[Living Husk]: Both metaphorically and physically, you are a living husk. Your soul is damaged to a point of no return. Your harrowing experience through the void should have left you erased from all of reality. You inhabit a body that is not originally yours. You occupy the husk of a man you shall never know.
[Restless Soul]: Your soul has a tenacity never seen before. Through your journey in the void, your soul has been tempered to its absolute purity. Compared to the constant brutal dangers it faced in the void, your soul finds the calm nature of all other worlds stale.
[Soul Entity]: You no longer require a physical body; your existence is inherently tied to your soul.
[Transmigration]: Upon death, your soul escapes into the endless void, wandering for all of eternity.
The status screen could indeed be inspected for further insight. Alfie's suspicion was correct on the matter.
The convenience of having a nigh-omniscient tool was beyond helpful.
Although knowing the true limits and extent to which his attributes and skill worked could only be tested with trial and error. For the time being, however, none seemed easily testable.
"Watch your step!" warned an apprehensive Lucia.
Beneath Alfie's feet, a lone snail was trudging along the place he was to step. Increasing his stride, he left the snail unscathed in its journey into the concealed forest.
"Oh, my bad. I didn't see the little guy," Alfie apologized.
Lucia nodded, staying silent for a brief moment before throwing a casual remark.
"It's obvious you're deep in thought. If you have any questions, I'm happy to answer."
"You sure? It's some heavy stuff. Well, I think it is at least," answered a hesitant Alfie.
"Just speak. Whatever question you have, I've most likely heard before. There's no point holding it in," advised Lucia.
"Just what is your goal? With making a village or whatever. Are you guys escaping religious persecution or something?" inquired Alfie.
Lucia looked back in confusion, "Religious persecution? That's an interesting concept… But no, we're not running from anything. Our goal is simple: make a village and worship our patron."
"Is worshiping Prometheus banned or something? Why go through all the trouble of creating a village for that sole purpose?" Alfie questioned.
Lucia's eyes widened in shock and horror. She rushed over and forcefully covered Alfie's mouth.
"Do NOT say his name in vain. Or any other god, Alfie. You don't know of the horrors I've seen."
"Those that do not respect god… They become something else. I've seen some transformed into spiders."
"Others suffer in the eternal pits of Tartarus. And some even transformed into disfigured monsters."
She dropped to her knees, silently praying to the gods. She chanted divine honorifics and verses that were unrecognizable to Alfie.
A sting of panic enveloped the confused Alfie, afraid of what was to come.
His heart started beating at an alarming rate. Insufferable heat rose from within his body, enveloping his whole being.
His breathing quickened, and a weakness filled his body. Falling to the ground, Alfie held his stomach and clenched his jaw.
Saliva filled his mouth, and he lurched forward, spilling the remnants of what laid in his gut. A blackish foul ooze spilled out.
Feeling empty and drained, Alfie collapsed.
A cool liquid flowed down Alfie's throat. The water soothed his body, as if holding a warmth woven into its essence.
Alfie opened his eyes to see the worried face of Lucia holding a water pouch to his lips.
"You were lucky. Incredibly lucky. His majesty seems to be in a good mood. Had it been a worse time, your foolishness would have cost you your life, Alfie. So don't let me repeat myself. Do not speak God's name in vain."