"Close your eyes."
Her gentle voice came as if to soothe him or lure him into a trap. Riktor, for one last time, glanced at the tree near his hut. It was tall and could be seen from anywhere in the village. Then, with a deep breath, his eyes closed.
"Now ask for blessing. If Magic God doesn't work, ask Metal God. Be as humble as possible."
'Magic God? Please blessing—tch!! Please bless me, Magic God.'
Riktor now had a frown on his forehead. He felt like something tried to enter through his head where the Priestess was pressing him gently, but it looked like it didn't connect with him.
"Nicely done. You don't have Magic God's blessing."
Opening his eyes, Riktor saw gloating villagers and even children smiling—or rather laughing—at him. His failure brought them strange joy. Riktor could only sigh. He was not disappointed; he just had no hope to begin with.
"Alright, children and Riktor, don't open your eyes until you've asked every god or awakened your Vein."
