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

#023Reader Mode

T/N: Happy Halloween! Ψ(｀▽´)Ψ

#023

As Fabio and the fifth Apostle left, Casimir broke the lingering silence. “What did you perceive within him?”

“Would you believe me if I confessed that I saw… absolutely nothing?”

“Impossible.”

An ordinary serf, raised in the seclusion of the countryside, couldn’t possibly speak so eloquently.

Casimir’s lips curled into a sly smile. “He must have led an extraordinary existence to be chosen by an entity from beyond the stars. It begs the question: how many lives has he experienced?”

After a moment of deep reflection, the Saint replied solemnly, “…One thousand, two hundred, and twenty-one times.”

“What?”

Casimir was stunned. “Are you saying he’s surpassed the previous record holder, who barely reached four hundred?”

Three times that amount?

Casimir’s mind struggled to comprehend it.

As the esteemed knight commander of the Inquisitors, Casimir had encountered numerous [Watched Ones] marked by incomprehensible otherworldly beings. Each of these individuals carried a distinct aura of madness.

Some displayed it more clearly, while others hid it well, but beneath the surface, the madness lingered.

How could they maintain their sanity while carrying the chaotic blend of countless lives within their human vessels?

Of course, some managed their chaotic memories exceptionally well, projecting an outwardly ‘normal’ appearance…

“But he seemed too careless for that.”

Fabio stood out to Casimir as the ‘least insane’ of them all, perhaps touched by no more than three or four past lives. His intellect was keen, yet his nervous habits betrayed him; his hands fidgeted, and his eyes often drifted off in deep thought. Even his refined eloquence seemed at odds with his humble origins, traits that set him apart from the other [Watched Ones].

Casimir felt an almost painful sense of humanity in Fabio, like a lamb thrown to the wolves, or a warrior dropped into a coliseum filled with monsters, clueless about how to wield a sword. His words could move hearts, but that seemed to be the extent of his power.

As Casimir observed him, she couldn’t shake the thought that perhaps the entity beyond the stars had chosen Fabio simply for its amusement.

But what if, beneath that naive exterior, lurked a monstrosity unlike any other?

“No, no,” Casimir mused. “If I’ve judged him so quickly, I’ve let my guard down entirely…”

The idea that Fabio’s innocent facade could be an elaborate ruse sent a shiver down Casimir’s spine. Despite the warning signs, a strange sense of fondness for Fabio was growing within Casimir.

However, Casimir had three strong reasons to remain guarded.

First, Fabio came from the same rural village as the former Archbishop Ansberto. Casimir knew that to those marked by beings beyond the stars, physical forms were disposable vessels.

But why choose a serf like ‘Fabio’?

He had no inherent gifts, wealth, or influence. His appearance was equally unremarkable: sun-kissed brown hair and meek brown eyes. The lack of facial hair gave him a youthful look, more akin to a desert child than a man.

In Casimir’s eyes, he was utterly ordinary.

So, what exactly are their plans for him?

He’s certainly not impressive at first glance. You’d be more inclined to let him relax in the shade while you did all the hard work. With his soothing voice, you’d ask him to read aloud, but he’s not exactly husband material. Perhaps he could be suitable as a third option.

Casimir couldn’t find anything captivating about him at first. There must be some other reason they chose him as a vessel.

I don’t know why he approached the former Archbishop, but it’s obvious that my father is completely enamored with Fabio…

Initially, Casimir had doubted that the letter she received truly came from her father. It was only the presence of the distinctive scratched seal that convinced her of its authenticity.

This man, her father, gave the impression that going back on his word was akin to inviting death. He had once stated, “I have no need to ask for your help,” only to swiftly change his mind and request assistance.

Casimir first thought he was under a spell, but that wasn’t the case. Nasir, naturally resistant to mental manipulation due to his golden eyes, was equally surprised to find no spell at work.

That’s why they took extensive precautions, casting multiple defensive protections and blessings in the office before his arrival.

Despite all this, Fabio managed to work a miracle. He swayed her with nothing but his words and charisma.

His mastery of language was extraordinary.

Had he been praising anyone other than Roklem, she would have ripped out his tongue and burned it then and there.

His persuasive skills were that dangerous.

And yet, she hesitated to isolate or kill him. It would be a waste, she felt, for some inexplicable reason.

If every action he took was part of a calculated plan…

Casimir shuddered, goosebumps rising on her skin once more.

The second concern is that any blessings intended to influence the ‘mind’ seem to have no effect on him. The Inquisition specializes in manipulation and uncovering hidden truths, yet their skills are ineffective against him. It is impossible to know what secrets he might be keeping.

Until recently, Casimir maintained a somewhat relaxed attitude towards the situation.

He appeared so frightened that even the mildest torture seemed enough to make him confess everything. A few slaps, and he’d be weeping and spilling his secrets.

On the surface, he seemed to have a hint of toughness, as if he could withstand torture to protect his deepest secrets. But it was clear that he was hiding something.

However, what if this apparent vulnerability is merely an act?

If so, then she would be playing right into his hands, completely deceived. What if she misinterpreted his inconsistent reactions as unintentional mistakes, only to realize later that she had been fooled, falling into a trap he had set?

Assuming all of this is true…

There remained one crucial question, the most important concern of all: Why had he sought out the Order willingly?

Beings beyond the stars were aware of the [Amended Regulations]. The Saint had the unique ability to peer into the [Records] of the [Watched Ones], and this power was governed by these very regulations.

Unless the Othergod deliberately concealed it, he should know that his records could be read…

Casimir initially speculated that Fabio had approached them while fleeing from some trivial enemy, believing that he would not receive [Atonement] even in the Saint’s presence. Or perhaps it was a cruel joke by the Othergod, deliberately withholding crucial information for its own twisted entertainment.

However, this theory fell apart when she learned the truth about his extraordinary record. With a [Record] as impressive as his, it was clear that the Othergod had selected him as its most promising candidate.

So, why would he willingly expose such a remarkable record to the Saint?

If his act, imperfect as it was, had remained undetected, it still held value. Why, then, would he go to great lengths to lower her guard, only to undermine his efforts by revealing it as a facade?

As Casimir pondered this, she noticed the Saint’s gentle smile, and it led her to a crucial realization.

If Fabio’s truly as monstrous as his record suggested, why is the Saint so fond of him?

He wouldn’t have been placed under the care of the fifth Apostle if he were truly dangerous.

No, even before that, the Saint wouldn’t have comforted him as if he were a lost and scared child.

What unseen truth had the Saint seen in him?

“…He may have the skill to lower my guard,” Casimir said, “but with your ability to read people, you should be impervious. Why is that not the case?” Skepticism could be seen on her face.

A massive grin spread across the Saint’s face, threatening to split it in two. “How could I not?” the Saint replied cryptically.

Before Casimir could frown or express her confusion, the Saint continued, “How could I not love him?”

…What nonsense is this?

Casimir seriously considered gathering the other Apostles to confine this unpredictable Saint.

A radiant smile on his face, the Saint declared, “Ah, I suppose I should explain. You’re curious about what I saw, aren’t you? One thousand, two hundred, and twenty-one times—that’s how many times he has faced death.”

“What?”

“And through all those deaths,” the Saint continued, his eyes sparkling with excitement and color flooding his cheeks, “not once did he rise against the Order, nor did he triumph. Can you believe it? He never committed a single sin during all those deaths!”

“…Is that even possible?” Casimir questioned, trying to wrap her head around what she was hearing.

[Watched Ones] are unique beings who have entered into a contract with an Othergod at some point in their lives. But summoning an Othergod, aligning oneself with the stars, requires a staggering number of sacrifices.

Is it even possible to commit such bloody acts and remain free from sin?

Even if the victims were despicable criminals, any act of judgment or vengeance without proper authority is considered a sin in the eyes of Roklem. He would still bear the stain of usurping judgment.

“It is possible!” the Saint insisted. “Didn’t you see the evidence for yourself?”

“But he did make a contract, didn’t he?”

“What if,” the Saint theorized, “the Othergod wanted nothing in return? What if a simple whispered prayer, a desperate plea on bended knee, was enough to seal their contract? What if the Othergod asked for no grand sacrifices, no bloodshed or ceremonies, but instead found twisted amusement in watching him endure unimaginable agony, death after agonizing death, one thousand, two hundred, and twenty-one times over? Would that not leave him free of sin?”

“…But why would an Othergod bother with such a meaningless endeavor?”

The Saint’s laughter echoed through the chamber, bouncing off the ornate walls. “Ah, do you truly think we can fathom the mind of a being from beyond the stars? The only thing one can expect from an Othergod is their boundless unpredictability, isn’t it?”

Casimir fell into a deep contemplation, her brow furrowed. “Even so, they value this ‘game,’ don’t they? It’s clearly the final round, which can never be repeated, so why would they…?”

“Shift your perspective,” the Saint suggested. “Consider it from their viewpoint. For beings that exist through the ages, is this ‘important’ game truly a one-time event? Would they even consider it important? If it’s so significant, why trivialize it by calling it a game?”

Casimir was left speechless, baffled by the Saint’s unique perspective.

“And now, for an even more astonishing revelation,” the Saint carried on. “The soul I saw within him was pure.”

“Does that mean…?”

“Yes. All 1,221 of those deaths were endured by him.”

“…Shouldn’t he have broken down long ago after experiencing so much suffering?”

Casimir found herself at a loss, unable to refute the Saint’s points yet hesitant to fully accept them. One would expect that after enduring over a thousand deaths, his original humanity would have been eroded, transforming him into something else entirely.

And yet, Fabio didn’t display the demeanor of someone who had gone through such traumatic experiences.

“Why torment one person so relentlessly for so long?” she asked. “If he’s weak, he should have broken immediately. If he’s resilient, he would have adjusted and become boring for them.”

The joyous glow on the Saint’s face faded. “By erasing his past memories, they ensure that each torment is as fresh and terrifying as the first. It’s as if they delight in the freshness of his agony, maintaining their exclusive hold on his mind.”

Casimir reeled, struck by the weight of the Saint’s words. It was a level of malevolence beyond comprehension—a sadistic streak of unmatched cruelty.

“In a world where growth comes from accumulated experiences, they cruelly ensured he gained none…”

Fabio seems to be entangled with someone truly deranged…

“Fabio, ah, his real name is unknown, but he truly is himself. I am unable to delve into his mind, but I can sense the vibrancy of his emotions. How colorful they are! He is a tragic soul, dropped into this world, oblivious and full of suffering.”

“…If he is truly sinless, why not offer him salvation?”

In a strange turn of events earlier, the Saint lowered the Sword of Atonement just as he was about to pass judgment on Fabio.

The Sword of Atonement holds a dual nature: it sends the innocent to the [Realm of Order] without pain, a merciful release, while the guilty are condemned to endure torment proportional to their sins until their last breath.

The sinners – trapped between life and death until their penance is complete – often beg to assist the ‘Order’ in the hopes of finding some relief from their never-ending agony.

So, as Casimir watched, she expected Fabio to be found guilty and sentenced to a life of hard labor, the sword mercilessly piercing his skull. But if Fabio was truly innocent, untouched by sin, and had only known suffering, then why didn’t the Saint, in his kindness, grant him a peaceful end and send him to heaven?

“…He may be untainted by sin,” the Saint explained with a frighteningly solemn expression, “but he is beyond our reach.”

The Saint’s hand instinctively reached for his chest, seeking the comfort of a necklace that was no longer there. “If I were to grant him salvation, it’s true he would die painlessly, but it would not be the Realm of Order that awaits him, not the heaven governed by Roklem.”

“Everything that exists must align with Order,” he continued. “Our study of the stars has taught us that our world operates under a universal set of rules. Stars are symbols of Order, so it stands to reason that everything beneath the stars falls under the domain of the Order. The destruction of Order would mean the end of everything, a dismantling of reality as we know it. By preserving the Order, we protect our world and the universe from the looming darkness of annihilation. Oh, Roklem…”

The Chief Apostle of the Order closed his eyes gently, immersed in a solemn prayer.

“Even those who have wandered astray, the wicked and the forlorn, deserve the mercy of the Order. We cannot turn anyone away. It is kinder for a soul to face the Order’s judgment for its transgressions than to be forever severed from its grace.”

Tears streamed down the Saint’s cheeks like liquid pearls.

“Ah~ Hasn’t Fabio actively sought refuge within the Order? He longs for salvation! He has never once called upon the entity that watches over him. If he were to cry out for aid, surely his cries would be answered! How could we not extend our compassion to such a miserable soul? As a Saint, I would rather descend into the depths of hell, cradling him in my arms, than forsake him.”

The Saint’s prayer resonated in the air like a benediction, each word reverberating with the strength of his conviction.

“Heed my words,” he vowed, his liquid silver eyes now shining with a divine fervor, “I shall bring him into the warm embrace of the Order, where he belongs.”

“This I swear to Roklem, with all my heart and soul.”

As he concluded his prayer, a gentle smile graced the Saint’s face, an expression that would appear hauntingly beautiful to Fabio.

T/N: AYO WTF! Saint would rather burn in hell than let go of the MC. BRACE!!! The crazies are coming!!