I Became the Apostle of an Evil God Chapter 22

Van, who had ended up falling asleep right alongside Orma while trying so hard to put him to rest, snapped his eyes open. As if yesterday’s chaotic frenzy had never even happened, the surroundings were completely quiet, and faint morning sunlight leaked through the gaps in the curtains.

‘…Is it morning?’

Van carefully checked on Orma, who was still asleep. Last night, he couldn’t help but be utterly shocked by that sudden self-harm. Even though he had already known the reason Orma was trapped in hell was his desperate craving for death, he never imagined that every time Orma trembled with anxiety, he would try to prove he was alive by self-harming.

An imperfect body suspended between a god and a human—one that cannot die, yet bleeds and retains wounds. Turning his head slightly to get a closer look, Van saw that because the wounds had been inflicted with divine power, they were still not fully healed.

“Sigh….”

Letting out a soft sigh, Van hesitated just as he was about to lift his body. He recalled how, some time ago, Orma had woken up the very moment they became separated. He wanted to heal the wounds, but he was worried that if Orma woke up again, he might throw another fit.

‘Then… do I just need to stay in contact?’

Since it seemed that as long as they maintained physical contact of some sort, the “Human Sleep Therapy” skill would remain active, Van pondered for a moment before groaning as he pushed Orma—who was hugging him tightly as if pinning him down—off to the side. After rolling him over into a comfortable position lying flat on his back facing the ceiling, Van pulled back the blanket… and climbed on top of Orma. The posture was a bit embarrassing, but this was the only way to examine the wounds without breaking physical contact.

Fortunately, other than a very slight furrow of his brow, Orma showed no signs of waking up yet.

‘His arms are an absolute mess…. He completely hacked them up, didn’t he? The abdominal lacerations are quite deep too, and the chest area connects right up to the neck….’

Of course his bodily regeneration was fast, but at this rate, the marks would likely remain for at least a week. To think that fatal injuries which would mean death for anyone else amounted to a mere scratch like this for Orma.

It was hard to explain, but it made Van feel deeply upset. Perhaps it was because the Orma raging wildly right in front of his eyes bore such a striking resemblance to the utterly broken version of him encountered as the final boss in the game.

Carefully tracing Orma’s wounds with his hand, Van suddenly remembered the effect of the earring he was wearing. It had said he could utilize a portion of the god’s power. Until now, he had used it mostly to block the disastrous sunlight pouring down on Jaena, but would it also work to heal a god’s body? In a way, since it was equivalent to Orma healing his own body, it might be far more effective than using human medicine.

Let’s just try it first. Having made up his mind, Van gathered energy at his fingertips just as he had done for Jaena. The black and gold colors symbolizing Orma sparkled and mixed together, creating a mystical atmosphere, and Van covered Orma’s wounds with that power without hesitation. The power, glowing with a profound light, showered down like powder, healing the wounds and causing fresh flesh to sprout.

Relieved that it was taking effect properly, Van then carefully traced down to the wounds on the abdomen with his fingertips. To think he would turn a beautiful body with such perfectly defined muscles into a rag like this…. Filled with pity, Van’s eyelashes trembled subtly as they drooped down pathetically.

Right then, just as he was healing the final wounds leading from the chest to the neck, the pain vanished and left only a ticklish sensation on the wounded areas, causing Orma to ultimately awaken from his shallow slumber.

Opening his eyes slowly, the very first thing he saw was Van. What’s more, Van was looking down at him with quite a sorrowful expression.

Unable to believe reality, Orma blinked his eyes sluggishly once more. Yet, the phantom of Van carefully groping his body showed no signs of vanishing. Finally, right after healing the wounds extending up to the neck, Van’s eyes locked with the awakened Orma’s.

“Ah, are you awake?”

“…What are you doing?”

“I was trying to heal your wounds….”

Van smiled awkwardly, nervously checking to see if Orma was about to throw another fit. However, Orma merely knit one brow, let out a faint, deep breath, and then closed his eyes tightly while moving his lips. His voice was so quiet it could barely be heard.

“…Get.”

“Pardon?”

“Get… off….”

As if uttering that short phrase was the most difficult thing in the world, Orma blushed fiercely and bit his lip repeatedly. Why is he suddenly acting like this? Just as Van was thinking that, he felt something heavy poking against the edge of his hip. What is this? Did a spike suddenly grow out of Sir Orma’s pants?

…Realizing the true identity of that spike a beat too late, Van gasped in shock and hurriedly scrambled away, practically rolling off of Orma. The corners of Orma’s eyes were flushed red, burning with humiliation. Unable to bring himself to say a single word, Orma simply scanned the distanced Van up and down with eyes full of resentment, before tugging at the blanket to frantically cover his lower body.

“Um, Sir Orma….”

“Get out.”

“I was just trying to heal the wounds… Yes, I’m sorry. I’ll go outside.”

This time, Van cleanly accepted his fault and practically fled out of the room. Even if his intentions weren’t like that, as a result, it meant he had essentially violated his own god.

No, but… he seemed perfectly healthy. Um, even though it was just a fleeting sensation, it felt incredibly large…. Uh… isn’t it a good thing to be healthy down there too? It’s a very human physiological phenomenon…. The very thing he had yearned for so much….

While making excuses like that to himself, Van eventually banged his head against the wall with a thud. His mind was filled with nothing but curses like ‘Holy shit….’ A wave of self-loathing washed over Van, crashing into him. Since his god was likely feeling the same way, he probably wouldn’t bring up this incident ever again, but still….

“Mr. Van? What are you doing here?”

“…Mr. Jaena.”

Come to think of it, due to Orma’s frenzy yesterday, his power seemed to have spread outside the room. Were Jaena and the other people alright? Van caught his breath as calmly as possible and turned to look at Jaena. At that, Jaena tilted his head as if the one who wasn’t fine was actually Van, and spoke.

“Are you sick somewhere? Your face is completely flushed!”

“…No, I’m fine.”

“Don’t you have a fever? If it’s because of Sir Orma, come to my room and rest!”

He was grateful, but he declined. He figured walking around a bit would be more helpful in forgetting the embarrassing situation from moments ago. At that, Jaena nodded, then as if suddenly remembering something, smiled brightly and spoke.

“Is it correct that we are going to the sanctuary today? I want to go too! I heard that the sanctuary of the god Banan is so beautiful….”

“Ah, the sanctuary….”

After all that chaos yesterday, a sanctuary. Since they had come to Siol, they did need to go, but… would it be alright to take Orma along? What if he ends up fighting with the god Banan? Or rather, Van was worried that Orma might throw another frenzy and recklessly wound his own body again. Just what on earth happened between him and Banan that caused Orma to break down like this?

However, he couldn’t ask as easily as before. Watching Orma break down had settled as a new form of terror within Van. Pondering over it, Van abruptly stood up, opened the luggage bag in Jaena’s room, and pulled out the notebook Gale had given him. Then, borrowing a worn-out pen from the innkeeper, he summoned Gale and began to converse through writing.

—Lord Gale, are you awake?

—The apostle of Orma? Was your name Van…. Right?

—Yes, that’s correct.

—I see. Is the journey going well?

—We just arrived in Siol yesterday.

—Siol. How is the situation there?

—Belied by its nickname as the City of Water, the waterways are entirely dried up. Only a few fountains are barely functioning, and people are huddling together around the fountains and under temporarily pitched parasols, carrying sunshades.

—The situation is bleak, then. But the reason you’re suddenly talking to me like this… it seems Orma’s condition isn’t very good?

Gale caught on uncannily fast. Van pressed his lips tight and slowly began to write down what had happened yesterday. His encounter with Banan, the conversation they shared, and how Orma had sensed it upon his return to the inn… resulting in the frenzy and self-harm. Once he had written down the entire sequence of events, a response appeared in a sweeping yet elegant handwriting.

—Thank you. It’s thanks to you that it ended at just that level.

Just that level? Van’s light-blue eyes filled with gloom. If so, then just what kind of extremes had the Orma that Gale knew gone to?

—He’s probably the only guy crazy enough to run rampant trying to commit suicide. Why else do you think he made a bet with a human king who failed to recognize him, leaving behind records labeling him a demon who won’t die even if you kill him?

—…Is it a frequent occurrence?

—Whenever it involves the gods.

—The god Banan seemed to look upon Sir Orma quite favorably. Why does Sir Orma detest her so much, then? Is it because he hates the idea of becoming a god, so he loathes other gods and everything associated with them?

—It’s a bit different. Banan is…. Did Orma happen to tell you anything about the Sky Island?

—He mentioned that the treasures piled up there are a sort of inheritance.

—That’s it. Well, you could view it as an inheritance… or maybe it’s closer to a gift given out of apology.

—An apology? Didn’t you say that the god Banan gifted that island to him?

—Correct. Though I’m not sure if calling it a gift is entirely accurate. It might be more appropriate to say she shoved it into his hands out of overwhelming guilt, telling him to at least take that.

As their written conversation reached that point, the hypothesis Van had constructed in his mind seemed to become increasingly clear. Van hesitated before carefully penning down a question.

—Is the god Banan by any chance Sir Orma’s mother?

The reply did not come immediately. Perhaps it was because it was a complicated relationship that even Gale didn’t quite know how to explain.

—She is, and she isn’t. Though Banan was the first to deny the relationship between them, claiming they have no connection whatsoever.

—I don’t quite understand what you mean.

—…Van, do you know about the ‘Amusement of the Gods’?

The Amusement of the Gods. At that phrase, the strength drained from Van’s hand holding the pen.

Staring at the gem embedded in his ring, Van recalled Banan’s eyes which he had seen yesterday. So that was it. Hers hadn’t been golden either, and it was no different from a worthless, fleeting dream…. Even though my own god had collapsed helplessly from that brief encounter.

As his thoughts reached that conclusion, a sharp resentment toward Banan quietly surged and took root inside Van’s heart.