What else? Was the Fallen One going to burden me with nightly vigils, fasts and shaman dances around the altar? Why would he need to? He's a young god; he needed deeds and actions, not symbols and rituals. He could set you up with a quest or ask of you something you wouldn't be able to refuse. At least as far as gods went, he was all right. He wasn't a grabbing god, on the contrary: until now, he seemed to be the one who protected and nurtured us while he could have easily fixed us up with some vicious debuff you couldn't remove until you either prayed or paid your way out. No, AI 311 knew everything about motivation. I didn't think he was capable of any dirty tricks.

Now, the responsibilities overload could be a problem, sure. What was it Lena's mom had said? It was the retinue that made the king... Few kings were brilliant economists, generals or sociologists. They didn't need to be. As Comrade Stalin used to say, cadres are key. And for once he was right.

Responsibility, that's what scares us. All our lives we're trying to avoid it, wriggling our way out of school and college commitments, afraid of starting a family or business, unable to start a conversation with a girl or break an overeager bully's nose. Wasn't it time we stopped running?

Besides, the Fallen One had granted me one advance too many. And I had indeed promised him to help and restore the Pantheon. I gave my word to the Dragon, too. To quit now you had to be a thankless ingrate with no self-respect. Time to stand up for one's principles.

I opened my eyes, bit my lower lip and exhaled, pressing the button:

Yes.

 

Congratulations! You have been successfully promoted to a unique post: The First Priest.

Being the First Priest, you are entitled to additional skills granted to your position as well as those granted by the High God of your religion and from each of the Pantheon gods. Unlike the Fallen One's regular worshippers who are required to choose a particular patron god of the Dark, the First Priest has default access to all of the Pantheon's skills and blessings. The number of available skills depends on the First Priest's level which is always equal to that of the First Temple. Current level: 3.

 

New positional skills acquired:

Ordination. The First Priest has the authority to ordain any Dark worshipper. The maximum number of the world's priests cannot exceed the number of temples multiplied by 10. Current figures: 10/50

Excommunication. The First Priest has the authority to anathemize any Dark worshipper. Duration of excommunication: from 24 hrs. to eternity. Cooldown: 24 hrs.

Appeal to Gods. The First Priest has the authority to appeal directly to any of the Dark Gods who will always hear his plea even though he won't necessarily reply.

Outcast. The First Priest has the authority to proclaim any of AlterWorld inhabitants a Religious Outcast who will then become fair prey to all Dark worshippers, to the point where anyone who kills a Religious Outcast will receive a considerable amount of Faith points that are necessary for religious rank growth and choice of skills offered by their Patron God. The Mark of Outcast disappears after its bearer's death at the hands of a Dark follower. Cooldown: 24 hrs.

Blessing: a raid buff

Effect: +25 to all types of magic resistance, 10% to physical damage resistance

Duration: 12 hrs.

Ingredient: Spark of Dark Flame. Can be acquired by a lump sum donation of 5,000 gold to the Altar.

 

Congratulations! You've learned the spells:

Personal Portal to the First Temple

Cast time: 6 sec

Mana expenditure: 300

Group Portal to the First Temple

Cast time: 9 sec

Mana expenditure: 1100

 

Congratulations! You've learned the skills:

Patron God: the Fallen One

Shadow of the Fallen One. Allows you to conceal your name, religion and clan affiliation, temporarily changing your relationship with all races to neutral.

Duration: 1 hr.

Cooldown: 24 hrs.

Shield of Faith. Gives complete mana regeneration and 30-sec immunity to all types of damage.

Cooldown: 24 hrs.

 

Congratulations! The First Priest has taken his place by the Altar! 5,000 points Fame received!

 

Fame alert!

Your Fame has exceeded 23,000 points!

You have reached Fame level 6: Your name is written in the history of the world.

 

Oh. I exchanged glances with my inner greedy pig as we reached out to feel each other's virtual biceps. That had been a generous downpour of freebies indeed. Even though not all of the skills gave you a permanent boost, my character's sociopolitical importance had grown manifold. I still couldn't clearly see all the prospects and potential scenarios for using these particular skills, but my gut feeling was telling me I had been dealt a handful of trumps, not of dribs and drabs.

I looked over at the altar. The cracks in the shimmering stone had resealed, the air around it humming with a powerful energy flow. It felt a bit like standing under an electric power cable of, say, five hundred kilowatt. You could almost see the surge of its physical power rush up to be swallowed by the grimy ceiling, then disappear into some unknown astral plane. Was it the Fallen One siphoning the channel, enjoying a quick mana high? I was going to close the tap on him in a moment. I had my own plans for that mana fountain, not to forget the greedy dragon demanding his share of the mana pie. I just hoped that I was the First Priest not in fancy name only; I had to be able to control the Temple when needs be.

I lay my hand on the altar, highlighting it and activating the interaction regime. It exploded with cascades of opening windows. That got me thinking. I'd just done what any regular player would have, highlighting an object, then right-clicking it. That was my old gaming reflex getting the better of me. Still, the Fallen One was my witness that I'd done so for the first time in the last week. The rest of the time my interactions with game objects hadn't differed from real-life ones: you pick it up—you study it—then use it, no interface crutches involved. Which meant that all the little buttons and menus kept integrating into my new reality, commonplace actions and skills replacing gaming elements.

I studied myself, looking for anything different from the default layout. Anything unusual, anything missing? Immediately I noticed the first thing out of place: the quick access menu. The ten little slots in the corner of the screen had disappeared—don't even ask me when or where to—and these days I instinctively reached for the tiny pockets on my belt without even looking, feeling for the right vial in the heat of the fight.

I counted them: eight. Well. Where were the remaining two, then? Let's try it.

I pulled a new vial out of the bag and tried to shove it down a non-existent pocket in my belt. My fingers touched the hard leather, pushing against the steel rivets, then finally felt the opening and shoved the vial into the little pocket. Nine! It worked!

I peered at the little loop suspiciously, then pulled the vial out expecting the opening to disintegrate. As if! Its bandolier-like dark eye kept staring at me, showing no intention of disappearing. Disappointed, I looked away and blinked, detecting a blurred motion out of the corner of my eye. I stared back at the belt. Eight. Funny that.

Now another test, even more important than the first. I pulled two more elixirs out of my bag and brought the amount of little pockets to ten. Then I relaxed, trying to concentrate on other things, and without looking shoved the eleventh elixir down my belt. Wasn't it great? Well done! Now that could give us a considerable advantage over regular players. That was something to consider and to look into—a new direction to take.