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

#174Reader Mode

T/N: Praise be! A holy offering has been made! Thank you so much for the coffee AbigailReed! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

#174

[You fall in love with “アタナスあなたがすきです.” Nothing else matters anymore.]

[You fall in love with “アタナスあなたがすきです.” Nothing else matters anymore.]

[You fall in love with “アタナスあなたがすきです.” Nothing else matters anymore.]

[You fall in love with “アタナスあなたがすきです.” Nothing else matters anymore.]

[You fall in love with “アタナスあなたがすきです.” Nothing else matters anymore.]

[SYSTEM: Due to the effect of ‘Heaven Above, Earth Below, I Alone Reign Supreme,’ the ‘Distortion’ is displayed as text.]

The first thing I saw was a system window.

What the hell?

That shouldn’t be possible, but there it was, hovering in my vision. Something was off, though. I should’ve been screaming my head off, but there was no pain. Just a sharp, metallic tang flooding my mouth, like a handful of copper pennies melting on my tongue.

Oh no. No, no, no.

I tried to spit, to sit up, to heave—anything to get the wrongness out. But my body was a lead weight, pinned down. And not just by its own uselessness. There was a crushing pressure on my chest. Someone was draped over me, their breath stuttering, hot and shaky, against my throat.

Then came the sound… a soft, broken sobbing right next to my ear.

“Hyuung…”

You have got to be kidding me. This asshole.

That voice. Of course it was him. The psycho had laid on top of me like I was his personal goddamn body pillow. As the weight finally started to lift, he managed to choke out his apology.

“I’m s-sorry, hyung… hic… I didn’t mean to… I-I just… I’m so…”

His words devolved into a mess of slobbery, incoherent sobs. Full-on ugly crying. I felt a tear—and something thicker, slimier—drip onto my cheek.

Classic. Straight out of the Distorted One’s manipulation playbook. Beat someone half to death, then throw yourself over the body like some kind of grieving saint to try and guilt-trip them into forgiveness. If I wasn’t so busy choking on my own rage, I might’ve actually laughed.

Too late for regrets, you brainless piece of shit.

I mean, what kind of moron grabs someone with reality-distorting powers and smashes their head into a wall without even double-checking who it is first?

And that’s when the memory sliced through the haze. The crushing pressure against my skull. A sharp, wet burst.

My eye…

Shit.

The realization hit me harder than the wall itself. I clenched my jaw so hard it ached, trying to swallow the scream clawing its way up my throat.

It can be healed.

I clung to that thought, forcing it through the panic. It’s just damage. It can be fixed. Casimir replaced both her eyes, and she’s fine. I’ll be fine.

It was just a status effect. A debuff. That’s all. Nothing more.

My eyelids felt like they’d been welded shut, but I managed to peel them open. Sheer spite is a hell of a motivator.

Am I… actually still alive?

The world was a mess of blurry shapes, with dim light filtering through… cloth. A bandage. Something coarse and damp was pressed over my eyes, wrapped tight around my head. The air was thick with the smell of blood, but it was mixed with something else, something sickly sweet.

Poppies.

So I’m not completely blind, I guess.

I had to see. My hand shot up to tear the thing off, but a hand caught my wrist before I could. The grip wasn’t harsh, though. The fingers holding me were trembling, almost careful.

“D-don’t touch it,” Pandomonium begged, voice thick with tears. “The bleeding finally stopped, okay? Just… please don’t.”

That pathetic, sniveling sound was all it took. The sound of him crying lit a fuse in my chest.

I snapped.

“Why the fuck are you crying when you’re the one who did this?!”

“I know, hyung, I’m sorry… I’m so, so sorry—hic—I screwed up. I really, really mean it…”

“Then get the hell off me.”

I went for his hair, grabbing a fistful of that stupid blue mop and yanking with what little strength I had left. Nothing. It was like trying to rip a wig off a damn statue. When that failed, I just started swinging—wild, clumsy punches that barely made a sound against his back. It was like trying to beat up a mountain.

This thick-skulled bastard.

Pandomonium didn’t even flinch. Just absorbed every hit like he was made of memory foam, and the fact that he just took it only made me angrier. He knew exactly what he was doing: letting me burn myself out, letting me feel just how pathetic I was against him.

“Hyung, please stop,” he sobbed, his voice muffled against my chest. “Your hands… you’re going to break your own hands if you keep hitting me. I’m serious.”

“Good! Maybe then you’ll actually feel something! Or better yet, drop your damn durability and fight me like a real man.”

“Do you want to stab me? I can get you a knife.”

I let out a bitter, ugly laugh. “As if a regular blade would even leave a scratch.”

My durability was 25. His was over 700.

The universe really had a sick sense of humor.

“…I can help,” he whispered, his voice disturbingly eager. “I’ll put my hand over yours. We can hold the knife together.”

“And where, exactly, am I supposed to stab you?”

“Doesn’t matter. Anywhere. Eyes, heart… whatever would make you feel better.”

“But you’d just heal. You have that regeneration trait, don’t you?”

“…Yeah.”

“Then what the hell is the point?!”

“If it gives you some relief… if it helps, even for a second…”

Goddamn it. It was like he’d burned my whole world to the ground and was now handing me a sheet of bubble wrap, asking if popping a few bubbles made me feel calmer. As if that could undo any of this.

I pulled my fist back to swing again, but his hand—huge and impossibly gentle—closed around mine.

“No, hyung. Not with your bare hands. You can’t. You won’t even feel the bones break. Please. I’ll do anything. You want me to smash my own head into the wall? Would that help?”

I froze, my own hand going limp in his grip.

My mind snagged on that one, horrifying line.

“…What did you just say? I won’t feel my bones break?”

The blood drained from my face as it all came together. The lack of pain. The sweet, cloying taste of poppies mixed with blood.

The horror hit me like a physical blow.

“What the hell did you feed me?”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. He wouldn’t even look at me, just stared at the blood on the floorboards as if the answers were written there. “I messed up. I really, really messed up.”

“You idiot!” The rage I’d been choking on finally boiled over. “You let that psycho nearly distort you into a full-blown Game Over, and the first thing you do when you wake up is feed me the cursed shit he left behind? A ‘gift’ from Athanasuki? Are you out of your fucking mind?!”

“But you were in so much pain…”

“Fuck the pain!”

If stupidity was a disease, this moron would’ve caused a global extinction event by now.

“Did the God of War bless you with a lobotomy? Did all your points go into strength and leave nothing for that cement block you call a skull?”

Panic started to creep in, twisting with the rage like a knot in my chest.

“What if I’m addicted to this stuff now? What if it’s permanent? My mental defense doesn’t work against poison, you absolute idiot! What the hell were you thinking?!”

“I…”

“You what? Spit it out.”

“I’ll… I’ll figure it out. I can fix this.”

“Oh, you’ll ‘fix it’?” I shot back, the words dripping with disbelief. “And how, exactly, are you gonna do that?”

What’s your brilliant plan? Kill me and farm enough points to bring me back?

The thought was so stupid it almost gave me whiplash.

“I have… a plan.”

“Oh, this I’ve got to hear.”

The worst part was the pathetic flicker of hope in his voice. Like he actually believed the bullshit he was about to spew.

“…If you call out to the God of War and sincerely apologize, He’ll accept you as a servant.”

I just stared. The words were so monumentally stupid that my brain refused to process them. It took a solid five seconds for the sheer idiocy to finally connect.

And then the rage came roaring back.

“Fuck you.”

I mean, what was I even expecting? An actual solution from this walking catastrophe?

“Hey,” I said, my voice dropping low and dangerous. “Do me a favor. Shut your mouth, go find the nearest wall, and start bashing your head against it until you hear a crack. Got it?”

Every word out of his mouth was like throwing gasoline on a fire. The guy had an honest-to-god talent for making everything worse.

“Just listen, hyung! The God of War promised! If you become His servant, you get the Blessing of Restoration. You’re seriously hurt—this could fix everything! Look, just watch—”

He cut himself off. There was a dull, wet thud, and then something warm splattered across my face.

“See? Good as new! Can you see now?”

“I can’t see because you partially blinded me, you fucking moron!”

“…Oh.”

Seriously, did the God of War fry whatever brain cells he had left? Nerf his intelligence into oblivion?

“Here,” Pandomonium said, grabbing my hand and pushing it against his arm. The skin was unnervingly smooth. “Feel that. I just ripped my own arm clean off and stuck it back on. Not a scar. Nothing. That’s the kind of regeneration you’d get. You could have your real arm back, not that… that maggot-infested thing. Your durability would be in the triple digits.”

I yanked my hand back. “So that’s his master plan? Just hand out cheat codes? Troll-tier regen in the name of ‘honor’? Get real.”

The disgust was so thick I could taste it.

“The God of War isn’t a warrior,” I snarled. “He’s a coward.” He was just some brat playing with god mode on, throwing invincible units at every duel and then acting like he’d earned the win.

“Honestly? He’s the perfect god for a spineless bastard like you. You two were made for each other. Birds of a feather and all that.”

“…Hyung.”

“And you have the nerve to call yourself a strategy gamer? What’s the Intelligence stat on that unit you’re piloting, negative five? Has it completely fried your brain? For fuck’s sake, try using the one brain cell you have left! You want me to trust the same god who let the Distorted One play him like a damn fiddle?”

“…Then who am I supposed to trust?”

“Start with literally anyone who isn’t a complete and utter idiot.”

“Hyung, please. Just one word. Say you’re sorry to Him, and this is all over. You’ll be healed. You don’t have to trust the God of War, just trust me. You said I was the only one you could trust…”

“That was before you gouged my eye out, you lunatic! You’re just as crazy as the rest of them now. In fact, you’re the least trustworthy person in this room.”

“…Really?”

“Yes.”

Don’t even try to pull the ‘I’m not crazy’ card. It’s the first thing every psycho says.

“Then… can’t you just fix me, hyung?”

“What?”

“If I’m crazy, then I don’t know what normal is anymore. So you decide for me. Be my compass. Tell me what to think, what to feel… what to be.” His voice dropped to a desperate, sniffling whisper. “I’ll follow every word. Tell me to die, and I’ll do it without a second thought. Use a skill, brainwash me, rewrite my entire mind—I don’t care. Just stay alive. Just… don’t leave me…”

“Get the fuck off me!” I snarled, shoving at him, sick of the pathetic whimpering. “I told you to think for yourself! Stop trying to outsource all your problems to me like I’m supposed to clean up your mess! Use your own goddamn brain for once. Take some responsibility. You don’t get to make me your conscience just because you’re too much of a coward to have one yourself.”

“If my thoughts are crazy, then everything I do is crazy, too. Hyung… I can’t make a mistake like that again. I’m terrified. Do you have any idea what it felt like? The second I snapped out of it and saw you… saw what I’d done? I tried to scream, and I couldn’t even breathe.”

And that was supposed to be my problem, how?

You’re the one who did this. You walked right into Athanasuki’s trap, even when you knew what it was. You didn’t even try to fight it. You just handed the Distorted One exactly what it wanted on a silver platter.

A flicker of an idea cut through the rage.

“So. You’ll do anything I tell you?”

“…Yes.”

“Then go get Callister. Bring him here. He can use the Blessing of Healing on me.”

“Callister?”

“The swarm-based person that looks like me. My Servant. You met him at the bell tower.”

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating.

“…I’m sorry.”

A cold, sick dread began to coil in my gut.

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “Just tell me what you did to him.”

“I… destroyed it.”

“Define ‘destroyed.’”

“It… it can’t take your form anymore.”

Fuck.

It was a goddamn freefall, one catastrophic screw-up after another with no bottom in sight.

It was almost impressive, how thoroughly one person could fuck everything up.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” I hissed through clenched teeth.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, hyung. I messed up—”

“Shut up! Stop your goddamn crying. You’re probably giving the Distorted One the best show It’s had all year.”

Naturally, that just made him sob harder.

Some stupid, automatic reflex made me reach for him, but my fingers brushed against something warm and wet on his face. I yanked my hand back like I’d been burned.

“Ugh. Disgusting.”

“Hyung… I really… hic…”

Wait a second. My left arm… it felt fine. Callister. He had to be alive. He wasn’t a blubbering idiot like this one; he would’ve played dead, waited for his moment, and vanished. And with the Bell Keeper showing up right after, Pandomonium wouldn’t have had time to do any real damage. He got away.

But there was no way he’d ever trust Pandemonium enough to come back here with him. Not now.

I let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. I’ll get him myself.”

“In your condition? No way!” His voice shot up in panic. “That opium is the only thing holding you together, hyung! You’re seriously hurt! You could bleed out before you even get to the tower!”

“And whose fault is that?” I deadpanned. “Besides, didn’t you just finish promising to do whatever I said? Or did that part of your brain get scrambled, too?”

“Please, hyung. Just say the word. For me…”

“Fuck off. I’d rather kill myself and start over with a new body from Mother Aelusia than ever bend the knee to your precious God of War.”

The air went dead still. He wasn’t even breathing.

“…You don’t mean that.”

“I’ve never meant anything more in my life,” I said coldly. “The thought of siding with Mother Aelusia, of finally getting the power to burn both the God of War and the Distorted One to ash? Right now, that sounds like heaven.”

“Hyung…”

[SYSTEM: Due to the effect of ‘Heaven Above, Earth Below, I Alone Reign Supreme,’ you do not feel any killing intent.]

Shit. This psycho.

“T-that’s a joke, right? It has to be a joke, hyung. Please don’t say things like that. I can’t… I can’t handle it. You have no idea what I went through to—”

“To what?” I cut in, my voice like ice. “You said you’d obey me. Or was that just another lie?”

“Hyung, I begged him!” he choked out. “I got on my hands and knees and begged the God of War to give you a deal! An easy way out. That’s all I asked for. Do you have any idea what He wanted to do to you at first?”

Pandomonium’s voice trembled, dropping to a horrified whisper.

“He wanted you humiliated. Broken. After making you His servant, He was going to torture you. Strip you of everything, piece by piece, and force you to crawl and sob and regret every word you ever said against Him. Only then, after you were nothing, would He grant His ‘forgiveness.’”

“And after hearing that, you still thought making me His servant was the better option?”

“It’s better than watching you die…”

No. Death would be a thousand times better. The thought wasn’t even a debate; it was a fact, solid as ice in my chest.

Then an invisible weight pressed down on me, pinning me flat.

“Open your mouth, hyung.”

Something cold and metallic pressed against my lips—a cup. The reek of fresh blood hit me, and my stomach churned. This bastard was trying to force-feed me his own blood.

I thrashed, but it was like fighting a landslide. Pandomonium’s strength was absolute. A hand pried my jaw open. The cup tilted.

Drink or drown.

My body screamed to swallow. My mind screamed no.

I choked, gagging as the vile, hot copper slid down my throat like sludge.

“Hyung, now you just have to say one phrase…”

“…Never.”

“Please…”

You could put a gun to my head right now, and you still wouldn’t get that apology. You could kill me, and my ghost would still tell you to fuck off.

And just like that, everything clicked into place.

He needed me conscious for this ritual. He needed my consent. Without it, the whole thing was useless.

I finally had a weapon.

“Oh wow,” I managed, a weak, bloody grin tugging at my lips. “Health bar’s in the red. I think I’m actually dying.”

The whole situation was so thoroughly fucked up it had looped right back around to being hilarious.

“Drugging me was monumentally stupid,” I continued, my voice thin and reedy. “But hey, I learned something. I always thought I was afraid of dying. Turns out, it was just the pain. But now?” I let my eyelids flutter, my gaze going hazy. “Now that I can’t feel anything… it’s almost peaceful. I’m not scared anymore.”

I let my eyes drift shut. “Anyway. See you later, asshole.”

“NO! Hyung, you can’t die!” His panic was a physical thing, crashing over me as his arms wrapped around my chest. “Don’t leave me! Please, don’t leave me alone!”

“Too late,” I wheezed, letting my head loll to the side for effect. “Just sit here with my corpse and keep racking up those Disappointment Points for your buddy, the Distorted One.”

“This isn’t funny, hyung! Stop messing around!”

“Who’s messing around? I’m dead serious.”

I threw in one last, gurgling cough, letting a trickle of his blood run from the corner of my mouth.

Shit, this is actually a little too convincing.

“Why?!” he sobbed into my chest, his entire body shaking with the force of it. “Why are you doing this?! It’s my fault! Hyung, I’ll do anything! Anything you want, just please don’t die!”

I cracked one eye open. My voice, when I spoke, was perfectly clear. Razor-sharp.

“Then stop being an annoying fucking moron to the very end and listen to me. I never said I wanted to die. I said we’re going to the bell tower. You gave me your word, remember? That you’d do whatever I said. And yet here you are, still groveling to some brain-dead god who can’t even play his own game without cheat codes.”

“I—I’ll stop. I promise. We’ll go right now, whatever you want. I’m so sorry. Just… just please be okay.”

I watched him babble, clinging to that pathetic little scrap of hope. I let him have it for a second. Let it bloom.

Then I crushed it.

“No. It’s too late.”

And this time, it wasn’t a bluff. The bluff was over. A deep, creeping cold was spreading through my limbs, the kind that had nothing to do with the stone floor. It was the cold of a body that was finally, truly giving up.

“Pandomonium.”

I tore the cloth from my eyes. His face was the first thing I saw. A tear-streaked, snot-covered mess.

I instantly regretted it. Pathetic.

“You asked me who you could trust. Besides the God of War.”

“Hyung…”

“Trust me.”

If gods could draw power from their subordinate deities, maybe the same logic applied to servants. It was a desperate, insane shot in the dark. But it was all I had left.

“Forget the God of War. Forget all of them,” I commanded, my voice gaining a strange, new strength. “Worship me.”

I jammed the blood-soaked bandage straight into his gaping, sobbing mouth.

“If that’s not enough,” I growled, feeling a flicker of real power jolt back into me, “then get on your goddamn knees and lick my blood off the floor.”

“Swear it. Swear an oath to believe in no god but Fabio. Eat my flesh. Drink my blood. Become my servant.”