A Gamer's Guide 424 (Patreon)

“Eat your fingernail?”

“As an example,” I clarify, holding up the little thing Simon swiped from me. “But it could be any second-class relic. You just have to consume it, and then—blammo! Apostle.” Her nonplussed silence fills me with all the courage and determination needed to continue living. “Okay, to be honest, I’m not totally sure how this works. The definition of an apostle only really mentioned the need for a second-class relic, and I figure that’s the only thing you’re missing for full apostlehood, so…”

“But I’ve already consumed a second-class relic from you?”

I turn to her where she sits, next to me on my bed. No hint of hesitation or tomfoolery on her face. In that case… “What? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Your milk,” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Doesn’t that count as a second-class relic?”

I restrain the urge to correct her. Milk-blood sounds better, but I’ve got a few slightly more important things on my mind. “Is it? I thought it was, um… Something else? Liquid divinity or whatever?”

She gives me a once-over. “You have no idea what a relic is, do you?”

“None whatsoever.”

“Right. Okay. Um…” She leans over to me, plucking the glasses off my face. “These,” she says, dangling my precious world-fixing glasses in one hand, “are a third-class relic. Or, if you want to be technical, a third-class true relic. A normal third-class relic would be anything owned by an apostle important enough to be imbued with properties.” I squint at her. The hell’s a property…? “A second class relic, on the other hand,” she says, and now she hands me back my glasses, instead grabbing the fingernail out of my hand, “is a bodypart. A fingernail, for example.”

“How big of a bodypart?” I ask, mostly just because I feel the question has to be asked.

“Big enough for people to consider it a proper thing. So a single cell won’t do it, but I’ve seen both dandruff and single strands of hair toted as full-on second-class relics. They weren’t too impressive, though. Very basic properties, like increase devotion or enhance mood.” She pouts out her lower lip, staring intently at the fingernail in her hand, turning it over between her thumb and index. “Size matters, but only to a degree. A chunk of flesh can only be so significant, but it’ll always be beaten by a piece of bone… Most potent is the heart. The hearts of apostles make for the strongest of relics. Only a single thing can hope to exceed them in terms of power.” She turns to me, and all of a sudden, held in her gaze, I feel like a piece of meat. Or maybe a string of pearls on display. Watched, curated, evaluated. How much for this one? She turns me over in her mind, and in a strange, half-distant voice, she says, “The full body of an apostle or god. A first-class relic.”

I swallow dryly. “Is that what I am?”

“No,” she says. “But you could be one. A relic has to be dead, after all. Or at least separated from the living apostle. Though, just because it’s technically dead doesn’t mean it’ll rot or anything. Relics have a tendency to, um… stick around, so to speak.”

“Quick question,” I say, the image of my own corpse floating around in my head, “what do you even use relics for?”

“It depends, honestly. Sometimes they’re used for rituals, sometimes they’re needed to officiate churches, sometimes they can be used to strengthen whatever magic you’re doing… Stuff like that. And of course, when you hear about it, your first thought has to be oh, man, I gotta get my hands on one of those! Free buff to magic? That could save your life!” She chuckles bitterly. “Yeah. Fat chance. Not only is buying and selling relics strictly forbidden, even if you do get your hands on one, there’s no guarantee your patron god gives a shit. What does the god of pain care that you’ve got the femur of the third apostle of mountains? That doesn’t mean anything! So now not only have you wasted God-knows how much money on an illegal item that can’t be resold, you can’t even use it! Total waste of money!”

“Wow, that sucks,” I say. Then, after a beat, “So we can’t sell my bodyparts for money?”

She lights up, but only for a moment before sinking back down into dejection. “No. You haven’t got any auto-regeneration, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. Dang. In that case, we’d better choose a not-super-important second-class relic to feed you.”

“Assuming the milk wasn’t a second-class relic.”

“Either that, or it was, but you need stronger stuff to properly… ascend? Is that the right term for this?” She shrugs at me. “Man. We really have no idea what we’re doing, do we?”

“Untrue. I’ve got a skill to let me see what’s a relic and what isn’t, and I can kind of taste the potency of it, so I should hypothetically know if it’s enough once I get it.”

“...Taste?”

“Taste, yeah.”

“Like, you lick it?”

“Usually.”

“Okay. Yeah, that makes sense.” I point a big finger at the fingernail pinched between her fingers. “How potent is that thing?”

She unhesitatingly licks it. “Hmm. Tangy, with an understated sweetness… Yep. That’s about a six-out-of-ten potency.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” I say. “How much § is a ten? How much is a one?”

Her face scrunches up. “What noise was that?”

“§?”

“Huh?”

“§.”

“What?”

Okay, fine. “One divine unit.” Her quizzical look persists. I heave a theatrical sign. “You know, the amount of divinity a single god possesses? That’s what us in the god business use to measure divinity. Unless you use this measurement, I won’t have any dang idea what you’re talking about.”

“I would love to, but unfortunately, I have no way of knowing how much divinity is actually in this fingernail.”

I frown. Maybe I could…? Well, sure, I could, but I don’t think I’d get the fingernail back, and it happens to seem kind of valuable. In that case, maybe if I used something less valuable…? “Gecko, hypothetically, if you licked something and I told you how much it was in §, would you be able to use that measurement going forward?”

“Oh, yeah, absolutely. My out-of-ten system might not sound very detailed, but there’s a lot of decimals in there that I’m just not telling you about.”

“Sneaky. Great. In that case, could I borrow your knife again?”

“Sure thing,” she says, pulling her dagger from the sheath hidden in her sleeve. 

I accept it gracefully, and I’m just about to slice up my arm again when I realize that I bleed milk. I’m sitting on top of my bed. I do not want to spill milk all over my bed.

Let’s see, what’s a good spot…? Oh, there! The fancy rug only covers so much of the floor, so there’s an area in the middle, close to the door, that only has sheer rock. Perfect. Hopping off the bed, I waltz over there, Gecko following me closely. I sit down on top of the stone, cross my legs, and prick open just enough of a hole in my arm to pull out a maggot. “Here,” I say, handing it to Gecko. “Lick this.”

She accepts it. She gives it a look. It gives her a look. Frowning to herself, she readjusts her grip, until she’s holding the maggot by its little head. She licks its lower portion. “Two out of ten.”

“Two point what, Gecko?”

“...Two point four five two two three zero four one.”

“Great. Now, before I do anything, I’m just going to check something real quick…”

Psst. Simon? 

{::w::}?

I have no idea if this is within our capabilities, but, like, as a god, it feels like we absolutely should be able to see how much divinity she’s got in her. That sounds reasonable. But I’m not totally sure, and the divine web is big and confusing, so…

{::w::}/!

My hero!

<Hard Challenger Rafiloe Smith

Africa Server

Username: GeckomancerOfYore

Soul Progress: [Error! Cannot be calculated]

Stats: [Error! Cannot be calculated]

Apostleship status: 3,4% complete>

<Notice:

Due to ongoing apostleship under 

God of Hope, Rafiloe Smith 

is suspended from making use of 

level and status given by system.>

{::~::}>

<Materia Information:

Rafiloe Grace Smith

Patron: God of Hope

Owner: God of Hope

Ruler: God of Hope

Energy: 127 889

Divinity[Hope]: 0,000344891>

Oh, there it is! Simon, you fantastic little spider! Ignoring the fact that the divine web seems to think, falsely, that I own this free, non-indentured friend of mine, it seems like she’s currently got quite a lot left before she’ll become a full apostle. Drinking a full glass of blood-milk was enough to get her to three per cent. The only question now is, what’ll a maggot do?

“Alright, now eat the maggot,” I say, keeping my eyes on the screens in front of me. Three-four-four-eight-nine-one… Gotta remember that number…

Her eyes move slowly to the little maggot in her hand. She draws a slow breath. “I want you to know that although I’m going to do it, I’m not going to be all that happy while it’s happening, and, frankly, in the future, I would like to avoid eating maggots. The milk is preferable.”

“Only one maggot,” I say. “Only a single maggot.”

“Right. Okay then,” she says, popping the maggot in her mouth. Chew chew chew, swallow. 

And now…

I watch the numbers ticking up on the screen. Flippa flippa flippa flippa…

“What are you—”

“Shh,” I say, holding up my hand. Thankfully for us all, she says nothing more. Flippa flippa flippa flippa… There! Finally, after less than a minute, it stops at 0,000344931. I look down at my fingers. Um… Four minus three… Uhh…

“Zero-point-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-five,” she finishes for me. 

How the heck…?

“My head-math’s always been fast,” she says, totally glossing over the fact that she read my mind. Without asking first. How rude! “So, if that’s how much one maggot is worth in terms of divine whatevers, then…” She closes her eyes for a moment. As payback, I consciously try my best to peek into her head. I do not understand what I see. All I know is that her unit of measurement is in snails, leaves, and raindrops. When I return from the delve, I can feel my hands shaking. I… I never knew her to be such a terrifying creature… “Right, got it. Give me something to lick, and I’ll be able to tell you how many divine units it is, easy peasy!”

“Nice,” I say, but I’m really wondering how many maggots she would need to reach §0,01. Honestly, when it said the whole an apostle has one per cent of their god’s divinity thing, I thought that would be like, their actual divinity, not their potential total divinity… If it had been like that, she would’ve already been my full apostle. That would’ve been effective, but kind of sucky, since it would’ve robbed her of her agency. 

“I’m not eating a million maggots,” she says. “One was enough.”

“What about my bloodmilk?”

“...Are there no other options?”

Hm. “I’m not sure, actually. To be honest, I have no idea what this body’s made of. It could be maggots all the way down, but there might also be something yummy in there.” We share a long look. “Or else there could be horrors beyond our comprehension. Who knows? My blood being milk and honey could be a fluke.”

“Could be. Either that, or you’ve got lungs made of whipped cream and a heart of meringue.”

“It’s possible.”

Eyes locked together, we nod at one another.

Only one way to find out.