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

#146Reader Mode

Trigger Warning: May contain scenes of violence that are graphically depicted, which may upset sensitive viewers.

#146

“So, the second we draw our swords, it’s a fight to the death?”

It was an absolute mess of a duel.

The air crackled with tension, thick and electric—less like some formal historical duel and more like the moment before a storm breaks. No crowd watched with bated breath, no officials inspected their weapons, none of that ceremonial garbage. Just two opponents, their shadows stretching long across empty ground, standing on the precipice of violence.

And Pandemonium wouldn’t have it any other way.

Adding all those rules would just be annoying anyway.

If some ridiculous regulation stopped him from killing his opponent after they surrendered, that would be infuriating.

It didn’t matter if Athanas used poison. It didn’t matter if he called upon whatever strange power Insanity had gifted him. No matter what tricks he pulled, Pandemonium knew he would win.

After all, the God of War’s blessing was downright busted in a one-on-one, fight-to-the-death scenario.

If anyone’s got a problem with the lack of formalities, my family can deal with the complaints.

His fingers had barely tightened around his sword’s grip when Athanas drew his blade—the movement so fast it was a flash. Pandemonium’s instincts kicked in, his telekinetic power lashing out like an uncoiled whip to ensnare the man.

No one said abilities were off-limits.

But the Heretic Slayer didn’t flinch. The guy didn’t even blink. His sword, a silver streak, sliced through Pandemonium’s telekinetic bonds like they were nothing. The casual ease of it gave Pandemonium pause.

Shit. His reaction speed is insane.

There wasn’t time to process that thought. Athanas moved like a bolt of lightning—one moment standing still, the next appearing right in front of him. Their swords met with a sound like a thunderclap, steel shrieking against steel. The force of the impact rattled Pandemonium’s bones, and Athanas’s blade stopped just shy of his throat, close enough for him to feel the icy point of the blade against his skin.

Being forced onto the defensive? That stung his pride more than any wound ever could.

Pandemonium’s arms became a blur as he parried Athanas’s relentless assault. The Heretic Slayer’s sword cut through the air like a damn executioner’s guillotine, each strike flowing into the next like water. Every blow came quicker than the one before, and Pandemonium’s muscles burned as he fought to keep up.

Pandemonium grit his teeth as he realized his mistake. He’d been so damn fixated on that iconic image of the Heretic Slayer crushing enemies with his two-handed holy hammer that he’d completely forgotten just how fast the bastard was with a sword.

Their swords met again and again in a deadly dance, throwing off brilliant sparks like fallen stars. But even as Pandemonium’s body moved on instinct, his mind raced through possibilities.

How should I kill him?

Then he caught it—a detail so small most would have missed it entirely. When Athanas cut through his telekinetic attacks, there was the tiniest lag. Three frames maybe. But in a fight like this, even that fraction of a second could mean everything. ¹T/N: A “Frame” in gaming refers to a single image in an animation or video. Games run at a speed measured in frames per second (FPS)—the higher the FPS, the smoother the game looks. For example, a game running at 60 FPS is displaying 60 images per second, making movement feel fluid. Frames also matter in game mechanics, especially when it comes to things like hitboxes and timing. Actions like attacks, dodges, or even landing a perfect combo are often calculated based on specific frames.

An opening.

I could end this now if I wanted to. Carve him into a cute little star with that opening.

Pandemonium thought, watching that tiny opening like a hunter tracking prey. But victory wasn’t his only concern.

How do I make this look justified? Should I just go for a clean beheading? No…

The real challenge wasn’t killing Athanas—it was making the fight look genuine. A quick, clean win wouldn’t do. He needed this battle to seem desperate, hard-fought. When it was over, he wanted his hyung to understand that there had been no other choice. That way, he wouldn’t resent him for it.

But how do I make it convincing?

Pandemonium let his guard drop just slightly, allowing Athanas’s blade to catch his arm. The cut drew a line of blood, but he barely noticed the pain. His mind was already several moves ahead, calculating his next strike. A wound to the head would work perfectly—dramatic enough to make the fight look real, but nothing that would actually slow him down.

“Ah—”

A soft gasp escaped Pandemonium’s lips… just enough to make it seem like he’d faltered.

And Athanas took the bait.

The Heretic Slayer stepped forward to strike, but he was a frame too late. Pandemonium’s blade thrusted out, plunging deep into Athanas’s side. Blood blossomed across the white fabric of his tunic, spreading outward like petals unfurling.

Pandemonium barely stopped himself from shaking his head. Even when he was trying to make this look difficult, victory came too easily.

He tightened his grip, ready to pull his sword free. But he should have known better—this was the Heretic Slayer, after all. The man who had stared down hoards of mutated heretics without flinching. The holy knight whose legend was built on refusing to yield, even in the face of certain death.

What happened next made Pandemonium’s blood run cold.

Instead of staggering backward, Athanas stepped toward him. His hand grabbed the blade buried in his side, not to remove it, but to drive it deeper, dragging Pandemonium closer. Blood ran freely from the wound, but Athanas’s expression remained unchanging as stone. There was no trace of pain in his face—only eyes like winter steel, burning with terrible resolve.

And then—

F*ck.

The truth hit Pandemonium in the same instant as Athanas’s blade, but understanding came too late.

Six frames. That was all it took.

The sword moved with impossible speed. Through fabric, through flesh, through bone—a perfect strike straight to his heart. A counter-attack so flawless he never had a chance to see it coming.

Pandemonium’s breath caught in his throat. His entire body went rigid. The pain wasn’t the burning fire he’d expected—instead, it was a deep, spreading cold that stole the air from his lungs.

Well played, you crafty bastard.

He clicked his tongue in his mind.

This is such bullshit.

Pandemonium’s fingers went slack, releasing his sword as he stumbled backward. Athanas’s blade remained lodged in his chest like a silver nail. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, but his thoughts stayed strangely clear.

Leave it to the God of War to be so damn dramatic about death. He doesn’t allow resurrections.

Death in battle was one of the War God’s unbreakable laws. Apparently, a general reviving from the death clashed with His “dying gloriously in battle” aesthetic. But He’d given Pandemonium something different instead to compensate—a miracle that bent the rules without breaking them.

A fierce grin spread across Pandemonium’s face as his fingers closed around the sword’s hilt. He pulled it free with a sound like a boot pulling from mud, but where blood should have gushed from the wound… nothing. His flesh knit itself back together, veins greedily reclaiming every blood drop, the wound closing as if it had never been. His heart beat steady and strong, perfectly whole.

The blade shone silver in the light, without a drop of blood on it.

Ha… damn. This is embarrassing.

The War God had blessed him with a “Restoration” trait—the power to heal from any wound, no matter how deadly. According to War, even if someone took Pandemonium’s head clean off, he’d be fine as long as he put it back on quickly enough.

Though really, Pandemonium thought with wry amusement, isn’t it a bit ridiculous to claim you haven’t lost a fight when you’re trying to reattach your own head?

But mortals could never understand the aesthetic logic of an Othergod.

Across from him, Athanas pulled Pandemonium’s sword from his side and flicked it. Blood arced through the air before splattering onto the ground. Though he’d avoided nicking a major artery, blood still flowed from the wound… without help soon, the Heretic Slayer wouldn’t live for much longer.

They stood facing each other, each holding the other’s sword, neither willing to surrender.

“…That’s a heretic’s power.” Athanas accused.

Pandemonium’s lips curved into a sharp smile as he tilted his head. “Oh yeah? Prove it.” He gestured to his chest where his torn clothes revealed unblemished skin—no trace of the fatal wound that should have been there.

Athanas raised the bloodied sword, its tip leveled at Pandemonium’s throat. “Ask the Lord for forgiveness, and I will spare your life.”

Pandemonium let out a harsh laugh. “Unbelievable. You really think I’m the heretic here?”

There was no point pretending anymore. He wouldn’t be able to make it look like self-defense after this. The fight’s outcome had already been decided, so why drag it out? Pandemonium’s grip tightened on his borrowed sword, the leather wrapping pressing into his palm as he prepared to strike the final blow.

I can’t possibly lose. Pandemonium told himself.

But standing there with his guard down, confidence flowing through his veins… felt like a death flag. Like those moments in stories where the cocky villain suddenly realizes their fatal mistake, right before the hero strikes them down with a finisher.²T/N: A “Finisher” move in gaming is a powerful, often cinematic attack used to take down an enemy in a dramatic way. You’ll usually see these in fighting games, action games, and RPGs, where they either instantly kill an opponent or deal massive final damage. Think of Fatalities from Mortal Kombat or Ultimate abilities from League of Legends—they’re flashy, satisfying, and often a game-changer.

But this was different. His confidence wasn’t just blind arrogance. It was based on facts and an objective assessment of the situation. Once he received a trait that allowed him to heal from any wound, losing was impossible.

…Right?

A sliver of doubt crept in.

Why isn’t he surprised?

Pandemonium searched Athanas’s face for any hint of shock or wonder at seeing someone survive the impossible. But the Heretic Slayer’s expression remained indifferent. His posture stayed relaxed, his eyes calm… he didn’t show even a flicker of interest. As if watching a man cheat death was nothing remarkable at all.

And that, more than anything else, made Pandemonium’s confidence waver for the first time.

Even the most hardened killers would show some reaction to seeing their opponent survive a fatal blow without a scratch.

But Athanas? He was perfectly composed. Unnaturally so.

Even Insanity doesn’t know about my trait that allows me to survive being beheaded… Pandemonium thought, unease growing in his chest. And even if Insanity had somehow discovered his secret and warned Athanas, that wouldn’t explain this unsettling calm. There was only one explanation that made sense…

Athanas wasn’t surprised because he’d seen this power before.

…Retrograde?

The realization hit him like ice water. If Athanas had that power—the ability to rewind time itself—then even if Pandemonium won this fight, it wouldn’t matter. Athanas could undo every defeat, correct every mistake, until he became impossible to beat.

There wasn’t time to prove his theory. He had to assume the worst and act as if it were true.

For the first time since the fight began, real fear crept into Pandemonium’s thoughts.

What can I possibly do?

Every attack he could think of would just become another pattern for Athanas to learn from and counter. Each strategy, no matter how smart, would only serve as knowledge for the next attempt. Then an even worse thought struck him.

What if the very next move he was planning to use had already failed in a timeline he couldn’t remember?

All he could do was stall for time. But even that felt like delaying the inevitable. How could he stop someone with the power to turn back time?

Strike fast enough to cut off his tongue so he can’t speak?

Cut off his head before he can use Retrograde?

Possible plans raced through his mind, each one more hopeless than the last. But no real answer emerged. Just an endless spiral of what-ifs.

I don’t know how to win this.

The thought was bitter to accept.

How the f*ck am I supposed to fight him?

Then, like light cutting through storm clouds, a single clear thought emerged.

…I have to warn hyung.

His hyung must not know about this yet. If he knew Athanas had Retrograde, he’d never risk getting close. And there was no telling what Athanas might do with the power to turn back time.

Pandemonium’s gaze snapped to Athanas, who fought with reckless, suicidal abandon. And yet, there was an unsettling confidence in his every move, making the sight all the more terrifying. It all made sense now. To Athanas, this fight was already lost… this entire moment was meant to be erased…

But what happened in those vanished timelines?

What had that madman done to his hyung in those deleted moments?

If he could just get a message to him…

“Ha—”

The name died in his throat as an icy numbness spread through his entire body. His muscles seized up, limbs locking in place as if the air around him had turned to solid stone. Pure fear coursed through him.

What’s happening to me?

The feeling was strange, yet terrifyingly familiar. He’d experienced this paralysis before… but this wasn’t the work of Order’s power.

Divine power surged through Pandemonium like wildfire, burning away whatever force held him still. His muscles trembled with effort as he broke free of the invisible hold.

But the moment he regained control, Athanas made his move. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed something into the air. Pandemonium’s gaze followed automatically, drawn by a terrible sense of recognition.

A severed eye spun above them, still wet with blood, a thin thread of nerve tissue dangling beneath it like a gruesome ribbon. Its purple iris glowed faintly as it stared down at him.

“Sukidesu?”

Before he could process what he was seeing, Athanas was already upon him—a blur of speed, his holy hammer materializing mid-swing. The massive weapon filled Pandemonium’s vision like a descending star, divine judgment crashing down.

“Ah…”

Understanding crashed over him, stealing his breath.

This bastard has Quick slot.³T/N: A “Quick Slot” in gaming is basically a shortcut that lets players quickly access important items, abilities, or weapons without digging through your inventory. It’s usually a small bar or a set of slots on the screen where you can assign things like potions, spells, or weapons. That way, instead of pausing to search for them, you can use them instantly with the press of a button. So Athanas used Quick Slot to instantly summon his holy hammer.

CRACK!

A sound like the world splitting apart reverberated through his skull. Light exploded behind his eyes—pain, then—

Nothing.

Like leaves swept into a storm’s wake, his consciousness scattered.

***

… I could smell the blood from far away.

My head wouldn’t stop throbbing.

Shit, shit, shit.

I didn’t care about looking crazy or who might see me. I just kept shouting Pandemonium’s name as I ran…

[SYSTEM: Pandemonium has blocked you.]

[SYSTEM: Pandemonium has blocked you.]

[SYSTEM: Pandemonium has blocked you.]

But my messages weren’t going through. The same notification flashed repeatedly, each one making my heart sink further.

When I finally reached the site where the fight had happened…

“…Athanas?”

He was hammering something into the ground with a steady, familiar rhythm. Then I realized what he was doing, what that dark, broken mass beneath him was. My stomach lurched and I nearly threw up.

What… what am I looking at?

“Fabio.”

Athanas turned to face me, his eyes meeting mine. I couldn’t move. He was drenched in blood. It covered his hair, streamed down his face and clothes, forming a dark puddle around where he stood. There was so much of it that honestly, it looked unreal.

If this were a movie’s special effects makeup, I’d rate it maybe two stars out of ten.

How can I explain it? He didn’t look like someone fresh from a deadly battle. He looked more like he’d just stumbled out of some wild tomato-throwing festival.

…Do tomatoes have a lot of iron in them?

No, that was spinach that was famous for iron content.

Though actually, that whole spinach-iron thing came from someone messing up a decimal point ages ago.

Truth is, spinach has pretty normal iron levels.

So maybe red tomatoes could have more iron than green spinach.

Which means… this metallic smell could just be tomatoes—

“Is something wrong?”

The tomato-festival champion Athanas stepped closer, still gripping the hammer. Each step of his heavy boots made a tiny, horrible squelching sound against the bloodied ground.

A sharp pain suddenly pierced through my head, like fire spreading from the back of my eye through my skull. I squeezed my eyes shut as everything blurred, feeling tears well up.

This had to be just a migraine, right?

“Pandemonium…” I whispered his name.

But the system stayed silent. No friendly notification sound, no floating message window appeared. Just the hollow quiet that follows after Game Over.

I shouldn’t have been surprised. The system always did this, always abandoned me when I needed it most.

“Pandemonium, Pandemonium, Pandemonium…”

I could see Athanas’s mouth forming words, but I couldn’t hear him over the roaring in my ears.

This has to be a nightmare.

Yeah… this was definitely a nightmare. Like when you’re caught in one of those dreams where the world starts warping at the edges and every breath feels like you’re underwater, where sounds echo in ways they shouldn’t.

This definitely wasn’t a good dream.

So it had to be a nightmare.

What an incredibly stupid, terrible dream to have.

“Fabio.”

Athanas spoke with an eerie calmness. The hammer made a heavy thud as he set it down, releasing another wave of that sharp metallic scent that I didn’t want to think about. Then his hand found mine, trying to pull it away from my face.

“Why are you covering your eye—”

“Aaaagh!!”

I couldn’t hold back my scream as I tried to rip my hand away from his grip. A sob escaped me as pain shot through my head – white-hot and blinding, radiating from my eye through my whole body. My stomach churned and my heart raced so fast I could barely breathe.

“…Fabio.”

But Athanas’s fingers only tightened as he pulled me closer. My shoulder ached from trying to pull away, but I couldn’t escape his hold. Everything started to blur, a red haze bleeding around the edges of my vision.

Why…

Why is he smiling?

There was nothing about this that could make anyone smile. Nothing at all.

Pandemonium had been right. He had warned me. Whatever this…thing wearing Athanas’s face wasn’t really Athanas, just the Heretic Slayer. The real one would never look like this… would never wear that expression of pure bliss.

“Haha…” The Heretic Slayer’s laugh rang out light and cheerful, so wrong against everything happening around us.

“…Why the hell are you laughing?”

“Oh, I apologize. I’m just… feeling rather happy.”

“Happy…?”

The word felt wrong, meaningless. What was there to be happy about in all this horror?

“Is it very painful?”

The Heretic Slayer’s hand reached toward me, his fingers stopping just shy of touching my left eye. He was being careful not to touch whatever was dripping from it.

I glanced down at my hand, still trapped in his grip. My palm, the one I’d been pressing against my eye, was stained with blood.

Wait.

I’d never had a strong sense of smell. There was no way I could have detected that scent from so far away.

Which could only mean…

I’d been crying blood this entire time without realizing it.

And this burning sensation wasn’t just a migraine.

…The reliquary.

I looked at his chestplate. Blood flowed down his side like raindrops, collecting at his feet. The wound wouldn’t stop, feeding the dark pool beneath him.

And with that sight came a terrible truth I didn’t want to face…

I knew what was inside that reliquary.

“Next time, I won’t let any harm come to me,” the Heretic Slayer promised softly.

No. That couldn’t be what this meant. But if it wasn’t true, why did it feel like my skull was filled with fire?

This… had to be a nightmare.

Just another bad dream, the kind that doesn’t really end, just flows into the next, dragging you deeper into an endless dark you can’t escape…

The Heretic Slayer’s hand darted out, catching something small and round that had fallen. He pressed it against his lips with gentleness—a bloody sphere of writhing maggots, twisting against each other.

“…I’m sorry,” he whispered.

And then—

***

>>「 It’s kinda funny, but I’m really f*cking glad you’re Happy God’s player, hyung. 」

「 The hell? Are you making fun of me?」

>> 「No, I mean it. To be honest, if you were Mother God’s player, I don’t think I’d have any chance against you.」

And now?

…Yeah, I still can’t win.

Just for a different reason.

Victory isn’t even possible for me anymore.

「Even if I became Mother God’s player, there’s no way I could follow the strategy clips perfectly. I’d be too much of a wimp.」

I mean, I’d have to eat insects, transform people into bug creatures, all of that.

How could anyone do that and keep their sanity?

>>「Maybe you’d develop the mental strength for it over time?」

「Ugh… That’s f*cking disgusting.」

Would I even be the same person if I changed that much?

Someone who eats human flesh, breeds insects, and calls those horrible monsters his children.

「Yeah… looking at it that way, I’m actually really glad I ended up as Happy God’s player too.」

T/N: Shoutout to the amazing readers over in the RIDI comment section who took the time to break down these explanations for everyone! Seriously, if you haven’t already, go check out the comments and show some love to the author.

Reading the comments after something wild happens in Othergod feels like that scene from Community where everything is in absolute chaos—theories flying, people shouting WTF, others desperately trying to restore their sanity. It’s pure madness, but in the best way. Everyone scrambling to piece things together while refilling their SAN points? Fun and wholesome. Always a great read.

( •̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑ Anyway, let’s clear up some of these timeline shenanigans:

The Purple Eye That Stopped Pandemonium

A relic imbued with the power of the Distorted God, made from Athanasuki’s (Sukidesu) very own eye. Looks like Athanas had a contingency plan ready after his last fight with Pandemonium. Which means… yeah. Athanas went and gouged Sukidesu’s eye out before this duel began.

The “Blocked Player” Notification Stopped Popping Up

No matter how many times Fabio tried to message Pandemonium, the blocked notifications suddenly stopped midway through. And in the Dark Realm, when a player dies for good—when they hit Game Over—their chat goes silent. You can’t contact them anymore.

In other words, Pandemonium is dead.

Athanas made sure of it too. He didn’t just kill him—he crushed his skull with a hammer, grinding it down until there was nothing left to put back together. Apparently, last round, Pandemonium must have survived because he reattached his head fast enough.

Athanas wasn’t about to let that happen again.

Athanas Smiling While Watching Fabio Cry Blood

If someone truly cares about the one carrying their reliquary, then the body part they sacrificed will burn with unbearable pain when that person is dying or critically injured.

Which means… Fabio really does love him.

Athanas realized this and it made him very happy.

Possibly the worst time ever to smile like that though, Athanas. Lol Scary.

Kissing the Maggot-Infested Orb

This was the replacement eye Fabio had gotten after the Papabio Library Incident—the very event he had spent so long convincing himself was nothing more than a nightmare. But after realizing what was inside Athanas’s reliquary, he couldn’t deny it anymore.

It had really happened.

Athanas had gouged out his left eye and placed it inside his reliquary. And now, as he faced the undeniable proof, a far more horrifying realization took hold—

The eye he had now wasn’t even his.

Something inside Fabio broke as his sanity slipped away. His mind rejected it all—his body, the truth, the horror of what had happened. His left eye collapsed back into a writhing mass of maggots.

But Athanas didn’t seem shocked at all and just gave it a kiss. It really makes you wonder… how many times before has he seen Fabio break like this?

Fabio, Horrified, Realizes Athanas has Retrograde

Watching Athanas brutally kill Pandemonium, then laugh as if it were nothing, left Fabio horrified. His mind refused to believe it, but the searing pain in his left eye, the blood soaking into Athanas’s breastplate, and the reliquary holding his own severed eye refused to let him deny it any longer.

The Papabio incident wasn’t just a nightmare. It was real.

And then Athanas murmurs, almost absentmindedly, “Next time, I won’t let any harm come to me.”

Fabio finally understood then.

Athanas has Retrograde.

Even After Understanding the Truth, Fabio Remains Shaken by the Pain in His Left Eye

If the pain means love, then—

Does that mean he still loves Athanas?

Even after everything he’s done?

The very thought shakes him.

And then Athanas activates Retrograde.