I Became the Cult Leader (1)
In the Arcadia Kingdom, deep within the Wessel Cult Hideout, the Wessel Cult was a notorious pseudo-religious organization. It was a secretive place that cleverly evaded the empire’s laws while maintaining its own isolated way of life. That was why they had established their hideout in the rugged Grey Veil Mountains. This was where Rowan lived.
Why was a boy who had once lived in Seoul, South Korea, now residing here? The answer was simple. After clearing his favorite game, The Seven Aegises, he had been about to claim his second-playthrough rewards when he suddenly found himself transmigrated into this world.
They said the second playthrough would let you start with a special ability…
And so, he had been reborn as the child of an ordinary couple who were ordinary believers in the cult. Thirteen years had passed since his transmigration. In other words, Rowan was now thirteen years old.
The Wessel Cult was a quest-related faction in The Seven Aegises that only appeared if you followed a specific branching path in the game. You didn’t have to clear it, but if you ignored it, its members would pop up occasionally to harass the protagonist’s party. According to the community forums, when players were asked which force annoyed them the most in the latter half of the game, over half named the Wessel Cult.
Still, completing the “Cult Annihilation” quest granted a generous amount of experience, gold, and equipment for a side quest. That quest really helped the party grow a lot.
In other words, the cult was filthy rich. That wealth later became a major obstacle, because the cult used its vast fortune to quietly extend its influence across the world. Behind the mask of religion hid all sorts of ugly deeds. True to its nature as a pseudo-cult, it had no qualms about committing unethical acts under the name of missionary work—looting, lobbying, distributing illegal drugs, political manipulation, business monopolies, distorting education and records, and more.
There were even rumors that a member of the Wessel Cult had wormed their way close to the emperor himself. (This was information Rowan had picked up thanks to his habit of talking to every single NPC he could find.) If left unchecked, the second Cult Leader, Oberon Lumiere, would have eventually risen to become the empire’s political high priest.
Rowan searched his memories for the bad ending that appeared in the strategy guide if you failed the Wessel Cult Annihilation quest. The protagonist’s party—filled with Grand Diamond Swords and 9-Circle mages—would be completely wiped out by a certain “pattern” used by the Cult Leader. The cult’s power would grow unchecked, topple the monarchy, and spark a world war. And the end of every such war was always the same: apocalypse.
In that ruined world, the second Cult Leader Oberon Lumiere would declare with a smile:
"This, too, is the will of God."
It was the classic cultist repertoire.
To summarize, Rowan’s future held only two possibilities. Either the protagonist would storm in twelve years later and annihilate the cult as per the game’s story, selling him into slavery, or the cult would win and the world would be destroyed. Both outcomes were the worst possible scenarios for him.
No matter how you looked at it, being transmigrated didn’t mean he wanted to die young at twenty-five. After long deliberation, the thirteen-year-old boy reached a single conclusion.
“Before the world ends, I need to escape the cult and join the protagonist’s side…”
That way, he could protect the world and avoid being sold into slavery.
In his previous life, Rowan had lost his entire fortune in the stock market. He had personally chosen hard mode for his life. He had given up on romance, and his only joy had been playing The Seven Aegises. At that point, there was nothing more to say.
Hard mode in life. Hard mode in games.
Yet the world he had been transmigrated into was surprisingly simple. There were no stocks. No cryptocurrency. You didn’t need a master’s or doctorate to get a job. If you had talent with the sword, you could aim for the highest knight rank—Grand Diamond Sword. If you had talent for magic, you could strive to become a 9-Circle Archmage.
And if you had no talent at all… you simply lived as a slave.
Fortunately, Rowan’s parents had been commoners and had avoided the fate of slavery. Still, the boy had a few grievances.
The first was the cult’s rule against wasting food, which forced him to choke down spinach. To the other believers, it probably just looked like a child’s tantrum.
The second annoyance was having to attend the daily worship service. As someone who had been non-religious in his previous life, the sermons went in one ear and out the other, and he was forced to sing hymns with fake enthusiasm. The occasional rhythmic dance competitions where he had given it his all could only be described as a desperate struggle for survival.
And the third and final grievance was—
“Rowan. There’s quite a bit of work today.”
“Yes, Elder.”
The ability Rowan had possessed since childhood. With his Truth-Seeing Eye, he could identify suspected heretics within the cult and subject them to public trials.
“Heretics are a blight upon the cult. They must be captured and executed without fail.”
“Yes… I’ll do my best until I grow stronger!”
Rowan examined the records of the suspected heretics that had been submitted. He read the written “Believer Evaluations” and sensed whether the contents were true or false. Good or evil. His eyes glowed with a red light—the proof that his power had activated.
“I see it. I see it clearly. This one didn’t sing the hymns loudly enough! A heretic!”
“Claimed to have donated all their wealth, yet money was found hidden? Definitely a heretic.”
“Tried to marry off their daughter early just to avoid her becoming one of Oberon’s new brides? Heretic, no question!”
In this way, he sorted through dozens of people. This was Rowan’s choice, and it meant that some of these people might die.
Was this ability the special reward for his second playthrough? The strange thing was that although it clearly wasn’t mana, he could feel a limit to how much he could use it. It felt like mana, yet not quite. The people around him believed this power was some kind of spiritual force.
Spiritual power? As far as Rowan remembered, no such stat existed in The Seven Aegises.
Regardless, this ability greatly reduced the workload of the Cult Leader and the elders. In a twist from the original story of The Seven Aegises, it had become the starting point that allowed the Cult Leader to enjoy his leisure time.
“Elder! I’m finished!”
“You’ve worked hard. Go ask the nuns for a snack and tell them I said to give you one.”
“Yes! Thank you!”
After finishing his task of sorting suspected heretics in the Cult Leader’s office, the thirteen-year-old Rowan earned himself some precious free time until dinner.
Babil Hill, inside the hideout.
It had become Rowan’s daily routine to head to the hill after finishing his tasks. For a thirteen-year-old, he spent an unusual amount of time lost in thought.
“……Hmm.”
In truth, he was just spacing out. What else was there to do in the mountains? Either stare blankly into space or people-watch.
His memories of modern life hadn’t completely faded, and he missed smartphones and delivery food like crazy.
“The more I think about it, the more I want it. Damn dopamine! After draining myself completely using my ability, all I get is bread and milk? What is this, the military?!”
Rowan knew that accepting his situation was better for his mental health. He shook his head vigorously and turned his gaze toward the distant procession of the Cult Leader’s missionary group departing the hideout.
Two of the cult’s five Diamond Swords, one 5-Circle mage, and dozens of believers were moving out.
The Cult Leader has it good. He can come and go from the cult as he pleases… all under the pretext of missionary work… Missionary work? Yeah, right. He’ll probably spend a few days in some village, drinking and fooling around with women. They exploit labor from kids like me and then enjoy themselves? What a bunch of scumbags.
The Cult Leader was infamous for his drinking and womanizing. His habits had grown even worse after his wife died of illness. That was why Rowan didn’t even need to use his ability to know that the true purpose of these “missionary expeditions” wasn’t spreading the faith, but throwing wild parties.
But what was the point of complaining? This was simply the fate of an ordinary believer.
Step. Step.
At that moment, someone was approaching Rowan from behind. It was the usual interloper who always showed up whenever he tried to relax at Babil Hill, his secret sanctuary.
She shouted in a high-pitched, demanding voice.
“Hey! Rowan! I told you we were supposed to study the scriptures together!”
It was the Cult Leader’s daughter, Ellara Lumiere. She was furious after scoring a failing twenty points on the last scripture exam.
“You go ahead. I got a perfect score this time, so I don’t have to go.”
“What? Are you bragging? How annoying!”
“It’s not bragging. It’s just a fact.”
The children of the cult, especially those born inside the organization, were made to study the scriptures created by the Cult Leader from a young age. The content was the same tired pseudo-religious doctrine. Roughly speaking, it brainwashed them into believing the Cult Leader was a messiah, his words were absolute, and that refusing to obey would bring a lifetime of hellish suffering. It was a form of gaslighting wrapped in religious ideology.
It wasn’t a difficult test like English or mathematics. It was pure memorization, so Rowan always scored perfectly. Rumors of his genius spread throughout the cult, and because he was sociable, his reputation was quite good.
To the believers, Rowan seemed mature beyond his years, possessed a rare ability, and could recite the doctrines fluently, showing deep faith.
In contrast, although Ellara was the Cult Leader’s daughter, she had no talent for spiritual power or magic. She always scored around twenty points, making her a natural target for comparison with Rowan. It was only natural that jealousy and resentment had begun to sprout in the young girl’s heart.
Looking at her, Rowan thought to himself.
It’s fine. It’s better if she doesn’t understand this nonsense scripture. She probably wouldn’t get it anyway. All those unrealistic stories in the texts!
It really was better not to understand the doctrines of a cult.
As Rowan stared at her quietly, Ellara’s eyes sharpened. She thrust the back of her hand toward him and shouted.
“You lucky bastard. What are you staring at? Show some respect.”
“Ah.”
This was a hierarchical society.
Thud.
Rowan knelt before Ellara.