Became an Apostle of an Ancient God

Chapter 0

"Not worshipping the one true god, Serre, but idolizing and attempting to serve another evil god."

"Attempting to corrupt a devout follower of the holy Serre by preaching the faith of the Evil God."

"Murdering innocent citizens and attempting to steal a valuable holy relic from the theocratic nation of Lusis."

"For all these crimes, and for every other evil yet to be revealed, we sentence you, a follower of the Evil God and the Child of the Devil, to the 'Punishment of Atonement.'"

─Thud.

The moment the Judge's short staff struck the ground, jeers from the crowd poured toward the sinner.

Unlike the heinousness of the charges, the one bowing his head under the scorn of the onlookers was a small boy.

A child with a pale face, rare in this port town.

But that wasn't the only thing that set him apart from the countless other children in this seaside village.

The hair of the crowd surrounding him. Amid the fluttering gold, red, and brown hues, only the boy's hair was pitch black, like the void left behind after light had faded. Likewise, his dim, dark eyes swirled with countless emotions.

Anger.

Sadness.

Injustice.

And fear—of the fate that awaited him.

This emotional storm wasn't stirred simply because he was branded a 'Disciple of the Evil God.'

'...Yeah, I'm totally screwed.'

It was because he knew.

That this world was, in fact, the setting of a game called [Call from the Void].

A story where humans fought, upholding the will and commands of gods.

So it was obvious what kind of fate awaited a heretic who defied the God of Light.

The boy looked up at the dim sky. Seagulls flew around the harbor, and black crows, drawn by the scent of blood, were gathering.

"To think such a young child was a disciple of the Evil God."

"I know, right? It's like the prophecy from fifty years ago is coming true—the one about the light decaying and the void engulfing Lusis."

"I heard rumors that he's a Changeling. Look at him. That hair color doesn't belong to this region. He's definitely a child left behind by a monster."

"In times like these, we must rely even more on the Goddess of Light."

Amid the jeers and insults, the boy stepped onto the plank leading up to the ship. At that moment, a fruit with a sour, red scent hit his face from afar. Juice dripped down his chin.

As if waiting for that cue, the spectators began hurling not only fruit but all sorts of junk at the boy. Fruits, vegetables, eggs—even small stones from the cruelest of them.

The boy didn't let out a single groan.

Even as blood trickled from his head, struck by a rock.

Through the dripping pulp, a faint glint of anger and resistance seemed to flicker in his eyes.

That very look seemed to frighten the faithful even more, and the followers of the God of Light in Lusis recoiled. They feared the Child of the Devil might curse them in a fit of rage.

Walking silently along the plank, the boy was grabbed by the collar and pulled onto the ship by an Inquisitor. The moment they were out of the Judge's sight, the Inquisitor shoved the boy roughly.

"Filthy heretic."

"..."

"Get down there, you 'devil brat.' Your cell's on the lowest level."

At the Inquisitor's command, the boy descended the ship's stairs one step at a time.

While other levels were packed with prisoners, the lowest level held only one.

"Get in!"

Kicking the boy into the barred cell, the Inquisitor snorted and said,

"Don't even think about trying anything funny. Every Inquisitor on this ship has, at least once, skinned a heretic's face alive. No one's going easy on you just because you're a brat. Got it?"

"..."

With no response from the boy, the Inquisitor brushed off his hands as if he had touched something filthy, his disgust plain to see.

As the Inquisitor left to bring in another heretic, the boy locked eyes with a young man in the cell across from him.

Or rather, it was hard to say if they truly locked eyes.

Because the young man before him wore a bizarre mask.

A thick iron mask that made it questionable whether he could even see. Unlike the boy, who wore only a shackle around his neck, this man's limbs were all bound and fixed to the wall.

His appearance was horrific. His clothes were torn, as if he'd just been tortured, and his body was covered in red welts, like lash marks. It was a wonder he was still alive.

And on his body, a large inscription in the language of this world was carved.

'God is dead.'

Not only a denial of Serre's faith, but a direct blasphemy against every 'god' in this world—two words of intense heresy.

After some time had passed and the ship began to sway at departure, the man in the iron mask finally spoke.

"Hey, you."

"..."

"You!"

"Me?"

Lifting his head, the boy saw the man in the iron mask. Despite the mask likely impairing his vision, the man's gaze was clearly fixed on him.

"...Idolizing another evil god. Blasphemy. Preaching the Evil God's faith and corrupting a follower. Theft of a holy relic. Murder of innocents. Not bad for a little kid."

"..."

When the boy didn't respond, the man changed his tone and asked again.

This time, his voice was more straightforward.

"Kid. Unlike me, you look like you were dragged in unfairly... What did they get you for?"

"...Who knows."

Hugging his knees in the corner of the cell, the boy scanned the iron mask. All the charges the man had just listed were fabricated by fanatics obsessed with light.

However, the man before him looked like a dangerous criminal at a glance. Talking to someone like that, getting friendly, might only increase his sentence—or get him whipped.

In the face of the boy's cold reaction, the man in the iron mask let out a deep sigh and said,

"Did you know? Of all the people sentenced to the 'Punishment of Atonement,' not a single one has returned alive. This might be the last person we ever meet. How about we at least exchange names?"

"...Names, huh."

The boy's pitch-black eyes looked toward the glint peeking through the mask.

Anger, torment, ecstasy, desire

Countless emotions surged within, but not a single one seemed to suggest

he was ready to simply settle into this situation.

Emotions potent enough to serve as fuel and drive him forward.

Yeah. Telling him his name wouldn't matter.

The boy's parched lips slowly moved.

"Haru. Lee Haru. That's my name. And you?"

The 'name' that came from the boy's mouth was an extremely rare foreign name, even across the entire nation of Lusis, let alone the region of Lisboa.

In front of Haru, who had revealed his name, the man in the iron mask smirked behind his mask and said,

"It's weird to say this after I asked first, but... I've got my reasons. I barely remember anything from before I put on this mask. My hometown, my name, my family—everything. Even the names I've used so far were all fake, used once and discarded."

"So, how about you name me? Instead of a name I gave myself, I want to be called by one someone else gave me. At least for this final moment."

Amnesia.

Maybe, Haru thought, this man was in the same situation as him.

Thrown into a world completely different from the one he came from, and a man born in this world who had lost all memory of himself.

The two of them... were complete strangers in this world.

"Iron Mask."

"Hm?"

"You're wearing an iron mask... so, Iron Mask. It's a pretty famous name where I'm from."

At Haru's words, the man chuckled and replied,

"Iron Mask, huh... Well, I guess that works. It's the first name someone else has given me. Alright, maybe we'll only be companions for a short while, but... I'm counting on you, kid."

"...Yeah."

Lee Haru thought.

About why someone not from this world like him ended up falling into such a different world. After retracing the threads of his memory, he recalled it once again.

The 'words' that lingered in his ears just before he fell into this world.

[Shub.]

[Shub-Niggurath.]

That was the final language he heard on the brink of death, just before falling into this world.

And the name of a certain 'noona' he had desperately searched for.