Rise of the OtherGod Apostle: Not a Cult Leader, but a Serf?!

#121Reader Mode

#121

Who in their right mind would believe that garbage?

“…You’re not convinced, I see.” Andrea sighed, his fingers opening slowly to reveal an object dangling from a fragile thread. It swayed softly, catching the dim light.

“Do you know what this is?”

Shit.

That’s Nephiton’s relic.

Did Nasir get looted while we were separated?

“This,” Andrea continued, “is a heretic’s relic. A wicked tool meant to deceive the senses of the faithful. He used it to conceal his true, abhorrent form.”

He’s twisting it. Andrea’s making Nasir out to be the heretic.

But Nephiton’s relics are something even Apostles use.

“I’m not sure which foul god he serves now, but his form is disgusting and unholy. Clearly no longer of Order.”

“He… he was a heretic?” I let my voice tremble, letting panic seep in just right. “Shouldn’t we inform an Inquisitor right away? There’s a heretic in the Cathedral…”

Andrea’s lips curled into a thin smile.

“Ah, but Fabio, that won’t be necessary. This heretic is an Inquisitor. It seems you were unaware. Ironic, isn’t it? The very guardian meant to root out heresy, consumed by it.” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head as if in sorrow. “What has become of this world?”

…Says the real heretic.

Nasir’s just cursed, that’s all.

Who does this guy think he is, throwing around accusations like that?

Andrea smoothly slipped Nephiton’s relic into his sleeve, his eyes gleaming as he turned to me. “Rest assured, Fabio, I will handle this matter personally.”

Handle it?

He didn’t… kill Nasir, did he?

“May I… may I see the evidence myself? What you’re telling me is too shocking. Such an accusation… it’s too grave to accept blindly.”

Andrea’s expression tightened. “Do you really need to witness such filth with your own eyes?”

“I have to see it for myself.”

“There’s no need—”

“Seeing a heretic firsthand will only make me more vigilant. If I don’t witness it, how can I guard myself?”

“…Very well. If you insist. Who am I to deny you?”

Andrea agreed, surprisingly without much resistance.

Is this forced persuasion’s effect at work?

The more someone is subjected to forced persuasion, the easier they are to sway. Maybe there’s some truth to that after all.

Descending the steps to the underground library behind Andrea, doubt churned like a storm in my gut.

…Am I doing the right thing here?

Should I have just played along and made a run for it when he said he’d handle it?

Maybe I should call on the Saint, even now….

“That heretic… how did you manage to take him down so easily?” I asked, testing the waters.

Andrea’s response was chillingly casual. “A regrettable waste of resources. I was forced to utilize the trap I had meticulously crafted for Athanas. Months of preparation… wasted in an instant.”

I have to keep Athanas as far away from the orphanage as possible. No matter what happens.

I didn’t know what kind of trap it was, but if it left Nasir, an Inquisitor, completely helpless, then it would be just as deadly for Athanas.

As we entered the underground library, I saw Nasir crumpled on the cold stone, writhing as if trapped in the throes of a nightmare.

…He’s still alive.

At least I’d managed to avoid the worst-case scenario.

Andrea’s voice cut through the silence, dripping with disgust. “A grotesque sight, wouldn’t you agree?”

“…Yes, it is. I never imagined he’d be hiding such a monstrous form.”

My voice matched his disgust effortlessly.

“To think someone so dangerous could’ve been around the children… It’s a chilling thought. If not for you, Andrea, this could’ve gone terribly wrong! And to learn that an Inquisitor was a heretic… This is way beyond what we can handle alone. We need to notify the Inquisition immediately.”

I have to use forced persuasion to get Nasir out of here.

Maybe I could spin this as some elaborate trap meant to frame Andrea with false accusations—argue that keeping Nasir here is part of a bigger plot. If we could just get him outside the orphanage, someone else could stumble upon him and report it, leaving us out of the equation. Maybe I could make this work?

As I scrambled for an angle, Andrea nodded resolutely. “That’s precisely why I’ve already informed the Prophet.”

Shit, not them!

That bastard is a heretic too, and now their involved?!

This whole situation is driving me crazy!

Should I just call for help after all?

My fingers tightened around the relic hidden beneath my clothes, its weight both a comfort and a reminder of the danger I’m in.

Ever since my confrontation with the God of Oblivion, I’ve been hesitant to summon any of the Apostles, unsure of their true intentions. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and if there’s ever a time to call on the Saint, it’s now.

If that player with distortion powers shows up, Nasir might disappear for good. And I can’t let that happen.

Putting on my best act, I turned to Andrea, my voice filled with relief. “The Prophet will take care of this? Oh, thank goodness! Roklem, please! I can’t believe something this terrible could happen within the sacred walls of the Cathedral.”

Dropping Roklem’s name casually, I played the part of the distressed innocent, even though my palms were slick with sweat. Andrea didn’t seem to notice my nerves or the fact that I had my own plans brewing.

Come on, please hurry…

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed from the stairwell, growing louder with each passing moment.

Already? That was fast.

It felt like ordering takeout and having it arrive before you even finish the call.

Like they were already cooking it before you placed the order.

Could teleportation be one of Order’s powers?

Or, if it’s the Saint, maybe he can move at supersonic speed.

As I clung to the hope that it was the Saint, a wide, joyous smile spread across Bishop Andrea’s face.

“Prophet! You arrived so quickly.”

Shit!

Of course, it wasn’t the Saint!

I’m so screwed!

“…Didn’t I tell you to wait?”

The voice drifted down the stairs, cool and sharp, belonging to a boy—fifteen, maybe sixteen—with short hair the color of fresh spring leaves.

Andrea bowed deeply, his entire body radiating reverence. “But Prophet, the evidence of this man’s heresy was too glaring to ignore.”

The boy’s gaze flicked toward Nasir, his face twisting like he’d bitten into something foul. Seeing that, my heart shrank to the size of a raisin.

Shit. What do I do now?

This damn confident player didn’t even flinch. Not even in front of an Inquisitor.

If he’s ready to bury an Inquisitor right here, in the Cathedral, he must be insanely powerful.

I just need to hold out until the Saint shows up… somehow.

“You still disobeyed me. As punishment, you’ll lose your sight and hearing for a while.”

Andrea bowed his head lower, accepting it without question. “I humbly accept the consequences of my actions. But Prophet, please, Fabio knows nothing of this, so….”

“Shut your mouth!”

The boy’s command hit Andrea like a physical blow, and he crumpled, sinking to his knees. Hands clasped, head bowed in submission, he stayed there, unmoving like a statue in prayer as the Prophet’s punishment took hold.

“Damn Fabio this, Damn Fabio that… I’m sick of hearing his name!” The boy ground his teeth, but Andrea stayed silent, oblivious, as if already cut off from the world.

Shit, I’m really f*cked.

It was painfully clear that this player had little interest in this ‘Fabio’ character.

“Um… Prophet?” I asked hesitantly.

Time to play dumb. Act like the clueless ex-serf and stall for time.

The boy’s gaze shifted toward me, his purple eyes gleaming like the scales of a snake. “Are you Fabio?”

“Y-Yes, that’s me, Great Prophet,” I stammered, laying on the nervousness.

“…You’re ugly.”

Wait, what? Out of nowhere?

An insult about my looks? Seriously?

“I thought maybe you were controlling people with some crazy high charm stat,” the boy mused, grabbing my face and turning it this way and that. “But looking at this dull mug, I’d say your charm stat barely hits 50.”

That’s surprisingly generous, actually.

Fabio’s charm stat is a sad, pathetic 30.

Does he think I’m some low-level AI NPC or something?

The boy kept rattling off comments, oblivious to the fact that I could hear every word.

“Do you have some kind of incredible hidden skill, then? Something that makes people lose their minds when you use it?”

“I… don’t understand what you mean.”

“How did you seduce Andrea?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Andrea’s really fond of you. How did you pull that off?”

“…Bishop Andrea was the one who offered me valuable guidance. I’ve simply lived according to his teachings. He must have noticed that and formed a positive opinion of me.”

“Is that really all it took?”

He pressed, as if something so simple couldn’t possibly be true.

That’s really the secret cheat code for winning over old geezers.

He just doesn’t get it.

“Yes, Prophet.”

“I don’t believe you,” the boy said flatly.

Then don’t.

“…But that’s not what’s important right now.”

Instead of elaborating on what was actually important, the boy snapped his fingers in front of my face.

What’s this? I thought, instinctively closing my eyes as soon as the notification appeared.

If I just stared blankly into space like I was reading something, it’d look suspicious. I skimmed the message as quickly as I could while minimizing any eye movements that could give me away.

[…The world around you is plunged into absolute darkness.

An eerie silence envelops you.

Swallowing even the sounds you try to make.

As the endless void surrounds you, you feel insignificant, like a speck of cosmic dust adrift in the vastness of space.

Repent until the punishment bestowed upon you ends.]

[SYSTEM: Due to the effect of ‘The Whole World Is Beneath Oneself,’ the ‘Distortion’ is provided as text.]

So, I’m supposed to act like I can’t see or hear anything?

I realized I’d been hit with the same “punishment” as Andrea.

Feigning fear, I slowly lowered myself to the ground, groping at the air as if lost and disoriented. Bowing my head so low that even if I opened my eyes, no one would notice, I ended up in a near-kneeling position.

Luckily for me, the Prophet seemed too wrapped up in his “important matter” to realize the distortion wasn’t affecting me at all.

…He’s focused on Nasir now, I observed, taking note of the Prophet’s actions.

The boy touched Nasir’s tail once, then cursed under his breath. “Shit…”

Why’s he reacting like that?

Was he mad because he thought another player’s unit had trespassed on his territory?

“I’m screwed.”

…What?

“What do I do now?” he muttered, clearly at a loss.

What the hell? He came here all high and mighty. Didn’t he have a plan?

“Messing with an Inquisitor inside the Cathedral? Are you insane?”

…So this was just Andrea’s impulsive blunder.

It happens sometimes.

Some units just go rogue, messing up the player’s strategy by doing something they weren’t ordered to do.

Yeah, makes sense. The Starry Sky hasn’t even opened yet, so there’s no way he could have that much power.

“Aaagh! You crazy bastard!” the Prophet screamed, stomping the ground like a kid throwing a tantrum.

“Shit. Is this how you cooperate? Huh? Now you want to hunt me down? Is that why you called me to the Cathedral?”

…Is he calling Andrea crazy?

I tried to make sense of his ramblings. It sounded more like he was talking about another player, not Andrea.

Who’s he suspecting?

My mind raced with theories. Could it be the Mother God player? Is the possibility-obsessed bastard some overpowered player?

The boy was pacing around the underground library, the rhythmic clicking of his footsteps and nail-biting echoing through the room.

“…So, is this another one of that crazy bastard’s traps?” he muttered.

His footsteps stopped directly in front of me.

I barely had a second to wonder what the hell he was up to before a sharp pain shot through my scalp as he yanked my hair. I had to bite my tongue to keep from screaming out loud.

Shit!

I managed to keep the scream in, but there was no hiding the agony on my face.

“Oh, right. Forgot about that.”

[SYSTEM: Due to the effect of ‘The Whole World Is Beneath Oneself,’ the ‘Distortion’ is provided as text.]

Great, now I’ve gotta act like I’m not in agony while he’s ripping my hair out?

The scumbag forced me to stand, then grabbed the reliquary around my neck, fumbling with it while muttering under his breath.

“Athanas…”

Is he planning to loot it?

I tensed up, ready to fight back if he tried to swipe it.

“Well, who else but that crazy bastard would try to bait me with a fake reliquary?”

A fake?

“Now that I’m seeing it up close, it looks even more like a cheap knockoff. Andrea must be pretty dumb to fall for this…”

I mean, technically it is a fake.

But the item inside? Very real.

…Should I be relieved he thinks it’s worthless?

If he knew it was genuine, he’d have snatched it by now, right?

“But even if it’s fake, it’s pissing me off. I’m taking it.”

Of course you are, you greedy bastard.

Typical player move.