"The Contract – This World’s System That I Don’t Understand"

  According to Ingrid, this "contract" binds the involved parties under the name of the gods. Naturally, such a system didn’t exist in FBO.

  Between the "Duel Pieces" and now this "contract," anything reted to the gods suddenly renders my game knowledge useless.

  "Never thought I’d end up coming here like this…""Has Libertà-sama visited the cathedral before?""…Yeah, a long time ago."

  I told Nell and Amina that we were going out to run some errands. But the pce Ingrid and I actually headed to was the Grand Cathedral—the same one that had served as an evacuation shelter for the capital’s citizens during the Stampede.

  The towering structure was so massive that, back in the game days, I might have seen it more often than my own parents’ faces.

  In the game, it was a major respawn point, but in this world—where resurrection isn’t even a known concept—it’s purely a pce of worship for the gods. When asked if I’d been here before, I couldn’t exactly say "back in the game," so I just vaguely confirmed that I had.

  Fortunately, Ingrid didn’t press further.

  Come to think of it, this was treated as a respawn point in the game, but does this world even have revival magic? Back then, revival spells were just another ordinary skill to resurrect on the spot, but how does that work here?

  If "resurrecting the dead" were possible as a skill here, things could get pretty insane.

  "Libertà-sama?""Ah, my bad. Let’s go.""Yes."

  Either way, I’m not in an environment where I can train healers, so I’ll shelve that thought for now.

  I kept staring at the cathedral until Ingrid tilted her head and asked if something was wrong. Shaking my head, I pretended it was nothing and followed her inside.

  After the recent chaos, I expected it to be crowded, but most of the evacuees had already left, so it wasn’t too packed.

  "Welcome. Are you here for prayer?"

  In front of the cathedral’s massive doors stood a knight cd in white full-pte armor. Unlike the kingdom’s knights, this one was a "Holy Knight," serving the cathedral directly.

  According to the game’s lore, only the most elite among the faithful could attain that rank.

  Passing through the entrance they guarded, we stopped before what looked like a reception desk.

  The sister who greeted us wore the same bck habit as in the game.

  "No, today we’d like to request a Contract Ceremony.""Pardon me, but the Contract Ceremony is a sacred act with the gods. As such, it’s not something just anyone can—""I am Ingrid of House Grülle. Here is our crest, as well as a small donation. Please use it in service of the gods.""Ah, this is indeed the Grülle crest… Understood. I’ll confirm with the high priest. Please wait a moment."

  In the game, this pce was just a respawn point where NPCs silently watched pyers revive and pass by.

  The lore investigation team had scoured the cathedral for hidden events, but nothing was ever found. Even the self-procimed "top detective" among pyers boasted that he couldn’t find anything here—there were barely any NPCs, and accessible areas were minimal.

  Some specuted that triggering events elsewhere might unlock something here, but in reality, there was nothing.

  Just a pce to respawn.

  Yet in this world, apparently, donating money does make things happen.

  The bag Ingrid handed over contained 5,000 Zeni—about 500,000 yen.

  Contracts are a staple in fantasy settings, but here, according to Ingrid, the ceremony is a sacred ritual only permitted for those with substantial donations and established credibility.

  I provided the money, while House Grülle, it seems, is a regur participant in these contracts. They’re so obsessively devoted to keeping promises that they’d stake their lives on it—so much so that the high priest recognizes them on sight. No appointment needed, as long as you donate.

  Apparently, even royalty has to book in advance.

  "Oh! Lady Ingrid! It’s been too long!""High Priest, it’s good to see you well.""Hmm, if you’re here, then…""Yes, we’d like to request a Contract Ceremony.""Normally, it wouldn’t be so simple, but for House Grülle… Very well. The ceremony will commence in one hour. In the meantime, draft the contract terms with the scribe.""Understood."

  So they really do have face recognition privileges here.

  Wait, just what kind of family is House Grülle?

  Ingrid had described them as nothing more than a lineage of overly earnest bureaucrats, but this treatment screams VIP.

  There was no "Grülle" family among FBO’s named characters. And in the game, characters with strong church ties usually held major positions.

  …Did they get wiped out before the main story?

  "…? Libertà-sama, is something wrong?""No, just impressed by the service.""Our only merit is our sincerity."

  If someone took advantage of that sincerity… well, it wouldn’t be impossible.

  I gnced at Ingrid, but oblivious to such possibilities, she just tilted her head bnkly as usual.

  So I pyed along, murmuring about how polite the high priest was.

  "Now, let us formalize the contract’s terms before the ceremony begins.""Yes, please.""Understood.""This contract will be between Ingrid Grülle and Libertà—is that correct?""Yes, that’s correct."

  After that, we were led to a separate room where a sister, acting as scribe, began writing on what looked like parchment with a quill.

  "Now, the details of the contract—""I, Ingrid Grülle, shall be forbidden from disclosing any information taught to me by Libertà-sama to any third party.""…And the duration? If unspecified, it will default to a lifetime."

  The sister wrote smoothly, without hesitation, then asked Ingrid if the wording was acceptable. After a nod, she inquired about the duration.

  "A lifetime is fine.""Understood. Any other cuses?""Libertà-sama, do you have anything to add?"

  This would ensure Ingrid couldn’t leak the knowledge I’d given her.

  Remembering how that Dassé guy clutched his head in pain during the duel, this should be enough.

  But I had one concern.

  "I have a question.""Yes, what is it?"

  "How exactly is 'teaching' defined in this contract?""What do you mean?""For example, if I say 'tomorrow’s weather will be sunny,' does that count as imparting information? Things like that happen all the time.""Hmm…""So if I teach something and want her to pass it on, would even reying it be impossible?""…That would likely be the case. It depends on the gods’ will, but this contract covers all knowledge passed from you to Lady Ingrid. If her understanding is overwritten by your teachings, she may be unable to share even that with others."

  As I thought—if we’d gone through with this as-is, it would’ve been a disaster.

  This could’ve messed up her daily life.

  "Then let’s add a cuse: 'Information may be shared with third parties only if explicitly permitted, with duration specified.'"

  A conditional exception for authorized disclosures.

  "Libertà-sama, are you sure?""Yeah, this works."

  This way, adjustments could be made ter.

  Ingrid’s expression shifted slightly—just a faint widening of her eyes, but enough to tell she was surprised.

  "Understood. Any other changes?""No, nothing from me.""Same here.""Then please proceed with the blood seal."

  I only suggested it for practicality, but I guess it is surprising?

  More importantly—a blood seal, huh?

  Well, given the gods’ involvement, I suppose it makes sense.

  The sister handed me a needle. Its tip looked sharp.

  "First, write your name here. Then, like this—"

  Unsure of the process, I hesitated until Ingrid demonstrated.

  She wrote her name at the bottom of the parchment, pricked her thumb lightly, let a drop of blood well up, then pressed it beside her name.

  Once the bloody fingerprint was set, she pulled away.

  "Your hand, please.""Yes."

  The sister wiped Ingrid’s finger with a clean cloth and healed it with a quick spell.

  "Can you do it? Apologies, but this must be done of your own will—otherwise, the contract is void.""It can be invalidated?""Yes. If the participant is intoxicated, coerced, or otherwise unwilling, the contract won’t take effect. Once sealed, this parchment will be offered to the gods, turning to light. That light splits three ways: one to the gods, the other two to you both, completing the contract.""And if it fails?""Divine fmes will consume the parchment, burning until nothing remains—proof of its invalidity.""I see."

  So that’s how they prevent fraud.

  Clever.

  I picked up the quill to sign—then froze.

  "Is something wrong?"

  Should I really write 'Libertà'?

  It’s the name I go by now, and I do consider it mine.

  But if my past name is my "true" one, should I use that instead?

  "Well… I changed my name due to circumstances. I go by this one now, but should I use the old one?""Ah, some nobles renounce their house names when leaving their families. Your current name is acceptable—as long as it’s not an alias?""No, I live under this name.""Then the gods will permit it.""Got it."

  Reassured, I wrote Libertà smoothly, then mimicked Ingrid—pricking my left thumb, letting blood bead up, and pressing it to the parchment.

  "…This will suffice."

  The sister inspected both seals, then looked at us.

  "Now, a preservation spell will be applied. No further changes can be made—understood?""Yes.""Understood.""Very well."

  With a final glow, the parchment was sealed.

  Preservation Magic—a skill that normally prevents item degradation.

  So it locks the contract’s state, forbidding edits.

  Huh. Other skills might have alternate uses too.

  "We’re done. Please wait here until the high priest finishes preparations. Feel free to drink the water provided. I’ll take my leave now.""Thank you.""Thank you.""It’s my duty as a servant of the gods. May Their blessings be upon you."

  With the groundwork complete, I’d even stumbled upon something useful.

  As the sister left, Ingrid spoke up.

  "Libertà-sama, would you like some water?""Sure.""Of course."

  Now, all that’s left is to wait.

  So… what kind of ceremony awaits me in this world I don’t fully understand?

  I’m curious—but equally nervous.

  "Here you go.""Thanks."

  Taking the wooden cup, I drank.

  For now, I’ll just wait calmly.