Chapter 135: The Last Sidequest (1/2)
“So, if I understand right, you want advice on how to change mortals’ perception of you?” Victor asked the goddess Cybele, scribbling notes while they sat on fungi thrones around a mushroom table.
“Most mortals only remember me for the pleasure aspect of my portfolio,” the goddess complained, her face and body hidden beneath a white cowl. “I cannot shake the stereotype and it bothers me. The few times mortals acknowledge my focus on nature and forests, they only imagine wild orgies in the woods; even my early sponsorship of Mithras, when he was a mortal [Paladin], has been forgotten. I thought that as a professional prophet, you might have ideas to help my church’s reputation… perform better.”
“It is true that this stereotype is widespread,” Victor admitted, and it was the main reason he had even considered worshiping her in the first place.
As expected of Cybele, forests and natural locations made up most of her planar realm, with a strange focus on fungi. Victor found their current, grove-like location quite relaxing after the previous dimensions. Especially after visiting Deathjester’s realm in particular.
So many traps...
“Is something wrong?” Cybele asked, Victor shuddering as he remembered that prophet session. “Was that too much to swallow?”
“It was nothing,” the Vizier promised, adjusting his fungi throne. The plant squealed as he did so, much to his shock. “Nothing at all.”
“I also wished to apologize for our last meeting,” the goddess said with warmth, the mere sight of her face having almost killed the [Reaper]. “I am glad that you managed to tighten through the Kamacybele.”
“I asked for it, and the [Fiendish Rake] class was worth the hassle,” Victor replied. “Speaking of your condition, I have perhaps a solution.”
“There is none,” Cybele replied with a heavy sigh. “I tried everything to solve this issue. But I appreciate the attention, Victor.”
“Through Mag Mell’s captured soul, I have gained an understanding of Soulcrests and Black Crests, and how they interact with souls,” Victor argued. “You said you had Ludvic’s charisma before you ascended?”
The goddess nodded. “My current charisma score is the result of the [Deity] class, which juices up my original stats.”
“So it only builds upon the original charisma stat.” As Victor had guessed. “In this case, have you tried an amulet like Ludvic’s?”
“Yes, but they cannot affect a deity. I cannot be debuffed by any profane effect.”
“Then I believe that with my current knowledge, resources, and your assistance, I could create an artifact version that would reduce your original charisma stat. Perhaps enough to counteract the inflation from your [Deity] class.”
It couldn’t be more complicated than creating a Soulcrest, or a Black one. Black Crests in particular were… not a cheat, but an exploit in the system. They passively shored up magic, then boosted the user’s soul to trigger a very specific class and a set of Personal Perks. Unfortunately, [Fairy Beast] prevented the user from receiving any experience afterward, trapping them in their current state.
All in all, it meant that while the System’s rules couldn’t be broken, they had loopholes that one could exploit.
“You will have my gratitude if you succeed,” Cybele replied, before adding with cynicism. “But I remain skeptical.”
Well, Victor liked his odds. “For your image, I believe you need to add more prestige to your priests.”
This offended the goddess. “Are you saying that it is not prestigious to serve under me?”
“Not at all, milady,” Victor replied quickly while taking a deferential tone. Unlike a Seng or a Vainqueur, Cybele didn’t need to be flattered, but she expected respect. “But they are too accessible. I mean, the first time I met Allison, we couldn't arrange a friendly date because she was overbooked managing werewolf orgies. If you are too easy with your worshipers, then they will take you for granted.”
“But I believe in free love and happiness for everyone,” Cybele replied. “Except for Sablar and his worshipers, whom I strike with infertility.”
“Well, I—” Victor frowned. “Wait, you can do that?”
“Victor, I am the goddess of agriculture, and thus fertility. I can turn it on and off for any mortal.” Her fingers fidgeted in subtle embarrassment. “This is how I curse people who annoy me. Why? I cannot make you infertile, Victor; I bet too much on your family line.”
“Oh no. I would have asked before I actually had kids, but now that I realize they are cute and wonderful and that I love them and I want as many as I ca—” Victor suddenly calmed himself, before he went into another dad rant. “But, isn’t there a way to turn it on and off? It would remove many headaches.”
“I do not understand.”
“Lady Cybele, look at me.” Victor extended his arms. “I am easy.”
The goddess marked a short pause, as if he had stated the Earth was round. “I know. That is why I Claimed you.”
“But since I made myself easy, now everyone takes me for granted and wants a piece of me,” Victor argued. “It was flattering at first, but now I literally had to clone myself to complete important work. You have the same problem; you and your priests are so nice, that you are taken for granted.”
Charisma check successful.
The goddess shifted in her seat, a bit uncomfortable. “My vestals and followers can say no to pleasurable activities. I strongly believe in the right to consent or not. My problem is that people only approach my priests for these activities, instead of other services.”
“That is why I suggest putting separation between various religious services,” Victor said. “A time for blessing the fields, a time to provide ancient knowledge, etc… this will allow you to weed out false worshipers only interested in indoor activities, and cater to potential followers interested in other aspects of your portfolio.”
The goddess silently pondered the proposal.
“Instead of having vestals providing pleasurable services to everyone all the time, I suggest making sacred prostitution a special occasion once a month,” Victor pressed his point, “Make your religious service a big ceremony where supplicants must follow a strict protocol to receive ancient wisdom, bless the fields to favor fertility, and then have the kinky stuff at the end.”
It worked for the Greeks’ oracles. Cybele only had to do like every civilization, copy them, and rebrand their ideas.
“So you suggest improving my godly prestige by making access to my vestals something rare and exclusive?” the goddess asked, Victor nodding. “You know you sound a bit too much like Shesha?”
“Maybe, but does it make it any less true?” Victor smiled behind his helmet, having pinpointed her problem. “Do you want people to like you, or to respect you?”
Charisma check successful!
Cybele nodded to herself with newfound enthusiasm. “A ceremony that honors all my portfolio without a singular focus on one domain…”
Well, Victor knew that it would always be about pleasure for some people, but it was her best chance to rework her image. “How about the ‘Greenhand Reunion’ for your ceremony’s title?”
“How about the Sutra Cybele?” the goddess replied, making Victor squint behind his helmet; unfortunately, she took his silence for something else. “Sutra Cybele it is.”
Reforming her image was going to be a tough and difficult war. “So about the fertility issue, it is not that I don't want any new kids now; but I want to know when and with whom I have them. Exclusivity and rarity.”
“In that case, if you do not want a child, you simply have to say a safe word,” Cybele said. “Scream my name.”
Well, won’t that be awkward. But at least it removed a thorn in his foot. “Thank you, Lady Cy—”
Ping!
Cybele seemed rather surprised. “But the time is not up yet!”
“Minion… minion… minion!”
Not even the gods could prevent Vainqueur from summoning Victor to his side, as his body was torn from Cybele’s planar realm and brought back to his friend’s hoard.
“Minion…” Vainqueur whispered, sitting on his golden hoard. “There you are… there you are, minion...”
“Your Majesty?” Victor frowned, surprised by his master’s voice. “Why are you whispering? Are we being listened to?”
“I sang for a day and a half…” Vainqueur rasped, massaging his neck with his hand. “My throat is sore…”
A day and a half? Gods damn it, the pantheon won’t let him get anything done.
As if to answer his thoughts, Kia teleported in the vault in a flash of bright light, ignoring just about every magical defense they had set in place. “Thanks for the lift, Lady Leone!” the [Paladin] shouted, before turning to the V&V members. “Here you are.”
“Manling Kia… heal my golden voice…” Vainqueur ordered, the shining knight casting a [Full Heal] spell on the dragon. A second later, the dragon could again speak normally. “Better. Now I can sing once again!”
“No!” Kia panicked, much to Vainqueur’s displeasure. “I mean, Your Majesty floored the entire planet already!”
Finally, after so much time spent around dragons, she had learned how to handle them. Almost.
“Minion, why should I deprive the world of this pleasure?” the dragon asked pompously.
“If Your Majesty does it again, it will lose its luster!” Victor came to her support. “Please, do not turn this imperishable memory into something mundane! Let the bards sing for you instead!”
“Excellent idea, minion,” Vainqueur said. “Order Pink Ranger to create a new war song, to inspire my troops as they carry on to our inevitable victory.”
That may have been even worse.
“About that, we have just enough time before the invasion of Prydain to finally do this dungeon sidequest,” Kia said, still determined to claim its prize, “and obtain the [Plot Armor].”
“I received a divine mission to participate in it as well,” Victor added. “If only to meet one of the nominees.”