Blessed By A Yandere Goddess

"So, what do you know about the water?"

Ronan asked, getting straight to the point. He was in the middle of a crowded hall, inside a building packed with hunters.

There were hundreds of places he would rather be.

"Other than being the one who commissioned the job, nothing."

"Y-You...? You were the one who had those three hunters look around the Frostlands for some water?"

"I wouldn’t be inviting you here personally if I wasn’t."

The fixer stood and held up the bottled water. Ronan remembered it clearly, down to the number and appearance of the bottles. If there had ever been any need for proof, it was gone now.

"So, anything else you need to know?"

"Just like that?"

"You’re my best hunter. If this puts you in my good graces, then yes. Just like that."

Ronan studied the bottled water on the desk, the same infinity-shaped liquid he’d watched the ghost archer extract from that ancient ruin.

Seeing it here, in a cluttered office above a guild headquarters, felt wrong somehow. That water belonged in a forgotten temple, not under fluorescent lights.

"What is it?"

"Infinity water. But you already knew that part."

The fixer settled back into his chair, the leather creaking under his weight.

"What you don’t know is what it does."

"I’m listening."

"It’s like a mana potion. The strongest one ever documented. Ever seen a D-Rank cast an S-Rank spell as a one-time use ability? This is the potion for that. One bottle is worth more than this entire building."

Ronan’s eyes flicked to the two bottles in his own inventory. He’d been sitting on a fortune without knowing it.

"But that’s not why you’re really here," the fixer continued. "You’re here because you want to know why I went through all this trouble. Why I spent years researching runes just to open one door."

"I assume you’re about to tell me—"

"—Because that water came from a shrine dedicated to a goddess who supposedly died centuries ago."

The fixer’s tired eyes met Ronan’s.

"And I’ve been looking for proof she existed."

Ronan kept his expression neutral, but his mind was already racing. The shrine. The dress. The symbols. This man had been searching for evidence of Sarael long before Ronan ever crawled into her temple.

"Why?"

"Don’t you think it’s weird? All across history, we’ve had dead shrines and religions. But this one is different."

The fixer moved to a nearby wall, pulled back the fabric covering it, and revealed a huge world map, with red marks in almost every major country.

"The same symbols, the same language. And it’s all across the world."

Ronan stared at the map. The red marks weren’t random. They formed patterns, clusters around ancient cities and forgotten temples, stretching across continents like a network that had once connected something vast.

"You’ve been tracking shrines."

"Ever since I stumbled into one during a dungeon raid back when I was still an active hunter."

The fixer traced a finger along the map, connecting dots that spanned from Europe to the Frostlands, and to regions Ronan had never even heard of.

"The same crescent moon. The same three vertical lines. The same language that no linguist has ever been able to translate. And all of them, every single one, completely dead. No worshippers, no offerings, no traces of active faith. Just ruins."

"Until Tartarus-B."

Ronan said, remembering John’s explanation that his grandmother’s amulet had activated the moment the Shadow Porter rumors began.

The fixer turned back to Ronan, his tired eyes sharpening.

"Precisely. Whatever happened during your escape, something activated them..."

He said it in a conspiratorial tone. He knew Tartarus had something to do with the strange activation of the shrines, but he had no idea how deeply Ronan was connected to it.

He didn’t know that Ronan had literally freed and awakened the Goddess who was most likely the one once worshipped at those same shrines.

"Are you satisfied?"

"More than satisfied."

He had potions that were basically portable nukes. Why wouldn’t he be? More importantly, he now had a map listing every possible place Ronan could explore in the world.

Either to prepare for his journey back to Tartarus, or simply to help Sarael remember more of her past.

"Y’know, you don’t seem too surprised about this conspiracy."

"Well, I’ve been through too much to be surprised by things like this."

The fixer’s eyes narrowed at Ronan’s explanation, then he smiled.

"You know more than you’re letting on, don’t you? But don’t worry, I won’t pry. I’d rather keep an asset like you happy. I’ve already done my own research on this whole thing, and a few more years wouldn’t hurt."

Ronan didn’t confirm or deny the fixer’s suspicion. He’d learned enough about dealing with information brokers to know that silence was often more valuable than answers.

Let the man draw his own conclusions. As long as those conclusions didn’t lead back to Sarael, Ronan didn’t care what he believed.

"The map."

Ronan said, nodding toward the wall.

"You aren’t just showing it to me out of goodwill? Aren’t you?"

"Goodwill, and a proposition."

The fixer returned to his desk and pulled a tablet from one of the cluttered drawers. He tapped the screen a few times, then slid it across the desk toward Ronan.

"I’ve been funding expeditions to these shrines for decades. Most of them come back empty-handed. A few bring back artifacts. The water was the first real breakthrough in years."

"And you want me to retrieve more."

"I want you to retrieve everything. Every shrine, every artifact, every scrap of information about this goddess. You’re the best hunter I’ve ever worked with, and you’re clearly interested in the topic."

Ronan picked up the tablet and scrolled through the data. Locations, expedition notes, photographs of crumbling temples and broken altars. The same crescent moon symbol appeared again and again, carved into stone and etched into metal.

It was Sarael’s symbol. Her legacy, scattered across the world and buried under centuries of neglect.

"Complete this, and I’ll handle the association. In a way that even John Neumann can’t do."

"You know about that as well?"

"Your new fixer filled me in on some of the details. I just pieced most of them together."

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