I Became the Apostle of an Evil God Chapter 40

“Good grief, making a fuss over just that. It’s not like someone’s going to eat you.”

“….”

As Van cautiously opened his eyes, Orma was staring intently at him with his usual expression. In fact, he looked like he couldn’t comprehend why Van was reacting so dramatically, which left Van hanging in midair, wondering. Did he not hear the cursing? Judging by his reaction, he clearly can’t read my entire mind.

Then, by any chance….

‘Lord Orma, please stop teasing Mr. Jaena as well.’

“Ha, if he keeps his mouth shut first, I don’t tease him, okay?”

“…I see. Understood.”

“N-No! I was staying perfectly quiet, but Lord Orma is picking on me! Lord Van!”

Jaena, who hadn’t been able to grasp what they were talking about at all, hurriedly reported Orma’s misdeeds the moment his own name was brought up, but unfortunately, Van failed to listen properly due to other important thoughts.

It appeared that under the premise of a ‘prayer,’ Orma could only hear words where Van explicitly began with ‘Lord Orma….’ While that was somewhat of a relief, why on earth had this sudden change occurred? Would another shift happen if his Faith stat rose past a certain threshold?

He felt like he had thought of the phrase ‘a god’s power grows in proportion to their faith’ far too simply until now. Come to think of it, wasn’t that phrase itself incredibly vague and strange? What exactly did it mean for a god’s power to grow stronger? By what standard did they become powerful?

If it applied to Orma, it would mean something like wielding his shadow with a bit more force, which was bizarre, wasn’t it? The shadow might become sturdier or its destructive power might increase, but that too was closer to a mere play on words. Even if that grew stronger, what of it?

Since Orma didn’t possess a ‘Level’ or ‘Stats’ like Van’s player character in the game, it didn’t seem like he would become ‘powerful’ through simple numbers and calculations.

If that was the case….

“What did I say the condition was when I promised to teach you spearmanship?”

“…Whimper, it was to be quiet.”

“Now that you know, shut your mouth. And stop acting cute.”

“Hmph! And just now, you were the one who brought my name up first, Lord Orma!”

“That wasn’t me, Van was the one who offered a pra—!”

Van watched Jaena and Orma bicker with heavy, subdued eyes, keeping his mouth tightly shut. A dark foreboding left his mind feeling deeply complicated.

Out of everyone, Orma was the one who hated being a god the most, wanting nothing more than to return to a normal human body and meet his end… yet Van felt like the rising faith was continuously forcing him to become a ‘god.’

Then what would come next? If the stat climbed even higher, into what kind of form would Orma change? Right now, the fact that the prayers Van offered reached him didn’t truly hit home, and he seemed to view it as no big deal….

But if physical changes were to occur, like his current state of not needing sleep or food, would he really be able to remain as carefree as he was now?

Orma was someone who had been consumed by an upsurge of anxiety and self-harmed that day just from hearing Banan’s name and drinking the divine liquor. Van prayed that such a thing would absolutely not happen this time, wishing instead that his Faith stat would neither rise nor fall any further.

The distance between the temple of Serca where Van used to stay and Siol was relatively close, making the journey shorter than expected, but the land of Yeoru, where the temple of Muhwi—their next destination—was located, lay on a different continent. They either had to take a ship or cross a desert on foot. Either route promised a fairly long journey, but with the scorching sun slowly drying the world to death, traveling through a desert was practically an act of suicide.

Of course, even if they attempted to travel by sea, there was no telling whether ships traveling between continents would even exist in times like these. As Van was pondering what to do, Orma furrowed his brows with a look of irritation and countered grandiosely, “If there isn’t a ship, we can just buy one.”

Van quickly conceded upon recalling the gold bars filling the shadow and the gems they hadn’t sold yet, deciding they should head toward the Port of Gyllia, where trade was carried out most actively.

The Port of Gyllia was located at the very edge of the continent. It was a distance that required a solid month and a half of riding on horseback to reach. Yet, a mere week after leaving Siol, Jaena put on a pale face and complained of discomfort.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Jaena?”

“…Ugh, I’ve been smelling a strange scent for the past few days, and it’s progressively getting worse.”

“A scent?”

“Can’t you smell anything, Lord Van?”

Well, as a human, Van couldn’t smell a thing, but since Jaena was a beastman with a sensitive sense of smell…. It clearly wasn’t a pleasant scent; Jaena ultimately looked around with a pained face and raised both hands to cover his nose. His pricked-up ears and tail looked so anxious that it seemed he might bolt and hide somewhere at any moment, and it felt like he would jump and scream if Orma so much as tapped him.

Ordinarily, Orma would have viewed this as a golden opportunity and picked on Jaena without batting an eye, but perhaps sensing something was amiss, he tilted his head sideways and brought his horse to a stop.

“Let’s take a break.”

“Ugggh….”

As if he had been waiting for Orma’s words, Jaena scrambled off his horse, chugged some water, and caught his breath. The sight of him trying his best to calm down, combined with his child-like appearance, made him look even more pitiful. Just as Van was contemplating that it might be best to investigate the scent, Orma pointed toward the sky and spoke.

“Van, look over there.”

The sky, which should have been filled with blazing sunlight, was strangely dark. It felt like night was still a long way off. Was it going to rain? For that to happen, the air remained far too arid, as if it would scorch the earth itself….

“It’s not that dark clouds have rolled in; it’s dark because it’s blanketed in ash.”

“Ash, sir?”

“Yeah, looks like a massive fire broke out somewhere.”

A fire…. With the illusion that the sun was creeping closer and the days growing longer, a continuous cycle of days where the sunlight felt like it would incinerate everything in this world caused large wildfires to break out frequently.

However, because water was so precious, people couldn’t even dream of putting the fires out. They merely prayed to the gods until the flames died down on their own from a lack of fuel. In a devastating spectacle akin to the arrival of hell, the ones suffering the most were the flora and fauna living in the mountains and forests.

Right, so that was why Jaena, who possessed sharp senses like them, was trembling with such anxiety. Now understanding the reason, Van gently approached Jaena, patting his back to soothe him.

“Are you alright, Mr. Jaena? I think we should camp around here for today.”

“Uuugh….”

“It appears a fire might have broken out nearby. A massive wildfire has likely been burning for a long time without being extinguished, scattering ash into the sky, and you must have caught the scent of it, Mr. Jaena.”

“Y-You’re right. I felt like I had smelled this bizarre scent somewhere before, and it’s definitely the smell of something burning….”

“Still, seeing as I can’t smell it, it doesn’t seem to be entirely close by. Let’s rest in this vicinity for today before moving on.”

Jaena’s anxiety-filled pupils continuously slit vertically before expanding back into round circles. He gave a slow nod as if trying his best to compose himself, but he was too busy trailing right behind Van as he began preparing the camp.

Watching that display with a displeased look, Orma snatched Jaena up by the scruff of his neck. Jaena, who would usually chatter away, instead clung tightly to Orma and spoke in a small, disheartened voice.

“Lord Orma….”

“What.”

“Please lend me Lord Van for just today.”

“What?”

“I feel like I’ll only be able to sleep if Lord Van is by my side.”

“No.”

How could this be, did he not feel an ounce of pity for a trembling follower! At the razor-sharp rejection, Jaena pouted his lips and began to flail his legs, pouring out complaints.

It was a stark contrast to the past days when he felt a sense of comfort as if being held by a father whenever Orma grabbed him by the scruff, but Orma merely looked down at Jaena with a fierce gaze.

“Then you put me to sleep, Lord Orma! Why are you so gentle to Lord Van but so harsh to me!”

“Why should I put you to sleep? And is he the same as you?”

“What’s different! If you’re going to say our faces are different, I have nothing to say!”

“You know it well, then. Besides, you’re just a follower, and he’s my apostle.”

…Ugh, it was frustrating, but he was right. Like most beastmen, the Tiger Tribe followed and revered Muhwi, and those with deep faith among them would receive the chief’s recommendation to serve as priests in Yeoru or become monks who trained in martial arts as well.

However, no matter how outstanding or deeply faithful someone was, none had ever become an apostle—the one referred to as a god’s first servant. Most of Muhwi’s apostles were so few that they could be counted on one hand, appearing only in ancient history books, and were revered alongside Muhwi as saints….

Though he couldn’t know for certain, even to Orma, who was called an evil god, Van—his first follower and ‘apostle’—must be special. It was true… but it was still frustrating!

Jaena glared up sharply, his ears and tail turning rigid. Then, lowering his voice as ominously as possible as if to cast a terrifying hex, he shouted:

“O-Oh, a curse… the curse of the Black Wildwood shall fall upon you, Lord Orma!”