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

#033Reader Mode

T/N: Just as a heads up! Conversations via telepathy will be in brackets! (˵ •̀ ᴗ – ˵ ) ✧ Enjoy~

#033

Tertius took great pride in his ability to see emotions as colors, a unique gift that landed him the position of an adjudicator.

Even when the crafting of a sacred artifact required the gruesome removal of his eyes, he had no regrets. After all, he knew his eyes would regenerate, so enduring a moment of pain seemed like a small price to pay.

He even felt secretly intoxicated by his own uniqueness, believing his special eyes had given him the opportunity to make a significant contribution.

Yet, there was someone who made Tertius regret his ability to see emotions…

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

At a bustling gathering in the training grounds, where apprentice knights clashed in a much-awaited sparring duel, Tertius joined the throng of enthusiastic onlookers.

“You… why are you so weak?” a voice cut through the air. “Eight years of training with the sword, and yet, you lose out to someone who’s barely trained for three months?”

“Ugh…!”

“Honestly, I fail to understand how you could possibly dream of becoming a paladin with skills so subpar.”

“You, you monster…!”

“Monster?” Adna’s voice echoed, her head tilting slightly in confusion as she looked down at the defeated petitioner. “A monster implies an aberration, an anomaly. I am neither. I am simply a knight of the Order, far from abnormal. But do enlighten me, what drives you to brand me as such?”

Adna, a striking enigma at 16, was a novice in the Paladin squad, typically a rank reserved for those who’d spent a significant chunk of their childhood in rigorous training.

Rumors circulated that she was the chosen Apostle of the cruel [God of Frozen Winter], and her icy demeanor made her all the more intriguing, if not terrifying, to the young teenage apprentices around her.

At first, Adna’s arrival stirred a blend of apprehension and genuine curiosity among her fellow trainees.

“I see,” she continued, her voice tinged with a cold clarity. “Calling me a monster is merely your shield against the sting of defeat, a desperate attempt to preserve a semblance of superiority, isn’t it?”

However, this fragile bond of goodwill started to dissolve the moment Adna transitioned from solo practice to group drills.

“I get it. I truly do,” she remarked. “It takes a special kind of dreamer to reach for something so far beyond their grasp. Your aspiration is commendable, even if your swordplay is not.”

“Ahhhhhh!!!”

A single conversation with Adna had the power to shatter every preconceived notion about her, leaving a single, stunned thought in its wake:

How could… there be a bastard who talks like this?!

And Tertius, blessed with the unique gift to perceive emotions as colors, found himself even more dumbfounded.

How can… she say those harsh words without a hint of malice?

Adna, it seemed, was genuinely curious in her line of questioning. She found contentment in satisfying her curiosity and truly appreciated acquiring knowledge she didn’t know before.

Seeing her sparring partner, a turbulent mix of anger and humiliation, and Adna, who sauntered off the training grounds, projecting an aura of pride, satisfaction, and gratitude, Tertius clenched his jaw in resolve and followed her.

That twisted way of speaking has to change…!

Who else but someone like him, who could see emotions, to undertake this task?

Indeed, it was against the order of things to let someone with such brilliant potential be misunderstood and hated by others…

At least, that’s what Tertius believed.

After hearing about Adna’s truly miserable past, not as the cherished Apostle of the God of Frozen Winter, but as a traumatized child, Tertius saw teaching her in the nuances of proper communication as his solemn mission.

But Adna…

[Even if someone is less talented than you, don’t dismiss them as weak Adna! Find their good points somehow and speak positively about them! Everyone is working hard!]

“…You continue your training daily, despite seeing little improvement. That’s remarkable tenacity. Not knowing how to give up… that must be your talent.”

[Please try to remember people’s names, Adna! It’s challenging for you, I know, but only I am aware of that. Others don’t realize it, and that’s why they think you are ignoring them. At the very least, apologize when you forget their names!]

“…What was your name again? Ah, my sincerest apologies. Names often escape me, especially if the person doesn’t leave a strong impression. I might forget again, so your patience would be appreciated. Please understand, it’s not deliberate; it genuinely slips my mind. I hope for your understanding in this matter.”

[If you can’t understand someone’s expression, at least ask them about it!]

“Hmm. Could you explain the meaning behind that facial expression for me?” Adna inquired. “And perhaps clue me in on your emotions? Why have you been shouting ‘Aaah!’ so often? Is it meant to display your fighting spirit? The logic of voicing such spirit, particularly after a defeat, eludes me. Oh, is it an expression of you recognizing your shortcomings and deciding to work harder? If so, that’s quite admirable.”

Regrettably, Adna was hopelessly bad at speaking.

[Are you sure you’re not trying to intentionally piss people off?]

Even Tertius, who prided himself on being able to see emotions, began to doubt his own abilities.

As Adna sauntered towards him, emotions beaming with a misplaced sense of accomplishment, Tertius felt a crushing despair.

[How about it, Tertius?] said Adna, [I’ve diligently followed your guidance. Notice any improvement in how I interact with others?]

[…Not really.]

[Hmm. If they still despise me despite my efforts, perhaps the issue lies with them.]

[No, Adna, the issue remains with you.]

[Ah, I see. So, what’s our next move? I hope something works out. I’m starting to have my doubts about your ability to fix me, as you put it.]

[I’m beginning to question it myself too…]

In spite of himself, Tertius felt an overwhelming urge to give up.

[…If you’re unsure, feel free to walk away at anytime. I didn’t get it at first, but I realize now you’re skilled at reading emotions, not necessarily understanding them. Maybe that’s the shortfall in your advice.]

[…….]

[Even though it was a meaningless effort, I appreciate you trying to help me. Of course, I’m quite disappointed since I had high hopes based on your promises. But such is life. Why linger on endeavors doomed to fail?]

[Ugh… ]

[That’s… a troubled expression, correct? Did I get it right?]

[Aaaah!]

[Oh, are you echoing that guy from earlier? Showing off your spirit! Splendid. I’ll join in!]

[Aaaah!]

[Aaaaah…!]

[Aaaaah! But really, how long should we keep up this shouting match? Wouldn’t it be more productive to do something tangible instead of just hollering…]

[Aaaah! Adna, for the love of Roklem, please just shut up!!]

In that moment, Tertius found himself gripped by a renewed sense of resolve.

[I’ll never give up! Understand? I will fix your way of speaking no matter what!]

[….Impressive. I would have lost faith in my abilities after the tenth failure, yet you barrel through with sheer will? How do you maintain such blind self-confidence?]

[That’s it! No more questions!]

[But wasn’t it you who suggested asking questions to better understand others? Why contradict your own advice now?]

[No questions means no questions! Don’t argue!]

In the years that followed, Tertius dedicated himself to reshaping Adna’s problematic way of speaking.

Yet, his advice often seemed to backfire.

Then, in a rare display of vulnerability, Adna voiced her thoughts quietly.

[…Knowing when to give up is also important, Tertius.]

[Haaa…]

[Some are simply fated to be hated.]

[No, it’s not fate. It’s because you’re making your words ambiguous.]

[But even you, with your gift of seeing emotions, grew impatient with me, right?]

[Well, I… ]

[There are battles we’re not meant to win. You should accept that. I’ve already come to terms with being unpopular.]

[No…]

[And honestly, it doesn’t matter to me anymore.]

[What?]

[I have set my sights on becoming an Apostle. Once I achieve that, people will naturally be drawn towards me. Why should I exert extra effort then?]

[So what? You’re giving up on correcting your bad speaking habits?]

[I might reconsider if there was a successful method. But hasn’t everything failed up to now?]

[…Still, you’ve improved since the beginning, though.]

[If you say so. But it’s irrelevant now, so I won’t bother anymore.]

[What…?]

[I wanted to thank you in advance. Becoming an Apostle means we won’t cross paths as often.]

[What! I have achieved just as much as you have! Have you overlooked the fact that I’m also a strong candidate to become an Apostle?]

[But is that truly your achievement?]

[Huh?]

[Weren’t those accomplishments achieved through giving up your eyes?]

[My feats, despite being achieved through my eyes, are mine nonetheless!]

[But if someone else used your eyes as an artifact, wouldn’t they achieve the same? While I respect your part in crafting artifacts, does that really make you a suitable Apostle candidate?]

[…What?]

[I have many flaws myself, obstructing my path to becoming an Apostle. Yet, aren’t you still a few steps behind me?]

[Haah…]

[Have you properly considered what will happen if you don’t become an Apostle, Tertius? Honestly, I think now is not the time for you to fret over my speech. Even without your help, I’d still reach Apostle status and won’t be hated anymore. But if you had spent this time honing your own skills, don’t you think you’d be stronger than you are now?]

[Ugh…]

[Tertius, you’re a hard worker, but you tend to waste time on meaningless efforts. Hard work doesn’t always yield results, like your efforts with me. Time and effort are limited resources. I think it’s more important to direct your efforts in the right direction than to just put in a lot of effort.]

[Ooof…]

[I’ve given it some thought, and I think your biggest flaw might be your reluctance to admit when you’re wrong.]

[……!]

[On top of that, you have a habit of misreading situations. So, when these two tendencies collide, you end up wasting time pursuing ventures that, honestly, are doomed from the get-go.]

[…….]

[I’ve wanted to say this for a while: learn to recognize and accept your shortcomings, and more importantly, make wise decisions.]

Looking at Adna’s emotions, Tertius saw nothing but sincere concern and kindness.

For the first time ever, I wish I didn’t have this ability to see emotions.

Under normal circumstances, he’d have just been angry. But seeing her genuine goodwill was somehow even more infuriating!

[What… will happen when I become an Apostle?] he asked suddenly.

[Hm?]

[You said it was impossible, but what if it happens? What will you do then?]

[…? I’d be thrilled, of course. Isn’t that obvious?]

[……]

Tertius fought back a bitter taste in his mouth, thinking,

Yeah, let’s give up.

The church had repeatedly insisted that her terrible way of speaking was not a curse. But by now, it felt like one.

A gift that infuriates you despite understanding that they have the best intentions…

Tertius had been naïve to think he could change this.

He had been stubborn, unwilling to acknowledge his own mistakes.

…All this time, I thought I was tolerating Adna’s shortcomings. But in truth, she was enduring mine.

At some point, his desire to help Adna had slowly become more about proving himself right.

Even now, I still have plans and a stubborn urge to follow them through. If I share them, Adna would follow along as usual.

Yet, their joint resources and efforts would likely meet a dead end once again.

And he’d find himself angered by Adna’s twisted words like always…

All of this was a waste of time, and I have to admit that now.

Despite the hollowness that this realization brought, there was an undeniable sense of relief.

[…You’re right, actually. I should focus my efforts on something more productive. I appreciate the advice.]

[It’s nothing, really. Don’t thank me too much. But truthfully, I wish I’d spoken up earlier, seeing how my words actually made you rethink things.]

“……”

[Hmm. I just realized something. Does my success in changing your perspective mean I’m better at giving advice? After all, all your advice fell flat on its face while mine has a 100% success rate…]

[…Crazy thought, but did you ever consider the possibility that my failure rate might be because of you?]

[……? Of course, I’ve got my issues. But didn’t you believe you could iron those out with your advice? If your guidance faltered, doesn’t that suggest you misjudged the situation? That perhaps your advice wasn’t the right fit?]

Another long silence stretched between them.

[Thinking about it, could it be that you’re just awful at giving advice? Oh, and if my logic is flawed, feel free to point it out.]

[Ah… I’m so pissed off…]

If she were to become an Apostle, her title might well be [The Unbearable Provoker] or perhaps [The Twisted Tongue That Makes You Fly into a Rage]…

[…Adna. How about a duel?]

[So suddenly? Did my words shake your confidence in becoming an Apostle without my guidance, leaving you feeling insecure?]

[…Yeah. That’s exactly why I want this duel.]

Please, just let me land one solid hit on her!

[Alright. Aiding those less fortunate is a duty of the strong. I’ll gladly accept your challenge.]

But to Tertius’s dismay, he didn’t even manage to lay a single finger on Adna…

Tertius sobbed his heart out that day, well out of Adna’s sight.

And as time passed, Adna finally ascended to the rank of an Apostle.

Her eyes, once as frosty and blue as the winter sky, now shimmered silver with mere specks of blue left.

[Adna… No, I suppose I should call you Ada now.]

[If it’s more comfortable for you, Adna is fine.]

[…So, how does it feel, being an Apostle?]

Adna had grown tired of the misunderstandings, thus deciding to become an Apostle.

Tertius wasn’t exactly in a celebratory mood, but he offered his congratulations, nonetheless.

At that moment, a radiant halo emerged behind Adna’s head.

[What are you up to now?…]

[I’m invoking the Blessing of Resonance.]

[Why?]

The Blessing of Resonance was typically used by war leaders to boost morale or during large gatherings to unify the hearts of their faithful followers.

[…You once told me… It’s important to clear up misunderstandings. That even the best intentions are meaningless if they aren’t communicated effectively.]

Adna gently grasped Tertius’s hands.

[You’re right. I’m not great at sharing my feelings, my face rarely reveals anything, and I often miss the emotional cues of others. Yet, you were the only one who could see my true emotions, offering comfort when I felt most misunderstood.]

A rush of gratitude, joy, and deep affection flooded Tertius’s heart, outshining the luminous white halo behind her.

[I wanted you to know how much I appreciate you.]

“…….”

[If only I could put all that into words. But as you’ve pointed out, my attempts at speaking often lead to more misunderstandings.]

[That’s true.]

[So, I thought, why not show my appreciation like this?]

[Haha. That does make sense.]

If only she could communicate these feelings verbally… How wonderful that would be!

Tears welled up in Tertius’s eyes.

[People cry when they feel like this, don’t they?] Adna asked.

[Why aren’t you crying?]

[I’m not sure. Maybe you forgot to teach me how to cry properly.]

Tertius couldn’t help but chuckle through his tears at her response.

[Do I really need to teach you that too!…]

From then on, Tertius acknowledged that his efforts hadn’t been in vain and mentally vowed to slightly rein in his quick temper.

Even after Adna rose to Apostleship, Tertius became the go-to person for other Apostles regarding any issue involving her – a bit bothersome, but he took it in stride, nonetheless.

Who else but me could be Adna’s nanny?

He had, after all, been the one to reach out to her, determined to help her change.

Still, Tertius couldn’t help but feel a spark of irritation whenever he received a message about Adna.

Upon hearing that Apostle Adna had been carelessly flinging holy power around in her personal training ground like a wild lightning storm, he rushed over, swearing under his breath.

And there, amidst the wreckage of the training area, stood Adna. Her halo shone so intensely it almost blinded him.

Has she completely lost her mind?!