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

#134Reader Mode

#134

“Actually, handing him over to the Inquisition might be better. If he ends up with the Research Director…” I let the words hang, unfinished.

Callister cut in. “What happens if he goes to the Research Director? Are you worried he’ll become the test subject of some gruesome experiment?”

“……”

Callister continued, feigning dramatic offense. “Ah, such prejudice! That’s hardly fair, Fabio. I know the Research Director has a reputation, but surely you shouldn’t believe all the rumors!”

As if I needed rumors to form an opinion.

My personal experience with the Research Director could be summarized as: Reality beats imagination any day.

“And let’s not forget all the good the Research Director’s done for you!”

Good? For me? Now that’s a joke.

“He fixed your arm!”

Yeah, after he chopped it off.

“And he even sent me to keep an eye on you! Just in case anything went wrong.”

Without asking me first. Pretty sure that’s called stalking, not helping.

“Well,” Callister went on, as if he hadn’t just casually trampled over the definition of ‘good,’ “Even if you don’t appreciate that, I can give you plenty of reasons why the lab is still a better option than the Inquisition.”

I arched an eyebrow, skeptical but curious. “…Alright, go on. Let’s hear it.”

“If the Inquisition takes him, there’ll be a trial. Formal hearings. Witnesses. Testimonies. Everyone even remotely connected will be dragged into the investigation. Family included. Imagine the shame and despair when it’s revealed their precious child is a heretic!”

He wasn’t wrong about that. That part stung with the truth.

It was like discovering your straight-A, varsity-captain son was secretly the leader of an internationally wanted terrorist organization.

“So, what if I handle the aftermath instead?” Callister offered. “Quietly. Cleanly. No one suffers, and his family doesn’t have to know a thing.”

That’s a bit…

…Isn’t it?

Shouldn’t the family know what Reyes has been through? The thought of parents blissfully believing their kid was living a normal, carefree life while he endured unspeakable horrors felt… wrong.

But then again, the real ‘Reyes Floren’ doesn’t exist anymore, does he? His body, his name—everything that once made him Reyes—was gone. All of it now belonged to Athanasuki.

And when this game finally ends, who’s going to be left standing in that body? Will it truly be Reyes Floren?

Athanas’s clipped voice snapped me out of my spiraling thoughts. “We’re running out of time. Can you repair this place completely and erase all traces of what happened here?”

“You’re asking for a miracle,” Callister smirked. “But… it’s doable. On one condition: you agree to participate in one experiment as payment.”

My stomach flipped. I grabbed Athanas’s sleeve, shaking my head furiously. Absolutely not. There was no universe where the Research Director was a reasonable option.

Let’s just call an Inquisitor, I mouthed, hoping Athanas would listen to reason.

For a moment, he glanced at me, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he turned back to Callister.

“I have no intention of participating in any experiment. If you’re unwilling to handle the cleanup, that’s your choice. But let me make one thing clear: if this isn’t dealt with flawlessly, someone will investigate. And when they do? They’ll find out it was you who took the heretic.”

Callister’s smirk faltered, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“Oh dear… that’s quite troublesome.”

“So what have you decided on?”

“I’ll have to let it go for now. Can’t risk losing such a valuable test subject.”

With surprising ease, Callister bent down and scooped Reyes into his arms, handling him more like an artifact than an unconscious person.

I moved to follow, but Athanas stepped in front of me, cutting me off.

“Fabio, we need to talk.”

“About what…?” I asked, already wary.

Athanas crossed his arms, giving me a pointed look. “Let’s start with what just happened, shall we?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Sure. How about you start by returning the holy relic you borrowed?” I jabbed a finger at the crossbow in his hand.

He barely glanced at it before turning on his heel and heading toward Callister. Without a word, Athanas dumped the crossbow on top of Reyes, as if the guy were a convenient storage rack.

Callister blinked, incredulous. “Why are you handing this to me?”

Athanas shrugged. “It needs to be returned with him. The bolt’s already in his forehead, so you might as well handle it.”

“Excuse me? Are you actually trying to pin your unauthorized use of Church property on me?!” Callister’s voice rose, his expression swinging between disbelief and exasperation.

Athanas didn’t even flinch. “The Research Director ‘borrows’ Church property all the time. Everyone knows that. It’s practically tradition.”

Callister scowled. “So your solution is to dump another stolen relic on us and hope no one notices? Brilliant.” He shot Athanas an irritated look before muttering, “Honestly. And from a holy knight, no less…”

Despite his grumbling, Callister carefully secured the crossbow, muttering under his breath about how annoying the whole thing was.

Athanas turned back to me, brushing off his hands like he’d just wrapped up a minor chore. “There. Resolved.”

I stared at him, completely dumbfounded.

…When did Athanas and Callister get so chummy?

The last time they met—back at the Main Building—they’d acted like strangers. Now, they were tag-teaming this mess like they’d been partners for years.

He doesn’t even know Callister is a clone of the Research Director. Yet, judging by how comfortable they seemed just now, their dynamic was… unusually familiar.

“How did you know Callister would agree to return the holy relic for you?”

“I didn’t.”

“Then…?”

“If he’d refused, I’d have handled it myself. But there was no harm in asking first.”

Seriously?

Something about his nonchalance set off alarms. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how little I truly understood Athanas. Even the clumsy, hesitant impression he’d given when we first met… That had been a lie. A complete act.

It struck me then. I didn’t really know him at all.

“Fabio.”

Athanas’s voice pulled me back to the present. He moved to the door, locking it after Callister left. The muffled sounds of the hallway vanished, leaving us alone in silence.

“Start talking. Tell me everything. Start with your visit to the Inquisition.”

…How much should I tell him?

Could I trust him with everything? Even the truth about the players?

I hesitated, weighing my options, before deciding to tread carefully.

I began with how I’d run into Nasir. How we’d gone to find Bishop Andrea together. How Nasir insisted on speaking with Andrea alone and how he hadn’t come back, even after a long time.

I explained how worried I was until I couldn’t take it anymore. How I’d gone looking for him, fearing he’d fallen into a trap.

And that’s when I met the man they called the Prophet.

Athanas frowned.

“And even in that situation,” he said slowly, “you didn’t use your hidden trump card?”

“I did use it.”

“…So the Watched One survived even after meeting the Saint?”

“No. I sent the Saint away.”

Athanas stared at me, his expression a carefully maintained blank slate.

I couldn’t meet his gaze. My eyes slid to the side, suddenly fascinated by the cracked edge of the wall.

“He was the first ‘Watched One’ I’d met, so I had… a lot of questions,” I admitted. “Honestly, he was more reasonable than I expected.”

Unlike me, the other Watched Ones have something I don’t—a Helper. Helpers are fragments of Othergods, manipulative entities that reward certain actions and push players toward completing quests.

Reyes, however, had the misfortune of being chosen by the most malicious Othergod imaginable.

“The Helper… It suddenly raised Reyes’s favorability toward me. It forced him to like me.”

Athanas had been calm up until now, listening quietly, but his composure finally cracked. Confusion flickered across his face.

“…Why is that Othergod considered the most malicious?”

I took a steadying breath, bracing myself. “Reyes has this… quirk. He wants to die at the hands of someone he loves. Since he refuses to take his own life, his Helper exploits that. It tries to manipulate him into committing suicide.”

Athanas’s frown deepened, his brows drawing together.

“Was that ‘quirk’ caused by distortion?”

“Um… no, I don’t think so,” I said, scratching awkwardly at the back of my neck. “I think he’s just… always been like that. Remember when I told you there are people who think dying at your hands would be their life’s goal?”

Athanas’s face shifted to one of sheer incomprehension, like I’d just spoken a foreign language.

I winced internally. This wasn’t going anywhere productive. Deciding it was best to cut my losses, I redirected the conversation.

“Anyway,” I said quickly, “the important thing is that Reyes must not be killed. Even if he dies, he’ll resurrect—completely unharmed—on the day the Starry Sky opens. Until then, killing him would just make him impossible to track down and deal with properly.”

Athanas went quiet again, his eyes drifting somewhere far away as if he was still piecing everything together.

“If I hadn’t shown up… what exactly were you planning to do?” he asked finally.

“Huh?”

“You said you didn’t want to hand him over to the Inquisition, so reporting him yourself was out. Calling the Saint again seems even less likely. And since you went out of your way to avoid me, it’s clear you weren’t planning to tell me either.”

His gaze shifted back to mine.

“So, what was the plan? What were you going to do on your own?”

The truth? I’d been planning to report him.

That was the idea, anyway. Get Reyes to spill as much information as I could, then hand him over to the Inquisition. Clean, straightforward, and most importantly, safe for me.

Because if Reyes said anything about me to another player, I’d be the one in danger.

…But who am I kidding? I probably wouldn’t have gone through with it.

Even now, I can’t stop second-guessing myself. If we’d spent the whole night talking—about anything, everything—I probably would’ve found some excuse to delay it.

I’ve never even twisted a chicken’s neck. How the hell was I supposed to kill a raccoon?

Let’s face it: I would’ve done nothing. I’d have rationalized it, convinced myself there was some hidden benefit to keeping him around, even if there wasn’t.

“It’s a good thing I got here when I did,” Athanas said with a hint of disapproval.

…Though, honestly? A part of me couldn’t help but wonder if it might’ve been better if he’d shown up just a little later. Or earlier. Preferably without smashing through walls like some overenthusiastic action hero.

Maybe then, we could’ve had more time. More options.

Maybe we could have sat down and talked it through. Just the three of us…

“Fabio, you have a remarkably poor sense of danger.”

I couldn’t help but feel a little wronged.

I’ve never been accused of being reckless or careless with my own safety before.

“…To be precise,” Athanas continued, like a scolding elder, “you let your guard down too easily around people who show you a shred of kindness.”

“Me?”

“Take Bishop Andrea, for example. Or Reyes. They both like you, or at least pretend to, and it’s made you blind to the danger. Let me guess, you’re already thinking, ‘Maybe I can save them somehow?’ But those two are madmen, Fabio. They’d kill you without hesitation.”

That’s not true, though, I thought, my jaw tightening.

I know my limits. What power could I possibly have to save someone caught in the grasp of an Othergod? None.

“…And yet,” Athanas continued. “Even though their kindness is fabricated, even though it could vanish at any moment, you’re still worried about them.”

But isn’t that just a natural human reaction?

If someone treats me well, isn’t it normal to feel a little guilty about screwing them over? It’s not like my judgment was completely clouded. I wasn’t insisting on saving anyone at all costs. I’d already accepted I’d walk away if I had to.

Feeling a bit sulky, I shot back, “You’re very insightful. I didn’t even realize I had such a habit. Hearing you say that makes me think I ought to be wary of you first, Athanas.”

“…Do you think I would ever try to harm you?”

The question caught me off guard. Athanas looked genuinely startled, his expression slipping into something raw, uncharacteristically vulnerable.

His reaction made me panic a little. “No, no, it’s not that,” I said quickly. “It’s just… you said I’m weak around people who care about me. And, well, Athanas, you’ve shown me the most concern. So much so that it makes me wonder why you go so far for me. If what you said is true, then my judgment must be completely gone when it comes to you. So I figured I’d better pull myself together, that’s all.”

For a moment, Athanas didn’t say anything. He just looked at me, his gaze intense, dark blue and fathomless, like he was searching for something I wasn’t sure I could give.

“…Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

Slowly, Athanas reached out, his hand caressing my left cheek with surprising gentleness. I didn’t move. A strange, ticklish warmth unfurled in my chest as I stared into those deep, endless eyes.

After a moment, I raised my hand and gently guided his away. “Well… now that we’re done talking, shouldn’t we go find the Research Director?”

Worried I might sound too concerned about Reyes, I quickly added, “You know, to warn him. Stuff like, ‘Don’t kill him,’ or the specifics about his power.”

Athanas nodded, his expression thoughtful. “…I’ll pass that along to Callister. He’s waiting outside.”

Callister? I blinked. Hadn’t he already left? There was no way he’d been standing in the hallway this whole time… right?

Before I could ask, Athanas turned and opened the door. Instantly, a group of hooded figures turned toward us in eerie synchronization.

Holy shit!

I nearly jumped. Seven of them. Moving as one, perfectly in sync. The precision was… a bit scary, to say the least. Then, one of them waved.

What the—was I supposed to wave back? My hand twitched indecisively, but before I could decide, Athanas stepped out and shut the door behind him with a firm click.

…So, I guess that means I shouldn’t even think about heading to the Main Building, huh?

Still, my thoughts kept circling back to Reyes. What were they planning to do with him? Colomba has already been influenced by me before, which made Forced Persuasion possible. But convincing Athanas without tipping him off about my skill… that was going to be tricky.

I’ll try sending Reyes a message first and ask what’s going on.

Of course, the moment I message Pandemonium, my username would be revealed anyway. No way around that.

My “Happy War Evangelist” username wasn’t exactly subtle. It practically announced, ‘Here’s the guy working for the Happy God.’ Even so, it wouldn’t take long for them to figure it out by process of elimination. One player is missing from the group chat? Yeah, that’d be Happy God’s contractor.

As I mulled it over, Athanas opened the door and stepped back inside.

…Why does he always lock the door?

Was it really necessary to activate the Blessing of Soundproofing every single time?

“Um… I thought we were done talking?” I asked, shifting uncomfortably.

It would definitely be better if Athanas wasn’t around when I sent the chat message. Saying my username out loud in front of him would be awkward.

Athanas glanced at me with his usual calm expression. “…I let them know I’ll be spending the night somewhere else tonight.”

I blinked, caught completely off guard.

Spending the night somewhere else?

Wait, did that mean I could sneak off to the Main Building and check on Reyes? If Athanas didn’t have a set time to be back, that gave me until morning. Was he offering to come with me?

“So, I’ll stay here tonight,” he added, his tone making it clear this wasn’t up for discussion.

“…What?”

Before my brain could fully process what he’d just said, Athanas started stripping off his gear. His nonchalance suggested either he didn’t notice my confusion or simply thought I’d agreed.

I froze. Buffering.

It took a moment, but my brain finally rebooted, only for flustered panic to follow right behind it.

“Wait, why do you have to sleep here?!”

Athanas sighed, looking absolutely drained. “Yesterday and today… haven’t we been through enough? You need rest, and so do I.”

“Okay… but can’t you just sleep at your place? My bed’s too small for two people.”

He didn’t even flinch at my protest, his hands already busy unfastening his doublet. “I’m worried you might recklessly do something dangerous while I’m asleep.”

I opened my mouth to argue—really, I did—but the memory of hiding the reliquary and sneaking into the Main Building yesterday stopped me dead in my tracks.

“I’m planning to behave myself today, though,” I protested, though it came out more like a feeble excuse than a promise.

“Then you shouldn’t mind me staying here.”

“……”

Not giving me any room to argue, he added, “I’ve set up a mechanism to know if the door opens, so don’t even think about going anywhere.”

So this is what it feels like to hit absolute zero on the trust meter.

Athanas glanced at me, his expression softening, just a little. “If you absolutely need to see him, let’s go tomorrow. Together.”

And with that, he climbed onto my bed, stretched out, and shut his eyes.

“Athanas?”

No response.

Was he already asleep?

Damn, he must’ve been really exhausted.

Every time I saw him, he looked like he was running on fumes. Was his training really that brutal?

I watched him for a moment, his face relaxed for once, the weight of exhaustion etched into every line. It felt strange seeing him like this… unguarded.

Shaking off the awkwardness, I turned away and rummaged through the chest in my room. I pulled out a blanket and some spare clothes—anything soft enough to pass for bedding—and spread them out on the floor.

It wasn’t much better than sleeping straight on the ground, but it would have to do.

Still… of all times, I had to have that dream yesterday.

Just thinking about it—dreaming that I’d hugged Athanas to sleep—was enough to make me flustered. As if him actually sleeping here wasn’t awkward enough already.

The floor was hard, but I must’ve been more exhausted than I realized. I closed my eyes, letting the pull of drowsiness take over, and drifted off.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

I woke up drenched in cold sweat, my heart pounding so violently it felt like it might leap into my throat.

Shit….

The nightmare clung to me, refusing to dissolve like they usually did. It stayed sharp, vivid. The Callisters. Dozens of them. Axes in their hands, the metal flashing unnaturally bright against the heavy, oppressive dark.

But it wasn’t the glint of their weapons that stuck with me.

It was their laughter.

That sound—low at first, then rising in a joyful, eerie, synchronized wave. It drilled into my skull, each echo carving deeper than the last.

They were chasing someone.

But not me.

Reyes.

I could still see him, staggering through the darkness, his steps clumsy and frantic. His arms flailed, desperate for balance, for escape. His wild eyes darted, searching for something—no, for someone. Me. Always me.

His head looked this way and that until, with a hideous crack… it turned too far.

And fell.

I could still hear it. The wet, heavy thud as his head hit the ground. The way it bounced once. Then rolled.

And stopped.

Those vacant, lifeless eyes… finally found mine.

I dragged a trembling hand down my face, trying to scrub the memory away. The image. The sound. The feeling.

What the hell kind of nightmare was that?

I guess I was more worried about Reyes than I wanted to admit.

I started to sit up, but something heavy was draped over me, pressing me firmly against the bed.

…Athanas?

The fog of sleep clung stubbornly to my thoughts, blurring the lines between dream and reality. I blinked, disoriented, straining to make sense of what I felt, what I saw. Bit by bit, reality began to settle into focus.

I’d fallen asleep on the floor, hadn’t I? At some point, Athanas must have woken up and carried me to the bed with him.

The complete opposite of yesterday morning.

I blinked against the soft sunlight streaming through the window, squinting as my eyes adjusted. The golden light spilled in, weaving through the thin plaster panels and draping the room in a hazy, dreamlike glow. Long shadows stretched lazily across the floor, tracing the contours of the room. Late morning, I guessed. Maybe close to nine.

The sunlight caught on Athanas’s face, highlighting it in a way that felt… unreal. His handsome jawline and cheekbones, so intimidating in the dark, now seemed gentler, smoothed by the warmth of the morning. The light gave him an almost ethereal quality, softening the harshness the world had carved into him.

For once, he was completely still. His breathing was even, unhurried, his expression peaceful. It was as if the chaos, the nightmares, the crushing weight of everything—none of it could touch him here. Not in this moment.

Something about the sight twisted deep inside me, an ache coiling tighter in my chest with every breath I took.

How do I even explain it?

It was like one of those happy scenes from a romance novel, the kind you skim past because they’re too perfect to feel real. A couple tangled beneath thin white sheets, golden light spilling over them like warm honey. A fragile memory that vanishes the moment you realize it’s slipping through your fingers.

Maybe it’s just leftover tension from the nightmare, I told myself, my mind grasping for explanations, trying to smother the unease building inside.

But the feeling wouldn’t go away.

It lingered, gnawing at the edges of this peaceful moment. A quiet, insistent dread that refused to be pushed aside.

That terrible sense of foreboding that comes before everything falls apart.

The calm before the storm.