The Gods’ Gacha Game: Return of the God-King

Chapter 161: Another Map Piece

Boris was prying loose a section of stone with his bare hands while Michelle chipped away at a suspicious seam along the wall. Tuilë was kneeling in the far corner, using a drill-like tool to bore into the stone and a small shovel to scoop out the loosened dirt. Even Lucian crouched low, tracing his fingers along the wall carvings like a man convinced treasure was hidden behind them. They were really taking my suggestion seriously.

Meanwhile, my clone was still pretending to examine a pillar, head tilted thoughtfully like a perfect imitation of me. Good enough. Though at second glance, I noticed that it looked like an idiot.

With a quiet gesture, I dismissed it. The duplicate dissolved into particles of light, scattering before anyone could notice, as everyone was far too absorbed in their own digging.

I walked toward them, dusting off my sleeves as though I’d been searching too. “Any luck on your side?”

Tuilë whipped around instantly, her eyes practically shining. “Yes! Actually—look!” She held up an old parchment, which I recognized immediately. It was another map piece.

My brows rose despite myself. “You found one?”

Michelle grinned. “It was wedged behind a loose block in the wall. Tuilë nearly screamed when she spotted it.”

“Hey! How can you not get excited when you dig up something like this?” Tuilë shot back, her cheeks puffing indignantly.

Boris burst into a hearty laugh. “When she screamed, I thought monsters were attacking her.”

…Ugh. Now I’m actually curious about what kind of sound she made. Shame I was away.

“What were you doing back there, Maxim?” asked Lucian. “I tried talking to you earlier, but you just nodded without reacting.”

“Yeah, you were staring at the same pillar for so long I thought you’d fallen asleep with your eyes open,” Tuilë joked with a grin.

Michelle and Boris chimed in as well, mentioning how they’d even tried poking me, only for me to remain frozen in place like a statue… They did?

“Oh, I was just lost in thought. Nothing to worry about,” I replied, maintaining my best poker face. “Anyway, can I see the map piece?”

“Sure, here you go.” Tuilë handed it over.

Map Piece: Haunted Labyrinth

Grade: ???

Type: Quest Item

A weathered scrap of parchment etched with ancient glyphs and a fragment of a dungeon layout. Said to correspond to a certain hidden section of the Haunted Labyrinth inside the Rift of Dungeons and rumored to contain a fragment of a divine weapon.

I asked Tuilë and the others if it would be all right for me to keep it, and they all agreed without hesitation, so I slipped it into my inventory.

“Did you guys find anything else?” I asked.

“Unfortunately, no.” Michelle shook her head. “We’ve been checking the rest of the chamber for anything of note, but so far, nothing.”

“I see.”

That was only natural. The fact that they even found this map piece was already an unexpected stroke of luck; expecting anything more would have been unreasonable. With that, we gathered ourselves and prepared to leave. On the way out, they noticed the archway leading to where I’d been earlier, but I casually told them there was nothing there, so we didn’t bother investigating it.

We retraced our steps through the corridor and back into the treasure chamber, giving the wreckage one last inspection just in case we’d overlooked anything. Once satisfied, we moved on, eventually reaching the entrance where we had fought the two guardian golems earlier.

“Feels like we’ve been in there for hours,” Michelle muttered.

“Gahaha! That’s because we were,” Boris replied with a grunt.

“It’s not a very large dungeon,” I added, “but the number of enemies was definitely substantial.”

Tuilë chuckled lightly. “Still, we got something worthwhile out of it.”

“That’s right.” Lucian nodded, looking pleased.

Now that I thought about it, the four of them had likely completed most—if not all—of their class advancement prerequisites by now. Perhaps the only thing that they needed to do was to undergo the class advancement trial. Once they cleared that, they would advance to Daleth rank and officially step into the realm of Fantasia’s top combatants.

When we finally exited the dungeon, a blue screen flashed before our eyes as we received System notifications.

You have cleared Dungeon Quest: [Forgotten Vault].

You have earned the treasures within the dungeon.

Honestly, it felt a bit redundant since the reward wasn’t something the System physically granted, but I didn’t particularly care.

We made our way toward the portal platform to leave the Great Wilderness. Once all of us stepped through, the world transformed into Fantasia’s familiar landscape. Compared to the claustrophobic silence of the Forgotten Vault dungeon, the bustle of Fantasia felt lively.

It was good to be back.

***

The Red Scale Tribe had changed since the day the Violet-Scaled Dragon God descended upon their swamp and saved them from annihilation. It had been several dozen suns since then, yet Ruu still remembered that moment with a clarity that bordered on worship. The sight of the towering lizardman with gleaming violet scales, which was divine in presence and impossible to forget, had carved itself into the hearts of every survivor.

Now, those survivors were no longer merely a handful. The tribe had been rebuilt and expanded. New faces, new scales, new voices now filled the settlement.

Dozens of wanderers and starved remnants of smaller tribes—once scattered and hopeless—had followed rumors of a god who walked upright and slew the Green Webber hunters as easily as breathing. Many had been rescued by that same god during their desperate escape from the frogmen’s pursuit. They came limping, crawling, some half-dead… and they fell to their knees the moment they saw the crude stone statue standing at the entrance of the Red Scale Tribe’s main village, thus joining the tribe without a single hesitation.

The statue—an imitation of their god’s towering form—had been carved entirely by Ruu’s hands. Now he stood before it, gazing up at the stone figure with reverence. It wasn’t perfect; the proportions were uneven, and the snout was too long, but the aura it evoked still stirred the blood of his kin. Offerings of fish, herbs, and crude bone charms lay piled at its feet.

Around him, the rebuilt settlement bustled with life. Children practiced swinging sharpened reeds, warriors patrolled with vigor, and newly constructed huts rose on stilts to withstand the swamp tides. The Red Scale Tribe had been revived and transformed into something far stronger than it had ever been.

“Chief Ruu,” a young lizardman called, bowing his head. “The new refugees… they wish to swear loyalty to you—and to Zha’Rath, the Violet-Scaled Dragon God.”

Ruu still wasn’t used to that title. Nor to being called chief.

He turned, the bone necklace of leadership hanging around his neck. “Bring them in. All who seek shelter shall be welcomed.”

The youth nodded quickly and scampered off.

Ruu exhaled slowly. He had been chosen as chief and priest not by dominance or bloodline, but because the god himself had marked him. The burning power that coursed through him since that day—strength where he once had none, clarity where fear used to cloud his mind—was proof of divine favor.

A group of weary lizardmen approached. Instead of bowing to Ruu, they knelt before the statue, whispering, “Violet-Scaled Dragon God… Zha’Rath… please watch over us…”

Ruu stepped forward and placed a clawed hand gently on each bowed head. “You are safe here. Under the protection of the Violet-Scaled Dragon God, none shall hunt you again.”

Hope flickered in their eyes, brightening like embers catching flame.

Ruu straightened. “From this day on, you are Red Scales. Stand tall.”

The newcomers rose slowly, some trembling, some quietly crying, but all carrying a renewed will to live.

Across the village, drums began to beat in a slow, resonant rhythm. It was a ritual call. Tonight, they would hold a ceremony for their god: chanting, dancing, carving more wooden totems. Their faith grew with each passing sun, flowing like a river toward the one who had saved them.

Ruu looked up at the evening sky. “Zha’Rath… Great Dragon God…” he whispered. “May I lead them as you willed.”

The swamp wind carried his prayer into the dark, where no one heard—except perhaps the god who had sown the first seed of faith.

***

After splitting up with Boris and the others, I rested in my room for a short while before deciding to return to the Great Wilderness. It was barely the afternoon, and the day was still long. It would be a waste to simply sit around and wait for the tournament, which would only begin the day after tomorrow. Or even the Battle of Divine Will, which would commence in less than a week.

“I wonder how the lizardmen are doing…” I muttered.

It had been quite some time since I last checked on them. And now that I planned to exterminate the frogmen’s guardian deity, it would be wise to gauge their situation—and perhaps rally them to strike the Green Webber Tribe alongside me. On top of that, I had a strong suspicion they had accumulated a considerable amount of faith that I could absorb and convert into plausibility.

Regardless, if the lizardmen managed to dominate the swamp, it would only benefit me. A prosperous, unified tribe worshipping me would become an immense and reliable source of plausibility.

With that in mind, I prepared myself and headed toward the Rift of Dungeons. Once I selected the Great Wilderness, the portal opened up, and I stepped right through. A weightless sensation engulfed me before the world shifted into an expanse of dry grass and scattered stone outcroppings.

I immediately walked in a certain direction for nearly half an hour until I reached the swamp. The familiar scent of moss, stagnant water, and thick humidity welcomed me like an old acquaintance. The swamp was quieter than before, with only the distant croaking of frogmen patrols and the rustle of unseen creatures moving through the brush. Compared to the chaos of my last visit, it was a little more peaceful.

I moved through the murky terrain, stepping lightly over tangled roots and shallow pools. The lizardmen’s new settlement wasn’t far from here; I had memorized its approximate location during my last exploration of this swamp.

Just as I was about to don the Mask of a Thousand Races to assume the form of their god, the two marks on my arms lit up. In the next moment, Ember and Solana emerged in twin bursts of crimson-black emberlight and golden radiance.

Ember stretched with a smug little yawn, flicking his tail, while Solana fluttered her wings and cooed as she perched against my shoulder. Both creatures looked up at me expectantly, clearly unwilling to remain sealed now that I was alone in an unfamiliar territory.

“…You two just had to come out now, didn’t you?” I muttered, though this was indeed a good opportunity for them to level up. “All right. But you need to follow my orders closely. Understood?”

“Meow.”

“Coo!”

They answered in unison, even making gestures as if to show that they understood.

There was no harm in bringing them before the lizardmen. Even a god would have one or two divine attendants, and both Ember and Solana fit that role perfectly.

With that decided, I donned the Mask of a Thousand Races and changed my appearance.