Chapter 9: Festival and Strategy

The harvest season had arrived. On this crisp autumn day, fresh loaves of thick bread were pulled from ovens, frothy ale sloshed in wooden barrels, and hearty cuts of roasted meat were laid out early for the feast. The scene mirrored the depictions of divine realms from many holy scriptures. The townsfolk of Sette bustled about joyfully, ready to celebrate the season. The stars had yet to vanish from the sky when the people began their preparations. Pastor Lynn and Maria rose just as early to help. Drawing on years of experience, Maria handled bundles of cabbages and lettuces with practiced ease. Her nimble movements made it seem as if vegetables vanished the moment they were delivered. Her speed might’ve been shocking elsewhere, but in a world where the supernatural was common—and where Pastor Lynn could casually shoulder massive beams—it wasn’t too surprising. The sun’s golden rays poured down, awakening the small town to vibrant life. From silence sprang sound—horns blared, voices rang out, performers juggled and tumbled through the streets. A traveling circus had arrived in advance and was already showing off their talents. From the moment the sun peeked above the horizon, the Autumn Festival was officially underway. "Toot-toot! Toot-toot!" A clown, face painted red and white, spun in a flamboyant dance and blew a tiny trumpet. With a wide, silly grin, he presented the festival's first flower to Maria. Not a rose of passion, nor a violet of true love—but a lily, pure and noble. It matched Maria’s serene grace and the gentle kindness she showed all. The townsfolk of Sette knew no better symbol for their beloved Sister Maria. Blushing faintly, Maria covered her mouth and smiled. "Thank you." She tucked the dewy lily into the sleeve of her robe, and the delighted clown bounced away to entertain others. A few young men nearby sighed in disappointment, quietly slipping their own flowers back into their pockets. As usual, Maria had received the first bloom of the festival. ‘Every year, huh...’ Maria mused silently, amused by the warm and overly enthusiastic nature of the town. “Big Sister! Big Sister!!” Felia, happily chewing on a candied fruit, had spotted Maria in the crowd. She waved excitedly—but before she could run over, she was scooped up into the air. Pastor Lynn had hoisted his younger daughter onto his shoulders, striding forward with Ruth by his side. “Felia… Father, Mother. Happy Harvest. May winter be kind to you.” Maria rose on tiptoes and affectionately pinched her little sister’s cheek. “May the Sovereign bless you, my daughter.” Pastor Lynn made the sign of the Sovereign on Maria’s forehead and gently took her hand, leading the family toward the festival’s main square. As the town’s spiritual leader, he had to give a formal address, and maintaining cordial ties with the mayor was part of his duties. “May your faith, my fortune, and our shared harvest shine with the sun!” The mayor of Sette—a well-dressed middle-aged man with a neatly trimmed mustache and cane—raised his cup beside Pastor Lynn. Due to religious doctrine, the pastor’s cup held only fresh fruit juice with mild alcohol. “With the sun!” “With the sun!” “With the sun!” The crowd echoed in unison. Before the 2.0 patch, [Fractured]'s mainstream religion still centered on the solar pantheon. Even non-believers casually repeated the common refrain: —less out of devotion, more as a cultural habit. Maria joined the toast, sipping her beer, her gaze quietly shifting across the crowd. Who would be the lucky Closed Beta player to become her tool? Cup in hand, she greeted townsfolk with polite smiles while scanning the main street. In [Fractured], players usually arrived as adventurers or survivors of near-death events. Instant-spawn characters were rare. This helped maintain the world’s realism, and death carried serious penalties. Based on her calculations, Year 998 of the Solar Calendar—on the day of the Autumn Festival—marked the Closed Beta’s launch. There had to be testers in the Southwind region. Sette, though, was an out-of-the-way town where most residents lived self-sufficiently and rarely traveled. There was no guarantee a tester would appear here. It wasn’t the full release yet—where players would turn over every rock and sniff out every clue. ‘Looks like I’ll need my backup plan.’ After a full round of observation, she found no suspicious newcomers. Maria sighed but wasn’t disappointed. She had already made preparations. Whether players appeared or not, she would make contact soon enough. Once the festival ended, another event would follow: Tax season. The secular authorities and the Church alike would begin their collections. To prevent attacks from madmen, thieves, or raiders, both factions would dispatch supernatural escorts. Given Southwind’s relative peace and prosperity, most of these guards were low-ranking—[Apprentice] to [Iron] level—serving as deterrents more than anything. The [Radiant Church] still clung tightly to the solar pantheon, obeying its protocols faithfully. If the testers were clever enough, they could obtain early tasks related to the tax convoys by posing as freelance [Apprentices]. This wasn’t the open beta yet. The gods still stood. The kingdoms remained stable. The tides of chaos had not yet begun. Even the evildoers were weak and forgettable. The beta phase focused more on learning than conquest. Until version 3.0, NPCs would vastly outclass players in power—especially the true supernatural elites.