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

#156Reader Mode

#156

“But… if there’s a victim, doesn’t that mean someone must be the perpetrator? Whoever committed the crime surely bears the heavier sin. So why weren’t they punished?”

“Because they were granted immunity—a privilege given to those who pledged allegiance to Order first. The law states, ‘Within Ophea’s sanctuary, only the head of House Ophea may judge conflicts among those who believe in Ophea in the family.’ As long as that law stands, internal matters remain beyond outside judgment.”

What absolute bullshit.

So then who the hell is responsible for judging crimes committed by the family head? You’d think if the Church of Order actually cared, they would’ve at least pretended to address this obvious loophole.

“Wasn’t there another option though?” I insisted, my brain searching through possibilities. “If Perpetua had become a priest…”

The heir of House Teres had managed to get ordained without their family’s approval. Pepa could have done the same, right? If she had, their shitty immunity clause wouldn’t have applied, and they couldn’t have touched her.

The Saint’s voice softened with gentle curiosity. “Are you speculating about what might have happened if she entered the priesthood?”

…Seriously? Does it look like I’m asking out of idle curiosity?

I’m clearly pointing out that nobody even considered this alternative.

“You see, those with divine bloodlines face a critical choice when they’re ordained. They can either live in a secluded convent until time naturally ends their fertility… or undergo a procedure to permanently sterilize themselves. Most—about eight out of ten—choose the first option.”

What the hell is he talking about?

“But convent life didn’t suit her…” the Saint continued, his voice tinged with subtle regret. “She never really understood Order’s true essence. She always felt like an outsider, resisting its teachings at every turn. Even when she rose to become abbess, temptation proved too strong, luring her astray time and time again. In the end, she never found her way to the Realm of Order, not even after death.”¹T/N: An Abbess is the female leader of a convent or religious community of nuns. She is responsible for overseeing the daily activities and spiritual guidance of the nuns, much like an Abbot is the leader of a monastery for monks.

He sounds like he’s seen it all happen … like Perpetua was just a damn save file in Princess Maker he kept replaying to see every possible ending.²T/N: Princess Maker is a life simulation game where you raise a young girl and help her grow up into an adult. You play as her guardian (usually a retired hero or noble), and you make choices about her daily life, like studying, working part-time jobs, or going on adventures. Your decisions affect her stats (like strength, intelligence, charm), personality, and relationships, which all influence what kind of person she becomes—like a knight, scholar, queen, or even a criminal. The game has many possible endings depending on how you raised her.

“As for the second option… well, let’s just say it often led to even more tragic ends. I’d rather not dwell on those dark details.”

“You talk like you saw all this firsthand.”

“No, not firsthand. I only know what I’ve read.”

“Read?”

“Yes. Back when Records still served Order, I studied every record I could find that mentioned her.”

Records?

That word triggered something in my memory.

I remembered Records once explaining that as Their domain grew, They gained access to things that had disappeared—even records of futures that hadn’t happened yet. Something about layers of time stacked on top of each other in the Dark Realm…

So that explains it…

It all clicked into place. He claimed it was a blessing, not a punishment?

If Perpetua had stayed true to her faith until death, she would’ve been celebrated as a martyr.

And martyrs score pretty high.

High enough to cancel out minor sins and get a direct ticket to heaven.

So that’s why he did it. If he knew this was the only way for Perpetua to reach the Realm of Order…

Fuck.

The realization made my stomach twist with disgust, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

Why couldn’t the gods just reset someone’s slate when they became an Apostle?

It would’ve been better if the Saint had lost every trace of his humanity when he took on his new role.

Then Perpetua could’ve believed that “Hyung Pell” simply died when he became an Apostle, and that Roklem was just some new entity inhabiting the empty shell he left behind.

But the Saint never stopped caring about his “cute little Pepa.”

If anything…

He abused his authority as an Apostle just to find her a loophole to escape damnation.

He didn’t abandon the little sister who begged him for help.

This was simply his twisted version of “saving” her.

“You don’t look well,” the Saint said, concerned.

“…I’m fine.”

Honestly, I couldn’t care less about the Saint and Pepa’s tragic story. Perpetua was just a stranger to me, and now she was dead.

What did her story have to do with my life anyway?

No, the real reason my insides were twisting themselves into knots was something else entirely.

Pandemonium…

Would that bastard face the same fate once he makes his contract?

Would he keep all his memories, all his emotions, even as he transformed into something no longer human in any meaningful way?

“Have you had a chance to eat yet? If not, you’re more than welcome to join me.”

“…I’m good,” I said, shaking my head slightly.

If I eat now, I’ll probably throw up right here.

“I’m just… not really in the mood right now.”

The Saint’s demeanor shifted. “You know, Fabio, in the Realm of Order, dying from not eating is considered an act of suicide.”

I stared at him, sure I must have misheard.

“Pardon?”

What the hell is he talking about?

“Then—”

“Perpetua essentially took her own life.”

He said this with a smile, his peaceful expression completely at odds with the weight of his words.

…Did he seriously just smile while saying that? I wondered, feeling a chill down my spine.

Is he some kind of psychopath?

Maybe I’d been wrong about his motives. Perhaps he hadn’t blessed her with deathlessness out of love after all. No… it seemed more likely that he’d lost his humanity when he became an Apostle.

As if reading my thoughts, the Saint tilted his head, his gaze searching my face. “Are you wondering why I allowed her to die in such a manner?”

No, I wanted to say, I don’t want to know. I’d rather stay ignorant.

But before I could even shake my head, the Saint reached out, grabbing my chin and forcing me to meet his eyes.

“I was waiting for her to take her final breath so I could render judgment. Even if she were to fall into hell, being in Order’s embrace is still better than wandering the empty void alone.”

…Fucking lunatic, I thought, my jaw tight as I fought to keep my face neutral.

When Pepa’s memories of the Saint were erased, he should have let her go and forgotten her too. Someone needed to cast Oblivion on this crazy bastard, and fast.

“But her soul… it was nowhere to be found.”

Yeah, well, I’d escape this fucked-up Dark Realm too if I could.

“And that’s why I wanted to ask you.”

Cold sweat broke out across my skin as my fingers fidgeted nervously. “…Even if you ask me, I don’t know anything.”

“I know. You won’t be able to answer. But the One watching you will hear my question.”

Happy God? Doubt it.

That asshole probably doesn’t even realize the game has started. He’s likely AFK. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have abandoned me in this mess.

“Fabio, I will find Perpetua,” the Saint declared, his gaze boring into me.

“…Okay…”

“If someone devoured her whole, I’ll rip open their guts if I must.”

…Guts?

It was supposed to sound terrifying, but all I could think was: Guts? Really?

Do Othergods even have guts?

That has to be metaphorical, right?

We still don’t know if an Othergod even has a physical form, and even if it did, it would be somewhere out in the vast emptiness of space.

So exactly how did the Saint plan to rip it open?

I mean, sure, technically the Heretic Slayer Athanas could potentially destroy an Othergod’s vessel and damage Their main body that way…

But that would require me to make a contract and grind an insane number of points until I could trigger Happy God’s full descent.

And even then, it’d be like an ant nibbling on a finger. Basically nothing to an Othergod.

Anyway.

Where would a soul taken by an Othergod even be right now?

In its stomach?

But the starry sky hasn’t opened yet. Is that even possible?

Then again, nothing about Perpetua falling into some blissful “Ultimate HappyHappy” state makes any sense either.

“Ultimate Happy-Happy” is a blessing, a divine power that only Happy God can give.

And besides me—the designated future contractor—who else could possibly grant that?

…Could this have been planned from the start?

Maybe before the game started, Happy God scraped together His few remaining points and wasted them on making Pepa all HappyHappy.

It’s exactly the kind of pointless, useless move He’d make—completely irrelevant to actual gameplay.

But for Happy God? That’s probably the entire plan.

He has no real goal other than to shower random people with HappyHappy blessings whenever He gets a few points.

“Fabio, there’s no need to dwell on what I just said. Just forget it.”

Bullshit.

Then why mention it at all?

This was more terrifying than when I thought they were going to execute me.

All I could do was keep my expression neutral.

The Saint slowly released my chin and whispered,

“If you ever need anything, just ask. I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

Yeah, right.

I just heard about a girl begging for her life only to end up worse than dead.

I wondered if the Saint had already reached the second stage of Madness.

“Fabio.”

Adna suddenly turned to me, interrupting my thoughts.

“There was a logical error in what you just said.”

“An error?”

“Simply saying you’re ‘not in the mood to eat’ doesn’t justify not eating.”

What?

“Even if someone doesn’t want to do something, they can still physically do it. You might not feel like eating, but you can still swallow food. Don’t you agree?”

“Well, yes, I guess so…”

“Obviously, forcing yourself to do something without motivation is difficult. But some things are necessary, and eating is one of them. Without food, people die.”

Okay, but… that’s just basic biology.

Adna continued with complete seriousness.

“If you’re struggling to manage on your own, I can help you.”

…Help? With eating?

“That sounds like an excellent idea!” the Saint added.

“W-Wait, what exactly do you mean by ‘help’?” I asked, immediately concerned.

“If your mind were susceptible to outside influence, I could have used the Blessing of Resonance to implant the feeling of ‘I’m hungry. I want to eat.’”

Isn’t that basically mind control and a total misuse of divine powers?

“But since that’s not possible, we’ll have to take a physical approach.”

“Physical…?”

“I’ll mince the food until it’s very fine, so you won’t need to chew. Then, I’ll place it directly at the back of your throat. All you need to do is swallow and repeat.”

…And what if I choke to death?

Adna reassured me, “I will continue to feed you this way until your appetite returns.”

“I think that method’s a bit—”

Just as I was about to object, Adna added:

“For context, this is how I ate when I had full-body burns.”

“Full-body burns?”

“Yes. The injuries prevented me from moving my jaw, making chewing impossible.”

“But what about the Blessing of Healing?”

“Oh, that was before I joined the Church of Order.”

…Wait. The Fifth Apostle used to be a heretic?

“See? No life experience is ever truly meaningless.”

Adna nodded solemnly, reaching into her robe. When she pulled out a dagger, the glint of steel made my stomach drop.

“W-Why do you need a knife?”

“A regular spoon isn’t effective for this feeding method,” she explained, staring at the blade. “The utensils I used during my recovery were destroyed in the fire, so I’ll carve a new one from memory. Please, bear with me for a moment.”

Oh shit, she’s not kidding.

“No really, it’s fine! A regular spoon works perfectly well!”

“It would be uncomfortable,” she countered, looking directly at me. “I’m just offering what I learned from experience.”

“I promise I can eat normally on my own!” I insisted. “Actually, thanks to your overwhelming concern, I suddenly feel incredibly hungry. Starving, even!”

“…Truly?”

“Absolutely! Who needs the Blessing of Resonance? Not me! Thanks to you, Apostle Adna, any thought of not wanting to eat has completely disappeared!”

Silence filled the room as Adna studied me, still holding the dagger. “Even so,” she finally said, “I shall make one, just in case.”

For fuck’s sake.

All I did was say I wasn’t in the mood to eat, and now she’s threatening to force-feed me for my own good.

Isn’t that just a fancy way of saying I’m not even allowed to die from skipping a meal?

This is absolutely terrifying.