This game world contains something called “fateful opportunities.”
These might be rare artifacts, special relationships, or powerful techniques.
Even a humble farmer wielding a sickle could gain the strength to look down on knights if given the right chance.
That’s how powerful and efficient these opportunities were—like winning the lottery in this world.
And Richard knew the locations and details of all of them.
Of course he did. He was the creator of this world.
His mind held the most valuable information on the planet.
The only problem was… he was currently under house arrest by order of the family head.
***
“Has Vallach left?”
“Yes.”
Richard responded to the head of the family’s question.
He’d won his bet with Vallach just yesterday.
The head looked slightly shaken as he gazed at his son.
There was an engraving now marked on the back of Richard’s hand.
He’d already known Vallach had shown interest in Richard.
But he dismissed it as nothing more than lingering sentiment toward the Bartenberg bloodline.
Though Vallach had visited again last night and explained what happened, seeing it firsthand was still a shock.
“He said you asked to be released from confinement?”
“That’s right.”
Watching his son nod calmly, the head of the family smirked.
This wasn’t the same Richard who always cowered and avoided his gaze.
Even when he tried to assert pressure, the boy’s eyes didn’t waver.
In truth, everything had changed the moment “Lee Ji-hoon” possessed Richard’s body.
“You’ve changed.”
Finally, a layer of misunderstanding had been peeled away.
“So, what are you planning to do now?”
Despite the question, the head’s expression wasn’t displeased.
“You’re not going to cause trouble again, are you?”
“I’m reflecting on my past actions.”
All those disgraceful acts had been committed by the former Richard.
Now, Ji-hoon was cleaning up that mess.
While sighing inwardly, Richard heard words he’d been waiting for:
“I’ll allow it.”
He did it!
The wish Richard made after defeating Vallach in their bet was to be freed—to have his confinement lifted.
“Heh. Didn’t think Vallach would ever make a request like that.”
It clearly had a major impact, even enough to make the iron-blooded head of the family crack a smile.
After a few more words, the head issued a dismissal order.
As Richard left the office, the head was lost in thought.
“Things will get interesting once Gide returns.”
To him, Richard had always been a bird that would never fly.
His cursed body left him without even the will to flap his wings.
But now, he was growing wings—massive ones.
***
A few days later, I loaded up a carriage.
Time was of the essence, so I prepared to leave as quickly as possible.
“We’re ready to depart.”
“Good.”
Aaron, five lower-ranked knights, and my personal maid Mary would accompany me.
“Young master, congratulations on being released from confinement.”
Mary offered me tea as we boarded the carriage together.
She looked noticeably brighter these days.
Why?
“It must all be thanks to the Lord’s blessing!”
Yes… she meant me.
She believed she’d been saved by a divine power and was now radiating joy.
“Oh great Lord, please watch over the young master’s path—”
“Please. One prayer a day is enough.”
It was a bit much to have her suddenly praying in front of me.
Though I was glad she’d become a devout follower…
“But why? Didn’t you say our prayers give the Lord strength?”
Okay—this was overkill.
“Even gods need rest…”
“Ah! You’re right! I’ve been praying dozens of times a day!”
Actually, that’s not just a bit—that’s way too much.
She immediately started praying again to apologize.
My head hurt.
I changed the subject.
“How is your mother doing?”
“Fully recovered. The doctor was shocked… it’s truly a miracle!”
Whoops—another landmine.
Mary started crying and praying again.
Her mother, Melline, had completely recovered after drinking twenty vials of holy water.
Thanks to that, she too became a follower.
Now I gain about 180 faith points a day from them.
Still, with training and sanctuary maintenance, the faith I gained was spent as fast as it came.
I only had 220 points saved.
“Mary, you haven’t told anyone else, right?”
“That’s true… but why must we hide the Lord’s grace?”
Why?
For your own safety, of course.
If someone keeps preaching about a god no one knows, they’ll be seen as a lunatic.
A scoundrel’s maid who’s also crazy? That’s a bad combo.
“The Lord reaches out to those in true desperation.”
She clasped her hands in awe.
It wasn’t even a lie.
My strategy was to start by gathering followers from poor, rural areas outside Barten.
Small villages are always suffering from monsters or beasts.
Perfect potential believers.
And the place we were heading was ideal:
Snowfall Village—a treasure trove of opportunities.
It was a small village in the Hessen territory, three days away by carriage.
Though not in the far north, snow fell there year-round.
The result? Constant poor harvests and frequent monster attacks.
‘Artifacts that will later be found by that guy—a wandering northern mage—are sleeping behind Snowfall’s snowy mountains.’
***
The carriage sped ahead.
In the distance, I could see the snow-covered mountains.
The temperature was rapidly dropping.
“Here’s a coat, young master.”
“Thanks.”
I put on the coat Mary handed me.
It was made from the leather of Horug, a beast known for its resistance to cold.
I handed similar coats to the knights escorting the carriage.
We had plenty—piled up in the carriage.
Then, the carriage came to a sudden stop.
Knock knock
“Young master, Baron Hessen has come to greet you.”
Aaron’s voice came from outside. I peeked out.
“O noble and great descendant of Bartenberg! I, Baron Hessen, welcome you!”
A man with crescent-shaped facial hair bowed so low he was practically kissing the ground.
His soldiers followed suit.
“…Sure.”
It was freezing, and he’s doing this?
I closed the window while tightening my coat.
Having a reputation as a scoundrel was useful at times like this.
As the carriage resumed, I heard the baron bark orders:
“Soldiers, protect the carriage! Not even an ant should approach it!”
Kind of redundant with Bartenberg knights already present.
Still, I could tell he was desperate to impress.
That’s the weight of the Bartenberg name—dominant not just in the kingdom or empire, but across the entire northern continent.
They don’t conquer because they don’t need to.
Their only focus is war.
Still, being treated this well did feel nice.
***
Before long, we arrived at the village.
And I immediately had to take back my earlier thoughts.
“W-Welcome to Snowfall, Young Master Richard!”
The village chief lay flat against the snowy ground.
Snow had piled atop him from how long he’d been there.
He wasn’t the only one.
Fewer than 30 residents—all lying flat in the snow.
“You fools! Do you not realize who stands before you?”
Baron Hessen yelled at the shivering villagers.
Unlike the villagers in their worn rags, he was bundled up in fine clothes.
Honestly, this wasn’t surprising. It was customary for villagers to greet high-ranking visitors like this.
Even the knights with me didn’t bat an eye.
But to me, this was madness.
“What the hell are you doing?!”
Are they insane?! It’s freezing out here!
“Y-Young master? Is there a problem?”
Ignoring the startled baron, I scanned the villagers.
They were in awful shape—malnourished, full of holes in their clothes, exposed to the bitter wind.
Much worse than I expected.
“Aaron.”
“Yes.”
“Give them the coats from the carriage.”
Aaron blinked in surprise but nodded without question.
The baron, however, did not stay quiet.
“Gasp! Y-Young master! These people can’t afford such luxuries!”
“Can you afford it, then?”
His eyes bulged at my response.
Thirty coats made from the famed Horug leather weren’t cheap.
Certainly not something a baron from barren land could cover.
“Go on, everyone—get up and put them on.”
“But…”
“I brought them for you. Are you rejecting my goodwill?”
The villagers hesitated.
Perhaps scared of the baron, or worried I’d charge them later.
But as potential believers, all I needed from them was faith.
I looked them over again. Hunger. Cold. Sickness—it was all clear.
This situation definitely called for divine mercy.
“Mary, let’s offer a prayer to the Lord.”
This was truly an environment that needed divine mercy.
***
The village chief of Snowfall, Roman, looked down at his body.
Draped over him was a coat that, at a glance, looked quite expensive.
Not just him—all the villagers were wearing coats made from Horg leather.
These had come from none other than the scoundrel of the mighty Bartenberg family,
from the very center of the northern continent—Richard!
‘Surely… surely he’s not trying to force a sale on us.’
Roman couldn’t fully accept this as pure goodwill.
He knew Richard’s reputation all too well.
‘What’s his real motive?’
A shadow of unease crossed the old village chief’s face.
“Cough!”
At that moment, a child in the village let out a suppressed cough.
The child was still young, fragile, and malnourished—and for someone like that, the cold of Snowfall was brutal.
Hearing the cough, Richard’s gaze turned toward the sound.
In that moment, Roman saw it clearly—a frown creasing Richard’s brow.
“Who was that?”