Chapter 236: To Ferderica’s Holy Land (3)

Riltara sat there, chewing on the jerky with a distant look in her eyes. She had lost all control of her pace, devouring the meat so quickly that it was almost alarming. Ketal watched her, amused by the unfamiliar scene.

She coughed suddenly, pounding her chest as a piece caught in her throat. “

Cough, cough

!”

Without missing a beat, Ketal offered her a cup. “Here, drink this.”

Riltara took it with trembling hands, drinking deeply. At first, she didn’t notice anything unusual until the flavor burst across her tongue. This wasn’t just ordinary water. It was a sweet drink, infused with the juices of fresh fruit, cold and fragrant.

Her eyes widened in shock. The taste and aroma of real fruit, something she’d never experienced in her life, made her dizzy with sensation. Even after clearing her throat, she found herself gulping down the rest, unable to stop.

She emptied the cup and sat there, dazed.

“

Ah...

” she murmured, voice barely audible. Her expression had gone blank, lost in the swirl of new sensations. For a moment, she looked as if she’d been given a narcotic. They say the sugar addiction could surpass even drugs—and perhaps, for someone like her, it truly did.

She kept reaching for more jerky, stuffing her mouth in near silence. Each bite was accompanied by a suppressed moan, a sound she tried and failed to conceal. However, as the meal wore on, her movements began to slow. Eventually, her hand stopped altogether.

Smiling, Ketal asked her quietly, “Are you full?”

“Yes...,” Riltara replied, barely above a whisper.

“How does it feel?” he pressed, voice gentle.

She stared down at her hands, feeling a strange heaviness in her belly. “I feel... full. My stomach is full.”

He nodded. “I thought so.”

It was such a simple thing to say, but it struck her with the weight of revelation. For her entire life, she had never experienced this sensation. Now, for the first time, she realized what it meant to be free from hunger.

“My body feels heavy,” she admitted. “But... there’s no pain.”

The constant ache that had lived with her as long as she could remember, the gnawing emptiness, was simply gone. For the first time, she felt only peace.

“That must have been the feeling of hunger,” Ketal said. “An unpleasant sensation, isn’t it?”

“Hunger...” she echoed, eyes distant. She had lived her whole life with that feeling, and she had always believed it was simply the way things were. Now, she understood for the first time that it was not. The realization struck her so hard she snapped out of her reverie, heart pounding.

No! Ferderica, please... I wasn’t tempted by pleasure! I only did this so Ketal wouldn’t abandon us!

she insisted to herself.

I wasn’t seduced by flavor! I just... I just didn’t want him to leave.

However, she couldn’t deny that she had enjoyed the taste. She had found pleasure in the sensation. A profound sense of shame and guilt welled up inside her.

When the meal ended, the group pressed on, continuing their journey. A holy knight approached her cautiously, concern clear in their eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly.

“I’m fine,” Riltara replied, biting her lip.

She couldn’t let herself fall any deeper into temptation. The memory of those flavors lingered, but she forced herself to push them away. She clung to her resolve, reminding herself over and over that she had no need for such sensations.

As they walked, time passed in silence. However, before long, Riltara noticed something odd.

My stomach...

The fullness faded, replaced by the familiar ache of hunger. It crept back in, bringing a scowl to her face. Only now did she realize just how unpleasant the feeling truly was.

“It’s about time,” Ketal said, breaking the silence. As evening settled in, he began preparing their next meal, pulling out cooking tools and fresh ingredients.

“You’re not making jerky this time?” Riltara asked, watching him.

“Something simple,” Ketal said, already working skillfully. Fire flickered, a pot grew warm, and soon, the ingredients transformed before her eyes.

To Riltara, it was like watching a play, one she’d never seen before. She had never watched anyone cook, never seen food become something beautiful. She stared, entranced, as the colors and smells filled the camp.

Before long, Ketal finished and handed her a plate.

“I thought something too rich might be overwhelming, so we’ll start simple. Pasta. You’ve never had it, have you?”

“No,” Riltara admitted.

The dish was oil pasta, thin noodles glistening with a sheen of golden oil, dotted with herbs. They shimmered like jewels in the firelight. Ketal offered her the plate, and Riltara closed her eyes, steeling herself, then took a bite.

That night, for the second time in her life, she ate until she was full.

***

After dinner, it was time to prepare for sleep. The knights made their humble beds as usual, but Ketal stopped Riltara as she was laying down.

“What are you doing? You need to wash first,” Ketal said.

Riltara blushed, suddenly self-conscious. She knew she was dirty as she could smell herself. On hotter days, insects would have swarmed around her.

“I-I have kept clean, at least a little,” she stammered.

She had done her best, but the most she’d managed was wiping down with a rag. She had never truly bathed. Ketal nodded, as if understanding.

“Then it’s time for a proper wash.”

“But there’s no river here. We don’t have enough water...”

“That’s not a problem. Come forth,” Ketal said, raising his hand.

A moment later, Fiego, the great fire spirit, appeared with a swirl of blazing light. Riltara’s eyes went wide.

“A Legendary spirit!” Riltara gaped in awe at Fiego, who stared back with something like annoyance.

“What do you want?” the spirit demanded.

“Can you purify this woman’s filth?” Ketal asked it.

“That’s what you summoned me for? Fine... I can do it.”

At once, flames engulfed Riltara’s body, wrapping her in searing light. She flinched, but soon realized the fire was harmless. Instead, it burned away every trace of dirt and grime from her clothes, her skin, even her hair.

“It’s done,” Fiego announced, vanishing with a sigh.

Riltara stared at her own arms in shock. Her skin was pale; she hadn’t seen it so clean in years.

“My skin...?”

“You’re malnourished, so your skin’s rough, and your nails are split. You need to eat well,” Ketal observed.

The unpleasant feeling that had always clung to her vanished with the filth. She realized that the discomfort wasn’t normal. It was just the effect of always being dirty.

However, Ketal wasn’t finished. “Here. This is a bed. Sleep on it tonight.”

He produced, seemingly from nowhere, a small bed from his magic pouch. It was soft, with thick blankets and a real pillow.

“Thank you...,” she said, uncertain.

She lay down, careful at first, then relaxed into the softness. It felt like floating on air. She had always slept on the cold, hard ground, without so much as a blanket. This was the first time she had ever experienced true comfort.

“

Ah...

” she sighed, unable to help herself.

The feeling was so unfamiliar, it was almost uncomfortable. Yet her exhausted body melted into the bed, and she drifted off within moments.

***

When she woke the next morning, the sun was already high in the sky.

“How long did I sleep?” she wondered aloud.

“Seven hours. You slept deeply,” Ketal replied.

Until now, Riltara had never slept longer than two hours at a time, always waking to pray. With a proper bed and a full stomach, she had finally tasted real rest. For the first time, she felt refreshed.

One by one, the things she had always accepted as normal were proven to be nothing but illusions.

As the journey continued, Ketal showed her more and more new experiences. The flavor of food grew richer, the smell of clean clothes became intoxicating, and the warmth of thick blankets made her never want to rise. They played games she had never heard of, shared stories from worlds she could barely imagine.

With each passing day, Riltara felt a growing sense of unease.

What kind of world have I been living in?

she wondered.

There’s so much I don’t know. So many sensations I’ve never experienced. All this time, I believed I was living according to the will of my god—but was I really just ignorant? Was I... misunderstanding everything?

No. It can’t be. It’s not possible. I grew up in the holy land. All the faithful lived as I did. If I’m wrong, then we’re all wrong. That can’t be.

Desperate to reassure herself, she pulled out her old jerky—the only food she had ever known before Ketal. She put it in her mouth and chewed.

She gagged.

It was disgusting, almost inedible. The smell was nauseating. She forced herself to swallow and tried to wash it down with water, but the taste was even worse, thick with the stench of old leather.

Is this what I’ll have to eat for the rest of my life?

The thought filled her with horror.

With every new joy Ketal introduced, her old faith, her old values, began to crack. She wanted to turn away, to reject all further pleasure, to cling to what she had always believed. However, she couldn’t. If she turned away, Ketal would leave. She had no choice but to accept his temptations.

She clutched her head, torn apart by the conflict inside her. Even the sweet scent of perfume, another of Ketal’s gifts, seemed to mock her struggle.

What is that smell?

she wondered, sniffing the air.

After a moment, she realized it was the fragrance from the bottle Ketal had given her. She let out a hollow laugh, half in despair, half in resignation.

All the while, Ketal pondered in delight.

What should I teach her next?

There was nothing more entertaining than showing a child the wonders of the world for the first time. Every day, he brought her a new delight—new food, new games, new comforts, new stories.

If you give someone who’s only ever known dry bread a taste of sweet fruit, what happens to their faith?

he mused.

Can any believer withstand such temptation?

He couldn’t help but laugh, thoroughly enjoying himself.

***

“Are you having fun?” Riltara asked Ketal one day.

Ketal glanced at her, taking a step on the ground. They were playing a game that Ketal had enjoyed when he was a child called

ttang-tta-meok-gi

—a Korean land-claiming game. It was a simple game drawn in the dirt. With each step, he claimed more ground.

“What do you mean, all of a sudden?” he replied.

“Is it so enjoyable to tempt a believer? To corrupt me for your own amusement?” Her voice was icy.

Ketal shrugged. “I suppose it is. It’s entertaining to watch someone who knows nothing discover so much.”

“It’s just temptation. This is your trial to corrupt me,” she spat.

“Perhaps,” Ketal agreed. “Of all the things I’ve shown you, was there a single one you already knew?”

She fell silent. There was nothing—she had known none of it. Her whole life had been within the holy land, where deprivation and ignorance were all she’d ever known.

“This is the real world, Riltara. You weren’t following Ferderica’s will. You simply didn’t know any better,” Ketal said softly.

“Don’t try to tempt me,” she said through clenched teeth. “I am a faithful servant of Ferderica. No matter what you show me, that will not change.”

She moved decisively, marking another line in the dirt, claiming more territory.

“What you’ve shown me... I’m grateful for that. It only makes my faith stronger.”

“Is that so?” Ketal replied, watching her with interest.

Despite everything, her conviction remained unshaken. She still believed. He had to admire that.

“I win,” Ketal declared at last.

“

Ah

,” Riltara murmured, her confidence faltering.

He stood by, waiting as she remained frozen in place.

“Want to play again?” he asked her.

“If you ask, I have no choice but to accept,” she replied quickly. It was clear that the decision was his, not hers. He grinned, drawing new lines in the earth, already planning the next game.