Rise of the OtherGod Apostle: Not a Cult Leader, but a Serf?!
#120
#120
“What if I had some strange ulterior motive? Would you still be so eager to agree?”
I asked, genuinely concerned. Nasir, though, just chuckled softly, like I’d said something completely ridiculous.
“That would be even better.”
…Better?
Better if I had some shady ulterior motive?
I guess, from an Inquisitor’s perspective, that would actually make things easier.
It’s like a scammer accidentally calling the cops and getting busted without even trying.
No one outside the Cathedral could pull off a scheme complex enough to outsmart them anyway…
From Nasir’s point of view, caution wasn’t really necessary. Inquisitors fearlessly storm fortresses crawling with armed heretics, so what’s there to worry about within the safe walls of the Cathedral?
“So, how should I appear when I’m by your side?”
“What do you mean by appear?”
“With an illusion, I can alter my appearance however I desire. Of course, Fabio, it would be imperceptible to your eyes.”
“…You can impersonate people?”
“Not exactly. Impersonating someone who has received the sacred baptism of Order is considered blasphemy. It’s strictly forbidden.”
So, anyone outside the Order is fair game?
“However,” Nasir continued, “I can take on a form close enough to fool someone at a glance. Is there a specific appearance you have in mind for me?”
…Is this seriously something an Inquisitor should be offering?
That ability seemed more like something a scammer would use, not a servant of the Order. Did Nasir really think a goblin would jump at the chance to turn that into some kind of malicious plan?
“There’s no need for illusions or pretending to be someone else. The only person I want by my side is you, Nasir.”
Nasir’s tail, which had been gently swaying, suddenly stopped mid-motion.
“That means…?”
“The reason doesn’t matter. I want you, Nasir the Inquisitor, to be the one watching over me.”
“Watching over you…?”
“Yeah. With an Inquisitor by my side, no evil being would dare come near me.”
Nasir’s expression shifted, becoming more serious, his eyes narrowing. “Are you implying that someone intends to harm you, even here within the Cathedral?”
“…Like I said, it was just a slightly ominous dream. But it’s been weighing on my mind.”
I improvised the details, weaving together a story on the fly.
“In this dream, a figure cloaked in shadow spoke of paying me a visit, but their face remained hidden. It left me feeling… uneasy when I woke up.”
The dream, of course, was pure nonsense with no symbolic elements in it. But Nasir listened closely, his focus never wavering, and with every word I spoke, his expression only grew more intense.
When I finished, he asked, “…Fabio, have you ever been told which entity bestowed that blessing upon you?”
“No, I was only ever told that ignorance was my best protection.”
Nasir let out a short, sharp sigh. “In that case, it might be best not to ask any more questions.”
He’s really not going to push for more?
Well, given what I’ve endured from poking my nose where it doesn’t belong, maybe knowing when not to pry is what separates a professional from a casualty in the Dark Realm.
“So, what do you have planned for the day?” Nasir asked, smoothly steering the conversation toward a lighter topic.
“In the afternoon, I volunteer at the local orphanage, spending time with the kids.”
“That’s truly commendable. Do you enjoy working with children?”
If I say no, he’s definitely going to ask why I even bother volunteering there.
“I do. Quite a lot, actually. Is there anything purer than children?”
Nasir cleared his throat a couple of times, then launched into his own enthusiastic stories about how well he got along with kids.
“…I must say, I’ve always had a special connection with them and I take pride in my stamina. After playing with them until they’re completely exhausted, they always fall asleep peacefully.”
Great. If he goes all out playing with them like that, and they expect me to keep up next time, I’m so screwed.
I couldn’t help feeling a bit envious of his stamina. It had to be in the triple digits.
Fabio used to spend all day working the fields as a serf…
Sure, Fabio’s stamina stat was a decent 45, which is better than your average bottom-tier unit with 30, but it didn’t even come close to Nasir’s clearly superhuman endurance.
If breaking your back doing manual labor could boost stamina that much, the old-timer farmers would be running circles around people in their 20s.
There was no point getting jealous over someone else’s natural abilities. It’s not like I could just swap bodies with the guy.
Still, I felt a little bad for Nasir, who seemed genuinely eager to spend time with the kids, but I had absolutely zero plans to head back to that orphanage anytime soon.
It’s the one place I’m most likely to run into a player who was chosen by the Distorted One.
“It’s a shame, but I was actually planning to let them know I won’t be able to make it to volunteer today.”
“…Is there something urgent that you need to take care of?”
“No, it’s not that. I’m just worried the kids might get caught up in something.”
“Then…”
“Nasir, could you do me a favor and let Bishop Andrea know I won’t be able to continue volunteering for a while? Just tell him I’m being questioned as a witness in a certain case.”
“…Bishop Andrea?”
“You know him?”
“How could I not?”
The look of pure disgust that flashed across Nasir’s face was unmistakable. Those two definitely hated each other.
Andrea probably started it.
That old fossil wouldn’t think too highly of a heresy inquisitor with a heretic background like Nasir’s.
Nasir stayed silent for a moment, then spoke again. “Why don’t you just tell him you’re done and quit altogether?”
“Is he really that troublesome to deal with?”
Nasir’s lip curled into a small sneer. “More a nuisance than anything else. Give him an inch, and he’ll have his nose in everything—asking about your case, how long your investigation will take, what kind of miracles are involved…”
“Can a bishop really get access to all that information?”
“Perhaps not the specifics of the interrogation, but the procedures are not kept confidential. Bishops have the power to oversee the process and ensure that no torture or mind-damaging miracles are used.”
That’s a new setting.
I’d always thought people practically fainted at the sight of an inquisitor. But a bishop? Sticking their nose into an inquisitor’s investigation?
Since when did inquisitors lose their absolute authority?
“Does that happen a lot? Bishops meddling?”
“The relationship between bishops and inquisitors is… complicated. Heresy accusations were often used as a weapon, even against the innocent. As a preventative measure, bishops were granted the authority to oversee interrogations and prevent false accusations. Despite this, accusations fueled by revenge persisted, leading to the creation of the Inquisition, which restricted the ability of just anyone to interrogate alleged heretics.”
I listened carefully, intrigued.
It made sense. In a fractured empire, united only by the flimsiest of alliances, old grudges wouldn’t just disappear. Sure, the Order might’ve banned civil wars, but that didn’t stop the factions from finding new ways to fight.
And what better way to hurt a rival than accusing them of heresy?
“In times of war, bishops often overstepped their bounds, using their power to label their political opponents as heretics or apostates, and then executing them.”
“That was allowed?”
Nasir gave a grim nod. “Technically, no. Any bishop found to be abusing their power in that way was supposed to be punished. But their mindset was simple: execute as many ‘enemies’ as possible before any consequences could catch up to them.”
What a mess.
“Lady Casimir became the first Commander of the Inquisition because she was the least involved in those political power struggles and had no personal agenda.”
As Nasir’s words sank in, the irony of a former heretic serving as an Inquisitor started to make sense.
Turns out, the Inquisition was originally created to be the voice of reason amidst the chaos of heresy trials. They weren’t meant to fan the flames of hysteria, but rather to provide a level head.
This revelation also helped explain why Nasir didn’t come across as some kind of fanatical zealot. His role wasn’t to point fingers and shout “heretic!” at every shadow that crossed his path. Instead, he was more like a careful investigator, a quality assurance expert of sorts. If someone brought him a case of suspected heresy, he’d dig in, examine the evidence, and make a call. If he deemed it wasn’t heresy, that was the end of it. Case closed.
Of course, if the accused were found to be heretics, they’d still face the ultimate punishment: burning at the stake.
The more I learned about the Dark Realm’s history, the more I realized that it wasn’t as backward as I’d initially thought. It made me wonder how the apocalyptic events in Heretic Slayer had even occurred.
“So, what should I do? If I just tell him I want to quit, he’ll think something bigger is going on.”
It’s like when your all-star employee—the one who shows up early, stays late, and always goes the extra mile—suddenly hands in their two weeks’ notice with a vague, ‘I’m just not feeling it anymore.’ Wouldn’t the boss be more likely to call the cops, thinking something was seriously amiss, rather than just being mad?
If I don’t give Andrea a believable explanation, he’ll probably assume I’m sending out an SOS, like I’m waving a big red flag that screams, ’Mayday, mayday, there’s trouble afoot! Help me!’
Guess there is such a thing as being too good at currying favor with someone.
Nasir considered this for a moment before a small, sly smile appeared. “If Andrea tries to object by citing rules, I’ll just use the same ones to push back.”
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
Bishop Andrea’s eyes narrowed as he removed his glasses, his piercing gaze fixed on the man standing before him. “Did you say you came here to volunteer? Remind me, what’s your name again?”
“Ansberto.”
“…Haa.”
Bishop Andrea sighed heavily, his breath carrying a world of disbelief.
I stood aside, pretending not to know what was going on, while observing Andrea’s reaction. His eyes never left Nasir.
Nasir’s plan was straightforward.
Claim he was leading an undercover investigation, and the head of the organization – in this case, Andrea – would be obligated to cooperate.
That meant Nasir would have free rein to investigate “Fabio” without interference from Andrea. And, of course, informing the target of the investigation was strictly forbidden.
“And what brings you here to volunteer?”
“I enjoy working with children.”
“…Is that the only reason?” Andrea’s voice hardened, suspicion threading through his words.
“Should there be another?” Nasir answered calmly.
Andrea massaged his brow, frustration creasing deeper into his wrinkles. “Fabio, could you give us a moment alone?”
I complied, slipping out of the room without another word.
Before I arrived, I’d already sent my report to Casimir, so if Andrea made a complaint with the Inquisition, Casimir would handle it.
No matter how much Andrea suspects, there’s little he can actually do.
He doesn’t even realize he’s a heretic. He truly believes the purple snake is a holy beast, a messenger of Order, and that his powers of distortion are divine gifts.
Whoever’s pulling his strings made sure Andrea knew never to use the power of the Othergod in front of an Inquisitor.
Once Andrea is exposed as a servant of the Distorted One, it’s over for him.
If I were in the player’s shoes, the moment Andrea’s report hit my desk, I’d have both Fabio and the Inquisitor removed from the orphanage immediately. The last thing I’d want is an inquisitor nosing around and uncovering anything about the Distorted One.
I’d probably reassure Andrea with something like, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll keep a close eye on Fabio myself.’
But there’s this one nagging concern. Nasir could catch on to something being off about Bishop Andrea.
What if things escalate, and Andrea ends up on trial for heresy?
Even then, I’d be safe. Safer, in fact. If someone like Andrea were taken down, they’d have bigger fish to fry than a former serf like me.
But Adelaide… Adelaide could be in real danger.
If Andrea’s arrested by the Inquisition, the player might decide to sever any loose ends. Adelaide, as a link to all of this, could easily become one of those.
And who knows what might happen to her once she vanishes?
I’d much rather things stay as they are. It’s safer for everyone that way.
But this is dragging on longer than I expected.
Were they arguing in there or something?
I leaned against the door, pressing my ear against it, straining to catch even the slightest sound. But there was nothing—just dead silence. The soundproofing had to be top-notch because not a single whisper slipped through.
Guess I’ll just wait…
But even after nearly twenty minutes, no one emerged.
A prickling unease began to creep in.
Nasir should’ve walked out by now, even if they were bickering.
Did Andrea say something that got under his skin so badly he just couldn’t let it go? Keeping Nasir tangled in a never-ending verbal throwdown?
Even if he lost his temper and threw a punch, round six should’ve been over ages ago.
Knock, knock.
I rapped lightly on the door. No answer.
As the tension continued to build, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and turned the handle, stepping inside.
“Bishop Andrea, how much longer—”
The words died on my lips.
The office was empty.
Nasir and Andrea were nowhere to be found.
What the hell? Where did they go?
As I scanned the room, a shiver ran down my spine. There were no other doors, no hidden exits… just that still, suffocating silence.
“Bishop Andrea?” I called out again, taking a hesitant step forward.
Bang!
The door behind me slammed shut with a loud crash.
F*ck!
I hate this kind of stuff!
I really hate cliche horror movie setups!!!
Panic set in as I rushed to the door, pushing and pulling with all my might. But it wouldn’t budge. It was as if the door was deliberately trapping me, refusing to let me escape.
F*ck….
What the hell is going on?
What happened while I was gone?
Did Andrea use one of the Distorted One powers as soon as I stepped out? Did Nasir figure out what was going on, yelled something like “What the hell, a heretic?!” and attack?
But then… where’s Nasir?
A faint rattling sound jolted me from my thoughts. I spun around, heart pounding. Someone was at the door, trying to enter.
My hand instinctively reached for the holy relic hidden beneath my clothes, my fingers wrapping tightly around it.
The door creaked open, and Bishop Andrea stood in the doorway, shrouded in dim light. But it was what lay behind him that made my blood run cold. Instead of the familiar hallway I’d just been standing in, a spiraling staircase plunged into darkness, its depths seemingly endless.
“Fabio, I told you to wait outside. It seems I kept you waiting.”
There wasn’t a trace of reproach in his tone, which only made the situation more unsettling.
I swallowed, my throat dry. “…Bishop Andrea, where did you come from?”
“I made a brief stop at the underground library,” he replied smoothly.
“And the man who came with me…?”
“I explained the rules of volunteering to him, and he suddenly lost interest and left.”
F*ck, if you’re going to lie, at least try to make it believable!