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

#117Reader Mode

#117

I didn’t want to meet anyone who worshipped the ‘Distorted One’ or any Othergod for that matter.

But I need information.

“What’s the Prophet like?” I asked, trying to sound curious.

Andrea’s voice was thick with reverence. “They are the Lord’s Apostle, entrusted with the mission to restore order to this world.”

I feigned surprise, widening my eyes in mock awe. “An Apostle, you say? That’s incredible. May I have the privilege of knowing their revered name?”

“…If the Prophet wills it, you’ll find out.”

So, even the name is a closely guarded secret?

I briefly considered using ‘Forced Persuasion’ to drag it out of him, but I quickly discarded the idea. There was no guarantee Andrea even knew the Prophet’s real name.

If I were in his shoes, I would feed false intel to any infiltrating unit.

That way, even if they were caught, the trail would go cold, leading nowhere near the organization.

In Conclude, the survival of the ‘Cult Leader Unit’ was all that mattered. If that unit died, it was game over, no matter how many followers were left. That’s why infiltration units were typically ordered to sacrifice themselves rather than return, even if they succeeded in their mission. The more someone obsessed over winning, the more they clung to their own survival—often to the point of paranoia.

And if they wielded the power of distortion? Concealing their identity and appearance would be easy.

No, getting the Prophet’s name or appearance didn’t matter. What I needed was to understand their communication methods, how orders were passed down. With that information, I could roughly estimate the number of units inside the Cathedral and how they operated…

“You must understand, Fabio,” Bishop Andrea leaned in, his voice heavy with solemnity. “There are wicked people within these very walls who would stop at nothing to destroy the order we’ve labored so tirelessly to protect. Athanas is one of them.”

His gaze darkened as he added, “If those malicious individuals were to find out the Prophet’s true identity, they would do everything in their power to end their life.”

That’s because that scumbag bastard deserves it.

The bishop’s gentle hand brushed a strand of hair from my face. “Fabio, no matter what happens, you mustn’t tell anyone you’ve had the honor of meeting them. Do you understand?”

Andrea’s concern felt sincere and protective, as if he genuinely cared about my well-being. It should’ve been comforting, but it wasn’t. My stomach churned.

“…I understand. I won’t say a word, no matter what.”

Andrea’s shoulders relaxed, and a faint smile tugged at his lips. “Good. I believe you.”

Just then, a system notification flashed before my eyes, blocking my vision.

[Andrea’s words are incredibly convincing!

You are now determined to keep the secret at all costs!

If forced to reveal the truth, you’d rather choose death instead.]

[SYSTEM: Due to the effect of ‘The Whole World Is Beneath Oneself,’ the ‘Distortion’ is provided as text.]

…If I can’t keep the secret, they expect me to kill myself?

I glanced down, noticing the purple snake slowly slithering out from Andrea’s sleeve. Its eyes gleamed with an eerie awareness, far beyond mere animal instinct.

Is Andrea bound by the same suicidal compulsion?

Security maintained by the threat of suicide if you even think of revealing the truth?

Compared to this, ‘Oblivion’—where people just forget the secret entirely—almost seems merciful.

I guess using forced persuasion to get information is completely off the table.

I’d have to tread carefully, asking only what ‘Fabio’ would naturally want to know.

“When do I get to meet the Prophet? If I’m going to avoid Athanas’ suspicion, I need a believable reason for being wherever I’m supposed to be.”

“You needn’t worry about that. Just go about your usual routine. The Prophet will find you.”

“…The Prophet’s coming to me? Without telling me when?”

“Precisely.”

Shit.

So, this guy’s going to stalk me from the shadows and pop up when I least expect it?

Great. How the hell am I supposed to avoid that?

“And how will I know who the Prophet is?”

“They will reveal himself to you.”

So, if I suspect someone, I should play dumb and act like I don’t know?

This bastard’s thorough, I’ll give him that.

But for the one being tested, it’s nerve-wracking. You can’t avoid or prepare for something you can’t even see coming.

“Fabio,” Andrea’s tone softened as if sensing my unease, “there’s no need to fret. When the time comes, I’m sure you’ll make just as strong an impression on the Prophet as you have on me.”

…That’s not exactly what I’m worried about.

The last thing I want is some twisted blessing from the Distorted One. But I couldn’t let Andrea see that.

I bowed my head meekly, adopting the humility I knew he expected. “…What if I disappoint them? What if they finds me unworthy of learning the truth?”

“Then you’ll strive harder to earn the Prophet’s favor next time.”

“And how would I do that?”

“Just continue as you are.”

Vague. Unhelpful. Of course.

Still, I suppose I should be grateful for the warning. If the Prophet had appeared out of nowhere without any heads-up, I’d have been completely screwed.

I haven’t learned much from this conversation, but…

At least now I knew the Prophet planned to visit the Cathedral soon. And this person is cautious, so won’t reveal themselves unless they’re absolutely sure.

Caution works both ways. Defeating the Prophet might be difficult, but avoiding them won’t be.

Because as long as even the slightest hint of a trap lingers in their mind, they won’t come near me.

Maybe I should ask Casimir to have me investigated for a week?

If I pretended to be a witness in some Inquisition case, the Prophet would steer clear. It could work.

The question is… would a week be enough?

“The best thing you can do now is study the Lord’s teachings,” Andrea’s voice cut through my thoughts. “Come on, let’s begin.”

…Can’t exactly tell him I’d rather go back and sleep, can I?

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

After the lesson, I skipped breakfast and headed straight to my room. Maybe if I got back under the covers, I could finally rest. But even tucked in bed, sleep wouldn’t come. My mind wouldn’t shut off.

That dream… it was strange.

Most dreams dissolve the moment you wake up, but this one clung to me. It felt so real, like it had actually happened. For a second, I even considered checking the room for traces of Athanas.

Dreams that vivid… they’re never a good sign.

I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to block out the endless spiral of thoughts.

Damn it. I should’ve just eaten breakfast.

Admitting defeat, I dragged myself out of bed and trudged to the prayer room, more exhausted than ever.

Seeing the real Athanas will clear things up. It has to.

I arrived about thirty minutes early and settled in to wait. It wasn’t long before he appeared.

“Fabio.”

Athanas’ face lit up the moment he saw me, his smile soft and warm.

“I missed you.”

Before I could fully process his words, his arms were around me, pulling me into a tight hug.

Wait… am I still dreaming?

For a split second, I questioned everything. But the warmth of his body, the solid pressure of his arms… it was too real. This wasn’t a dream.

Valentine’s prayer room is reserved for lovers.

Which meant, before going inside, we had to act like we were in love.

Unlike last night, there was a reason for this now. A clear, calculated reason for his behavior.

“What are you talking about? We just saw each other yesterday,” I said, laughing awkwardly as I pushed him away, creating some space between us.

I almost slipped and said ‘last night.’

But even if I had, Athanas would’ve just played along. He would’ve chalked it up to our little “lovers’ act” without a second thought.

Get it together.

I felt a flicker of shame for forgetting, even for a second, that this was all pretend. His words, his touch… none of it was real.

“…Every second without you feels like an eternity,” he murmured, brushing his fingers gently against my left cheek.

I shivered at his touch. “D-don’t say such embarrassing things! Let’s just go inside already.”

Athanas chuckled, a low, intimate sound. “Alright, would you rather I show you than tell you?”

With that, his arm slipped around my waist, pulling me even closer.

…Have we ever been this close before?

Was I just hyper-aware of him because of that dream?

My heart pounded, each beat hitting so hard I felt a little sick.

No. This feeling is just embarrassment.

Because the Athanas from my dream last night was exactly like the one standing next to me now, pretending to be my lover. And the realization made me want to bang my head against the wall in shame.

Does that mean, deep down, I want this? Want him to mean it?

Because if his affection were real, no matter what I told him, no matter how damning the truth, maybe he wouldn’t leave…

“…Excuse me.”

The door clicked shut behind us, and Athanas immediately let go of my waist, his cool voice bringing me back to my senses.

Right. Now’s not the time to get lost in whatever delusions my subconscious has been cooking up.

There was something more urgent: telling the real Athanas what happened yesterday.

Of course, I could keep it to myself. Pretend nothing changed. But I couldn’t do that.

Athanas only asked for my help because he needed to know about the looming fall of the Dark Realm. Keeping what I discovered to myself just to preserve whatever relationship we had—that would be a betrayal. A betrayal of his trust.

…Even if telling him the truth meant he’d walk away, disappointed and unwilling to keep working with me, I have to accept that.

That dream made me realize what I was truly afraid of. But I wasn’t going to let my irrational emotions control me anymore.

Looking back, I realized I’d been tiptoeing around Athanas, too focused on keeping him happy, like avoiding his bad side was my top priority.

That had to change. I needed to fix my mistake.

But now… standing here in front of him, the words I needed to say were stuck in my throat, refusing to come out.

“…Have you finished sorting out your thoughts?” Athanas asked, his gaze steady on mine.

“Huh? What thoughts?”

“You said yesterday you needed time to gather your thoughts… then you left in a hurry.”

Oh, right.

Now that he brought it up, that was just yesterday.

The day Athanas had been invaded by Oblivion, shed tears of blood, and collapsed….

So much has happened since then, it feels like days have passed, not just one.

I glanced at his eyes. Thankfully, they looked clear now, no sign of the blood vessels that had burst before.

“I should’ve asked if you were okay first. Did you get the blessing of healing afterward?”

“I did.”

That meant the maggots in his eyes…

…Let’s not think about that.

I could feel the nightmare I’d tried to bury threatening to resurface.

“…Athanas, remember when I told you not to investigate Oblivion?”

I barely managed to get the words out before he replied.

“As a matter of fact, that’s what I wanted to talk about.”

“What do you mean?”

Don’t tell me he ignored my warning and looked into Oblivion anyway?

“If you’ve learned its true name, under no circumstances should you—”

“I found a way to resist Oblivion,” Athanas interrupted.

…You found a way?

How?

“To be precise, I obtained a holy relic that enhances mental resistance.”

“Where did you find something like that?”

“I… found it in the place I saw in my dream.”

His dream?

T/N: Currently traveling to see family so only 1 chapter will be posted next week! （＾∀＾●）ﾉｼ