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

#054Reader Mode

#054

“I’ve heard there’s going to be a ceremony taking place next week during the worship service. It’s said to be bloodless. We could go together, if you’re interested.”

“A bloodless ceremony?”

“Yes, it’s a special ritual where no offerings are physically sacrificed. Instead, offerings are presented through song, dance, or even simple prayers.”

So, are all the other services… bloody?

In Conclude, rituals that don’t involve physical sacrifices don’t generate as many faith points.

I guess the Church of Order doesn’t see the need for many bloodless services since they have so many resources.

The amount of meat consumed by this entire Cathedral probably means a tremendous number of livestock are slaughtered daily. There would be no shortage of animals for offerings.

I wonder what kind of sacrifice Roklem prefers?

In the Dark Realm, there are various methods of offering sacrifices.

Any method that ‘destroys’ the offering is acceptable.

Burning it whole, letting it rot, decapitating it to bathe the altar in blood…

If there’s a symbolic animal that represents the god, feeding an offering to it is also a form of sacrifice. Feeding the offering to birds is known as a Bird Sacrifice, while offering it to insects is an Insect Sacrifice.

…Even when the Apostles consume the offerings themselves, it is considered a sacrifice.

Which is exactly why being on Mothergod’s radar is my nightmare. She has a preference for ‘eating’ as a method of sacrifice. And not just any snack, she’s into the ‘still alive’ kind…

So as her cult leader, you’d be constantly munching on living, wriggling things.

The thought that an accidental misplaced click could have made me her contractor sends chills down my spine.

Thank goodness that Happy God only accepts prayers as sacrifices.

Even if I somehow get connected to Hapenesus, they won’t demand anything from me other than prayers.

If it had been Mothergod, she’d have me running around like a lunatic catching even rats to gobble up, all in the name of earning faith points and biometric data. No, thank you.

Anyway.

Roklem would probably accept burnt offerings or blood sacrifices as usual.

Blood sacrifices might sound strange, but the spilling of beast’s blood is a common form of sacrifice in human culture. It’s frequently mentioned in the Old Testament of the Bible.

Originally, when livestock are slaughtered, isn’t there a process of bloodletting? It’s just that it’s done on an altar here.

For the offerings, they’d probably use cattle or sheep, right?

Imagining the process of cutting the throat of a living beast in front of the altar and draining its blood gave me goosebumps.

Of course, to the medieval crowd, it would be a normal sight….

I’m a 21st-century softie who’s never seen a beheaded corpse before except for fish at the market.

I can barely stomach watching live fish getting filleted, let alone a mammal meeting its maker with a blade.

So grateful Elamine didn’t take me to the service right away.

Seeing a cow get the guillotine treatment without any mental preparation would’ve had me fainting on the spot.

While I was deeply grateful for Elamin’s thoughtfulness, a question suddenly occurred to me.

…Elamin has no clue I’m not cut out for this medieval stuff, right?

In Elamin’s eyes, ‘Fabio’ is just a serf.

A serf who, until not too long ago, probably didn’t blink an eye at butchering livestock.

So why did Elamin decide a bloody ceremony was off-limits for me?

Because of my ‘allergy’ to divine power?

I decided to ask him. “What are the usual offerings in a worship service that isn’t bloodless?”

“…What we hold dear, the Lord also cherishes,” Elamin answered vaguely.

What we hold dear?

A serf would value cattle above all else, but others might have different values.

If there was something universally valued by everyone…

Could it be money…?

Is it because I’m a penniless serf with no private property that I can’t attend?

“If it’s something of value, could it be… wealth?” I asked.

Elamin shook his head in response to my question. “It’s something far more precious than riches. Without it, all the wealth in the world is meaningless.”

…What could be so priceless that all the money in the world couldn’t buy?

Health?

But how would one sacrifice their health?

Pulling all-nighters as sacrifices?

Elamin spoke up again, seeing my confusion. “Everyone values their body, for without it, you’re incapable of doing anything, aren’t you?”

“Um…yes?”

“That’s why the Lord is most pleased with offerings of one’s own body.”

……?

Human sacrifice?

Is Roklem accepting human offerings now…

“Ah, to offer one’s body doesn’t mean to offer one’s life. The Lord commands us to serve the Order until death, and a healthy, functioning body should be put to work.”

“But how then…”

“You’re only offering a part of your body. Gouge out your eyes or cut off your arm…”

I was speechless.

“The lost body part can later be regenerated through the Blessing of Healing. The offered body part is transformed into a holy relic.”

…That’s efficient.

“Before I received the Blessing of Order, this was one of the practices I understood the least. Of course, now it seems perfectly normal, but still, I tend to avoid bloody ceremonies. Perhaps because…” Elamin touched his eyes. “It brings back memories of when my eyes were gouged out…”

“Oh…”

“I suppose it’s because I’m weak-willed that Casimir had to be the one to pluck them out herself.”

No, having someone else do it would be even more horrifying.

Really.

“Regardless, such bloody ceremonies fill the chapel with an overpowering divine aura that might be very uncomfortable for you. But, if you really want to see it, I’ll see what I can arrange.”

“Oh, no! It’s okay. I appreciate the offer though.” I declined, horrified.

The last thing I wanted was front-row seats to someone being dismembered.

Damn, I forgot this is the Dark Realm. Normal rules need not apply.

Thinking back on it, those guys from the Order who claimed they’d only baptize desert-born after gouging out their eyes were also members of the Order.

Crazy bastards…

Unlike in the game, the Order being open to heretics doesn’t seem to have changed their fundamental nature as a bunch of crazed fanatics.

But then again, if you squint, it kind of makes sense…

Limbs grow back perfectly here with blessings.

Afterwards, these hacked-off parts are made into holy relics and put to good use.

And since the believer willingly offers their body, it would be categorized as ‘self-sacrifice’, which would be worth quite a few faith points.

So maybe self-mutilation here is a more rational, efficient, eco-friendly, and guilt-free version of sacrifice than slaughtering innocent animals.

A win-win situation for all involved…

From an environmental POV, it’s bizarrely pragmatic…

Rational….

What does it truly mean to be rational?

That’s when it dawned on me.

In the Dark Realm, could it be that the fanatics are the ones with a truly rational way of thinking?

This is a world where gods actually exist.

Denying their existence here is like being a flat-earther in an astronaut convention.

If I’m to continue living in this world, maybe I should embrace the fanatic mindset?

Adapting to the bloody ceremonies, adapting to the maggot healing blessings…

…Yeah, no. Let’s just live irrationally.

And just like that, I ditched any ideas of joining the rational fanatics’ club.

I’m trying to survive by pretending to be Fabio, not by becoming him.

What’s the point if I forget who I am?

Once Christmas passes…

I’ll be able to meet with the other players.

If a Concluder isn’t born on the day when the starry sky opens, the Church of Order will emerge victorious in the end.

Once the dust settles and the game’s done, it won’t matter if we reveal our identities to each other.

If there are 16 players, odds are a few are from Korea, right?

…I really hope that unhinged guy isn’t Korean.

I’m referring to that madman who’s still treating this nightmare like it’s just another level to beat, eager to become a cult leader, pledging allegiance to his Othergod, and seeking to bring the world to ruin.

I don’t know who he is, but that guy is definitely a psychopath.

How can anyone keep treating this as a game when it has become real?

In Conclude, offering up a sacrifice would pop up a notification like [Burnt Offering Made. Faith Points +385]. But now that the game has become our reality, it means literally setting someone on fire.

Listening to their screams as they turn to ash…

Just thinking about it made my stomach churn.

And there goes my craving for another plate of steamed trout.

Elamin seemed to have lost his appetite too, sitting silently, rubbing the corners of his eyes.

Dinner wrapped up on a somewhat somber note, and then Elamin got up, offering to walk me back to the library.

Winter was in full swing, but with the sun high overhead, the chill was bearable.

“I should have some free time next week. I’ll give you a proper tour of the Cathedral or the main building then,” Elamin offered apologetically.

But the one who should be apologizing was me.

I’m sorry for thinking you were racist against goblins without understanding the full story…

I offered a silent apology to Elamin.

He really was just trying to look out for me….

From now on, I should assume there’s a valid reason when something isn’t being explained to me.

As Elamin handed me a thick cloak, mentioning how it’d get chilly after sunset, I felt disgusted with myself.

Seriously, what a trash personality to be so quick to doubt others…

There’s a saying that in the eyes of a pig, only pigs can be seen, and in the eyes of Buddha, only Buddha can be seen. Guess that means if you’re always expecting the worst, maybe it’s time to check the mirror.

It’s a nudge to remember that while caution is wise, excessive suspicion is not.

Clutching my woolen cloak, I stepped back into the library’s silence, my footsteps echoing in the quiet like whispers.

… Wow, this guy is still sleeping.

He hadn’t moved an inch since I’d left, face-planted on the table in what looked like the world’s most uncomfortable nap. He’s going to have a terrible crick in his neck when he wakes up.

How exhausted must he be to sleep like the dead?

I was heading back to my old spot when I decided to snag a seat closer to the window instead. Just a few seats away, really, and a simple glance up would let me keep an eye on the sleeping figure.

…Kind of hard not to watch, honestly.

Despite my best efforts to get lost in my book, my eyes kept straying off to him. After the hour bell chimed for the third time, he hadn’t so much as twitched.

It wasn’t even 4 PM yet, but with winter’s short days, the sun had already dipped, stretching long shadows across the room.

He’s not… dead, is he?

After almost five hours of stillness, I was genuinely concerned. So, I made some noise on purpose, scraping my chair loudly across the floor and letting my book drop on the table with a significant thud. If that didn’t wake him up, what would? Yet, nothing from him. Not a stir.

…Is he even breathing?

Leaning in, I tried to check for any sign of life, but his armor was in the way, making it impossible to see his chest rise and fall. It looked like I’d need to do the old hand-under-the-nose trick to be sure.

What should I do if he’s not breathing?

“Excuse me, are you okay?” I reached out, giving his arm a gentle shake, and he groaned.

He’s alive. Thank god.

Relieved, I was just about to dive back into my book when a weird sense of déjà vu stopped me.

Why does the back of his head seem so…familiar?

It felt like I’d seen it somewhere before…

As the man began to stir, lifting his head slowly, everything clicked.

Ah.

That sense of déjà vu made perfect sense now.

I’d spent nearly 200 hours staring at the back of that head.

It’s Athanas…

The protagonist of Heretic Slayer, Inquisitor Athanas.

Well, technically not an Inquisitor yet, huh?

He looked much younger than his in-game character.

It’s about 8 years earlier, so that makes sense…

Athanas blinked, his dark blue eyes catching mine. I realized I was holding my breath without meaning to.

Crash

In a sudden burst of movement, Athanas shot up from his seat, sending his chair clattering to the floor.

Damn, that scared the crap out of me.

What the hell is wrong with him?

Was he shocked to find out he’d slept into the evening?

“…Did I fall asleep?”