Barbarian's Adventure in a Fantasy World-Chapter 242: Ferderica (1)

Riltara gasped for breath, her chest heaving as she tried to comprehend what she was witnessing.

The overwhelming presence that pressed down from every direction left no room for doubt. Something great and terrible had descended into their midst. Ferderica, the God of Hunger, had come to the holy land, manifesting through the Saint’s body. The atmosphere itself grew thick and oppressive, as if the air had turned to lead.

Riltara’s face went deathly pale. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. It was as if the sky itself was sitting on her chest, squeezing the life from her lungs.

Ketal, noticing her distress, tilted his head in her direction. He let his aura unfurl, then carefully withdrew it, balancing the energies in the plaza. Riltara slumped to her knees, drawing in air in desperate gulps.

“She’s your follower, after all. It wouldn’t do to snuff her out just by being here,” Ketal said, glancing toward Ferderica.

Ferderica’s borrowed face twisted slightly, an expression of faint annoyance passing across the Saint’s features, as if Ketal had just given them unsolicited parenting advice. However, Ferderica did as Ketal suggested, drawing back their power with a gesture. Ketal, satisfied, did the same.

Now, for the first time, Riltara looked up, her senses slowly returning. She realized with a shock that she was standing before Ferderica themselves, the god she had worshiped all her life, the one she had never imagined she would meet face to face.

A dozen emotions warred within her: awe, terror, ecstasy, despair. She had never even dreamed of speaking to their god. Now, with trembling lips, she tried to form words.

“She’s had a lot of questions about you,” Ketal said softly to Ferderica. “Would you care to answer them?”

There was a pause, vast and reverberating. Then, from the Saint’s lips, Ferderica’s voice spoke—a sound not quite mortal, not quite anything of this earth.

“Child. What is it you wish to know?”

Riltara’s breath caught again. The world fell away. Nothing existed but the voice of her god. With immense effort, she held herself together, grasping at the question that had burned in her heart for so long. Her voice was thin and shaking.

“Ferderica... Am I... Are we truly following your will? Is this really your path?”

The answer came in a voice so gentle it was almost a caress.

“Your faith, your belief in me—those are what I cherish most. I am satisfied with your devotion. Your faith alone is enough, my child.”

A wild joy surged through Riltara, her heart soaring at the affirmation. Her god recognized her. Her faith mattered. For one brief, dazzling moment, she felt as though she could soar above the clouds.

However, then despair crept in as she listened closer. Ferderica had answered her question with kindness, but they had also avoided it. They hadn’t said that the path of the church was right or just. They had praised her belief, not the church’s actions.

Riltara tried to speak again, but in that instant, the world twisted. She, along with all the holy knights and priests, everyone who had been within the holy land, were suddenly swept away by a force beyond comprehension. It was as if the entire population had simply ceased to exist, reappearing a heartbeat later in a clearing far from the holy land. Riltara fell to her knees, stunned.

Back in the ruined square, Ketal watched the evacuation with a low whistle.

“So you spirited everyone away to keep them out of harm’s way. That must have been a headache.”

Ferderica’s voice echoed in the empty air, “It’s only natural that I should protect my children from a monster like you.”

Ketal chuckled. “So you really do care about your followers, even though they’ve abandoned your teachings and embraced abundance. I wonder... Doesn’t it bother you, seeing them stray so far from your intent?”

“If my children wish to pursue abundance, so be it. I will not force the young to walk my path if they do not wish it. It is not the role of a parent to impose every step.”

Ketal’s eyes sparkled with interest. Ferderica was so different from Kalosia, the god of Lies and Deception. There was something genuinely human in their affection, a kind of stubborn parental love that persisted even in the face of disappointment or betrayal. Ferderica was the God of Hunger, yet in this, they seemed more nurturing than the distant God of Lies and Deception. Even if their children rebelled, Ferderica would not disown them.

Ketal smiled, a wry curve of his lips. “Would have been nice if you’d spared a little of that kindness for me. So, why did you call me here?”

A chill fell across the plaza, Ferderica’s displeasure simmering just beneath the surface. Their gaze was sharp, cold, and deeply offended, as if a beast they had trapped had somehow escaped and was now standing before them, muddying the sanctity of their hunt.

Ketal’s smile became mocking. “What, did you think that if you let your followers pressure me enough, I’d snap and start killing them? That I’d give you an excuse to call down divine retribution?”

Killing a god’s followers was considered the gravest of sins. Had Ketal lost control and slain Riltara’s party in the Denian Kingdom, his name would have been cursed and hunted until the end of days. That was the trap Ferderica had laid: provoke Ketal, let him destroy, and then use that as an excuse to pass judgment.

“Pretty shallow move for a god. And honestly, pretty sad. Using your own followers as bait, hoping I’d break. I thought gods were supposed to be above such things.”

“You have no right to judge. Riltara would have gladly given her life for my sake. You, monster, cannot even understand what true devotion means,” Ferderica said.

There was pure contempt in their words. Their eyes narrowed, their voice thundered in the Saint’s body with inhuman resonance.

“I know what you are, Ashen-haired Barbarian. Descendant of those who turned their backs on the world by their own choice. Betrayer, you who dared to stand against us, who dared to reject us and cross the forbidden threshold.”

“Betrayer, is it?” Ketal stroked his chin, pondering the weight of Ferderica’s accusation. It was clear there was more to these words than simple anger. Ferderica’s voice trembled with the history of ancient wounds.

“You corrupt the world just by being in it. I tried to control you, to keep you at bay, but in the end, this is what it has come to. Do you know how much harm creatures like you have caused? How much filth you spread, simply by existing outside the place we banished you to?”

“Not really my concern,” Ketal replied, his tone light. “What matters to me is that you stood in my way. If you hadn’t, we’d all be a little happier, don’t you think?”

“You and your kind were never meant to return to the world. Long ago, we cast you out, sealed you away, and now you dare to walk the earth again. It is an insult—a blasphemy against the order we established.”

“I never intended to harm anyone,” Ketal said, shrugging. “But I suppose my opinion doesn’t matter much to you, does it?”

“Your wishes are meaningless. You do not belong here. You cannot be tolerated, no matter what you claim. If a thing, once banished for slaughter and atrocity, suddenly reappears, repenting and asking for forgiveness, would you trust it? Would you allow it to live among you again, or would you kill it where it stands?”

“So that’s what this is about,” Ketal murmured. It was a harsh and unforgiving worldview, but he could see where it came from. He had never committed those crimes, but it seemed that being born of the Demon Realms was enough to damn him in Ferderica’s eyes.

What on earth did the beings from the Demon Realms do to make the gods hate them so much? The thought crossed Ketal’s mind with bitter curiosity.

Ferderica raised their hand. Shadows coiled and gathered in their palm, forming the shape of a sword, black and gleaming with divine power.

“Others may be willing to tolerate your presence, but not I. You must return to your prison, never to set foot in the world again. It is the only way,” Ferderica announced.

Ketal nodded, finally understanding. “So that’s it. Each god has their own feelings about me. Kalosia seems almost amused, treating me with a strange sort of affection. The Spirit God just ignores me. But your hatred and your need to exclude me are the strongest of all.”

He drew his axe from his belt, letting its familiar weight settle into his palm.

“For a God of Hunger, you seem surprisingly attached to this world. You love your followers, and you’ll do anything to protect them, even if that means destroying a threat like me. In some ways, you’re the most human of the gods I’ve met.”

There was something almost touching about it. However, it didn’t change what was about to happen.

Ketal grinned, baring his teeth. “Well, it’s simple then. We settle this the only way we can, by force.”

Hostility crackled in the air, raw and undisguised. The power of god and barbarian met in a titanic clash, their energies twisting space, warping reality around them. The sky itself seemed to tremble as they squared off.

Far in the distance, Riltara, still kneeling in the grass, snapped back to her senses. She realized what was about to happen, something that had never occurred in any legend or myth. Here, in her own lifetime, in the heart of her faith’s holiest land, a mortal was about to battle a god.

Ketal gripped his axe with both hands, pouring his spirit into it. This was not the time for restraint or hesitation. His foot slammed into the earth, the ground shattering beneath him. He charged, closing the distance with the god in a single, thunderous leap.

***

The axe came down, embodying all of Ketal’s strength and will. It was a blow that even an Elder Dragon like Ignisia couldn’t have taken head-on. However, Ferderica did not flinch. They met his charge, swinging their obsidian blade with perfect, unyielding grace.

The crash of metal echoed through the ruined holy land, sending gales of force ripping through the remains of sacred buildings, scattering debris like leaves before a storm.

For a moment, both were forced back—Ketal surprised by the resistance, Ferderica momentarily staggered by the impact.

“Well now,” Ketal said, eyes widening.

Ferderica advanced, dragging their sword’s edge along the ground, sparks flying. Their next strike came in an elegant, sweeping arc, a move that would have been beautiful if it weren’t deadly. Ketal brought his axe down in a crushing counter.

The earth shook with the collision. Both combatants were forced apart, neither able to overcome the other’s power.

“I reject you,” Ferderica declared, pouring divine will into their words.

The god’s power tried to erase Ketal from existence, to nullify him on a fundamental level. Ketal felt the force pressing in from all sides, threatening to snuff out his being. He set his jaw, muscles bunching, and pushed back.

“Hah!” he shouted, breaking free of the god’s intent.

However, in that instant of resistance, Ferderica darted in, black sword aimed at his throat. Ketal twisted aside just in time, the blade grazing his skin but failing to strike home. With a swift spin, he brought his axe around in a wide arc, slamming it into Ferderica and forcing them back three steps.

He pressed the attack, raining down blows with all the force of collapsing mountains, splitting seas. Ferderica never gave an inch, matching every strike with effortless parries, their blade shimmering with power.

Their strength... it’s almost on par with mine? Ketal marveled inwardly. Even the White Serpent, which had bridged earth and sky, had not withstood him like this.

However, there was something odd. Whenever his axe met Ferderica’s sword, he felt his strength diminish, just for a moment. The blade stole something each time they clashed, some deep, essential quality, a fragment of meaning or force.

So that sword carries their authority, Ketal realized.

Ferderica could reach into him and take what was his—at least, for a moment. The loss wasn’t permanent; every time they clashed again, his power returned. It was as if Ferderica’s authority couldn’t fully penetrate his flesh, couldn’t anchor itself in the core of his being.

How strange, Ferderica wondered.

However, the oddest thing was that it worked at all. Ferderica’s authority was meant to be useless against beings like him, the beings called the Oldest Ones, sealed away by the gods. Their power was supposed to cancel each other out. Yet here, Ferderica could still reach him, if only for a heartbeat.

The duel raged on, the sound of their battle echoing through the empty city. Ferderica’s powers still slowed Ketal, but only for a moment each time. He shrugged off the effect, regaining his strength with every breath.

If anything, his momentum was growing.

“You should not exist in this world,” Ferderica intoned, their voice filled with the weight of the cosmos.

“I already told you, I’m not leaving!” Ketal roared, shaking off their words. He tightened his grip on the axe and swung with renewed vigor.

With a shattering clang, Ferderica staggered back, surprised by the force of the blow. Ketal laughed, the joy of battle plain on his face.

“I’m starting to get used to this! This is fun!”

Ferderica picked themselves up slowly, their borrowed face a mask of grim realization.

“I understand now,” they murmured, looking at Ketal with strange clarity. “You’re not like the others from the Inside.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re from there, but your power isn’t the same. Or rather, you want something else, something from here. That’s why my authority affects you at all. You’re holding yourself back.” Their eyes narrowed, expression troubled. “And because of that, you’re weak. Even this limited vessel can match you, more or less. Why?”

There was genuine confusion in their voice.

“Why are you, a child of the Demon Realm, a descendant of betrayers, still longing for this world?”

Ketal smiled, his answer simple. “Because that’s what I want. I desire it, that’s all.”

For a moment, Ferderica fell silent, searching his face for answers.

“You are different, after all...”

“Does that mean you’ll let me stay?” Ketal asked them.

“No. If anything, I am more certain. You must die.”

Ferderica’s conviction only hardened. This barbarian, this aberration, could not be allowed to walk the world. Not before he understood what he truly was. Not before he had a chance to realize the enormity of his own longing. Ferderica could not permit it.

“There’s just no reasoning with you, is there?” Ketal said with a resigned shrug. “So? How exactly do you plan to kill me? I don’t think you can.”

Ferderica did not argue. They were bound by the limitations of the mortal vessel they inhabited. In this state, they could not kill Ketal outright. They were stronger than even an Elder Dragon, but that wasn’t enough.

And so, Ferderica made a decision. If it meant risking permanent loss, if it meant warping the very laws of the world, so be it. Everything was justified if it served to protect the world from this threat.

Ferderica lifted their sword to the sky. The black blade rose and hung in the air, pointing heavenward. “Open the way.”

The sky split apart, clouds rolling back as if torn by an invisible hand. The stars themselves seemed to dim as a chasm of pure light opened above the world.

“Show yourself—my world!”

Ketal felt every hair on his body stand on end. The world was being twisted, reality warping as a gateway formed overhead.

Beyond the sky, something vast and incomprehensible took shape, a world of blinding light, teeming with impossible radiance. The scale of it dwarfed the entire continent, its mere presence enough to make the earth tremble.

Ketal looked up, awe flooding his face.

He realized in a single, piercing instant that this was Ferderica’s true self. The god’s real body, as immense and unfathomable as the cosmos itself. That gaze, those countless, swirling eyes, fell upon him.

The world itself seemed to warp and break under the weight of that attention. Ferderica’s true hostility descended like a mountain.

“I will—” Ferderica began to speak, intent on erasing Ketal from existence. However, suddenly, their voice faltered. Confusion rippled through their colossal presence. “What... are you?”

Ketal, for his part, stood motionless, a look of pure, unguarded awe on his face. He paid no heed to the threat, no mind to the malice that sought to destroy him. He was lost in wonder at the sight of a true god—of Ferderica themselves, revealed at last.