Alice in the Land of Steam

Ling had a dream in which he was still a pastor, living an ordinary life in the small church inherited from his adoptive father, accepting everything in life with equanimity. Even when faced with the crisis of the church's closure, he felt no urge to defy fate. Until one day, an uninvited guest suddenly arrived, revealing to him a path leading to mystery and the unknown. He had no intention of stepping into it, but for various reasons, he was forced to accept it, thus embarking on a wondrous journey.

The journey began in a small town called Rostin, nestled at the foot of the majestic Sosen Mountains. Renowned for its stunning natural scenery and ancient ruins, it's a popular tourist destination. Here, he encountered…

He should have met someone here...

...Here, all memories become blurred.

Chaos, distortion, and then subversion.

Like a writer's prank, the scenes shift silently, and the plot is re-enacted.

A priest, traveling from afar in search of an ancient legend, ventured alone into the perilous Sosen Mountains. He encountered breathtaking scenery and incredible magical creatures, but also faced immeasurable danger, pursued by a monster known as Noctus of Obscurity. When his life hung in the balance, Princess Bemang, from the ancient kingdom of the Light Elves, saved him and brought him back to her country. She was the first outsider to set foot on Bemang's land in its centuries-long isolation, and he was an ordinary human who had never even mastered magic. Why did the princess treat him with such special favor? The people speculated, but the priest himself remained silent, offering no response.

Upon entering the ancient kingdom of Beman, the young man was deeply awestruck by its dreamlike beauty and became a distinguished guest of the royal family, settling there temporarily. He also became friends with Princess Beman, who had saved his life that day. She guided him through the kingdom, teaching him the language and history of the Light Elves. Sometimes she was amazed and impressed by his extraordinary learning ability, and sometimes she laughed heartily when he made a fool of himself because he didn't understand the customs of the Light Elves. After only three months together, the young man felt as familiar with the princess as if they were old friends who had known each other for many years. But perhaps this wasn't just a feeling, but a fact? He often had this thought, but couldn't find the answer, and mistakenly thought it was a joke of fate, never taking it to heart.

The young man didn't actually know why she, as the heir to the ancient kingdom of Bemang, the noble princess of the Leslie royal family, and a light spirit girl blessed by all the light and warmth of the entire Sosen Mountain, was so friendly to him, even subtly intimate. It was an unsolvable mystery. The young man had tried to find the answer through his intuition, but to no avail. Instead, he unexpectedly discovered that the princess was not as cheerful and optimistic as she appeared on the surface. Occasionally, when no one was around, she would show a melancholy expression.

Were they friends? If so, shouldn't they help each other? Although the young man didn't know how he could possibly help her, he couldn't just stand by and do nothing. So, one day, when the princess invited him to admire the blooming violets in the courtyard, the young man couldn't help but ask, "Why are you always so sorrowful, Ovira?"
"Is it that obvious?" That was the princess's first reaction.

The young man nodded helplessly: "Is it that you don't know how to hide it, or that I noticed it by accident... Anyway, there is indeed such a thing."

"I thought I had hidden it well..."

The princess was a little discouraged, but she quickly cheered up and shook her head at him with a smile: "It's nothing serious, just that it might cause some trouble."

But the more casually she spoke, the more the young man felt that things were not so simple. After repeated questioning, the princess finally agreed to tell the truth.

“An evil force is lurking in the shadows, coveting the prosperity and peace of Beimang. If it is not stopped in time, I fear that this thousand-year-old foundation will be reduced to ashes, and the people will be plunged into the vortex of war, never to have a day of peace again.” The princess’s tone was heavy, and her fingers were nervously intertwined, indicating that her mood was not as calm as it appeared.

"this--"

The young man was stunned. He hadn't expected that beneath the prosperity of the ancient kingdom of Bemang, the shadow of war was brewing. It seemed that whether in the human world or the world of other beings, only fighting and mutual harm would never change. His mood grew heavy, and he felt a sense of helplessness: "If that's the case, it seems I can't be of any help."

After all, he was just an ordinary human priest.

“No.” The princess shook her head and looked at him with sincere eyes: “If it were you, you would definitely be able to help me and save Bemang and the people of this land. Only you can do it… Linge.”

She called the young man's name, leaving him momentarily bewildered. He couldn't understand why she was so certain she possessed the power to save Beman, nor why she spoke of these things only to him, instead of consulting the king and his subjects. Everything—the illogical, the absurd, the inappropriate—was corrected by a strange force, as if someone had erased the words from the paper and continued the story with their own pen. The young man felt no hesitation, only a slight surprise as he asked, "Me? What can I do, Ovira?"

"It's very simple, just trust me."

"Believe in you?"

“That’s right. In the realm of mysticism, faith is a magical power that can even shape gods and create miracles. So, as long as you are willing to believe in me, I can gain great power; as long as you trust me wholeheartedly, I am omnipotent; as long as you beg me to do something no matter what, I will definitely be able to do it.”

The princess said, enunciating each word clearly, "Including eliminating all darkness in this world and changing all the misfortunes of humankind."

That's...unbelievable.

Can the power of belief really change the world? It sounds like a fairy tale, full of incredible possibilities. However, the young man couldn't help but wonder: the ancient kingdom of light spirits hidden in the mountains, the mysterious aliens and magicians, and the chance encounter with Princess Beman—all of his experiences so far, weren't they just plots from a fairy tale? If that's the case, then it's not so hard to accept.

“If you need me, I’m willing to trust you, Ovira.” The young man paused, then added, “Actually, I’ve always trusted you.”

Upon hearing this, Ovira couldn't help but laugh, her eyes crinkling into crescent moons as she looked delighted. But she quickly suppressed her laughter, reverting to her serious demeanor, and shook her head: "It's not like that, Ling. Believing in me as you do now isn't enough. You must... believe in me as you would a god, for me to have the power to rewrite this story."

"Believing in you is like believing in...God?" Ling couldn't help but recall the statue of God enshrined in the Heavenly Heart Church when he lived in Linwell City. Since taking over his adoptive father's position as pastor, he had prayed to God day and night, every week, without fail. His prayers said that God created the world, nurtured all things, governed the laws, and maintained balance. Yet, despite praying countless times, he had never seen the God on the altar come to life and truly change the world. So, is the power of belief truly useful? Or is it simply ineffective against the God one believes in?
Only then did he realize that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't recall the face of the deity, or even His name. This led the young man to a sudden doubt: Was he truly a priest? Were there no fabricated parts in his memories? Or had he always lived in a fictional world? As he pondered this, the surrounding scenery suddenly froze, then cracks appeared on the surface of a mirror. Princess Beman was startled and quickly strengthened her control over the dream, barely managing to stabilize it before the young man regained his senses. Her gaze towards him became exceptionally complex. She thought, "Truly a person favored by fate. His intuition and premonitions are so strong; even in a dream, he can glimpse the truth beneath the world."

But that won't do, Linger.

Because, if you want to rewrite the ending of the story.

If you want to achieve a happy ending.

So even if it's just a dream, you should believe it's real.

Her Highness has already come to this realization, and for this reason, she would do things that are despicable for a creator, such as wantonly altering the plot and writing words that are not her own.

And so, with a thought, the dream instantly shifted. When Linge came to his senses, he found the surroundings completely transformed. He was no longer in the fragrant violet garden, but standing on the walls of the royal city, overlooking the entire land of Bemang and the endless Sosen Mountains. He saw flames descending from the sky, the earth shattering; people turning to ashes in the fire, wild beasts fleeing through the desolate forests; rivers cut off by swords, sunlight obscured by smoke—the world had reached the brink of destruction, teetering on the brink of collapse.

"What...what's going on?" The young man could hardly believe what he was seeing. It was so different from the beautiful and prosperous Beman he remembered that he subconsciously ignored the subtle sense of incongruity that arose when the scene and plot changed.

The princess stood beside him on the city wall, gazing sadly at this familiar land. She was the one who least wanted to see it suffer disaster, yet she would not shy away from this hardship and the great cause that would follow: "The forces of evil are rampaging and are destined to destroy our hard-won peace. All ideals will be crushed, all beauty will be buried, and only the resolve to sacrifice can change everything."

She turned to the young man, took his hands in hers, and gently closed them, the warmth of their overlapping palms sending shivers down her spine. "Only you can do this, Linger. If you're willing to believe in me as you would your own god, I can stop every disaster, end every war, and then bring about a beautiful ending. So—"

She gazed at the young man before her with sorrow and earnestness, like a believer praying to their god, asking him to believe in her as he believed in their god: "Please let me be your god, Ling."

Please let me become your god...

These words caused a moment of disorientation in the young man. Countless memories, not belonging to this moment, flooded his mind, yet they were indistinct, like looking through a mirror. They all told of another world where another girl had made the same request to him for the same reason, but their destinies ultimately led to the same end: becoming a god inevitably meant losing the right to remain in the mortal realm. Now, was he about to let this story repeat itself? The young man spoke with difficulty, unable to utter a word of refusal, because, in essence, this was not reality, and he hadn't realized that this was not reality.

The repetitive words brought a numbing sensation, memories were tampered with, cognition was distorted, and he gradually became immersed in a lie that was not for his own sake. Can a person fall into a dream as if falling into memories? Or should they face the story happening in front of them and ignore the plots that should be forgotten? No one can draw a conclusion, at least at this moment, he only needs to face a choice.

But this is also a false proposition, because the answer is already determined when the options are presented.

"if--"

The young man could not refuse the princess's request, because he was essentially someone who was being pushed along, always drifting aimlessly in the whirlpool of fate: "If doing this can change anything, then I will believe you, Ovira."

“I believe in you,” he repeated, word by word, “as if I believed in my God.”

what.

Finally got it.

His faith, and this power that could change everything.

A surge of emotion welled up within her at the promise, but it was followed by an even greater emptiness and loneliness. She knew that the false could never become reality; only in this dream could she become his god. But what did it matter? As her teacher had said, love was an instinct of life. Therefore, whether in cruel reality or in a fleeting illusion, people instinctively pursued love. Was it necessarily real in reality? Was it necessarily imagined in a dream? No one had ever stipulated that, had they? Therefore, at this moment, neither of their feelings was entirely false…

That being the case.

despite this.

Why am I so sad?

The princess gently took the young man's hand and pressed it against her cheek. Whether it was her imagination or not, she felt a warm, moist sensation in his palm. (End of Chapter)