I Became the Apostle of an Evil God Chapter 47

“…We are under divine punishment. We must repent…”

The snake tribe elder muttered with vacant eyes and a sorrowful voice. Orma, who had been quietly observing the scene, let out a deep sigh, raised his hand, and lightly snapped his fingers.

At that exact moment, the shadow lurking beneath his feet coalesced into a snake-like form and lunged at Jaena, who was sitting on the altar with his mouth hanging open blankly. Regardless of whether the startled Jaena flinched and screamed, “Ow, ow, ow! I—I don’t taste good!”, the shadow indifferently bit into the ropes binding Jaena and tore them apart.

Only after he was a free man did Jaena realize Orma had come to save him. Tears welled in his eyes from the emotion as he brought his hands together.

“Oh, Lord Orma… Did you—did you come to save me?”

Naturally, Orma did not confirm it. Just coming all this way was already a nuisance, so he merely tilted his head askew, stroked the tip of his chin, and lost himself in thought. At any rate, it was enough that the annoying brat was alive.

So, what should he do now? Two choices came to mind.

First, kill every single one of these foolish snakes. Hmm… a very clean ending. Considering the time wasted to save this irritating brat and the mental anguish a fretful Van went through, it was a fitting punishment. In his heart, he wanted to pull out his spear right this second and engage in a delightful slaughter.

However, second, ignore these bastards and go on their way… which seemed to be the choice Van would recommend. Unnecessarily killing guys who were under Muhwi’s divine punishment might get them entangled in troublesome business. Since it was off-putting in many ways, it was better not to get involved with bastards who were marked and punished by a ‘god,’ no matter what the circumstances were.

Contrary to expectations, however, Van seemed to have something else in mind besides those two choices. Looking around at the snake tribe members who had lost their will to fight, he pondered something deeply before slowly drawing his sword from its sheath.

Why? Are you going to kill them? Can’t you let me join in? It’s been a while since I’ve heard screams, felt the sensation of tearing and crushing bone and flesh, and smelled blood… Orma thought, his eyes gleaming. Fortunately, before he could voice those inner thoughts and fluster Van, Van spoke up first.

“You wouldn’t have recklessly conducted a human sacrifice to seek forgiveness from the god Muhwi all this time. Was the reason you suddenly kidnapped Mr. Jaena to offer him as a sacrifice because of the recent fires?”

“…That is so.”

“As the sun draws closer and the sunlight burns the world like a calamity, it is not uncommon for fires to break out. Even so, the reason you specifically sought forgiveness from Muhwi must be because this is no ordinary fire.”

At the words that grasped the situation with uncanny accuracy, the snake tribe elder let out a low groan and stared blankly at Van. Although he neither affirmed nor denied it, Van was already certain that his words were not wrong.

One step, then another… He approached slowly, but the snake tribe could only tremble in anxiety, completely paralyzed with indecision. Eventually, the place Van headed toward was right behind the altar where Jaena had been, right in front of the most fiercely blazing embers.

“Lord Orma, this fire… is it a ‘holy fire’?”

The sacred flame, the primordial fire, the symbol of Muhwi. One look showed it was different from the sea of fire surrounding them. The holy fire, which continuously displayed its unwavering presence without anyone knowing what on earth it was burning since there was no firewood, certainly looked valuable enough for the snake tribe to steal.

“Yeah. But why?”

“It seems this fire spread to the surroundings because of the calamity.”

At Van’s words, Orma took a slow look around. Although they hadn’t done anything yet, the snake tribe members turned pale and trembled in fear simply from locking eyes with Orma.

Strangely, however, the fire that had begun to spread fiercely as if dominating the Black Field Wood burned everything it touched, yet absolutely nothing within the Black Field Wood was consumed to death or crumbled to ash. It merely continued to blaze… pulsating and burning.

“A ban on movement, then.”

Orma muttered, crossing his arms as he grasped the situation.

Muhwi hadn’t simply exiled them to another continent; he had handed down a sentence for them to live in this ‘Black Field Wood’ for eternity. However, due to the recent calamity, the fire of Muhwi they had stolen… that is, the holy fire, had spread to the surroundings. It was only natural since it was a sacred flame that burned everything in existence, but the snake tribe could not extinguish the fire that had spread to the domain where they lived.

Because of Muhwi’s punishment, the ‘ban on movement,’ they couldn’t even abandon the Black Field Wood to go elsewhere. Given the situation, even though they were excommunicated and their prayers couldn’t reach the god, they must have lost their minds and kidnapped Jaena the moment they saw him.

Since he was a member of the beast-kin—especially the successor—he would absolutely be a believer of Muhwi, and if so, his prayers would reach Muhwi. Of course, there was no guarantee that Muhwi would grant that prayer… but they had to gamble everything on that sliver of a possibility.

“E-Excuse me… Sir Van, it’s strange here… That side was already burning when I regained consciousness, and it’s still burning now.”

“Hmm, I see. It seems the Black Field Wood possesses a ‘non-combustible’ property.”

“A non-combustible property?”

Jaena’s eyes widened as he looked around. Come to think of it, he had heard a story like that before. The reason the exiled snake tribe coveted the god’s fire was because someone from the snake tribe had discovered the ‘black grass.’

The black grass was a legendary grass imbued with Muhwi’s blessing. It was said that if one wove the black grass to make clothing, it could withstand any fire, and since it could even block the holy fire, it meant a challenge against Muhwi was possible.

The fierce warriors of the beast-kin regarded that black grass as the ‘glory of being able to challenge Muhwi.’ The warrior among warriors, the pinnacle of martial arts… Muhwi, the god of war. No matter if he was a god, it was a given that any true warrior’s wish was to vie against the strongest, so everyone jokingly said that if they found the black grass, they might beat Muhwi and become a new god.

However, a certain individual from the snake tribe discovered that legendary black grass and harbored a thought slightly different from ordinary people. What if we cultivate this black grass? If the black grass gathers to form a field, to the point where it looks exactly like a wood, wouldn’t we be able to defeat Muhwi?

Instead of stopping at merely requesting a duel, a confidence that they could truly defeat Muhwi surged within them. And while carrying out that plan… a certain incident occurred.

“…That is our original sin.”

The snake tribe elder, who had been quietly watching the situation, spoke with a sigh. Unable to bring himself to even look at Orma, he slowly lowered his waist and curled his tail backward. Though late, it was a greeting and an act of worship offered by a mere human facing a god.

Orma merely glanced at the sight with an expressionless face, but the elder, with his head hung low, began to speak weakly.

“Abish—that is the name of the man who was the hero of our snake tribe. He discovered the black grass and intended to request a duel with Muhwi. He planned to weave the black grass to create armor that could withstand even the holy fire.”

“…And then?”

When Orma, who had seemed completely uninterested in either the calamity or the divine punishment, opened his mouth to ask, the elder flinched, bowing until his forehead touched the ground, and answered in a trembling voice.

“A war… a truly massive war broke out. A war with the demons who sing of destruction…”

At the mention of the demons’ appearance, boredom instantly spread across Orma’s face. It seemed he already knew the story, but Van watched his reactions and asked carefully.

“Did the hero named Abish participate in that war as well?”

“He did… participate. Standing on the side of the demons. He fell for the demon’s temptation that if he cultivated that black grass enough to form a wood, he could vie against the god Muhwi, win, and become a god.”

“Did Muhwi, upon learning that fact, grow furious and exile the entire snake tribe? It must have felt unfair to be driven out altogether because of a single person.”

“N-No… The entire tribe knew Abish was cultivating the black grass and turned a blind eye. Since we kept quiet despite knowing he stood on the side of the demons, we are accomplices.”

Hearing that story, Van recalled the brief explanation Orma had given him about ‘demons’ before.

They primarily promise eternity. They promise to make you the god of a new world.

Abish and the snake tribe must have been bewitched by that temptation. A black grass that could even block the holy fire—the demons would have tried by any means necessary to pull them to their side.

But was the snake tribe truly the only one to fall for the temptation? How many others had been enticed by that proposal and stood on the side of the demons? If anything, Orma, who had rejected that charming offer on the grounds that it was repulsive, could be seen as the unusual one.

Just like rulers who possess everything they can have yet grow greedy for the one thing they don’t, everyone coveted even eternity… but only Orma rejected that temptation. Regrettably, he became miserable because he alone ended up with what he hadn’t wished for.

Even while listening to the serious and pitiful story of the snake tribe, Van watched with a heart full of suspense, not knowing when Orma might wield his spear and display his tyrannical temperament, saying, ‘Is that so? Then I’ll just put you at ease. What an enviable death. Is someone as full of pity as me truly an evil god?’

However, Orma was a different breed after all. Contrary to expectations, he burst into a smirk, then pulled the corners of his mouth back fiercely as if he had heard a truly ridiculous joke, speaking with a bizarrely smiling face.

“Well, that’s just so absurd it’s funny. So what did Muhwi even do to hand out punishment? The one who fought his ass off was me.”

If anyone is going to give out punishment, shouldn’t it be me? Isn’t that right?