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The Apostate in Grim Fantasy

To be a light in the dark. A man lacking in faith dies in a society where religion has fallen to Atheism, and is reborn in a dark fantasy where a mysterious dark fog threatens all. . . . For a mark of a cross ordains his hand, he is an Apostle to a God unknown to this world. (Original title was 'The Apostate,' but the name was taken already) Author’s Note: It could have worked for any religion or a made up religion, but I know Christianity better so it centers around it. The story about an apostle in a dark fantasy was something on my mind for a while.

Parcasious · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
32 Chs

Chapter 31: Revelation (13)

Beneath the slums of Amaranth was a spiraling underground cavern decorated with black money, obscene art, and an air of bastardized affluence that tried to imitate the grandeur of nobility. 

Noah had already expected this degree of corruption from the revelation displayed to him, but Annette was silently grinding her teeth the further the group traveled. While her family upheld the dignity and maintenance of Amaranth, what would it be like to discover a leach that had parasitized a substantial amount of wealth in a time where her father was bedridden? 

Considering the exorbitant treatment prices and repeated scams, Everbright had already taken a financial blow.

Annette, already guilty about wasting gold on scams, was particularly offended as she was the one blamed for the family's deficits. 

"How dare they?" Annette frowned, quietly following Noah's lead. 

Jacob and the other Knights were less taken in by emotion and were carefully assessing the viability of an ambush in an underground tunnel. Power would have to be reduced to prevent a sudden collapse, and most of their weapons would be limited to thrusts due to inadequate spacing. 

Fortunately, the group had yet to meet any resistance as their sudden intrusion into the underground space was unaccounted for by its overseer. Better yet, Noah was able to guide the group through with prophetic precision. 

In the end, Noah paused at the front of an enclosed room and carefully opened it with a grim countenance. 

"Don't touch the masks," Noah said in forewarning before opening the way for the others to enter behind him. 

Inside the room were rows of cuffs attached to chains on the walls where the ground was carved into a lower elevation. Like a make-shift irrigation canal, the grooves were dug into all sides of the room and pooled into a central drain where yellow liquid and brown matter spilled off into a disposal bin. 

The rancid smell alone made it readily apparent what the structure of the room was used for. The young children and teenagers chained to the walls in soiled clothing and dead eyes were what was truly appalling. 

A single dim candle was the only light source in the room, air filtered through small holes dug toward the surface. 

No one spoke a word upon taking everything in. 

The most distinct feature of all those kept captive in the room was a twisted wooden mask forcibly worn by each silent captive. 

"What in the Kingdom's name is-" Jacob clenched his jaw, drawing his sword to cut the people free along with the other Knights.

Annette was even quicker, bloodshot eyes narrowing as a wisp of flame flickered over her finger tips, magic silently channeled under her breath. 

"Stop." Noah said, shaking his head. "Not yet. The mask will kill them if you're not careful."

"What sort of cursed object is this?" Jacob asked, disgusted. 

"The Witch's magic," Noah revealed, crouching down to inspect the mask further. 

It was one thing to see it in a revelation than to see it in person. Oddly, the markings and magic etched into the wood weren't as sinister as Noah remembered. The pair of eyes staring through the wooden mask locked with Noah's, and suddenly, he stiffened. 

Noah had made every preparation to steel himself from what he had seen through a vision, but what happened now wasn't his fault. 

The crosses on the back of his hands glowed dimly in the low lighting and a new vision appeared before Noah's eyes. 

Different from before, it was no mere vision. 

Blinking, Noah found himself displaced, standing in a ruined street of Amaranth. Oddly enough, Noah recognized it as a place he, Leah, and John would frequent in their time in the slums. 

"What?" Noah murmured, taken aback. 

He cautiously raised his guard, glancing around him. The Witch specialized in illusions and obscure curses. Perhaps this was just another of her machinations. However, the glowing sign of the cross indicated otherwise. 

Lost in thought, Noah wandered the area out of habit. 

Everything was destroyed, black fog pervading the streets, but corpses of malformed monsters and humans alike littered the roads save for one area carefully maintained. 

Noah recognized it as the bakery shop where he, John, and Leah often took refuge and shared warm bread with one another. 

The entire perimeter was free of filth, and stood alone in the desolation. 

None of this was making sense. 

Noah glanced down at the crosses on his hands. 

What was it that the Lord was trying to show him? 

The Witch's magic didn't possess this level of ability. 

Then what was this? Another revelation? Another future he was meant to see? 

Soft footsteps suddenly echoed from behind Noah, prompting him to turn around, draw his sword and-

His breathing hitched. 

A silver haired woman draped in rags appeared, staring at him with shaking pupils. She appeared roughly his age, but her steps were unsteady, and she looked like the final vestiges of her sanity had finally snapped at the sight of him.

On her face was a wooden mask, partially destroyed, and revealing the lower half of her face. Aged, some features were still distinctly familiar. 

Noah could hardly maintain the grip on his sword. 

The eyes. More than just the silver hair, it was the eyes. 

"N-Noah?" The girl screamed, clawing at the remaining mask over her face to no avail. "Witch! Witch, I won't be tricked! Die Die! E-Even now, y-you dare!" 

It was not simply water that spontaneously appeared in her rage, but blood from nearby corpses forming into a hazy red mist. 

/-/

"What's wrong with him?" Annette furrowed her brows, glancing from Jacob, and then to Noah who'd frozen in place while staring at one of the room's captives. 

Jacob shook his head, inwardly annoyed. 

Noah had been the one to warm them to be careful and to avoid the masks, but he was the one who was seemingly caught? 

"This place shouldn't exist," Jacob chose not to dwell on the matter. 

As a Knight of the capital, no, even as a decent human being, he couldn't allow the existence of this underground space. 

"We'll destroy it all," Jacob decided. 

Annette had no qualms with the suggestion, and moved to retrieve Noah, but an abrupt change drastically altered the situation. 

"My, what a knightly thing to do to destroy a frail old woman's home?" An aged voice echoed as a scrawny elderly woman entered the room through some inexplicable means. 

No, she just appeared like she'd always been there. 

Wrinkles adorned her hands and face, but her crooked teeth belied an ill-intentioned smile. 

"I don't like uninvited guests." The old woman suddenly snapped her fingers, and like a lie, the area distorted. 

"Magic!" Annette warned, raising her mana in front of her as a shield. 

 All at once, the space suddenly expanded to the size of an open field, the shackled captives and Noah appearing behind the elderly woman. 

Annette balled her hands into fists. "You…are the Witch?!" 

Jacob and the other knights drew their swords. 

"Witch?" The old woman's expression twisted before she suddenly smiled. "Ah, so the Duke's daughter graces me with her presence?" 

Annette pursed her lips, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She didn't like the way the Witch was looking at her. 

"Call me old Margaret," the Witch cooed. "Hehe, you'll make a fine addition to the little sweetings." 

Annette shuddered as the witch pulled out a wooden mask from a sack she carried.

"Now come here and wear it proudly, become the property of old Margaret!" 

"You disparage the knights of the capital?!" Jacob roared, realizing the old woman was ignoring them. 

Outwardly, Jacob was showing indignation, but inwardly, he felt his gut sinking from the well of magic energy Margaret possessed. 

It was as he had feared. 

An aged Magic user. 

For this magic to effect such a wide area- a former war wizard? 

Jacob gripped his sword tighter.