To reach the next city with a Port Zone, he had to cross the Valley of the Exiled, an expanse of otherworldly lands covered by a miasma that slowly corrodes and withers everything it touches. Only monstrosities and creatures that do not belong to the world of the living inhabit it, Zombies, Skeletons, Ghosts, Malevolent Spirits, and Tormented Souls. It was home to witches, dark wizards, and occultists, where they performed perverse rituals, demonic summonings, offerings to the beyond, and sacrifices.

  The locals preferred to go around the Azoloth Mountain Range, but it would take them more than a week to reach the other side. Some went to the temple to seek a blessing that would protect them from the miasma and requested an escort from the adventurers' guild. The only way to traverse the valley was on foot, as the miasma's deterioration made any other means impossible.

  He had to prepare well before setting out, as he had unassigned points and did not hesitate to use them.

  “-30 AP”

  “Intelligence has increased to 40”

  “-30 AP”

  “Dexterity has increased to 44”

  “-30 AP”

  “Agility has increased to 40”

  “-20 AP”

  “Endurance has increased to 69”

  Camir headed to the temple to receive the blessing. He was also given a Silver Rosary after making a donation and praying to the god of suffering, Diaron.

  “You have obtained Silver Rosary ★★★★ (Blessed) (Archbishop Toru)”

  “Description: Immersed in holy water, it protects you from demons, vampires, malevolent spirits, and dark arts.”

  Before leaving the temple, a mystical voice resonated in his consciousness.

  “Diaron: Hero of Bellaris, we expect great things from you. This is not just a game. Do not stop.”

  Paralyzed, he couldn't help but dwell on the words in his mind.

  “What does he mean?”

  If this is not just a game, does that mean it's real, or does it have something to do with reality?

  Returning to the game, he saw several notifications.

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  “You have heard a divine voice.”

  “You have earned the title Emissary of the Gods.”

  “You have unlocked the attribute Faith.”

  “Faith +1,000,000,000”

  On his way to the Valley of the Exiled, he detected several players following him using Shark Eyes (Passive). A group of five, two on his right and three on his left, were stealthily moving through the bushes. Their levels were around 30, and they wore hoods and masks, making it impossible to see their faces or names.

  Cautiously, Camir continued forward as if nothing had happened, observing them subtly from the periphery of his vision. With his superior level, equipment, and stats, he knew he could easily defeat them. But unexpected things often happened, there was no shortage of people scheming and plotting in the shadows. So, he did not let his guard down. He remained alert and prepared for an imminent battle.

  “If they plan to ambush me, I’ll ambush them first.”

  Abruptly turning around and making exaggerated gestures, he shouted at the top of his lungs, alarming all his pursuers.

  “Vampire!”

  They all turned around, trying to locate the supposed vampire. Meanwhile, Camir activated Thirst for Hunting (Active), swiftly drawing a dagger and lunging at the nearest enemy to his right.

  The dagger’s blade sank into the man’s flesh like butter, sliding effortlessly through his aorta.

  Splurt!

  With a scream of agony, he collapsed onto the ground, powerless.

  Just as his closest companion began to turn around to see what was happening, a dagger flew in his direction. With no time to react, he could only curse his bad luck.

  Splurt!

  Without bothering to retrieve the dagger, Camir pulled out his bow. Using the vegetation for cover, he vanished like a ghost. Hidden in the shadows, the remaining three had no idea what was happening. They only saw their companions' bodies in the distance, one of them with a dagger lodged in his throat.

  Before they could recover their composure, arrows imbued with water whistled through the air.

  Swosh! Swosh! Swosh!

  A vortex filled with piranhas engulfed them, consuming them entirely, leaving no bones behind.

  Approaching the body with the dagger embedded, Camir retrieved his weapon and removed the mask. It was a man of around 40 years old. Surprisingly, when he removed the mask, he realized it was an NPC since his name displayed as Follower of the God of Chaos.

  In their pockets, they carried restriction scrolls, offensive scrolls, defensive scrolls, and stealth scrolls. If not for Shark Eyes (Passive), their ambush would have succeeded. Collecting all the scrolls and storing them in his belt pouch, he continued his journey.

  “How is it possible for an NPC to attack me?”

  “Does this have something to do with the God of Chaos?”

  “Maybe what the god Diaron said was true. If that’s the case, I’m in danger, but in the game, you can’t die for real, right?”

  “If the game doesn’t affect reality but is somehow connected to it, that means I’m in danger in real life as well.”

  “All of this is too confusing and suspicious.”