I Became the Apostle of an Evil God Chapter 4

Van’s body collapsed helplessly backward without even being able to resist, announcing his death. However, Van’s consciousness was perfectly intact. Ah, though he did swear a bit inwardly, thinking, ‘Holy shit, that startled me…’ After all, when you abruptly die from a spear flying and impaling you, isn’t that much at least allowed? Van was someone who rarely swore normally, but this was an area of force majeure.

Van lay flat in his corpse state, staring blankly at the flashing system message as if it were a warning. It was strange that something was visible even though he was dead, but anyway.

[You have died!]

Hmm, so even an instant death makes you feel a little bit of pain. He learned something new.

[The afterimage of the world engraved within you mourns your death. Would you like to resurrect now?]

Resurrection. It was a word that seemed to remind him that this place was a world inside a game, and that he was the player character—the protagonist of that game. This was the trump card Van had hidden from the priests, and at the same time, a power he couldn’t just wield carelessly.

Looking at this state of affairs, if put nicely, he would be called a ‘new god,’ and in the worst-case scenario, he would be called an evil phantom and get exorcised. Back when he was comfortably playing the game at home, he would click ‘Yes’ without much thought, resurrect instantly, and fight again, but with an actual body, the feeling was completely different after all.

How should he put it… it was chilling… strange… anyway, an unpleasant sensation. If he followed his heart, he wanted to press ‘Yes’ and snap awake right away, but.

“Hoo… hoohm….”

Whether humming a tune or sobbing. Inside that pitch-black darkness, someone slowly walked over while spilling a bizarre sound.

Who else could it be? It must be the very perpetrator who abruptly threw the spear, the evil god who had eliminated the intruder who would have bothered him this time too if left alone. The dimly visible silhouette gradually drew closer, but seeing him tottering like a zombie, he truly was not in his right mind, just as Van had guessed.

The being who approached drawn close stopped midway through trying to pull out the spear impaled in Van’s corpse and tilted his head. Then, bending his waist, he stared intently down at Van’s face, and with a rough touch, he tapped Van’s cheek where a single drop of blood had splattered.

He didn’t know what the intention was, but like a small beast trying to brush off dust, there didn’t seem to be any particular malice.

Did Nietzsche say that if you gaze into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you? While Orma was observing Van’s corpse, Van also observed Orma. He certainly wasn’t the reason Van had fallen into a game he originally had no interest in for nothing.

It was an appearance that reminded him of that first moment when he was overwhelmed by that commanding aura in the game trailer featuring him.

The blackness that fully filled hell originated from Orma. It might hit closer to home to define the existence called Orma as pure darkness itself. Right, if darkness were to take form, it would bound to look exactly like this.

Behind the old, worn black coat Orma was wearing, a lengthy shadow stretched out so far that its end couldn’t be known, connecting with this vast space.

Moreover, his pure and vivid black hair, showing no blemish, looked divine and noble. Rather, the golden eyes that had changed like a stigma as evidence of having coveted that damn something—whether it was God’s blessing or a curse—looked more evil, so to speak.

The sharp, upward-slanted corners of his eyes, his thick eyebrows, and the intense impression leading down to his high, straight bridge of the nose seemed to announce that his temperament was no joke even before he became an evil god.

Compared to his appearance in the game where he featured as the final boss, he looked a bit lighter, but whatever the case, the fact that he was blindingly handsome even from this vertically looking-up angle did not change.

“Mmm….”

Orma’s golden eyes, which were oddly out of focus, scanned Van like a wild beast. A slight trace of disappointment flitted across Orma’s face, and he slowly raised his body, pulling his spear out from Van’s corpse.

The moment Orma lost interest in him and turned his body, Van selected ‘Yes’ and resurrected.

The processes of life dwelling again into a body that had died and drawing breath were bizarre and strange. …Hmm, it wasn’t a particularly pleasant feeling.

Throughout the transition from a free soul state unbound by anything back into a suffocating flesh, a sensation so deep and vivid that it felt freezing rushed in, making him shudder involuntarily.

When he let out a breath along with a cough without realizing it, cough, Orma, who was walking far away, paused and turned around.

He scanned the resurrected Van with bewildered eyes, and though he could hardly understand the situation, he abruptly rushed over and swung his spear first.

However, Van blocked that attack with his sword this time and opened his mouth.

“Mr. Orma, please wait a moment and hear me out….”

When Van even spoke to him, Orma’s golden eyes went wide. But that was all; Orma aimed for Van’s blind spot and attacked deeply with an erratic speed and direction markedly different from before.

“Ah!”

He died again. Though Orma had killed him without even giving him a chance to speak, he didn’t feel much resentment toward Orma. He was a guy who wasn’t in his right mind anyway… and what he did was closer to the movements of a startled beast. Besides, even if it were Van, if a human he had killed suddenly came back to life and tried to strike up a conversation, he wouldn’t really want to listen either.

This time, even though Van was dead, Orma looked down at his corpse and did not easily let down his guard. Then, Van felt somehow amused, and with the thought of living up to expectations, he once again accepted the resurrection offer from the flashing system message.

“…Kek, ahem… breathing is the strangest part….”

“….”

Orma, startled out of his wits, readjusted his grip on his spear and pointed it toward Van. The resurrected Van looked down at his clothes soaked heavily with his own blood, fiddled with them, and deflected the spear that came flying fiercely once more. Orma narrowed his eyes and began to corner Van, drawing an unbelievable trajectory yet again.

‘Oh, this pattern….’

However, whether learning the patterns while dying countless times inside the game was not entirely in vain, Van’s body moved on its own, blocking the familiar attack. Following a light evasion of the subsequent attack, Van also swung his sword for the first time, aiming for Orma’s flank. Whether he hadn’t thought Van would be able to dodge, Orma’s face was unable to hide his fluster.

Still, he thought it was a decisive strike in its own right, but Van actually failed to cut anything. To think he could be that agile with that height and build….

However, whether Van’s attack was more flustering than expected, Orma took two steps back, fiddled with his flank with a visibly distorted face, and then glared at Van. How unfair. Just over a mere graze. The one who killed twice was that side, but if anyone saw, they’d think I was the assailant.

“I have something to say… Well, it seems you still have no intention of listening nicely.”

“….”

Then, should he shift his direction toward lightly subduing him for now? Since he just did an attack where he thrust in a straight line and then immediately swung horizontally to strike upward, the next thing should be….

‘Leaping up, then putting weight into the spear to slam it down, and kicking?’

Orma moved exactly as Van anticipated. It was a movement so fast that it couldn’t easily be perceived by the eyes of an ordinary person, but since Van was quick at learning anything, he already saw right through Orma’s attack patterns, which he had seen to the point of boredom.

For instance, that ‘counter’ move right there, where you deflect the spear with a sword in a split second to bring about momentary incapacitation. Accompanied by a sharp, ripping sound of slicing air, whoosh, just at this moment… as he leaped up to slam down!

“…Kugh!”

“Oh, it succeeded.”

Inside the game, besides this, there were parrying and various other ways to block Orma’s attacks, but they all demanded precise timing on par with a rhythm game expert. Whatever the case, Van, who was glad to have succeeded at once in reality, smiled brightly and approached Orma, who had lost his balance, fallen, and dropped his spear.

“Let’s talk, you and I.”

Thanks to that, Orma, who rolled on the floor, stared at Van as if he were looking at a madman. He stared intently at Van with his wide-open golden eyes, and after stroking his own neck, which he hadn’t needed to use for a very long time while stuck in hell, he barely opened his mouth.

“You… wha, ugh… what… are you?”

Listening to the growling voice like a beast, the clumsy pronunciation, and the awkward manner of speaking made him vividly feel that a distant amount of time had flowed since Orma set foot in this place. How long had he stayed in a space where there was no need to communicate with anyone, and where the value of language was less than trash? Van smiled slightly, trying his best not to let the sympathy that rushed in instantly show outwardly.

“Hmm, I am your….”

“….”

“So… a holy knight who will serve you as God…?”

Whether he didn’t like Van’s answer, Orma’s handsome face crumpled furiously.

…Do you hate it that much?

Van hesitated, then scratched his cheek and spoke carefully with an awkward expression.

“If you hate holy knight, shall we call it an apostle…?”