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

#042Reader Mode

#042

As I soaked in the warm bath, all sorts of random thoughts crossed my mind.

Could other players, swayed by the Order, be faking ignorance like me? Are they genuine believers or sly actors? Maybe they’re conspiring with other players, feigning allegiance to spread lies?

This made me wonder if the advice to avoid meeting other players was actually a ploy to hide such deceit.

…Now that I’m not immediately worried about dying, I’m coming up with up all sorts of wild theories.

I splashed my face with water, trying to shake off the overthinking.

Get a grip.

Why am I even entertaining the thought of getting involved?

The more I mull it over, the less sense it makes. Why would the Order show me any kindness or be humane?

Would roughing up one player really turn others against them?

As long as what they do to me doesn’t leak out, does it really matter?

Does anyone even know that Fabio is with the Order now?

Maybe Antonio?

They could easily lie to Antonio about my well-being though.

And let’s not forget the Order possesses the power of [Oblivion].

Even if Antonio does come to see me, they could just pull a fast one with illusions or Oblivion to avoid raising any flags.

With that kind of convenient cleanup abilities at their disposal…

How would you handle a potential Othergod contractor who wanders in of their own accord and has an unknown number of restrictions placed on him?

If I were them, I’d isolate and confine them until I fully understood those restrictions.

No, seriously.

This isn’t just gamer logic; it’s a decision grounded in reality.

Imagine interrogating a heretic for information, and suddenly they’re brain-dead from some mental mine trap. Considering that missing this information could doom the world, the risk of one heretic becoming disabled seems negligible, doesn’t it?

After all, they’re just an outsider to the Order.

For the Order, sacrificing an outsider might just be part of the job, especially if it increases the odds of saving the world.

Honestly, they probably wouldn’t even care, not seeing it as a sacrifice at all.

To them, it’s like getting a chance to contribute to the Order.

Isn’t it a great honor for a heretic outsider to get even a little closer to the Realm of the Order?

That must be why those fanatics with that mindset have left me alone so far…

It must be because they’re really at ease about it?

What do they have to gain from me, anyway?

And that’s probably why even the sixth Apostle is off daydreaming about his unrequited crush.

If they were really up to their necks in work, would they send an Apostle and a Knight Commander just to escort me? They’d be more likely to say, “We don’t know what to make of this one, so let’s just lock them up in the underground dungeon for now and figure it out later.”

Looking at it this way, my heavy heart felt a bit lighter.

Right, if I were in their shoes, I’d probably let some small fry off the hook for a good chuckle if he showed up too.

Isn’t that how one would think from their perspective?

Think about it – what if a Galactic Union suddenly announced that Earth’s protection period against invasions had ended, and 16 alien civilizations sent notifications that they would invade?

So Earth on high alert, goes into full alien-hunting mode, and receives this tip-off about a suspected illegal alien hiding out in the countryside.

They find him because he’s an alien, but what if he had been farming in a greenhouse by day and learning Hangul from the village head at night for the past 6 months on Earth?

And when confronted about being an alien, he just breaks down crying, blurting out “I love Korea!…I want to be Korean! Long live South Korea!”

Honestly, I’d probably just let the guy go in that case.

Staying clueless seems to be working in my favor.

Yeah, let’s keep playing dumb.

With that thought, I wrapped up my bath.

Elamin had set out a whole ensemble for me in a basket.

I found white linen underwear, a simple chemise, a long wool tunic reaching my ankles with a hooded cape. There were also long socks with leather straps to keep them up, and a dark blue scarf-like belt, likely the fascia.

I couldn’t help but be impressed by the Church of Order’s generosity as I dressed up in the reader’s attire.

To think I get all this for free just for switching jobs!

This tunic alone would be a small fortune at the market, at least ten silver coins.

And these socks – so plush and well-made, easily worth a silver coin each. Tying the socks below my knees, I sighed.

Haa…after living as a serf for half a year, I’m getting emotional over socks.

Antonio used to knit socks in his spare time, selling ten pairs for a silver coin but often gifting them as thanks to villagers who lent a hand.

I remember suggesting to Antonio that we could knit fancier socks to earn more, but he insisted, “People need something to wear on their feet.”

Serfs would just work barefoot if they didn’t want to wear out their clothes…

In our village, when it got hot, it wasn’t unusual to see folks tending fields in nothing but their underwear and bare feet.

I always stuck to wearing shoes, wondering how they weren’t worried about getting infected by Clostridium bacteria¹T/N: “Clostridium” isa genus of anaerobic, Gram-positive bacteria that inhabit soils and the intestinal tract of animals, including humans. There are several species of this bacteria but the most common illnesses caused by them are C.Diff, Tetanus, Botulism, and gangrene. or something.

But with Antonio handing out socks regularly, people started wearing them in the fields.

It wasn’t exactly a pleasant sight to see people working in just underwear and socks though…

It makes me wonder how Antonio managed to adapt to being a bell ringer in a backwater village after leaving the civilized Cathedral life.

Then again, I managed to survive as a serf, and I’m from the 21st century.

Trying to tie the fascia around my waist was confusing, so I just slung it over my arm as I stepped outside. Elamin was there waiting.

“Have you been waiting for me all this time?” I asked.

“No, I came a little early thinking you’d be done right about now. Don’t worry, I didn’t wait too long.”

“Um, could you show me how to tie this? I tried myself but couldn’t do it properly….”

Handing over the fascia, Elamin grabbed it with a warm smile.

“Of course, the fascia is meant to be tied by someone else. You can’t really do it alone.”

…So I need someone else to tie my belt every day?

That felt a bit awkward.

“Isn’t that inconvenient?”

“It’s meant to be,” Elamin replied. “It’s like a promise to not let your conduct slip.”

But it looks like it’d come loose with just a bit of slouching or running around.

Leave it to the religious zealots to add unnecessary meaning to a piece of clothing.

Aren’t there some ceremonies or rituals where you have to recite prayers while buttoning up or something?

Glad that’s not a thing…

“But what if there’s no one around to help?”

“There is a simpler way to tie it yourself in unavoidable circumstances. But walking around like that in the Cathedral wouldn’t be proper.”

“And if it comes undone?”

“I’ll re-tie it, so don’t worry.”

Wow, this sounds incredibly annoying and burdensome.

Ah, could the inconvenience of asking for re-ties be meant to encourage good posture?

Guess that’s one way to keep the unruly clergy on their toes.

I slowly started to see the logic behind the fascia, even if it seemed overly symbolic.

“There you go, all set now,” Elamin said.

“…I don’t think I really understood just from watching.”

“Haha, don’t worry. You don’t have to get it perfectly right away.”

So I’ll need to learn it eventually?

The thought of tying someone else’s belt daily already felt tiresome.

Upon arriving at the readers’ building, Elamin pointed to a room at the end of the hallway on the second floor. “Normally two people share a room, but Fabio, you’ll be using this room by yourself.”

That’s a win for me.

Sharing a room with another noble reader would have made it obvious that something was off, so they probably gave me a single room for that reason. But as a modern person who values privacy, I was simply happy to have my own space.

“Let me know if you need anything after getting settled.”

“It’s fine, thank you. Having my own room is more than enough for me!”

I truly meant that. Up until not too long ago, I was using a single box as storage, a table, and a chair. Why would I fuss about not having a sofa or a desk?

Opening the door with a smile, I found Commander Casimir already inside, tapping on the room’s walls with the hilt of her sword.

Casimir, busy with whatever she was doing, continued without looking over.

“…Commander Casimir?”

“Ah, Fabio. Finished with your bath, I see?” Casimir finally turned, her gaze sweeping over me, a flicker of approval lighting up her eyes. “The reader’s garb suits you quite well.”

“…May I ask what you’re doing right now?”

Casimir paused, her hand lingering on the wall. “Oh, I’m ensuring the blessings in this room are still intact.”

“Blessings?”

“Soundproofing, cold resistance… that sort of thing.”

Blessings for soundproofing? That’s something.

If it were modern times, they’d make a fortune blessing high-end luxury apartments plagued by endless noise complaints.

“Might be a good idea to bless the fascia too… But for now, take a seat,” she said casually, her sword now resting beside her as she smoothly locked the door with a soft click.

The sudden locking of the door sent a shiver down my spine. “Um, the door…?”

“The soundproofing blessing only works when it’s securely bolted,” she explained.

Okay, I get that, but why are you locking the door while still inside?

It’s terrifying when the Inquisition’s Knight Commander does something like this.

Imagine the chief of the secret police locking up a soundproof room and telling you it’s for privacy. You can’t help but wonder what’s next.

“Did you know what Antonio planned to give you?” Casimir’s tone was casual, but her eyes searched mine intently.

Are you going to say it’s not something a heretic like me should have?

“…I don’t know anything about it, except that it’s a blessed item.” I replied.

Casimir reached into her cloak, pulling out a brass disc slightly larger than the palm of her hand. “This is an astrolabe, also known as a star clock.”

Ah.

Right, that gadget. A tool used to tell time by the position of the stars.

I’ve seen a massive one near the bell tower, but this one’s portable.

In this era, any item with fine craftsmanship must be expensive.

“This relic is extraordinary. It was consecrated by the Saint himself during the archbishop’s ordination.”

Wait, Antonio was an archbishop?

My eyes widened in amazement.

He’s more influential than I thought…

Casimir placed the astrolabe in my hand. “Blessed by Roklem, it tells time even in starless places.”

As she spoke, the astrolabe’s hand moved ever so slightly, indicating the time.

It moves without gears or batteries….!

Is this… the power of a blessing?

But, when it comes down to it, it’s basically just a clock, right?

In this era, sure, it might seem like out of this world tech…no some divine innovation, making it super valuable and mystical. But to me? It’s kind of underwhelming.

Coming from a time where GPS satellites can pinpoint your exact location via satellites orbiting Earth, a clock just doesn’t cut it.

Regenerating a plucked eyeball is much more impressive.

But perhaps it’s for the best.

If it were some insanely useful item, giving it back to Casimir would have been a bloody waste.

Good thing it’s not that useful.

“And this astrolabe, filled with the immense sanctity accumulated through the archbishop’s daily prayers, can create a sanctuary if anyone, even non-archbishops, recites the proper prayer.”

What?

I was completely baffled by Casimir’s explanation.

“Um, even for someone like me who doesn’t know much, this sounds too much….”

“It is an extremely precious item.”

Antonio…!!

Has he lost his mind?

Giving something so precious like this to a mere serf?

He’s definitely gone senile.

Seriously.

It’s like a head monk heading off on a pilgrimage and getting handed a small gold Buddha statue from the Goryeo dynasty, a literal national treasure, all nicely wrapped up for the road.

He should have just given knitted socks instead…

“Um, I-I really can’t accept something like this.”

“You should have refused it then.”

“I did refuse! But Antonio insisted, even entrusting it to Nasir to give to me….”

“Then he must think you need it. Just accept it.”

“No, it’s too valuable and precious for someone like me….” I protested.

Hesitantly, I held it out to her.

“Please, Casimir, you take it.”

“…Why are you giving it to me? It’s yours, isn’t it?”

“You could keep it safe.”

“Planning to use me as a safe keeper?” She arched an eyebrow.

“If you would agree to it.”

Casimir let out a light chuckle, a sly grin on her face. “So, how do you plan on paying for this service?”

“…As you’re well aware, I currently don’t have anything to offer right now,” I admitted.

No seriously, you’re trying to squeeze a coin out of a beggar, you bastard.

Is she eyeing my reader’s salary already?

It’s like trying to extract blood from a stone.

Casimir leaned back, her playful smirk still in place. “If you have nothing, how about paying with your body?”

I scrunched my brow, confused.

What’s she trying to pull with this lopsided deal…

A knight’s daily wage is at least two silver coins, and for a knight commander, it’s measured in gold coins.

“You don’t like that idea?”

“It’s not about liking or not… it just doesn’t make sense. How could a serf’s wage ever match up to a knight commander’s daily rate?”

“Well, about the cost… I could give you a discount. If I like how you do it, I might even throw in a bonus.”

So no discount if she’s not impressed. Great.

I wasn’t foolish enough to fall for such an ambiguous verbal agreement and ruin my life.

“…Let me propose something else.” I suggested cautiously.

“Oh? What do you have in mind?”

“For as long as you keep the astrolabe, let’s say its storage fee is ‘the right to show it off to others’.”

“What?” Casimir seemed genuinely confused.

“…How does that benefit me? Not even the right to use it in emergencies, but just to show it? You want me to go around bragging about it?”

“Yes, exactly that.”

Casimir’s frown deepened a bit. “The more valuable the item, the safer it is when its whereabouts are unknown. Announcing that I have it would only increase the cost of safekeeping it.”

“But isn’t that risk worth it?” I challenged, trying to sway her.

“For mere bragging rights?”

“Well, considering it’s Archbishop Antonio’s astrolabe…”

I was banking on the astrolabe’s unique design, likely custom-made for the archbishop’s ordination ceremony.

In this era, mass-producing identical items is harder than precise craftsmanship.

“If someone is familiar with Antonio, they’d recognize this as his item, correct?” I prodded.

“…And?”

“You were talking about Mr. Antonio when we first met, right? Those hypocrites who criticized you for blowing things out of proportion while proclaiming to honor Antonio’s wishes are his acquaintances, aren’t they?”

Casimir stayed silent, so I took that as a yes and kept going.

“If you, Casimir, were to attempt to publicize Mr. Antonio’s contributions, even for the greater good, wouldn’t those same people try to stop you? They would assert themselves as protectors of Antonio’s will, spouting lines like, ‘I don’t believe Antonio would have desired this,’ or something along those lines, wouldn’t they?”

I held up the astrolabe for emphasis. “That’s when you show them this!”

“…You want me to lie that Antonio gave this to me?”

“No? Just showing it should be enough. Let them draw their own conclusions.”

Casimir eyed me thoughtfully.

“…What if my father becomes angry, thinking I claimed it as my own?”

“If word of this reaches the frontier village, it means spreading Antonio’s legacy was effective.”

I returned the astrolabe to her.

“Since when did Mr. Antonio care about your anger while doing what’s right? He did it because it was the right thing to do.”

“…I see.”

“Do what you believe is right, Casimir. Don’t worry about what Antonio might think.”

“Haha.” A laugh, light and liberating, escaped her.

[SYSTEM: ‘Knight Commander Casimir’ has been deeply moved by your words!]

I was startled by the sudden system notification.

[SYSTEM: A new chapter has been added to the achievement of ‘Miracle of the Silver Tongue’]

[SYSTEM: Your rank has increased ever so slightly.]

…She was moved by that?

Well, it’s a good thing, but…

I looked up from the system notification to Casimir, who was now smiling warmly at me.

“Fabio, you are…”

A genius, right?

“Perhaps I should cut out that tongue of yours now.”

“…Pardon?”