Trait Hoarder

God Poca — Part 2

That was a strange way to introduce oneself.

Anyone listening might think he was some kind of cult leader.

I controlled my expression and gave a slight bow.

“Greetings. I am Level 7 superhuman, Warrior Kim.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Poca turned his gaze outward.

“Though I may be confined to the temple, I still have eyes. Warrior Kim, you saved not just me, but thirty million citizens. This city was fated to be swallowed by the Wraith Tide and become a land of the dead. I knew this, I received the prophecy, and yet I could do nothing. But a single Level 7 superhuman changed everything. I am truly grateful.”

Something about that didn’t sit right.

If Poca were human, I would have questioned him immediately.

But that wasn’t so easy.

Not with the Grand Patriarch staring at me with intense eyes.

And certainly not with the paladins and high priests watching me while pretending to be hidden.

Poca smiled faintly.

“You look like you have a lot of questions.”

“I do, in fact.”

“You know what kind of divinity I am, correct?”

Of course, I did.

A god of smoke and volcanoes.

A fire deity, but not just any ordinary fire god.

His origins traced back to Tezcatlipoca.

Like the Dark Jaguar, from whom he had splintered, Poca possessed a degree of foresight and omniscience.

Not as powerful as the original Dark Jaguar or the ancient Tezcatlipoca, but still significant.

“Yes, I am well aware.”

“Though I have the ability to foresee events, my powers are still far too weak. I only saw São Paulo’s downfall after the Wraith King had already revealed himself.”

“Ah…”

That would have been around the time I had been talking with the Saintess.

So she had done something.

Or perhaps Poca was simply too weak.

He still hadn’t gone through puberty, after all.

For a God to properly awaken, at the very least, his body needed to reach adolescence.

“It must have been distressing for you.”

“It was. Seeing that future… I nearly fainted. A God passing out from a vision—how embarrassing.”

Poca spoke with self-deprecation.

He was undoubtedly a benevolent god.

Which was probably why, in Episode 9: Dimensional Rift, he had appeared as an ally.

When the rift drove gods into madness…

When divine raids ravaged the world…

Only four gods remained sane and stood with humanity.

Five others had remained neutral.

‘Persephone, Poca… both of them were decent gods.’

The five neutral ones, on the other hand…

Were they the true masterminds?

The game had never confirmed it outright, but the fact that Mars was among them made it highly suspicious.

Especially since Episode 6: Nuclear War had strongly hinted that Mars was pulling the strings.

“You don’t need to worry anymore. The Wraith King is dead, and the Dark Jaguar Cult is practically annihilated. You know where their headquarters is, right? If you purge it, they won’t be a threat for centuries.”

“That is certainly welcome news. The Dark Jaguar Cult has tormented us for hundreds of years. However, I do not plan to eradicate them.”

“What? Why not?”

Poca placed both hands over his chest.

“Because the fate of death still looms over me.”

What was that supposed to mean?

Fate of death?

That phrase didn’t suit a god who was still alive all the way until Episode 9.

Even the developers had confirmed that he would survive Episode 10: The Great Apocalypse.

That was why they had been giving out quests and rewards involving him.

“Burning Smoke, my lord…”

“You will be safe!”

“We will protect you with our lives!”

“Neither dark gods nor demon kings nor wicked deities shall lay a hand on you!”

The Grand Patriarch, the high priests, and the paladins all shouted in unison.

Even the ones who had been pretending to hide joined in.

They clearly had no intention of actually remaining hidden.

Poca slowly shook his head.

“No. No matter how devoted you are, no matter how thoroughly you guard me, the Mirror of Fate has already been set. I was originally meant to be abducted four days ago—when death and darkness engulfed this city. My divinity and soul were to be extracted.”

Poca’s shimmering eyes locked onto me.

“But that fate was overturned. Instead of being kidnapped, tortured, and suffering before my demise, my fate changed to simple death. I don’t know when that death will come, but it is inevitable.”

“Wait, are you saying…?”

“Yes, that’s correct. The moment you drove your sword into the Warith King’s heart, my fate changed. You, the Savior of São Paulo. You, the Knight of Paul. You, the Sword Star of East Asia. You didn’t just save this city—you saved me as well.”

Clang!

The paladins knelt on one knee and drew their swords in salute.

A supreme gesture of respect—one they only ever showed to their Grand Patriarch, the Pope of the Mama Quilla Cult, and their God, Poca.

Even the Grand Patriarch bowed deeply.

For a brief moment, I felt something stir in my chest.

“I had no idea.”

“Of course not. You are not a prophet. Even the most gifted of seers cannot predict the fates of gods.”

That wasn’t what I meant.

I was talking about the discrepancy between the game and this world.

The butterfly effect.

Ever since I had been dropped into this world, my actions had created ripples that had turned into a storm over Brazil.

What if I hadn’t come to São Paulo?

What if I hadn’t predicted that the zombie crisis would unfold here, instead of in Seoul?

What if I had simply looked the other way?

The Saintess would have successfully abducted Poca.

And through some kind of ritual, she would have cemented both the world’s fate and my own.

I felt both a sense of satisfaction and a chill running down my spine.

A reminder—

I couldn’t afford to let my guard down.

The real battle was just beginning.

My true duel with the Saintess.

One mistake—one slip—would send me plummeting straight into the abyss.

“I did think the Grand Cathedral members seemed a bit overly cautious.”

“Of course. They already tend to be overprotective, and once the prophecy came, they became even worse. But I can’t blame them. I don’t want to die either. Until the fate of death passes me by, I need as much protection as possible.”

But what would they do if the Saintess came in person?

The Pope of the Mama Quilla Cult was Level 8.

Gods were even beyond that.

If they were fully divine, they would be Level 9, but having a physical body limited them to somewhere between Level 8 and Level 9.

A difficult position.

It would be great if another god could protect him, but that wasn’t an option.

Until Poca entered adolescence and fully solidified as a god, meeting with other Gods was strictly forbidden.

Even a mere encounter could lead to severe influence or erosion.

“That’s why my expectations of you are so high.”

“Me?”

“Yes. Occasionally, in this world, beings are born with the power to twist the fates of the divine. Such beings are called Sky Breakers, Heaven Defiers. You are one of them. And… you are special even among them.”

Poca suddenly lowered his voice.

He mouthed a single word.

[Outsider.]

Up until now, he had been speaking in English.

But this word—just this one—he spoke in Korean.

Which meant I could easily recognize it.

The Grand Patriarch likely already knew, but Poca must have wanted to keep it from the paladins and priests.

I gave a slight bow.

“Thank you for your consideration.”

“Think nothing of it. That being said… I hope that one day, you will help me.”

“I can’t make any promises.”

“When the time comes, our fates will inevitably cross. If you truly cannot, then so be it. But if you can… I would appreciate it if you did. And I will compensate you generously. In a manner fitting for a human.”

A manner fitting for a human…

I liked the sound of that.

Of course.

If I gave something, I should receive something in return.

Clap! Clap!

The Grand Patriarch clapped his hands.

Immediately, the priests channeled waves of divine energy into the air.

Or perhaps it should be called holy power rather than mana.

A pre-installed teleportation magic circle flared to life, and several magic chests materialized.

The Grand Patriarch personally lifted one and placed it before me.

“A gift from Burning Smoke.”

“You didn’t have to go this far…”

A familiar-looking magic chest.

The moment I opened it, the radiant glow of platinum burst forth.

A light I had rarely seen in my original world while playing the game—yet in this world, I had seen it far more frequently.

And within that light, a single magical weapon revealed itself.

“It was difficult to choose an appropriate gift for you.”

Poca added almost apologetically.

“You already wield Mjolnir, Aegis, Golden Fleece, The Eastern Tiger’s Sword, and artifacts crafted from golden dragons and phoenixes. Even your rings and necklaces are extraordinary. But I noticed… there was still something you lacked.”

The light faded.

A massive club-like object floated in the air.

No, calling it a club wasn’t quite right.

It was too thick.

And too long.

It had a handle and even sights.

Its surface was engraved with golden flame patterns inlaid with Celestial Gold.

Additionally, dark markings—like volcanic ash or smoke—were embedded into it.

[Mountain Wail.]

The pride of the Foca Cult.

The signature weapon of their paladins.

If the Thor Cult had Mjolnir and the Gaia Cult had Aegis, then the Mama Quilla Cult was known for its four heavy firearms:

— The Meteor Mortar

— The Steel Rain Machine Gun

— The Gale Grenade Launcher

— The Mountain Wail Rocket Launcher

When combined with the Moon Shadow full-body armor, the four heavy weapons turned their wielder into a walking land battleship.

Maybe it was because they were a religion that dominated the New World, but their divine artifacts were designed with a fundamentally different mindset from those of the Old World Gods.

“This is a completely unexpected gift. I will gratefully accept it.”

At one point, heavy firearms—especially grenade launchers—had practically been my main weapon.

I recalled the time I had been ambushed by human hunters and had wiped out a gang of drug-addled freaks with a grenade launcher.

I also remembered storming the Dagger Gang hideout—only to get blindsided by a rocket launcher.

Lately, I hadn’t had much use for heavy weapons.

After all, I could just imbue Mjolnir with Lightning and throw it instead.

But having one would make things easier.

No need to go through the hassle of enchanting thunderbolts or preparing anything in advance.

Just aim, inject mana, and fire.

And as a true divine artifact, it didn’t even require separate rockets.

Of course, if I wanted to use custom rockets or missiles, I could craft them myself.

A tailored enhancement catalyst rocket would make any opponent’s life utterly miserable.

“Sword Star, this is our Cult’s Paladin Insignia.”

The Mama Quilla Cult’s honorary Paladin Insignia.

Were they feeling competitive with the Thor and Gaia Cults?

The Grand Patriarch personally pinned it to the front of my uniform—ahead of the other two insignias.

The badge was extravagant.

Twice as large as the other two, adorned with Celestial Gold, Pure Silver, and small magic gemstones.

This wasn’t a normal paladin insignia.

It was Commander-level.

Among the Paladins, only the Grand Commander and the Crusader General wore this insignia.

The Grand Patriarch spoke proudly.

“This is no mere honorary title.”

“This insignia grants you actual command authority. At any time, in any place, for any reason, if you visit one of our Cult’s regional Grand Cathedrals or temples, you may issue orders to mobilize our paladins and crusaders. You will have immediate command over one paladin order and one crusader division.”

“You’re saying… it’s a command, not a request?”

“Yes, a direct command. As of this moment, you are not just an honorary knight commander of the Mama Quilla Cult—you hold true authority as well.”

This was… a bit much.

Essentially, it was power without responsibility.

One paladin order and one crusader division?

While the structure varied between Cults and roles, combat-oriented knight orders in this world typically numbered over 100 members, all at Level 3 or higher.

The inquisitorial Tracking Knights that had once fought alongside the Old Father’s Cult numbered only about 20, but that was an exception.

And a crusader division?

Most were ordinary people, but they were fully armed with divine weaponry.

Their numbers rivaled that of a standing military force—over 10,000 soldiers.

This meant that, if I so wished, I could command a full knight order and an entire division of crusaders without question.

That was a staggering amount of power.

Even if their military strength didn’t extend much beyond the New World.

“Thank you. I will always act with caution, knowing that you have entrusted me with this authority.”

“As long as you do not defy the Queen of the Moon or Burning Smoke, our Cult and our Foca Cult will always stand by your side.”

If only the Mama Quilla Cult had some influence in East Asia.

They had tremendous power, but they were just too far away.

In Arcane Seoul, they weren’t even ranked among the Six Powers—they were considered one of the Twelve Weak.

Poca gestured toward the Grand Patriarch.

“Give him that as well.”

“Oh! Of course, of course.”

Another round of gifts followed.

Elixirs, Nectar, top-tier potions, as well as exclusive alchemical concoctions and consumables from the Mama Quilla Cult.

Gold bars, cash, magical gemstones, and rare materials.

If I had to estimate the total value… it easily exceeded hundreds of billions.

Barely shy of 1 trillion won.

‘The Mama Quilla Cult is unbelievably rich.’

Even just Poca’s minor order had this much wealth.

It made sense, considering they practically ruled over the vast lands of Brazil.

“And finally…”

The Grand Patriarch handed me a long, slender storage case.

Curious, I opened it to find a single key inside.

As well as a hologram projection that flickered to life above the case.

It displayed the supersonic jet I had flown in on—

Now spinning in a brilliant blue hologram.

“We are gifting you an aircraft. It underwent full refurbishments last year, and we’ve installed a mana core in the hangar that will last at least ten years. Maintenance won’t be a burden.”

“Wait… you’re really giving this to me?”

“Hahaha. Compared to what you have done for Burning Smoke and our Cult, this is a mere trifle.”

A supersonic jet?!

This was worth at least hundreds of billions on its own.

In terms of rarity, the Mountain Wail Rocket Launcher was probably the most unique gift.

But to me—this jet was by far the most valuable.

A private aircraft.

The symbol of the ultra-wealthy.

No, not just the wealthy—the absolute elite.

And considering that my Red Cougar had been destroyed…

I had even rented a private jet just to come to Brazil.

At this moment, there was nothing more useful to me than this.

There wasn’t even a viable alternative.

I could barely stop myself from grinning like an idiot.

“Thank you, truly. I was just thinking about buying a jet—this will be an enormous help.”

“Hahaha! I’m glad you’re pleased.”

I carefully tucked away the key case.

The Grand Patriarch let out a hearty laugh as he watched me practically hug it.

Even Poca and the surrounding paladins and priests chuckled.

The air was warm with laughter and smiles.

“It still doesn’t feel like enough.”

Poca suddenly interjected.

“Is there anything else you want? Just say the word—we’ll do our best to provide it.”

I had already received a lot.

But considering that I had altered the fate of a god who was supposed to be abducted and sacrificed, this was actually modest.

No matter what I asked for, Poca would most likely grant it.

Should I request a fighter jet instead of a supersonic aircraft?

Ask for all four of the Cult’s heavy weapons?

Even demand the Moon Shadow full-body armor?

They would probably give it to me.

But ever since I had walked into this room—

I had already decided on what to request.

Locking eyes with Poca, I spoke clearly.

“I need divine blood.”

“Divine blood?”

“Yes. If possible, I would like the blood of your brother, Ehecatl.”

Ehecatl.

A God born in a similar manner to Poca, having stolen divinity from Quetzalcoatl.

A god of wind.

–TL Notes–

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