, hoping for some clue.

No matter what question Ketal asked, Riltara’s answers were curt and awkward. She had no experience with normal conversation, and it showed in every word. Slowly, Ketal’s face grew colder, his interest visibly waning.

“This is boring,” Ketal said at last, his voice flat and disinterested.

Riltara’s heart dropped like a stone. She stammered, struggling to form words. “I—uh...”

She desperately wanted to say something, anything, but nothing came out. It was painfully obvious that she was floundering.

Ketal clicked his tongue and asked her, “Don’t you have anything to offer?”

“Wait, just a moment,” Riltara said, scrambling to open her pouch.

She dug through her belongings, frantically searching for anything that might please him. As she fumbled, Ketal watched, his face turning increasingly skeptical with every item she produced.

In the end, her meager possessions were revealed for what they were: a small water pouch, a few strips of dried meat—nothing but the bare essentials. There was nothing even remotely interesting or pleasant among her things. The poverty of her existence was laid bare, and for a moment, Ketal almost felt sorry for her.

However, then, Riltara pulled out a small, worn book.

“What’s that?” Ketal asked her.

“It’s a book of Ferderica’s teachings,” Riltara replied. She had brought it with her to read during their long journey, a habit instilled in her since childhood.

At the mention of a god’s doctrine, Ketal’s eyes lit up with sudden interest.

“May I read it?” he asked her.

Is he going to defile the holy book? Is this just another way to humiliate me? Riltara wondered, her face pale. She desperately wanted to refuse, but she knew if she did, Ketal might lose interest and leave at once.

“Okay...,” she said, swallowing her pride as she handed over the book, tears brimming in her eyes. Please, Ferderica, forgive me for this.

Ketal grinned, genuinely delighted, and immediately opened the book. From that moment on, he could be seen reading during every break, at mealtime, even right before falling asleep. At first, Riltara watched anxiously, expecting him to mock or damage the book. However, as the days passed, her worry turned to shock.

Ketal never mistreated the book. In fact, he read it with surprising care, focusing on each line with intense concentration. Whenever he found something unclear, he would ask Riltara thoughtful questions about doctrine, practice, or the holy land. Astonished, Riltara answered every question as best she could.

After a while, Ketal closed the book, having finished his reading. Just as the rumors had said, Ferderica was obsessed with deprivation. Their doctrine revolved entirely around the value of lacking, of yearning. The whole order, it seemed, existed to pursue that single, contradictory goal. To Ketal, it seemed almost impossible that such a group could even function.

Is it really possible for an entire community to exist just to seek deprivation? he wondered. It made no sense by the standards he knew. The more he thought about it, the more contradictions he saw. He decided to ask directly.

“I have a question,” he said.

“Yes? What is it?” Riltara replied, eager to please.

“You’re a follower of Ferderica. Do all the members of your faith seek deprivation and hunger, even the high priests?” Ketal asked her.

“Of course we do! We are Ferderica’s faithful!. We believe in their values and follow them absolutely,” Riltara said, her face filled with unwavering conviction.

“Is that so?” Ketal murmured, eyeing her carefully.

He decided to dig a little deeper. “Then tell me, when was the last time you ate your fill?”

Riltara blinked. She didn’t hesitate for a second.

“There’s a flaw in that question. I’ve never been full,” she said with quiet pride.

Ketal’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

“Abundance is a luxury, and satisfaction is a sin. I have never once experienced fullness,” Riltara replied, her tone so earnest that it was almost chilling.

“You’ve never been full, even once?” Ketal pressed.

“That’s right. I was raised in the holy land, under Ferderica’s rules. It’s the same for all the holy knights who travel with me,” she explained.

Ketal studied the group with fresh eyes.

They were all remarkably small and thin. Compared to the barbarians he knew from the White Snowfield or even the people back on Earth, the people in this world were smaller in general. However, these holy knights were even thinner than the average person in this world. It was as if none of them had ever received proper nourishment, even as children.

He remembered the meals they’d eaten on the road: pungent, slightly foul-smelling water and dried meat so tough and flavorless it was barely edible. That was all.

“Then have you ever even tasted real food?” he asked Riltara, frowning.

“No. Never,” Riltara replied.

“What about play? Did you ever play games as a child?”

“No, I did not.”

He kept questioning her. “Have you ever had a real bath? Slept deeply and peacefully? Do you know what a soft bed feels like?”

“No,” Riltara said, proud of her deprivation. “I wake up every two hours to pray and never sleep in a bed. I sleep on the ground.”

To anyone else, this would have sounded like nothing but abuse and hardship. Ketal struggled to hold back a laugh.

However, Riltara, for her part, looked almost triumphant.

“I have always done my best to follow Ferderica’s teachings. In devotion, I yield to no one,” she said, holding her head high.

“Is that so?” Ketal replied, unsure what else to say.

That night, Ketal called Riltara over. She approached, her anxiety plain for all to see.

“What is it?” she asked him.

“It’s nothing serious... I’m just curious,” Ketal said, waving a hand.

He questioned her again about the doctrine, about the daily life in the holy land, and about the true aim of the order. He wanted detailed answers, real information, not just platitudes.

Riltara hesitated, but answered everything as best she could, though she was puzzled by his curiosity.

Why would the Sinner of Revelation care about doctrine? she wondered. Then, suddenly, a thought struck her. Is Ketal, the sinner marked by divine revelation, about to convert to our faith? Can he be realizing the greatness of our god, seeking to join the faithful?

For a fleeting moment, Riltara’s gaze toward Ketal softened, hope flickering in her eyes. However, her hope was quickly dashed.

“Do you truly believe in Ferderica, and in their teachings?” Ketal asked her, his eyes sharp.

***

“What are you talking about?” Riltara shouted, springing to her feet. Anger twisted her face.

It was an outrageous affront. That he would question her faith, her very purpose, was something she could hardly tolerate. Even if her mission was to keep him happy, this went too far.

Ketal just shrugged.

“I can’t help but wonder,” he said. “Ferderica’s doctrine is all about deprivation, right? But how can you understand deprivation if you’ve never experienced satisfaction? Only those who have known fullness can truly understand lack.”

Riltara insisted she had never been full, never played, never known comfort. Someone who had never experienced those things could not truly understand what it meant to be deprived.

“You say you’re following Ferderica’s will, but in truth, you may be misunderstanding it more than anyone,” Ketal concluded.

“What are you...!” Riltara tried to argue.

“Go ahead, prove me wrong. Do you know what it means to be satisfied?” Ketal asked her quietly.

Riltara could not answer. She fell silent, and Ketal smiled.

“If you don’t even know what satisfaction is, how can you claim to understand deprivation? In that case, maybe I’m closer to fulfilling Ferderica’s will than you are.”

“That’s enough nonsense,” Riltara said, trying to put an end to the discussion.

However, Ketal would not stop.

“You’re denying Ferderica’s values. You claim to know deprivation without knowing satisfaction. Let me help you get closer to your god,” he said with a wry grin.

“What...?”

“I’ll teach you what it means to be satisfied. If, after you learn satisfaction, you still choose deprivation, then you’ll finally understand Ferderica’s teachings better than anyone.”

Riltara wanted to refuse. She wanted to shout that a sinner had no right to question her faith. However, if she said no, Ketal might leave, and she couldn’t risk that. She bit her lip, unable to answer. Her hesitation was all Ketal needed to see.

To him, it was amusing. In her indecision, she was already betraying the doctrine she claimed to uphold.

“Fine,” Riltara said at last, her voice barely steady. “I accept.”

It doesn’t matter, she told herself. This is only another trial from Ferderica. Even if Ketal tries to tempt me, I will not falter. I will show my unbreakable will.

“I accept,” she repeated, more firmly.

“Good,” Ketal replied, his smile expectant.

***

The next morning, Riltara explained Ketal’s proposal to the holy knights. Their faces twisted in outrage.

“A barbarian would dare suggest such a thing! It’s an insult to all of us!” one of them cried.

“It’s alright. As long as I endure, there won’t be a problem,” Riltara said, keeping them calm.

The holy knights showered her with praise, calling her selfless for enduring so much for the sake of the revelation. Riltara herself felt confident. She was certain that her faith was unshakable, that no temptation could break her. No matter what Ketal offered, she would not stray from Ferderica’s path.

“Let’s have breakfast,” she said calmly.

The group pulled out their usual rations: foul-smelling water and dried meat. Just as she was about to eat, Ketal called out.

“Riltara. Your meal is here.”

“What?”

Ketal handed her a piece of jerky and a cup of water.

“I thought it would be too much to give you real food right away, so this is jerky just like the one you’re used to,” he said.

However, there was a difference. The jerky she usually ate was dry, tough, and nearly tasteless—more punishment than nourishment. What Ketal offered looked moist, its surface a glossy brown, with a rich aroma of smoke. It was jerky, but unlike anything she had ever tasted.

“This is your breakfast. Go on, eat,” Ketal encouraged.

“Alright,” Riltara said, taking the jerky with a blank expression.

She told herself it was just food. She was a faithful servant of Ferderica. This was no temptation she couldn’t resist. She would eat it without emotion, unaffected by the taste. However, as soon as she bit down, her face changed.

What is this? she thought.

The flavor was unlike anything she’d known. Where before there had only been a struggle to chew and swallow, now there was tenderness, juiciness, and an aroma that filled her nose. It was as if she was tasting food for the first time in her life. She couldn’t help herself. She chewed slowly, savoring every bite. When she swallowed, a soft moan escaped her lips.

A strange emptiness settled over her. For a moment, she sat in a daze, then snapped herself back to reality.

No! I can’t give in to temptation! She tried to banish the memory of that flavor, to force it from her mind.

However, Ketal wasn’t done.

“It seems you enjoyed that. Here’s another,” he said, handing her another piece.

“Huh?”

“As I said, you need to learn what satisfaction means. Not just delicious food, but what it means to be truly full.”

Ketal opened his pouch, revealing a stash of jerky, each piece as tempting as the last. He began handing them to her, one by one.

“Eat until you’re full. As much as you want,” Ketal said, his smile cheerful and patient.

This is a test, Riltara told herself. It’s nothing more than temptation—a sinner trying to make me doubt my faith. But I can’t refuse. If I do, he might leave...

Hands shaking, but unable to say no, Riltara accepted the jerky.