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

#190Reader Mode

#190

“I could tell you. But what good would that information do you right now?”

“……”

I forced myself breathe.

House Lizard had a point. Say I learned Oblivion’s true name this second, then what? What exactly was I going to do with it?

Try persuading Oblivion into teaming up? That was a joke.

And even if I somehow got Oblivion under my control, I’d still need to get back my mental defense relic.

No… not a relic.

My fingers grazed the edge of my left eye. I needed to get back a piece of myself.

…Why did Athanas take my eye?

The records from the basement had the answer, I was sure of it. But I couldn’t bring myself look. It wasn’t about physical pain; I wouldn’t feel that anyway. It was my stomach turning at what came after. If the aftermath looked that bad, I really didn’t want to see how it happened.

Did Pandomonium really commit a sin bad enough to deserve a death like that?

Now that I actually thought about it… yeah. Yeah, he had plenty to answer for.

To begin with, “Marcello Teres” had taken countless lives on the battlefield.

Technically, that alone wouldn’t make him a heretic. War, in and of itself, isn’t considered a breach of Order. The Church of Order tends to overlook the violence, so long as the old laws are honored: declare war properly, don’t kill those who take shelter in a chapel, don’t poison the water supply. Basic formalities.

But Pandomonium hadn’t killed for conquest.

He wasn’t chasing victory or defending territory. The slaughter had one purpose—to serve a god that didn’t belong to this world. The God of War. An Othergod, beyond the reach of Order. Every life lost was an offering.

More than enough reason for condemnation.

“Athanas has already explained his reasons to you.”

“…Show me.”

I picked up the next paper. Reality lurched. My vision got dragged back into the memory, and the stone floor in front of me was slick with red all over again.

But this blood…

「“Athanas!”」

Athanas could barely stand. His face was twisted in pain, his left arm gone—blood pumping from the stump in thick, violent spurts.

「“…The duel isn’t over. Stay back, Fabio.”

“Not over?! Take a look at yourself—you’re done!”

“No. A duel ends in one of two ways. Yield… or die.”」

Pandomonium stood opposite him, blood spattered across his face, lips twisted into that same lopsided smirk. Cocky as always.

Just seeing at that damn smirk again makes me want to throw up.

「“Athanas!!”」

‘I’ shouted his name again. Athanas turned to look at me—really looked—and after a long pause, said softly:

「”…I yield.”

“Tch. What a letdown. You just had to spoil the fun.”」

Pandomonium let out a disgusted scoff and tossed his sword aside.

In the memory, ‘I’ ripped a belt off some stunned bystander without hesitation. Looped it around Athanas’s stump, wrenched it tight, kept cranking until the bleeding slowed. That was the only thing that mattered right then.

「”Hey, Fabio. Don’t give him all the attention. I got hurt too, see?”

“Piss off, that’s not even a real wound! You’re whining about a nick on your forehead while he’s over here bleeding to death?”

“…Back in my territory, someone who spoke to me like that would find themselves stripped naked and hanging from the rafters.”

“Yeah? Well, does this look like your territory, asshole?!”」

‘I’ was trying desperately to remember the limits of the human body. How much blood can you lose before it’s fatal?

A liter was supposed to be survivable, wasn’t it?

How much had already pooled on the floor? It looked like way more than a knocked-over milk carton….

「”I’m saying this for your own good, since you’ll be coming back with me soon enough. Obviously I wouldn’t really hang you, Fabio. But keep mouthing off like that and I lose face. People are gonna start asking questions about what kind of upbringing my wife got.”

“The hell are you talking about?”

“Oh, that’s right. You didn’t catch the terms of the duel, did you? The loser swore to stay away from you for good.”

“…Athanas. Why did you do something so reckless? You didn’t even bother asking me what was going on. You just dove headfirst into a duel!”

“Oi, Fabio. Are you really gonna stand there and ignore me?”」

If Athanas had just talked to me first, none of this bloodshed would’ve happened. He wasn’t squaring off against some random player—he was facing the contractor of the God of War. A fight he had zero chance of winning against that bastard and his built-in cheats.

「”…If I’d asked you, you would’ve told me not to fight. Regardless of the reason.”

“Well….”

“You would’ve said I wasn’t strong enough. That I had no chance of winning. You would’ve told me to stay away from him no matter what. Even if he was the one who started this ridiculous fight. Even if he demanded that I give you up… you would’ve told me to swallow my pride and walk away. Just to stay alive.”

“…Hey. I never said any of that.”

“But I couldn’t just hear that and do nothing.”

“Athanas….”」

‘I’ stood there baffled, unable to make sense of what Athanas was getting at. Before I could pin down why those words left me feeling so uneasy, Athanas cupped my cheek with his remaining hand.

「”I haven’t given this my all yet, Fabio.”

“What? So you’re claiming you held back? That’s your excuse for losing an arm? It only happened because you got careless? God, that’s pathetic.”

“I showed you a shameful sight today. Next time, I will make sure you see something better.”

…Next time?」

The instant that thought flickered through ‘my’ mind, the memory went dark. The record just… stopped.

…So what was the real reason you took that duel?

Pride? Were you mad because I called your loss before it happened? Desperate to prove you could come out on top?

Or did you just see Pandomonium as some future mid-boss and figure you’d study his attack patterns while you had the chance?

It hit me all over again just how broken and unfair Retrograde really was.

Every loss gets wiped clean like it never existed. Lose a thousand times, who cares? Win once, and that’s the only outcome that matters.

But how did Athanas eventually manage to win?

‘I’ showed up too late to catch the fight, so I had no idea what went down. Pandomonium has a regeneration trait. You don’t beat a tank like that with swordsmanship alone.

Did Athanas raid the warehouse? Spam every holy relic he’d looted?

That would make sense, actually. If you can turn back time, the theft never technically occurred. All of the utility, none of the consequences.

…I’m slipping back into player logic again.

Was that just what happened when you had Retrograde? Or was this my doing? Did I break something in Athanas when I used Forced Persuasion?

If Athanas ended up like this because of me….

“…I think I’m gonna be sick. Can I get some water?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks.”

I took the glass and downed it in one go. The water was cool and unexpectedly sweet. But there was something else… an odd, oily aftertaste that clung to the back of my throat.

Just hard water, maybe?

“How is it? Not unpleasant, I hope?”

“…The fact that you’re asking makes me incredibly nervous.”

“Oh dear. I only wanted to make sure you were satisfied with the service. After all, I exist to assist you, Fabio.”

I didn’t answer. Just kept staring at House Lizard.

Something felt… off.

Very off.

“Has the nausea passed?”

“…Yeah.”

“If I may offer a word of caution—your skill, Forced Persuasion, doesn’t last long. Think of it like peer pressure in the moment. You say yes because someone pushed you into it, but by the next morning, you’re wondering what you were thinking. That’s the limit of your influence. Once they’re alone, once they start thinking clearly, it fades.”

“…Then why is Athanas still going along with it?”

“Because deep down, he agrees with you. He believes the user of Retrograde has a responsibility to be flawless. Even without your influence, he would’ve come to that conclusion on his own. Isn’t that the very mindset that leads him to become the Heretic Slayer?

“But notice how he ignores your warnings to keep his power hidden. Why do you think that is? Because somewhere inside, he doesn’t agree with you. He thinks you’re wrong. And by the next day, your frantic advice is already slipping from his mind.”

“So… I’m just supposed to keep using Forced Persuasion? Again and again?”

“Correct. Tell me, Fabio, why do you think you feel so nauseous right now? Did you really think you could erase your emotions without consequence?”

My gaze dropped to the scroll.

I froze.

The command I’d written—All emotions toward Athanas disappear—was fading, the ink bleeding away as if the page itself was rejecting it.

No.

I grabbed the pen and rewrote it. Once. Twice. Again.

But the words wouldn’t hold. They kept slipping, vanishing before my eyes.

No—no, no, no—

House Lizard tsked softly.

“At this rate, it’s only a matter of time.”

A low, dark chuckle sounded just beside me.

“Shall I assist you, Fabio?”

House Lizard placed it’s hand gently over mine, steadying my trembling fingers.

“If you truly want to separate yourself from your emotions, there’s a method far more efficient than Forced Persuasion.”

“…What is it?”

“You build a containment space. A mental quarantine. Somewhere your conscious mind can’t reach. Then you discard everything that burdens you—fear, shame, grief. Just isolate it. Keep it separate. Why carry it when you can expel it from your awareness?”

“But that doesn’t mean those feelings are actually gone.”

“Perhaps not. But we send our garbage to landfills, don’t we? The waste still exists somewhere, but your living space stays clean. Isn’t that what matters? As long as those emotions remain outside your awareness, they have no power over you.”

I swallowed hard. That feeling of wrongness wasn’t subtle anymore. It was screaming in my head, sirens blaring in every direction.

Who… am I really talking to?

“…Isn’t that just an elaborate way of describing dissociative identity disorder?”

“Not quite. When the mind fractures to protect itself, we call it illness. But when it’s for survival, we call it adaptation.”

I tried to pull my hand away, but something cold and corpse-pale seized it, pressing down hard. My fingers moved against my will, dragging the pen across the scroll again and again.

All emotions toward Athanas disappear.
All emotions toward Athanas disappear.
All emotions toward Athanas disappear…

I stared at the words repeating across the page. The handwriting was terrifyingly familiar.

“…Who are you?”

“What an odd question. We’ve been speaking this whole time, haven’t we?”

“You’re not House Lizard.”

“Well, to be fair, I always thought ‘House Lizard’ was a poor translation of Domestic Reptilian.”

“Stop dodging the question. Who are you really?”

“If you’re asking for names, shouldn’t you offer yours first? Tell me, Fabio, do you even know who you are? Try defining yourself before asking me to do the same.”

…I need to shut it out. Can’t let it manipulate me.

I didn’t need to figure out what it really was. I just needed to give it a label. Any label. Make it small. Insignificant. Something I could ignore until it disappeared on its own.

“You’re just an inkblot.”

“If that helps. The Earth is a pale blue dot, after all—and humans are nothing more than smudges on its surface, lingering briefly before they’re wiped away. In that sense, yes, I’m a blot. As are you, Fabio.”

“No. You’re not me.”

“How amusing. Then tell me, who is the ‘real’ you? The fool who loves Athanas? Or the homophobe so terrified by that love that he’s trying to remove it as if it were a sickness?”

“I’m—”

“Ah, my bad. I misspoke. You’re the sane one, obviously. It’s everyone else who are sick. But honestly? I’m curious. Do you really mean to define a fundamental part of your essence as nothing more than a status condition to be cured?”

I yanked my hand back with a violent shudder.

“You’re not Fabio.”

“…Then I am Not-Fabio. Yeah. I guess that’s the most fitting name.”

I turned my head slowly.

The thing beside me didn’t look like House Lizard anymore.

From the empty socket where its left eye should’ve been, thick black liquid dripped like tears.

…Exactly what Pandomonium was afraid of seeing.

Every detail matched. It even had only one arm.

“But I can help. I’ll sit here in your place and keep writing that sentence for you. That way, you’ll always be able to think clearly. Rationally. Without interference of emotions.”

“…I don’t need your help.”

“Fabio.”

Its expression warped. It wasn’t anger; it was a look of profound, crushing pity.

Yeah. No. Not falling for that.

“I said I’ll handle it myself.”

I snapped the quill-pen in half. The moment I did, the thing vanished—dispersing like smoke in the air. A second later, a horrible bitterness exploded across my tongue. Like I’d bitten into metal or licked the dust off an old game cartridge.

I doubled over, gagging. My throat clenched, and for a moment I couldn’t breathe.

Then a voice, far too close, spoke near my ear.

“Are you alright?”

“Shit! Don’t do that!”

I spun around, heart pounding. House Lizard stood there again, face back to normal, observing me with impassive eyes.

My pulse was still racing as I narrowed my eyes at it, studying every detail of the thing wearing ‘Francesco’s’ face.

“…Are you really House Lizard?”

“If that is the name you prefer, then yes. I am the real House Lizard. Would you like to call me something else?”

“…Name the person who invented punch cards.”

“Herman Hollerith, a German statistician, developed them for use in computing.”

Alright. Definitely House Lizard.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

“…What the hell just happened?”

“For a god, changing one’s essence is akin to dying. More precisely, the god that once existed ceases to be, and a new one is born in its place. Similar in form, but not in essence. You were standing right at that threshold.”

“…So I almost died?”

All because I tried to cut out a few emotions?

That can’t be right. My nature is supposed to be rational overall. The one that treats love as a status effect. Since when was that not who I am?

“Wait. So what now? I’m just supposed to live with these feelings?”

“Or you could choose rebirth. It’s a clean process. Practically seamless. You’d hardly notice the shift. You’d simply forget that you killed your former self to take its place.”

“…Have I died before?”

House Lizard didn’t answer. It only smiled.