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

#018Reader Mode

T/N: Buy all the goodies marinating in your shopping cart this instant. No second-guessing allowed—indulge yourself! (ง •̀_•́)ง

#018

A person who dared to challenge the laws set by Roklem found themselves facing punishment…

So, they went ahead and changed a law, huh? Seems like it was worth shaking things up then.

But instead of a pat on the back and a “job well done”, they found themselves in a world of trouble…

See, Roklem was a ruthless bastard, the kind who would mercilessly punish anyone who dared to break one of His laws, no matter how much He cherished them.

“Was the punishment excessive considering the crime?” I asked.

“…No.”

“Then Roklem simply did what was required of him. Isn’t it pointless to speculate about his ‘true intentions’ if he based his judgments on the written law rather than his unspoken will?”

“But what about the person who was punished? They did what was right and just, yet they received no recognition. Is that fair?”

“Did they expect a reward for their actions?”

Casimir’s frown deepened, but she remained silent.

“Well, did they? I’d wager they probably did the right thing simply because it was the right thing to do. Sometimes, when you challenge the established order, you lose more than you gain.”

“…It’s just heartbreaking,” she conceded, “when the wisest and bravest among us end up sacrificing so much.”

“Some people might find enlightenment in witnessing such a thing.”

“What enlightenment? To stand idly by while the wise and brave suffer for the betterment of the world?”

Her voice was simmering with barely contained fury.

I felt a little bit wronged, to be honest.

Who brings their personal baggage into an interview like this?

Is it really so hard to just pick a side on the whole ‘dip or pour’ debate?

Just pick one! Say “Pouring is the only civilized way, and dippers are tasteless heathens!”

Then they might surprise you and fire back with “Hell yeah, pouring is the real deal. Isn’t that how they serve it at the original restaurant? Those dipper bastards wouldn’t know good taste if it bit ‘em in the a*s!”

For the record, I’m team Dip all the way, but that’s beside the point.¹T/N: MC is talking about a popular debate among foodies, who discuss the proper way to enjoy certain dishes. The debate centers around whether it’s more authentic to dip your food into the sauce, or to generously drizzle the sauce right over the top. MC basically just wants Casimir to pick a side instead of grilling him about it. Lol

“No, I’m referring to the enlightenment that comes from creating a world where such sacrifices are no longer necessary.”

“…Sadly, it seems that kind of enlightenment is rare.”

“Haven’t you attained that enlightenment, Casimir?”

A raised eyebrow was her only response.

“You’re upset because you believe their sacrifice was unjust. You’re angry on their behalf.”

“…Yes. I’m the only one who remains angry.”

Her voice carried the weight of years of pent-up bitterness.

“Why did everyone else move on?”

“…Because he asked them to. He said that getting angry on his behalf would only make him uncomfortable. They respected his wishes and chose to remain silent.”

Shouldn’t you do the same…

“And so,” she lamented, “everything returned to an eerie calm, as if he had never existed. Everyone benefited from the changes he fought for, yet his name was never mentioned.”

But…isn’t this just using a personal vendetta to grill some random serf in an interview?

“…Do you think the same way?”

“Pardon?”

“Do you also believe, like those hypocrites, that ignoring him is the right thing to do, all while claiming to respect his wishes?”

Well shit, what’s the right answer here?

I felt like if there was a ‘YES’ button, she’d skewer it with that sword.

And considering there was an actual literal sword in the room, this question came across as a straight-up threat.

“No…”

“No? Choose your next words carefully. If you’re just trying to appease me, you’ll live to regret it. Now tell me again. Is it not the right thing to do?”

Oh perfect, an interrogator with a sword demanding I ‘be sincere’.

But hey, with a blade in my face, even I could muster up some counterfeit sincerity.

“Honestly, it’s not. Isn’t it written in the ‘Casebook’? The public interest should always come before personal interests.”

“… What do you mean?”

“I completely understand his desire to avoid further chaos. He seems like the kind of person who would do the right thing, even at his own expense. He probably didn’t want to see others distressed because of him.”

“However—”

“But think about it! Isn’t the ‘desire’ to ‘avoid discomfort’ a personal matter, a private interest?”

Ever heard of letting someone finish speaking?

Casimir stared at me as if attempting to penetrate the depths of my soul.

“The true public interest would be best served by proclaiming his deeds far and wide, remembering his actions, and keeping the conversation about him alive. Sure, it might create some tension and make him uncomfortable, but isn’t it wrong to prioritize personal comfort over the greater good?”

“So, you’re suggesting that it ultimately comes down to personal interests.”

“Exactly! And those so-called hypocrites got it wrong too. They should’ve kept personal feelings out of it, but didn’t they simply allow him to prioritize his own comfort because they were consumed by guilt?”

“So, what are you proposing? That we should have just disregarded his wishes?”

“He chose to make a sacrifice for the right reasons, and he wanted to be forgotten to prevent further troubles. But when those two desires conflict, shouldn’t we give more weight to the first one?”

“…….”

Casimir just stared at me, silent and intense.

She wouldn’t really cut me down for this, would she? I’m saying absolutely nonsense, but still…

“You have indeed been blessed with a remarkable gift, and it seems to manifest in your way with words.”

“Pardon?”

“I’m just admiring how well you speak.”

Isn’t she just saying I have a devilishly persuasive tongue?

I couldn’t help but gulp, feeling nervous.

For all I knew, my head was about to become the latest addition to the floor decor.

“When I asked Nasir to report to me about your situation, or when I told you to converse and make a judgment, I thought perhaps you employed some kind of ability…”

But I really didn’t receive any buffs related to speaking.

Once again, I felt wronged.

[Miracle of the Silver Tongue] is just an achievement trait. It doesn’t actually make me more persuasive.

Everything I’ve said is entirely my own words.

It’d be really unfair to die over this, wouldn’t it?

“I swear, I haven’t used any strange powers! What can I do to make you believe me? I’m willing to go through any test you want!”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Wait, what?

So, she thinks my eloquence alone is enough to warrant a beheading?

Case closed, off with the heretic’s head?

Is that it?

These damn medieval bastards!

“Please, just give me a chance…”

“And why should I?”

Okay, seriously, what the hell is going on?

“It’s already been proven that you didn’t use any special powers or miracles.”

Casimir had this smug smirk, as if she’d just delivered the joke of the century.

“…Really?”

“In a place blessed by Roklem, I’d know instantly if someone used a unique blessing.”

I sat there, stunned.

So, she knew all along I wasn’t pulling any tricks, yet still accused me of having a ‘blessed tongue’?

Is this really the commander of the Order’s Inquisitors?

That’s like telling a hardworking immigrant, “Wow, you’re surprisingly good at your job. Are you some kind of terrorist in disguise?”

“You’ve managed to touch my heart, and you didn’t even need to perform any miracles.”

Truth be told, I was just hellbent on proving you wrong.

Casimir’s eyes gleamed playfully.

“I’ve always wanted to prove my father wrong. I criticized his decision for settling in such distant place, questioning what he could possibly find there worth his while. I predicted he would regret it, but he remained adamant that he was right. He claimed he had found something incredible, which only fueled my annoyance.”

Is Antonio’s glowing recommendation coming back to bite me now?

“So, I wanted to see this ‘incredible’ thing for myself…”

Casimir rose and walked over to me.

“And I must say, seeing it with my own eyes, it truly is impressive.”

Wow, she’s even taller than I am.

And it’s not like Fabio is short either.

What is she, like 190 cm?

“Are you truly just a common serf?”

She peered down at me, equal parts amused and intrigued. “How can you speak so boldly in my presence, without a hint of fear?”

“…I’m not actually a serf.”

“What?”

“I gave up my land, my house, and all my possessions to become a free citizen.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then why should I be scared of you, Casimir?”

Now, with no home or belongings to my name, my life’s hanging by a thread.

“All I have left is my life. And what’s the worst that could happen? Dying?”

A hint of surprise flashed across Casimir’s face. “You’re not afraid of death?”

“Of course, I am,” I admitted. “But death’s just a part of the circle of life, right? My father died falling off a cliff, but that doesn’t mean I have to tremble every time I cross one.”

“And?”

“They say a brave man dies once, while a coward dies a thousand times. We all must face death eventually, so why spend your life in fear? That’s what I think, at least.”

“So, you stand here, not because you believe I won’t hurt you, but because you’ve accepted the inevitability of death?”

More like I was convinced I was going to die soon.

Casimir grabbed my chin, studying my face closely.

“Well, well, look at you, brave as a little pup.”

Did she seriously just… call me a dog?

What kind of parenting did Antonio subject his daughter to?!

“Hey, don’t give me that look. I meant it as a compliment.”

Then, she ruffled my hair like I was a puppy who just did something amusing.

Is head-patting not considered treating someone like a dog in desert tribe culture?

Nasir!

I won’t forgive you for this!

But, with the commander of the heretic inquisitors right in front of me, I had no choice but to bite my tongue and bear it.

“……Do you have any more questions for me?” I asked.

“No. I believe I’ve asked enough.”

“Then may I…?”

“We first need to determine the nature of the blessing you have received.”

And here we go.

Am I about to have a private meeting with the head priest or something?

I knew this was coming, and I thought I was ready for this…

But honestly, the thought of dying is still pretty terrifying. I feel like I’m suffocating.

“Why are you so tense all of a sudden? You seemed calm and collected when we first met.”

“What if I’m found to be entangled with some strange, evil god?” I blurted out. “What will happen to me then?”

Casimir smiled wryly and threw my own words back at me. “What’s the worst that could happen? Death? You told me it was useless to get worked up about it beforehand.”

“…Knowing something and actually experiencing it are two different things, aren’t they?” She added, understanding my concern. “Don’t stress too much. Our Order accepts those who have received heretical blessings but wish to convert.”

“I’m proof of that,” Casimir pointed to her silver-gray eyes as she continued, “Did Nasir ever tell you my story? See these silver-gray eyes? Pretty, aren’t they? And they work like a charm, even better than my old ones.”

But…weren’t they made with maggots?

“So, you don’t have to worry.”

“What… don’t I have to worry about?”

“No matter where a blessing is inscribed, if you cut it out and let the area regenerate, you’re good to go. A tongue, for example, would regrow in less than an hour.”

Casimir smiled gently, as if trying to ease my fears.

“As long as the blessing isn’t inscribed onto your soul, we can erase it completely, right?”

In my mind, I saw my tongue getting hacked off, maggots writhing their way into my mouth.

Yeah, I’d take execution over that, thanks.