"Apostle of the Evil God," You Say?

Yoahim slowly rose to his feet and stared at the shadow.

The formless shadow twitched part of its body, like a person nodding.

"Yeah, you. No way a priest of Raello is an Apostle of the Evil God, right?"

His memories were hazy, but Raello was the sun god from the game. Probably the deity that priests and holy knights served in the lore.

Yoahim had zero interest in game settings or story. He'd skipped every cutscene that popped up during main quests.

Figured out I'm the Apostle of the Evil God...

Even if he ignored the story, he knew the basics for each class. They explained it in an unskippable intro video ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠after character creation.

Apostle of the Evil God. That's what NPCs called Dark Knights.

The setup was a fallen knight answering the call of a sealed evil god, scheming for their master's revival.

In the actual game, only player characters were called Dark Knights. Which meant, in this game-turned-reality, Yoahim was the only one.

In other words, he was the world's one and only Apostle of the Evil God.

I've kept it hidden so well until now.

Getting found out as the Apostle would be a problem for him. He'd hidden his identity as best he could—no one had clocked him yet.

But this shadow? What the hell?

"At first, I thought you were some black mage playing knight. Nearly got fooled. Your power's so weak, it was hard to spot you as the Apostle. Why'd you end up in such a pathetic state?"

I'm weak—did you pitch in to help? Why the shade?

Yoahim clicked his tongue and asked, "Who the hell are you?"

Just what was this thing to see through him? And what was that about experiments?

Yoahim eyed the shadow with sharp suspicion.

The shadow crumpled in on itself, then stretched long and thin again.

"You ask who I am? A fine question. I am the master of the Spire Tower, the devourer of starlight, and lord of the abyss. Satisfied?"

Not a clue.

Yoahim scowled. The cryptic bullshit rubbed him wrong, but the shadow seemed to like his reaction.

"Heh... A true Apostle's face. Even in your weakened state, your faith remains unbroken? Yes, that's how an Apostle should be. Dark Knight, what is your name?"

What nonsense is this guy spouting?

Yoahim answered with his scowl intact. "Yoahim."

"Very well, Apostle Yoahim. Our goals align—we tread the same path. I shall guide you. Come to my domain. I will grant you power and mighty necromancy."

"And the price?"

Yoahim believed no gift came free. A hard truth learned in this dogshit world.

"Pledge loyalty to me. Become my legion's commander and drown the world in darkness. That is the cost of power."

Yoahim was skeptical. Loyalty for power, black magic lessons, and a job? What was this, a charity?

"Those eyes... you doubt me. Fair enough—in this world, only your own strength is trustworthy. You're weak, so doubt comes naturally. Take this, Apostle Yoahim. Consider it an advance."

Part of the shadow split off, stretching into a hand-like tendril. It glowed strangely, then shoved straight into Yoahim's nose and mouth.

He coughed reflexively—then agony hit like his guts were shriveling.

"Gah!"

Yoahim exhaled raggedly. The squeezing pain vanished, replaced by surging power wrapping his body.

Strength, Vitality, and Agility up 20 each. Level-ups gave 5 stat points— this was like jumping 12 levels at once.

Taking unknown power from an unknown bastard. Should he be thrilled or pissed?

As he mulled it over, the shadow spoke.

"You cannot hide or flee. That is your fate. This mark cannot be erased. Apostle Yoahim, come claim the rest in person. I'll be waiting."

"Wait, hold up! What the fu—"

"Apostle of the Evil God. Walk the path you must. That is all."

The babbling shadow rippled violently, then vanished with a gust of wind.

The heavy aura filling the cave evaporated in an instant.

Fuck, drops his monologue and ghosts.

Yoahim grumbled.

"Haaah... That really startled me..."

With the shadow gone, Emily let out her held breath and slumped over.

Her pale face was now ghostly white.

"Hey, you okay?"

"I'm fine. Just shaken by that evil aura. Haaah... As a priest of Raello, I'm so ashamed. Even against a fragment of a mighty demon, I froze up speechless."

"Demon? That thing was a demon?"

Emily blinked her green eyes twice.

"You didn't know? Master of the Spire Tower, devourer of starlight, Lord of the Abyss. All nicknames for the demon Haellagos."

"Haellagos? Demon Haellagos? Oh, that was him?"

He hadn't recognized the nicknames, but the name clicked.

Haellagos. Boss of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Withered Land.

No fancy titles in the game, but reality added flair.

A level 150 boss—heavy hitter with black magic and solid necromancy, as befitted an evil-worshipping demon. His Death Knight minions made it a nightmare.

"Gotta take him down."

"Pardon?"

"Said I gotta kill that bastard."

Strong bosses dropped strong loot. Haellagos's was the Ring of the Malevolent Spirit.

Priests and holy knights skipped it due to the faith debuff, but it was versatile jewelry for everyone else.

Yoahim remembered grinding it on alts.

To get stronger, he needed gear. Haellagos had gear. End of story.

He might not drop it directly like in-game, but it'd be in his lair for sure.

Plus, the quest demanded a meet. Choice-based, results varying—not forced to join him.

This could be his shot to power up his early-game Dark Knight.

Plan: Meet Haellagos, squeeze more power. Then backstab, kill, loot ring.

"I misunderstood you, Mr. Yoahim..."

Emily clasped her hands over her chest, eyes sparkling.

Curious what she'd say, Yoahim waited.

"When I heard you were the Apostle of the Evil God, my heart sank. Especially after he gifted you power. But you said you'd defeat Haellagos. I think standing against evil takes more courage than good deeds. You're overcoming your innate evil, truly seeking atonement."

Well, aren't you playing the one-man band.

Yoahim felt nothing about being the Apostle. He wasn't—he was just a gamer. Never worshipped the Evil God anyway. Why serve a deity too cheap for blessings?

Emily, clueless, beamed with genuine emotion, her green eyes glittering like emeralds. Her fervent gaze was a bit intense.

Yoahim winced and leaned back. "Uh, yeah, sure. If that's what you think."

He brushed it off and headed for the exit. A dimensional gate to the outside had spawned.

One last scan—no loot worth grabbing. No reason to linger.

Yoahim stepped toward the gate.

Behind him, Emily sighed wistfully. "Ah, how lacking in wisdom am I? So immature and pathetic. As a humble servant of Raello, I'm endlessly ashamed. I once chased the glory of a great saintess, vowing to become an adventurer... and this is the result."

He almost ignored her, but turned back. Her healing had cleared the dungeon. A word of comfort couldn't hurt.

"You did plenty well. You gave it your all—no need to beat yourself up. Nobody starts out great. We all fuck up and grow from it. One thing I'll say: keep at it. Grind harder."

Saying it feels cringy. Who am I to preach?

Yoahim cleared his throat and turned away. "C'mon, let's bounce. Back to the village for some rest."

"Yes, sir. 'Keep at it, grind harder'... Truly words worthy of a divine apostle."

Emily murmured it a few times, clenched her fists, and nodded vigorously. Fired up again.

She followed with determined steps.

The moment Yoahim took a step into the gate—

"If I work hard, can I become like Saintess someday? Like Liana, who slew countless demons alone and brought light to the world in Raello's stead!"

"Uh, yeah. Work hard."

Yoahim half-replied, right ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠leg stepping through.

Wait. Saintess who?

"Hey, what's the saintess's name again?"

"Lady Liana?"

"Liana? Wears a white robe with gold patterns, carries a staff topped with a fist-sized diamond?"

"Never seen her myself, but that's the rumor."

"Silver hair, pale eyes?"

"Heard that too."

Yoahim blinked.

No way—that was his priest alt.