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

#095Reader Mode

#095

Let’s take a deep breath and think this through logically.

Sure, the person who brought up this single stroke problem is definitely a ‘player’, but that doesn’t mean Fabio’s automatically one too.

Maybe ‘Fabio’ just stumbled across the problem somewhere and thought it’d be a good idea to write it down!

I did mention that I’ve been mulling over this problem lately. It’s not totally crazy to think that Fabio might’ve just overheard someone else talking about it.

Yeah, the player could totally be some rando that Fabio ran into!

Plus, let’s be honest, at first glance doesn’t Fabio just seem like an extra background NPC? Even if there’s only one thing that makes him stand out…

…like the fact that he’s dating Athanas.

Hmm…

Okay, so I might still be screwed here, but there’s a tiny glimmer of hope. There’s still some wiggle room for plausible explanations.

…What if Fabio’s just an ordinary NPC who, by some weird coincidence, ended up dating Athanas?

Obviously, any player who catches wind of this juicy gossip will become curious about Fabio.

They’ll think: is Fabio some shameless thirsty player who thinks it’s totally okay to date a game character the second he possesses a body? Or is he just an innocent little NPC who never had a role in the original story?

They tossed this brain teaser at him to get to the bottom of it.

And of course, they had to ask Fabio other questions too, just to be sure.

Because if not being able to solve this single stroke problem was all it took to get your Earthling card revoked, we’d have less than a billion people on the planet.

But lo and behold, Fabio really was just a clueless NPC all along.

So naturally, he was drawing a blank when they asked him to solve it.

The ‘player’ took one look at Fabio’s confused face, decided he was an NPC, and took off. But poor Fabio was still scratching his head over the problem long after they left.

When you think about this scenario, it wouldn’t be strange for Fabio to still be hung up on trying to solve this thing.

So, do I need to come up with some fake backstory for the ‘player’ who decided Fabio was an NPC?

No, there’s no need to overthink it. The more details I add, the more potential for inconsistencies.

It’s possible that the ‘player’ used an artifact that obscured Fabio’s perception, so it wouldn’t be strange even if his memory is hazy.

If that’s the case…

…No, that’s not what’s important right now.

I rubbed my forehead vigorously, trying to untangle my thoughts.

Let’s remember why I started searching for other players to begin with.

My ultimate goal is to trade information. I started this whole nonsense to ask any sane players if they believe the current state of the Order is acceptable.

Obviously, I can’t reveal my identity as a player and strut around the Cathedral boldly while guys like the ‘Distorted One’s Servant’ are lurking about…

But I shouldn’t forget that the other person’s taking a risk by putting themselves out there too.

Trying to keep all my cards close to my chest while prying into theirs isn’t exactly a recipe for trust.

If the other person seems like a reasonably sane player… I should make an effort to talk to them.

With that in mind, I pored over the wax tablet’s contents again, my eyes searching for any hidden messages or secret codes. But there was nothing. Just the answer that kept the problem-solver’s identity under wraps.

…Still, the mere fact that they bothered to write an answer at all… that’s gotta count for something, right? It’s like they’re extending an olive branch, trying to communicate.

But if that was the case, wouldn’t they have left some way to get in touch?

I made up my mind to get to the bottom of who gave this answer.

My gut reaction was to ask the kids. But I had just made this big, dramatic promise yesterday that I would never, ever ask who wrote what.

Having to say two different things with one mouth…

So, I came up with a plan. I deliberately brought the wax tablet with me when I went to play with the kids. And I made a huge fuss about how incredible the answer was.

“This is groundbreaking! A total revolution in mathematics!” I gushed, waving the tablet above my head for all to see. “I never imagined it could be solved like this. It gave me chills the moment I saw the answer!”

I put on my best dramatic performance, declaring that I’d treasure this wax tablet forever. But suddenly, I switched gears and became all gloomy, hugging the tablet to my chest.

“I just can’t believe I don’t know the genius behind this incredible answer! I really want to ask, but I did promise yesterday not to ask who wrote it…”

I kept heaving these deep, mournful sighs until finally, the kids cracked. They glanced at each other and honestly told me who wrote the answer.

“Actually… we asked the math teacher for help,” they confessed. They tried their best but got stuck. So, they went to the math teacher, who brought back the tablet with the answer.

The math teacher… probably one of those volunteer priests who teaches here.

Could this priest be a player?

Or some kind of Euler-level genius NPC?

But if he’s a player, why would he bother volunteering here?

While I was lost in thought, one particularly eager kid even went and brought the math teacher over to me.

I was pretty flustered, but tried to play it cool.

“…Are you the one who came up with this incredible answer?” I asked, trying to sound excited.

“No, I can’t take credit for this.” The priest cleared his throat and admitted that he also couldn’t solve the problem, so he asked someone else.

“Well, who’s this mystery person then? I’d love to express my gratitude…”

“I’m not entirely sure who it is.”

“Pardon? What do you mean…”

“I took the problem to the library. And let me tell you, you wouldn’t believe how many people rushed over to solve it.”

…There are that many people in the library?

Isn’t it usually a ghost town?

I was a bit skeptical for a second, but then I remembered that when people say library, they usually mean the ‘main library’.

It is said to be the largest library in the entire Empire.

“When someone who was very eager about solving the problem began to struggle, another person jumped in, only to get stuck as well… Soon, people who were said to be well-versed in mathematics joined the fray, eager to tackle the problem. My goodness, I had never witnessed such a gathering in the math room! I had long abandoned any hope of solving it myself and had my own reasons for visiting the library so I left. However, upon my return to the math room, there it was—the answer, boldly displayed on the wall. This is just a copy of that.”

One of the people in that math room must be the player behind this, right?

I frowned at the thought. The number of suspects had just suddenly multiplied, and it was very possible for the player to easily pass the credit to someone else.

It will be impossible to identify them in that case.

The priest’s eyes widened in amazement. “It’s incredible, really! I needed to have the solution explained to me three times before I grasped it, yet you grasped it instantly. You, my child, have a true gift…”

He encouraged me to pursue higher education, saying it usually takes six years, maybe even ten, to graduate. But with my mathematical aptitude, he believed I could achieve it in six.

I fought to keep a straight face, replying with a stiff smile, “So, how should I go about uncovering who solved this?”

“Head to the math room. Someone there is likely to have the answer you seek.”

“And where might this math room be?”

The priest looked at me like I’d just committed the ultimate sin. “Oh my, surely you’ve visited the library before?

“Well, I haven’t been at the Cathedral for very long…”

“The library is a place that anyone doing research must visit in their life! There’s a saying that if an answer doesn’t come out of the imperial library, no one on this land knows it!” he declared, launching into a passionate speech about the library being the holy grail for scholars. I had to cut him off before he circled back to the perks of a university degree.

“Thank you! If it’s such a wonderful place, it sounds like the perfect spot for a date.”

“Pardon? But didn’t you mention your lover is a holy knight? I’m unsure if he would appreciate the library. Allow me to guide you instead…”

“Oh, but the most important part of a date is being with your special someone! He always says wherever I am is his happy place.”

I added in a soft voice, pretending to be shy.

“…And, you know, I feel the same way.”

The priest chuckled awkwardly, clearly out of his depth with my lovey-dovey talk. He made a quick exit, leaving me to let out a sigh of relief.

I need to dial back on the academic enthusiasm.

I reminded myself, rubbing the goosebumps on my arm.

More importantly, I should check out main library building now.

Elamin’s warning about not going there alone echoed in my mind.

He said it’s a hub for all kinds of aggressive characters who aren’t even there to read, from pushy evangelists trying to convert you to guys who give you a ‘blessing’ and then demand money for it.

If I, someone who hasn’t received the Blessing of Order, go to a place like that alone, who knows what might happen…

…Looks like I have no choice but to bring Athanas along.

I threw that out there as a random excuse, but it seems like I’m actually going on a library date.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Athanas grabbed my hand tightly as we approached the main library. “Don’t let go once we’re inside,” he said, his eyes intense.

…Why?

So it looks like we’re actually on a date?

No, Athanas is just being diligent about our group project.

I grimaced inwardly, but obediently nodded, trying to ignore my stomach during flips at the thought of two grown men holding hands.

To be fair, here, no one would bat an eye at two guys holding hands.

Same-sex couples were completely normal in this world. No one even gave it a second thought.

…I kind of hate that too, actually.

It’s supposed to be the [Press Players’ Trigger Button Operation], but it feels like only my buttons are being pressed.

Well, I’m a player too after all…

But as we stepped into the library, my discomfort about hand-holding vanished.

Rather, I didn’t even have time to feel it.

Holy shit.

The place was jam-packed and noisy as hell. It was like a dozen street performers decided to have a battle of the bands right in the library.

“Athanas, is the library always this…” I started to ask, but Athanas suddenly pulled me close.

“…If you see a turtle, don’t pity it. Just keep walking,” he murmured cryptically.

Turtles? Is that some kind of local slang for beggars or something?

And what do you mean by ‘don’t’ pity it…

Before I could ask, a thunderous voice cut through the mayhem.

“In the name of the Lord, I rebuke you, foul and accursed beast!”

My head involuntarily whipped around toward the commotion.

Ah.

Wow, there’s actually a turtle.

Standing tall over this large land turtle—its shell easily the size of a manhole cover—was a priest. The turtle stretched its shaky neck up to look at him.

“To atone for your sins, show me the records of the Lord! Guide me to the ‘Book of Small Coastal Beasts’! Refuse, and you’ll face eternal torment in both body and soul!”

The priest drove his point home with a kick to the turtle’s head. I gasped, stunned by the blatant animal cruelty.

What the hell?

But before I could react further, Athanas gently turned my face towards his chest, blocking my view.

“…The God of Records rebelled against the Lord,” he whispered. “These turtles were his holy beasts. This is their punishment. Don’t interfere; just keep walking.”

But still…

Even if the turtles served a rebel god, did they really deserve to be treated like this?

Is it really okay to kick a poor animal like that?

…Of course, if the turtle was human, it’d probably be burned at the stake instead.

Compared to that, getting kicked while working seemed almost lenient.

Besides, holy beasts aren’t just regular animals.

I got it, logically. But it still felt wrong.

…I was the only one who reacted earlier, wasn’t I?

My heart was racing.

I felt ridiculous for being so shocked by something like this.

At this rate, if I see someone actually die, I’d probably lose it completely.

I decided to focus on anything else, just to keep my mind occupied.

“Athanas, why did the God of Records rebel?”

From the name alone, I’d expect a god like that to be all about order…

“The God of Records was greedy. He believed anything recorded was his forever.”

“And then what happened?”

“He secretly kept destroyed records, insisting nothing should ever be erased. For that, he was executed,” Athanas concluded grimly.

…Executed? For that?

This sounded more like a purge than a rebellion. Doubts flared in my mind, but I kept them to myself. I didn’t want to commit blasphemy right in front of Athanas.

I shouldn’t reveal that I’m a goblin.

But those forbidden thoughts kept swirling.

Tartar sauce could use Oblivion, which meant the God of Oblivion served under the God of Order.

Choosing oblivion over records…

I kept my mouth shut to avoid spewing any blasphemous words, but my mind spun out of control.

What’s the point of keeping order if you can just delete records?

If past sins can be wiped away, how can anyone be held accountable for their actions?

How can oblivion coexist with order in the first place?

“Athanas…” I began, but his resolute gaze stopped me cold. I remembered then – in the game, Heretic Slayer Athanas never doubted the order he served, even as it crumbled around him. He was the Sword of Order, the Guardian of Order, the Servant of Order

Is there any point in asking?

Swallowing my questions, I tried a different approach. “…Thank you for the warning just now. I almost looked strange for a moment there.”

It was all I could say. But the uncomfortable lump in my throat refused to go away.