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

#063Reader Mode

T/N: Update correction——> The God of Vaults, Horeum

#063

“Well, if that’s the case, what should I do? I am ignorant and foolish, so I’ll do as you say, Mr. Ter.”

“…You’re just going to do as I say without question? Without your own thoughts and judgment?”

“Yes.”

Isn’t that what faith is all about? Just going with it? Blind obedience?

Try telling the Lord Himself, “Hey, God, I think the whole ‘9th Commandment: Thou shalt not bear false witness’ thing could use some work.”

You’d get struck by lightning on the spot.

However, Tertius didn’t seem too pleased with my correct answer.

“How can you believe in me?”

What the…

“…Well, Mr. Ter, you’re an Apostle.”

Isn’t doubting God’s chosen Apostle kinda like doubting God Himself?

“Not every action of an Apostle is directly inspired by the Lord’s will. We can fight each other, and sometimes we’re even excommunicated for our mistakes.”

So, what am I supposed to do then?

If even Apostles can’t be fully trusted to represent God perfectly, what’s a goblin like me, with no Blessing of Order, supposed to do?

“Without the ability to see divine power, you can’t fully grasp God’s intent. Trusting me, an Apostle, means you’re putting your faith in me as an individual, not necessarily in the Lord.”

So how in the hell is a bastard who’s blind to the divine supposed to have faith in God?

Is it even possible to have genuine faith if you can’t directly perceive God’s signs?

Your skill at playing trap cards is truly excellent.

But I’m not about to walk into one that easily.

“…Is it wrong, then? To have faith in something you cannot see or hear? As you’ve said, I haven’t received the Blessing of Order, nor can I perceive the Lord’s revelations. Yet, I still believe in Him. It was the people who believed in the Lord that made me have faith in Him. Can’t that be enough?”

“…Fabio.”

“Mr. Ter. Honestly, trusting in others doesn’t come easily to me. I’m naturally a very wary person. But I want to believe. So…”

I put on my best ‘pitful puppy’ look, hoping to tug at his heartstrings.

“…Please don’t speak in such complicated terms.”

Yeah, simple serf ‘Fabio’ here didn’t understand a single thing you just said.

“Just tell me to trust you, that it’s alright to believe in you.”

I looked up at Tertius with sincerity in my eyes.

“…….”

He seemed momentarily speechless.

Makes sense.

‘No idea what you’re talking about but willing to follow blindly ㅠㅠ’ How do you reason with someone whose stance is ‘just tell me what to do’?

“Mr. Ter, do you have any bad intentions towards me?”

“…No.”

“Then, even if I can’t sense malice, it’s safe to trust you, right?”

There was a flicker of uncertainty in Tertius’s eyes.

“…Or do you intend to harm me even though I’ve done nothing wrong?”

You can’t really say that, can you?

“If that’s not the case, I’m more than willing to put my trust you, Mr. Ter.”

Bet you can’t find a reason to tell me not to trust you, huh? Forgot how to talk without your blessings as a crutch, so now you’re stuck without a comeback.

“…It’s not like you don’t want me to believe in you, right?” I pushed, laying on the innocence thick.

If you actually say I shouldn’t trust you, that would make you a discriminatory and narrow-minded bastard.

“Mr. Ter, please let me put my faith in you.”

“…Alright,” he finally conceded, sounding somewhat powerless.

I couldn’t keep the grin off my face.

And this grin wasn’t fake this time!

Got him!

He himself gave the green light to trust him!

“Mr. Ter…!”

I couldn’t help but feel giddy with joy.

Because what Ter said meant a lot to me.

He’s officially taken on the responsibility now!

From now on, if anything happens, I can just play the [Stupid Fabio doesn’t know what to do again so help me Tartarmon!] card and I’m good to go!

You see, those people who say stuff like ‘think for yourself’ or ‘make your own decisions’ are irresponsible bastards. They only say that because they don’t want to take responsibility.

Working under such bastards means any mistakes magically become ‘your fault’ due to your own ‘arbitrary judgment,’ setting you up as the scapegoat.

Real a*sholes….

Oops, my real emotions are peeking through, better not get lost in useless thoughts.

Tertius is awesome!

Excellent Tertius!

The sauciest of all the sauces, Mr. Tartar Sauce!

And he hasn’t brought up Adna today!

“…Actually, Adna doesn’t know we’re meeting for lunch today,” Tertius suddenly shared.

… Just as I was giving him silent praise on his restraint, he had to go and mention her.

But hey, it’s less obsessive than our first encounter, so there’s progress.

“So let’s hurry before Adna finds out about this.”

As if Adna gives a damn about my whereabouts, much less yours…

“Understood, Mr. Ter!” But I managed to keep my wide grin, keeping my sarcastic thoughts to myself.

Committing to the ‘blind trust’ meta meant I had no choice but to endure the Adna nonsense.

Let’s stay positive.

Yeah, let’s think about what’s for lunch today!

I hope it’s steamed trout!

“Shall we go have lunch together now?”

“…I need to change my clothes first.”

“Ah.”

…And with that, we detoured to the Reader Dormitory before heading to the dining hall.

Lucky for me, I was handed three sets of robes when first I arrived here, so I had backups waiting in my room.

“…I’ll wait outside,” Tertius announced as we reached my doorway.

“Wait, I actually need your help getting dressed.”

“Hm?”

“I need you to tie this for me.” I pointed towards my fascia.

Tertius seemed a bit put off for a moment but didn’t make a fuss since it was something the rules required.

“Then, excuse me.”

Once Tertius stepped inside, I closed the door behind us and turned the lock.

“…Why did you lock the door?”

“Oh, um, I was just following instructions to keep the door secured.”

Elamin had drilled into me the importance of always locking up.

He mentioned that an open door at night might invite an inspection from the patrol, checking if the room’s occupant is safely tucked in.

Makes you question their approach to security…

Well, we’re not exactly inmates or soldiers here.

Most residents here come from noble backgrounds, so it figures the rules are more guidelines than anything strict.

Regardless, I was told to always lock up unless I fancied a rude awakening from someone flashing a lantern in my face.

It’s broad daylight now, so it’s not a big deal…

But trying to remember to lock it only at night is a recipe for disaster.

“…Has anyone else been in this room?”

“Pardon? No, not really.”

I don’t really interact much with others to begin with.

“How are you finding life as a reader? Is it to your liking?”

“Well, even if you ask…”

I’m still trying to figure out what being a reader even means.

“…So far, I’ve mostly just been reading books, so it’s hard to say.”

I opted not to mention that I was pretty clueless about the whole reader role.

Admitting that would indirectly point fingers at Casimir for neglecting the instructions from her superiors.

And that could get Elamin in trouble.

Casimir facing backlash doesn’t concern me much, but Elamin is another story.

One golden rule I’ve picked up from my social ventures: it’s way more important not to rub your everyday supervisor the wrong way than to worry about some high-and-mighty boss you barely see.

“But I’m really enjoying life here at the Cathedral so far. I’m amazed every day that I get to experience all these wonderful things.”

“Is that so?”

“Mr. Ter, what should I do with this robe?” I asked, stripping off the sleeveless robe I was wearing and holding it out to him.

“I’ll take care of it.” Tertius replied, taking the robe and passing it through the space next to his arm.

But instead of appearing on the other side, the robe just vanished into thin air.

I couldn’t help but be impressed.

Ah, he’s got an inventory.

Apostles of Roklem get to tap into the powers of the gods under Him, which includes using something akin to an inventory.

I’m so jealous.

It’s Horeum, the God of Vaults, who has the power to bestow the ability to stash things away.

Officially, it’s called the [Blessing of the Vault], but players just call it an inventory.

Horeum’s symbolic color is turquoise.

Its holy site is located in the northeastern part of the empire.

You can use an inventory upon receiving Horeum’s blessing, but since he can revoke the blessing at any time, it’s best not to store anything important inside. If the Order brands you as a heretic, you’ll lose not only the inventory but also its contents.

That’s why heretic players preferred to capture Horeum’s priests and turn them into holy relics.

When multiple units possessing Horeum’s relics gather, they can store even larger items.

By forming a closed circle with their bodies, holding each other’s hands like they’re about to break into a dance, that circle becomes a magic door for items to go in and out of.

So, gather enough relics, and you could even tuck away a siege weapon or a sailing ship in your inventory.

Having this inventory isn’t just a convenience for resupply; it’s a game-changer in almost every strategy.

So, unless you’re on some no-inventory challenge, kidnapping Horeum’s priests to farm their relics is Strategy 101.

During battles, killing units with turquoise hair not only nets you their supplies and relics, but also their inventory, akin to killing two birds with one stone…

Oh no, I was thinking like a player again.

And right in front of an Apostle who’s practically an emotion radar…

I sneaked a peek at Tertius, wondering if he caught onto my nerdy daydreaming.

Seems like I got lucky; Tertius seemed too preoccupied with something else and didn’t notice.

But what’s got his attention?

I followed Tertius’s intense stare…

…Huh?

Why’s he zeroing in on my legs…?

“…When did you get that?”

Ah.

That’s when I remembered the garter’s existence.

“I received this on my very first day here.”

“…Casimir seems to have taken quite a liking to you.”

It’s probably surprising that a dog with a bad temper would gift me anything, even if it’s just a bone.

“I’m just grateful she thinks well of me.”

“…That doesn’t seem to be what you’re really feeling.”

Ugh…

This is precisely why I was dreading this lunch with Mr. Tartar Sauce.

I really can’t say anything.

Guess it’s time to deploy my secret weapon now.

“Is that so? I was trying to be sincere, in my own way…”

After a brief pause, I added, “Um…it’s kind of intimidating, but I think that’s what makes it so awe-inspiring.”

As I spoke, I conjured up the image of a Smilodon in my mind. Powerful and majestic. The kind of awe-inspiring presence men can’t help but respect.

What’s a Smilodon, you ask? A fierce prehistoric beast, better known as the saber-toothed tiger, famous for its enormous fangs.

Experts think Smilodons would use those dagger-like teeth to clamp down on their prey, essentially choking the life out of it.

We’re talking about a massive predator that tipped the scales at over 300kg!

Both formidable and majestic!

I didn’t specify who I was talking about, but I wasn’t lying either!

Every word I’m saying now contains 100% of my sincerity.

“Really?”

Fortunately, it seemed like this approach was working.

“…And how do you see me now?”

“Pardon, what was that?”

“Your current feelings about me, what are they?”

“Well, at first…you kind of scared me because you were so unfamiliar to me, but now I see you’re actually a very kind person. I just had the wrong impression,” I said, drawing on my feelings back to when I first saw a massive Burmese python at a reptile show.

Despite its intimidating size, the python was actually quite gentle and intelligent.

It’s so docile that kids often drape it around themselves for a cool photo op.

Plus, its skin has this unexpectedly pleasant feel.

“…And?”

What do you mean, ‘and’?

Isn’t that enough?

“Um… You’re handsome and…tall?”

Grasping for what he might want to hear, my words started tripping over themselves.

Sticking to the truth really narrows down my options.

“Besides that.”

What.

If there’s something specific you’re fishing for, throw me a hint here.

Because I’m drawing a blank here.

“…What do you think of this?”

Suddenly, Tertius grabbed my chin, bringing his face close to mine.

I froze for a second, my breath catching.

This situation…

This is exactly what Elamin warned me about this morning!

I quickly ran through the lesson in my head.

Key takeaway: when making eye contact, watch out for ‘blessings’!

Just as I was piecing together my response, I remembered—Tertius is an Apostle of Roklem.

I almost fell for the trap!

Upon reflection, this felt like another pop quiz, similar to the one I faced earlier.

But the real warning was about the Apostles of Ledeia.

Dodging the Apostles of Roklem would mean there’s something fishy about this goblin.

So, the answer I should go for here is…

“I’m feeling a bit nervous, but…” I met Tertius’s mint-green eyes without flinching and said, “I’m okay with whatever you decide to do to me… because you’re Mr. Ter.”

Anything an Apostle of Roklem does is, by extension, the will of the Lord.

One must welcome everything with open arms.

Let’s think back to that time when I went into a high-end hair salon that charged 50,000 won for a men’s haircut.

That anxious but hopeful feeling, entrusting myself to the stylist’s expertise, believing they’d do a good job no matter what…!

“…Fabio.”

T/N: Ah yes, ‘Fabio’s’ ultimate secret weapon: Gaslighting! Overpowered and can only be countered by [Retrograde]. ୧(๑•̀ヮ•́)૭