Rise of the OtherGod Apostle: Not a Cult Leader, but a Serf?!
#197
T/N: Thanks Simi, Nikiara and Praxis for the coffee! ♡ ～(‘▽^人)
#197
The Curse of Nellos.
It had to be Players. Who else would use a curse so perfectly designed for this exact situation?
The Emergency Rescue System lets players roam freely while everyone else is incapacitated. It was a glaring oversight on my part. And now it was coming back to bite us.
So, what now? Do I try negotiating? Walk over there with my best smile and politely ask them to lift the Curse of Nellos? Maybe throw in a few concessions to sweeten the deal?
Yeah, no. Showing up to negotiate when you’re entirely clueless about the situation is practically begging to get exploited. The moment they realize how badly we need this curse gone, they’ll use that relic threaten us.
For now, I signaled to Callister and Pandomonium to stop what they were doing and join me.
After giving them a quick rundown of the mess we were in, Pandomonium, predictably, tossed out a solution with very little thought behind it.
“Why don’t we just track down whoever used the curse and beat the shit out of them?”
I exhaled slowly, trying to keep my irritation in check. “…And how, exactly, do you propose we find them?”
He shrugged like it was obvious. “We’ll figure it out on the way.”
Dear heavens above, think before you speak! The concept isn’t that complicated. Don’t just spit out some half-baked idea and then cobble together a plan later.
“I’m sure you’ll be incredibly effective in a fight,” I pointedly glanced at his ruined, useless hand.
“Don’t need my hand,” he grunted. “Got telekinesis.”
With a faint metallic rattle, his sword rose shakily from his side, hovering unsteadily in front of him like it was a drunk bird trying to take flight.
“Check it out!” Pandomonium puffed his chest, grinning. “The Legendary Sword Control Technique!”
I stared at it, unimpressed. “…Legendary, huh? It looks less like a sword and more like a stage prop being dangled on a string.”
It was about as intimidating as one, too. I flicked it with my finger, and the sword wobbled, rotating feebly in midair without an ounce of power behind it.
Yep. That’ll definitely scare someone. Honestly, he’d have better luck just throwing the damn thing. At least then there’d be a random chance it might land pointy-end first.
“Just… go get your hand healed first.”
The maggots Callister had been controlling earlier were currently being used to create “speakers,” meaning Pandomonium’s treatment had been put on hold. He had been adamant that his healing could wait. He argued that once the Divine Punishment was fully lifted, his “Restoration” trait would kick in and heal the damage anyway.
Sure, great plan—except for the part where we had unknown enemies out there, and I wasn’t about to send a one-handed swordsman into a fight. I needed him at full strength, no exceptions.
Pandomonium grumbled a few complaints but ultimately didn’t argue when I gave the order. Callister got to work, and within seconds, Pandomonium’s whining was back in full force.
“This is so gross. Ugh, I feel like I’m gonna puke.”
“Then stop staring at it.”
“I can still feel them moving around in there! It’s awful!”
“And? You’re fine. I had the same thing done. You’ll live.” I conveniently left out the little fact that I’d been unconscious during my own maggot-based surgery. No need to complicate things with unnecessary details.
As Pandomonium squirmed and whined, I took the chance to check my Status Window for any updates. I didn’t even get halfway through the thought before a big text box flashed in my vision, cutting through everything else.
[Oh, Great Lord Fabio!]
[SYSTEM: Due to the effect of ‘Heaven Above, Earth Below, I Alone Reign Supreme,’ the ‘prayer’ will be displayed as text.]
My heart nearly fell out of my chest. A prayer?
What the hell was this about? It wasn’t any of my Servants. I recognized their ‘voices’ by now. So who the hell was praying to me?
And more importantly… how the hell do they know my name?
[Lord Fabio, can you hear me? You, who bestowed your blessing upon the maggots. Where are you? I wish to speak with you.]
The maggots? Of course.
Everything fell into place in an instant. Callister’s maggot ‘speakers.’ Anyone who checked their Status Window would’ve seen it: my blessing, “Heaven Above, I Alone Am Supreme,” blatantly listed there… right alongside the name “Fabio.”
That explained how they knew me.
In that case, they probably only have my name.
[If you would instruct me on how best to serve you, I would happily perform a ritual sacrifice in your honor, Lord Fabio. Are you interest in forming an alliance with me?]
Like hell I am.
An alliance? After slapping me and my team with a curse designed to cripple us, now they want to “negotiate”? Yeah, no thanks. I wasn’t about to entertain the thought.
Still, just my name being exposed shouldn’t be a huge problem… right? If names alone were all it took to destroy someone, the gods in the pantheon would’ve been cursed into oblivion eons ago. No, this felt like bait. An attempt to prod me and see how I’d respond.
I was just about ready to brush it off completely when another System message appeared. This one was far more concerning than the last.
[Everything possessed by your Servant belongs to you. Including the ‘System User’!]
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
Before I could even ask the System for a translation, another notification window popped up. Only this time, it wasn’t mine.
[Nyapoleon has sent a message to your Servant, ‘Pandomonium’.]
…Nyapoleon?
[Nyapoleon: Hey hey.]
[Nyapoleon: You alive?]
It took me a second to process what I was seeing. Not only could I see Pandomonium’s Status Window, but every one of his other system notifications, too?
I glanced over at him. His expression was puzzled, his brow furrowed slightly. He’d obviously seen the messages, but he had no idea I could also see them, which meant I now had complete access to his System activity without him knowing.
The realization gave me pause. My eyes drifted to the blinking cursor in his chat input box, waiting for a reply. If I could see his messages as they came in, was it possible I could send them, too?
The possibilities started cooking in my head. From his perspective, anything I typed into that box would just appear in his chat log as if he’d sent it. He’d think his System had been compromised. Hacked, even.
Hacked… Who does that remind me of…?
[Nyapoleon: Do you know who ‘Fabio’ is?]
Across from me, Pandomonium went absolutely still.
I waited, curious about how he would handle it. Would he try to hide it? Come up with a lie? To his credit, he didn’t.
“…Uh, hey, Hyung?” he said cautiously. “Bonaparte just messaged me. About you.”
“I know,” I said calmly, barely glancing at him. “I’m reading everything as it comes in.”
His eyes widened in disbelief. “…You can see my messages? Like, all of them? Even the old stuff?!”
“No. Only from the moment you became my Servant.”
The relief on his face was so obvious it was almost funny. What’s with that reaction? What kind of secrets are you hiding in your DMs? Knowing him, it was probably something ridiculous, like one of his harebrained conspiracy theories. Maybe him arguing that Insanity was secretly the player Qwerasdf.
“Listen carefully,” I instructed firmly. “From now on, you’re my mouthpiece. I’ll tell you exactly what to say, and you’ll type it out. Make it sound like you, but don’t even think about improvising or answering on your own. Leave that to me.”
The next messages from Nyapoleon came through.
[Nyapoleon: Looks like ‘Fabio’ is trying to do something with Ledeia’s contaminated Holy Flesh, so I stepped in and stopped him for now.]
[Nyapoleon: If you know anything about it, let’s swap info.]
I narrowed my eyes. “You and Bonaparte close? Do you trade info with him often?”
“What? No! I actually blocked that guy ages ago. Figured he’d try to screw me over if I didn’t. So how the hell is he even messaging me now?”
I gestured at his inbox. “Ask him.”
[Pandomonium: I’m pretty sure I blocked you?]
[Nyapoleon: I bought a block-bypass item from the point shop.]
I had to hold back a laugh. A block-bypass item? Seriously? Of course there’s a microtransaction for that. What’s next, a System Harassment Bundle? It’s bad enough that the devs lock basic convenience features behind a paywall, but they also have the audacity to sell items specifically designed to break those features for other players? This whole game is a flaming dumpster fire.
And the worst part? The points system is completely rigged. It doesn’t even reward players fairly. What’s stopping someone like the Mother God’s player, who’s probably drowning in points, from just buying their way past every defense you set up? Then, they could just harass you as much as they wanted without you being able to do a damn thing about it.
The game’s management is an absolute joke. But it’s not like the greedy, exploitative devs care. Why would they? It’s not like we can log out. When your players are prisoners, you can get away with anything, no matter how many complaints they have.
[Nyapoleon: I’ve been keeping this information in my back pocket. You know, for a special occasion.]
[Nyapoleon: C’mon, it’s a lead on a new player. You’re not curious?]
He was baiting us on purpose. Alright, first things first. I needed to figure out what this guy actually knew versus what he was just speculating.
“Tell him to share whatever ‘intel’ he’s got first.”
[Pandomonium: You first.]
[Nyapoleon: Fine, fine. Here’s what I’ve got so far…]
If he really knew anything important, he wouldn’t be proposing polite “information exchanges.” He’d be demanding things, holding leverage. This was probably nothing. Probably.
[Nyapoleon: 1. Through process of elimination, ‘Fabio’ is Happy God’s player.]
…Through process of elimination? Did he figure that out by ruling out everyone else? If that’s true, it means he’s already tracked down and identified every other Player in the game.
Okay, that’s… actually impressive. Annoying, but impressive.
[Nyapoleon: 2. ‘Fabio’ is a former serf who hails from the same frontier village as ex-Cardinal Ansberto, the adoptive father of Order Knight Commander Casimir. Ansberto now serves there as the village bell-ringer.]
“Hyung… is that true?”
“……”
I didn’t answer.
This wasn’t the kind of information you stumbled across by making small talk with priests or poking around in Cathedral archives. No, this was specific. Dangerously specific.
Who had Nyapoleon gotten this from? Whose skull did he crack open to dig up all this? Not Casimir, surely…
No. It had to be Nasir. He’s the one who stormed into my backwater village to drag me back here. And now that I thought about it, the last time I saw him, he was sporting a brand-new pair of cat ears.
So that means he must’ve run into nekomimi-obsessed Nyapoleon right after he dropped me off.
It had to be a suggestion spell. Nyapoleon probably hit Nasir with a simple command, something like, “Tell me everything about your last mission.”
That would’ve been enough to get the name Fabio. Then, when Nyapoleon saw the same name pop up on the maggot’s Status Window today, the rest of the pieces fell into place. Still, this guy doesn’t have proof. He was feeling us out, tossing out a little bait to see if we’d confirm it for him.
Damn it. I really should’ve gone with a random Divine Name, something meaningless that wouldn’t lead back to my real identity.
I can practically hear Andrea saying, “I told you so.” If only I had taken his advice beforehand!
But if all Nyapoleon has is a name and a backwater hometown? I can work with that. This is still fixable—
[Nyapoleon: 3. ‘Fabio’ has a method to avoid being condemned by the Apostles. No, it’s even more than that. He’s under their direct protection. He’s even staying at the Apostles’ Hall during the Council meeting. I have no idea how that’s even possible.]
My stomach dropped.
What?
How? How the hell does he know this? Is someone watching me? Is the Hall compromised? Or is there a traitor on the inside?
[Nyapoleon: 4. And the Reader who ‘Marcello Teres’ suddenly confessed to… that’s probably this ‘Fabio,’ isn’t it?]
“Shit.” Pandomonium cursed under his breath.
I clenched my fists, anger bubbling up inside me.
I really wanted to grab this idiot by the collar and shake him. What was he thinking? Pulling off a public stunt like that, in broad daylight, without sparing a single thought for the consequences? A confession, of all things? He’d practically put a target on my back himself!
But it was too late for that now. What’s done was done.
[Nyapoleon: 6. Therefore, “Fabio” is Qwerasdf’s alt account. Or at the very least, that’s what you believe.]
I blinked, then reread the line. What?
How the hell did he come to that conclusion? What kind of backwards, fever-dream logic was this? Did Pandomonium actually go around talking about his absurd “marriage offensive” plan to win over Qwerasdf? No, that didn’t seem likely. This wasn’t some carefully thought-out deduction. He was just throwing around wild theories.
[Nyapoleon: 7. And Marcello Teres. You’re with ‘Fabio’ right now, aren’t you?]
[Nyapoleon: That’s the long and short of it. Got anything to add?]
[Nyapoleon: I’ve put my cards on the table. It’s your turn.]
“Hyung…” Pandomonium’s voice was tense, uneasy.
“Hold on. I’m thinking.”
On the surface, this looked like a confident move—lining up all his “evidence” like he had us cornered. But something about it felt off. If Nyapoleon really thought he had us pinned down, he wouldn’t be showing his entire hand like this.
Why not keep us guessing? Why not let us squirm, wondering how much he actually knew? You don’t give up your intelligence advantage unless you have to. Far better to let your opponent assume you don’t know anything and keep them in the dark.
Which means…
This wasn’t confidence. This was a bluff. A last-ditch attempt to get us to show our own hand. He didn’t know for sure. He was just as lost as we were, hoping we’d let some information slip.
Think about it. Say you stumble across an enemy camp. If it’s just a bunch of guys sitting around in tents, you wouldn’t hesitate. You’d firebomb the whole place without a second thought. But what if, instead, you peek through the trees and see a fully functional tank parked right in the middle of their camp? You’ve still found the enemy, sure. But now? The question isn’t where they are. It’s what can you even do about it?
Suddenly, everything changes.
And that’s exactly the situation Nyapoleon is in. He doesn’t have a single unit on his team who could even dream of surviving a one-on-one fight with Pandomonium. It’s not even a question. On a battlefield where most players are still trying to figure out how to craft slightly sharper arrows to throw at each other, the God of War went all-in on one strategy. The bastard cashed in every chip he had to field the equivalent of a state-of-the-art tank.
It’s a high-stakes, all-or-nothing gamble. If the tank gets isolated or caught in a trap, that’s Game Over. But in a head-on fight? Just on sheer intimidation alone? Yeah, that’s enough to make anyone stop and reconsider.
The more Nyapoleon learns about my ‘tank’, the more desperate he’ll be to avoid a direct confrontation he knows he’d lose.
Of course, there’s always the option of setting a mental attack trap, like the one the Distorted One used. But that option’s off the table now, isn’t it? By asking if Pandomonium was with me, Nyapoleon wasn’t just asking innocently. He was really asking, “Are you protected by that same Heaven Above, I Alone Reign Supreme immunity blessing?” He’s testing the waters, trying to probe the extent of my power.
And he’s being careful about it, completely oblivious to the fact that Pandomonium is one bad breath away from keeling overd—stacked with Divine Punishment debuffs, limping forward on pure stubbornness, clinging to whatever scraps of HP he has left. All Nyapoleon can see is the unstoppable tank bogeyman looming in front of him.
“Tell him yes,” I said.
“What?” Pandomonium balked. “Are you crazy? We don’t know what that bastard’s planning!”
“Relax,” I said, waving him off. “If Bonaparte was planning to attack, he wouldn’t waste time confirming anything with us. People looking to pull the trigger don’t ask first.”
Pandomonium grumbled under his breath, but he still typed it out.
[Pandomonium: Yup, he’s next to me.]
[Nyapoleon: I have a question for ‘Fabio.’ Why did you create those ‘Arms’ crying the name of Oblivion? Can you tell me your goal?]
“No.”
[Pandomonium: Nah.]
[Nyapoleon: Come on. That’s it? After all the information I gave you? Doesn’t this exchange seem a little… one-sided?]
I scoffed. “Bullshit. All he did was drop a few things we already knew. By confirming I’m here, we’ve given him new information. If anyone’s losing in this so-called ‘information exchange,’ it’s us.”
Pandomonium smirked a little and started typing.
[Pandomonium: My ‘Yup’ > Everything you just said. Got it?]
[Nyapoleon: …So you’re saying my info was worthless because you already knew it? Fine. I get it. I’ll balance the scales. Ask me anything. One freebie.]
I leaned back. Now this was my chance to take control of the conversation.
The question was: What was the most important thing I needed to know?
“Ask him why he really reached out to us. What’s his real objective?”
[Pandomonium: Cut the cryptic crap. What do you actually want?]
[Nyapoleon: Straight to the point. I like that in a War God’s man. Cooperation, that’s all. There’s something only you can give me.]
[Nyapoleon: Your Trait. ‘Indomitable Will.’ That Restoration power.]
I turned to Pandomonium, eyebrows raised. “Just double-checking, but that’s not possible, right? Handing over a Trait?”
“Of course not! Otherwise, I’d have given it to you, hyung, instead of asking you to believe in the War God back then.”
Thought so. There are only two ways to acquire a Trait bestowed by the God of War: either make Pandomonium your Servant, like I did, and channel the divine ability directly, or… kill him and chop up his body to create a Holy Relic.
So what’s Nyapoleon really after? Is he expecting Pandomonium to chop off a finger to give him, assuming it’ll regenerate with Restoration? That doesn’t add up. The System requires you to consume at least 60% of someone’s biomass to extract their biological data. A finger wouldn’t cut it. You’d need way more flesh than that to transfer a Trait… at least, according to how it works in the game.
I shook my head. “Tell him no. There’s no telling what kind of trouble that could lead to, especially when we’re not dealing with just any player, but Mother God’s player.”
[Pandomonium: Hard pass. Feels like you’re just trying to set me up as a future snack.]
[Nyapoleon: Perish the thought! I have a method that lets me acquire the trait without causing you any harm whatsoever. Mother has bestowed a new blessing upon me, you see.]
Pandomonium shot a glance my way, frowning. “New blessing? Hyung, do you know what he’s talking about?”
I went stiff, my lips pressing flat.
“……”
[Nyapoleon: All you have to do is mate with me. Just once. :)]