After Safely Finishing Worship
After the worship service wrapped up without a hitch, in the back room of the underground chapel.
"Uncle, I told you not to hand out these flyers."
"If we don't do something like this, the donations dry up. Don't you know our followers are dwindling?"
"Fine, if you're gonna distribute flyers, at least make them properly. What's with this design?"
I picked up one of the flyers scattered on the floor and held it up. Rainbow gradient background with a font that completely ignored readability. It was a design of utter catastrophe.
"What's wrong with it? Isn't it cool?"
But Uncle seemed utterly oblivious to the problem. I squeezed my eyes shut and pinched the bridge of my nose. My head throbbed.
Lee Jin-seong. My maternal uncle and the Voodoo Cult's priest. The very same man who'd handed me the mic during worship earlier. He handled all the administrative affairs for the cult and was an incredibly capable informant too. A jack-of-all-trades in many fields, but when it came to aesthetics... he wasn't just lacking—he had none.
"Change the design. Or better yet, hire a new designer."
"Hey, hiring costs money too. What's wrong with a rainbow background? It's sleek and modern!"
"Sleek? Ha, forget it."
I shook my head, realizing it was a losing battle. Pushing past him, I headed to my room.
The room reeked of damp mold. I wanted to air it out, but there were no windows. I flopped onto the bed in the corner. The blanket was soggy with moisture.
"Ugh."
Can't be helped in an underground spot like this.
A voice echoed in my head as I grumbled. It was the voice of the Loa dwelling within me.
This Loa's name was Legba. The mediator between humans and Loa, leader over all other Loa. Fitting his status, Legba's powers and spells were said to far surpass human understanding in their might.
Or so Legba himself claimed.
I never lie. It's all true.
"Sure, I believe you."
I nodded while lying on the bed. It was probably true. Though I'd never seen it with my own eyes.
Right now, without an altar, I can't show my true prowess.
"I didn't say anything."
Just checking since you seem skeptical. Stop whining and reclaim that altar already.
Legba added with clear annoyance. I ignored him.
Tuning out his grumbling, I waved my right hand through the air. A purple glow seeped from my fingertips. Using it like paint, I drew a spell circle in the void. Intersecting purple lines and curves formed the pattern.
Soon, eerie purple mist billowed from the completed circle. High-grade Illusion, a mind-bending delirium spell.
If Romanica had Divine Power, Voodoo had Voodoo Magic. Draw a spell circle to cast spells, with Voodoo Magic serving as the paint.
Impressive.
Legba murmured in admiration. As the Voodoo Cult Leader, I was proficient in wielding Voodoo Magic and drawing spell circles. Top of the industry, you could say. The issue? Barely any chances to use it.
The world branded Voodoo a heresy, hunting down and punishing its followers. For regular believers, that was bad enough—for the leader like me, it was a death sentence. If exposed, I'd burn at the stake just like my father, the Second Cult Leader.
Don't worry so much. Just don't get caught. And you won't.
"Never worried."
With no face or name revealed—not even basic personal info—the risk was minimal. But using Voodoo Magic would expose me as leader. So I couldn't.
I dismissed the spell circle with my right hand. Then, with my left, I drew in the air again. The glow was pure white this time. Not Voodoo Magic—Divine Power.
Low-grade Strength Enhancement Blessing.
Pathetic.
Legba clicked his tongue. Even I could see it. Compared to the spell circle, this blessing circle looked crude. Especially right after the high-grade one, the gap felt huge.
Don't get down. Being able to handle both Divine Power and Voodoo Magic is impressive enough.
Legba tried to console me, but it didn't help. I collapsed back onto the bed, conflicted.
My specialty, Voodoo Magic, was off-limits. And my talent for Divine Power was sorely lacking. At this rate, forget high priest—I might not even graduate Florence.
You don't have to become a high priest. Living as Voodoo Leader isn't so bad.
"I hate that."
No guarantee your mother's even alive.
"She is."
The Holy War seven years ago. Father died; Mother was imprisoned in the Papal Vaults. Access was restricted to cardinals and above. I'd become a high priest to see her. That was why I entered Florence.
*
The next day, my steps to school felt heavy. I'd napped briefly in the underground chapel yesterday, only returning to my apartment at night. Uncle had gifted it for my Florence enrollment. Commuting from the chapel risked suspicion, so I'd live there during school.
It was walkable distance—convenient, but mornings alone felt lonely. That heaviness in my steps today stemmed from it.
Dragging my feet for minutes, a mystical, grand sight finally appeared—one I never got used to.
A fence surrounded by fresh greenery and new buds. Beyond it, the Gothic main building and surrounding structures. Sunlight poured down like a blessing. Florence Academy's campus.
Nice facilities. Meanwhile, we're rotting underground with mold for worship.
I brushed off Legba's complaints. Strolling the natural path, I headed to the freshman building.
Soon, I reached the classroom. A sign above read "1st Year, Charity."
I opened the door without hesitation and took an empty seat by the window in the back.
Drag!
Someone burst in energetically. Clutching the attendance book in one arm, she beamed warmly from the podium.
"Hello. Looks like everyone's here."
Charity Class homeroom teacher, apparently. Ha Ye-jin.
Tap tap!
She rapped the podium with her pointer. Students looked up from their studies.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Ha Ye-jin, your Charity homeroom teacher for the year. Please take care of me. Any aspiring priests here?"
A third raised tentative hands.
"More than I expected—great. I'm also the Divine Power instructor and priest track professor. We'll see you in class often."
Ha Ye-jin's smile deepened, dimples forming on her cheeks.
"Anyway, welcome to Florence. It's different from middle school—tougher classes, more practice. Adaptation won't be easy, but it'll get smoother."
She continued with a gentle smile.
"You're probably nervous and excited. Enjoy it—it's a freshman privilege."
Instead of scaring us, she encouraged. Her soft tone and constant smile were lovely. Great first impression. With her as homeroom, the year looked smooth.
"Oh, and there's someone I hate."
Her face hardened abruptly, sending chills.
"Those committing blasphemy, infringing on faculty rights, the Seven Deadly Sins... or idol worshippers, cult believers. If any are here, I'll expel them myself."
She smiled again.
"Of course! As long as you're not, I'll treat you with love. Don't disappoint me."
I swallowed hard. Idol worshippers. Cult believers. That was me.
Idol worship? You serve the true gods—us Loa.
Believing in Loa was idolatry and heresy post-Holy War. Noble Legba aside.
Don't sass me.
"That's roll call. Oh, Bae Seong-hyeon?"
"Yes."
A tall, handsome boy stood at her call. Freshman rep, Charity Holy Mark holder, Bae Seong-hyeon.
"Class president is Bae Seong-hyeon. Holy Mark holders take the role. No changes usually. Do your best."
"Understood, teacher."
He bowed and sat. Ha Ye-jin smiled at him, then left with the book.
The room buzzed as she exited. Kids chatted, easing new semester tension. Except me.
I had no friends. Some mingled eagerly, but none approached me. They flocked to Bae Seong-hyeon, the president.
"How'd you get the Charity Holy Mark?"
"Did well on entrance exams. Dad donates, so I did too. Probably that."
"Wow..."
They admired him; he preened. I buried my face on the desk, overhearing despite myself. Eavesdropping felt pathetic.
Don't feel lonely.
Legba consoled, but I didn't need it. No friends didn't sadden me much. Rarely felt lonely. Just glad no bullying.
In middle school, a memorable kid's parents were Satanists, imprisoned. He endured vicious bullying. Committee formed, but bullies got slaps on wrists; he transferred. Without my disguise, I'd be him.
Uncle's fake ID: Mom died as paladin in Holy War, Dad priest abroad. It got me into Florence, avoided guilt-by-association bullying.
Though no friends either.
Not important.
Right. My goal: high priest to see Mom. No time for friends. Focused on Divine Power training. And for high priest, shine in today's physical test.
*
First day, most classes were orientations. Teachers needed goodwill before "that day" a month later. Starting hard would draw ire. No sane teacher would.
Usually.
"Welcome. I'm Kim Bok-dong, Practical PE and paladin track prof. We'll do practice today. No complaints."
Shockingly, one did. Kim Bok-dong dragged even unprepared kids to the field. Amid swirling sand, he explained.
"Practical PE. New subject. Priests don't need basic fitness alone. Why? Anyone?"
Awkward silence. No answers, me included.
A tall boy raised his hand confidently.
"Name?"
"Bae Seong-hyeon."
"Blessings enhance physical abilities temporarily."
"Right. Priests boost with blessings. No need for basics then?"
I shook my head. Priests train harder.
Kim Bok-dong hefted a kettlebell-like weight.
"No—basic fitness maximizes blessing efficiency."
He tossed it lightly. It arced skyward—flew.
Thud!
It crashed mid-field, sand cloud rising. Roughly 200m? Too far to gauge.
"No blessing, pure strength. About 250m. With blessing?"
He drew a blessing circle with Divine Power. Low-grade Strength Enhancement. Light wrapped his arm. Tossed again—over the fence.
I gaped. Monster.
"Low-grade boosts 1.5x. Training pulls 3x. That's why PE. Raises proficiency too."
He held another weight.
"Enough talk. Fitness test today—throw farthest wins top score, scaled down. Blessings free. Questions?"
Bae Seong-hyeon raised hand.
"Sorry if wrong, but heard perfect score without distance."
"Forgot. No one can, but explaining's fine."
Kids perked up.
He tapped the weight.
"Throw past 50m, predict landing, catch it. Perfect regardless. Special condition."
Hope turned despair. 50m throw plus dash? Impossible strength and speed.
Not for me either. Unless that power.
"Start. Class pres, Charity Holy Mark Bae Seong-hyeon first."
He stepped up, sighed, fired Divine Power. Drew circles fast.
Mid-grade Strength, Low-grade Nerve, Low-grade Recovery... That's all I recognize.
High-level blessings on his arm. Threw.
Whoosh—Boom!
"Bae Seong-hyeon, 212m!"
We were speechless. Charity Holy Mark grants Pope's Mighty Strength Blessing. Super strength, shareable—true charity.
His power stemmed from it.
"Bae Seong-hyeon."
"Yes."
Kim Bok-dong smiled.
"Good base, but blessing use masterful. Recovery minimized injury, maxed mid-strength. Exemplary. Learn from him—if you can."
Bae grinned, suppressing joy.
"Thank you!"
"Back."
Kids eyed him with awe/envy. He basked.
"Next, Gu Jun-hyeok."
Throws followed: misses, groans. Few shone. End neared: Bae 1st, Gu 162m 2nd, Jeong In-ah 143m 3rd.
"Do Seon-woo."
Last. No attention—sore shoulders, Divine overuse fatigue.
At line, I used Low-grade Strength Enhancement. Light on arm. Secretly, invoked a Loa power.
As I readied, Kim Bok-dong tilted head.
"Done?"
"Yes."
"Blessings free. Why only low strength?"
"Uh..."
Hesitated. Embarrassing.
"That's the only one I know."
He nodded. Snickers escaped.
Told you!
"Proceed."
He watched, arms crossed, low expectations.
Hoisted 10.25kg weight—light, thanks to blessing and Loa.
Loa, Bosu responds to the prophet's call.
Bosu. Loa who tore 1,000 enemies barehanded. Bull symbol. Power: superhuman strength beyond limits, near-miraculous.
Whoosh!
Threw. Slight slip—won't beat 212m. Fine. Not my goal.
Crunch. Crunch.
Crouched, powered legs. Bosu's might surged. Knees creaked oddly.
Whoosh!
Dashed explosively, sand flying. Goal: catch my throw for perfect score.
Bosu's symbol? Bull. Bulls charge.
(To be continued)