The Heretic of Cleric Academy-Chapter 35

Humans are weak to pain, but they are even weaker to pleasure. It is much easier to inject faith through pleasure than to instill fear through pain.

This is because people usually guard against pain while not guarding against pleasure.

Intermediate illusion, intoxication.

Using this sorcery, he could inject pleasure into believers and inspire faith with just a flick of his finger.

This was a sorcery considered ’forbidden’ in traditional Voodoo, but he didn’t care. It was forbidden in ’traditional’ Voodoo, but not in the ’Voodoo Revival Church.’

’Why did the 2nd cult leader create such taboos? So rigid.’

He recalled the 2nd cult leader who had turned to ash and died without even leaving a corpse. Along with that, he remembered his goal when he first established the ’Voodoo Revival Church.’

For the sake of his goal, he would not be choosy about means and methods. If there were obstacles blocking his path, he would break them and move forward.

Steeling his resolve, he used sorcery. Toward those three who had mocked the ’Voodoo Revival Church’ yet showed such arrogant attitudes.

Soon, the purple mist created by the spell circle engulfed them.

They would soon forget all their worries and sorrows and laugh. Stupidly and miserably, laughing as if they had lost their minds, then eventually shedding tears as their brains became pickled in pleasure.

Just as he had 7 years ago.

"Huh?"

However, they did not laugh.

Instead, they were staring at him with cold and harsh eyes. The faces glimpsed under the masks looked strangely familiar.

Soon, one of them began walking toward him with confident steps. Voodoo magic power was flowing from his fingertips. Only then did he understand the situation.

’A Voodoo practitioner.’

A believer from traditional Voodoo had come to punish the Voodoo Revival Church.

That would explain why the sorcery didn’t work. Voodoo practitioners usually have stronger resistance to sorcery than ordinary people.

But that was all. If their resistance was strong, he just needed to use sorcery strong enough to ignore even that resistance.

Intermediate illusion, unconsciousness.

Unconsciousness sorcery had higher difficulty and stronger power than intoxication sorcery. No matter how strong their resistance, they couldn’t withstand unconsciousness sorcery.

Deciding what to do with them could come after. Whether to turn them into zombies or tie them up and feed them to dogs, subduing them came first.

"Hmm."

However, that person did not faint. Rather, he wore an indifferent expression and continued walking toward him step by step as before.

’His tolerance is that strong?’

It wasn’t just a low-grade but intermediate illusion sorcery. That person’s sorcery resistance was incomparably stronger than ordinary Voodoo practitioners. He might not be an ordinary believer but an executive.

Executives have stronger sorcery resistance than ordinary followers. He too had once been an executive of Voodoo, so he knew this fact better than anyone.

’Then, stronger.’

He had to use sorcery so strong that resistance was impossible.

Even if it meant using all the Voodoo magic power in his body.

"Phew."

It had been really long since he used advanced-level sorcery or higher. He regulated his breathing and emitted refined Voodoo magic power from his fingertips. Then he drew a spell circle.

Advanced illusion, nightmare.

Mist struck that person. But there was no effect. He continued approaching step by step through the mist.

Advanced illusion, anxiety.

No effect. He continued approaching without stopping.

Advanced illusion, delusion.

Again, no effect.

Only then did he realize. That person’s sorcery resistance wasn’t strong.

His sorcery hadn’t activated in the first place.

With just a flick of his finger, that person was dismantling and decomposing his spell circles, making them useless.

’Not an executive. That guy is...’

Executives can never interfere with others’ spell circles. They don’t have that ability.

There is only one person in this world who can interfere with others’ Voodoo magic power, dismantle spell circles, and ultimately prevent sorcery from activating.

The cult leader of Voodoo.

Do Seon-woo, son of the 2nd cult leader.

Only he could do it.

Do Seon-woo cannot be subdued by sorcery. Not only does he have strong basic resistance, but his understanding of sorcery is on a different level from ordinary followers. If you carelessly draw spell circles, they’ll be dismantled before the sorcery even activates.

"Marinette!"

Then only divine power remained. He urgently called upon Marinette.

Using divine power repeatedly in a body not chosen by Loa would cause strong side effects. He might even die coughing up blood.

But now was not the time to consider such things. There wasn’t even time to hesitate.

Immediately after calling Marinette, he stretched out his hand and concentrated his consciousness. But no matter how much he concentrated, Marinette’s voice couldn’t be heard. The divine power wasn’t being used. His outstretched hand lost its way and wandered in the air.

"Marinette! What are you doing, hurry!"

[Run, quickly. Legba! Ah, Legba! Legba is!]

In his urgent heart, he called Marinette’s name, but Marinette only repeated words about running away in a voice filled with fear.

What on earth was happening?

Swish...

Around that time, Do Seon-woo was standing in front of the altar. He took out some seeds from his pocket and poured them on the altar. Countless seeds briefly sparkled green, then turned to ash and disappeared. The meaning of this was clear.

An offering had been made.

And the Loa’s divine power, which had been weakened, regained its original strength.

[Quickly, run away!]

"Ah, damn it..."

He tried to flee after belatedly understanding the situation, but it was already too late.

"Granboa."

With a calm voice, his fingertips sparkled green.

Crash!

When Do Seon-woo placed his hand on the floor, a roar erupted as if heaven and earth were turning upside down. No, it wasn’t ’as if.’

Heaven and earth were really turning upside down.

The chapel floor had lost its level and tilted, while huge cracks appeared in the walls and ceiling. Through the cracks, massive tree roots writhed like tentacles and surged forth.

The offering Do Seon-woo had made to Granboa was neither the roots of a soul tree nor even branches of an old tree. It wasn’t ripe fruit, nor even green leaves full of spring fragrance.

Just seeds.

8,000 won worth of mung bean and lettuce seeds bought at a mart on the way.

But that was enough.

Do Seon-woo was a prophet chosen by Loa. The divine power he wielded was incomparably mighty.

"Kehehh...!"

He couldn’t move a single fingertip. It was because tree roots had wrapped around his entire body without gaps. His lungs were crushed by the pressure, making even breathing difficult. He felt dizzy, and his vision began to blur darkly.

And his consciousness was cut off.

* * *

"Keurk, kkeueuk!"

The cult leader was bound all over by tree roots, foaming at the mouth before fainting.

Actually, if I had used sorcery, I could have subdued the cult leader more easily and quickly, but I deliberately used Granboa’s divine power instead. There were reasons for this.

[You just wanted to try using it once.]

"Oh, that’s accurate."

There was an altar before my eyes, and I had suitable offerings to make. The Loa in my head were screaming for offerings. It was much more natural to use divine power rather than sorcery in this situation.

Of course, I didn’t use divine power for this reason alone.

"Did you see that! The cult leader you’ve believed in until now is fake. This is the miracle wielded by the real Voodoo cult leader, the original Voodoo cult leader!"

Uncle Lee Jin-seong had taken the microphone the cult leader was holding and gave a speech. All the believers were listening attentively to uncle’s words.

Uncle seemed to be thinking of absorbing all the fake Voodoo believers into Voodoo and bringing them over. Thanks to me showing a flashy performance using divine power instead of sorcery, uncle’s words gained persuasiveness and the promotional effect was doubled.

It wasn’t intentional, but it worked out well anyway.

While uncle gave his speech, I collected loot from behind.

"Altar. Water container. No need to take the rope. Collar? Hmm."

[What would you take a collar for? Throw it away. It’s impure.]

"What’s impure about it?"

[Of course it’s impure.]

"What?"

[...If you don’t know, forget it. Anyway, don’t take it.]

I didn’t know what was impure about it, but I decided not to take it for now.

I stuffed the altar, water container, and other miscellaneous loot all into Baal’s Maw.

Even after all those items went in, the weight remained light. The internal space still had room. It was truly like a fourth-dimensional pocket. It was worth the expensive price.

"Then, we’ll see you next at the Voodoo chapel!"

By the time I finished organizing, Uncle Lee Jin-seong’s speech also ended. The believers filed out of the chapel through the stairs. There were so many it took several minutes just for them to leave.

The chapel after all the believers left was desolate and simultaneously wretched. Due to tree roots extending from cracks everywhere, it had the atmosphere of ancient ruins abandoned for thousands of years.

While admiring the power of Granboa’s divine power, I quietly looked around at the scenery because it wasn’t as bad as I thought.

"Kkulk, kehuk! Kheoh..."

Eventually, coughing sounds came through the silence. The fake Voodoo cult leader who had been unconscious had just regained consciousness.

He looked around with dazed eyes for a while, then saw the empty chapel and hung his head in apparent despair.

"Ha, haha. Damn it."

He laughed as if he had lost his mind. I approached and removed his mask.

The bare face revealed under the mask was strangely familiar. It was definitely a face I had seen when I was young.

"Han Su-yeop?"

When I spoke the name that suddenly came to mind, he quickly raised his head. Uncle, who had been watching the scene quietly with arms crossed, raised his eyebrows and spoke.

"Huh? That’s right? It’s Han Su-yeop?"

Uncle walked briskly toward Han Su-yeop, who was bound by tree roots.

Various emotions like anger, betrayal, and excitement mixed and appeared on uncle’s face. Seeing uncle, Han Su-yeop smiled awkwardly and spoke.

"...Good to see you, Jin-seong."

"Good to see me? After running away alone? You traitor bastard. And don’t call me by my name."

Smack.

Uncle struck Han Su-yeop’s head hard.

Seven years ago when the Holy War broke out, there was an incident where Voodoo executives fled en masse. Han Su-yeop was one of the executives who fled at that time. Uncle collectively called the executives who fled at that time ’traitors.’

"Where are the other traitor bastards?"

Uncle grabbed Han Su-yeop’s hair and forcibly raised his head as he asked.

"I don’t know."

"Oh, you don’t know? Should I help you remember?"

Uncle took out a pen from his pocket and gripped it. Click, the pen tip was extended with a sound. Uncle brought it close to Han Su-yeop’s eyes. Han Su-yeop’s pupils shook with fear at the sharp pen tip before him.

"Again. Where are they?" 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

He seemed ready to stab immediately if there was no answer. Kang Ji-ah, who was watching the scene, gulped nervously. Han Su-yeop trembled his lips in terror and barely managed to speak.

"I, I don’t know. I really don’t know! I also barely hid. The rest are all...!"

"All what. Say it to the end."

"..."

Han Su-yeop shook his head without answering. Uncle tried to stab his eyeball with the pen.

"Uncle. Don’t. We have a lot to ask him."

I stopped uncle.

There was still much to ask Han Su-yeop. I understood he was angry, but there was nothing to gain by gouging out his eyeball right now. Rather, if he died or fainted, things would become troublesome.

"Phew, right. There’s a lot to ask."

Uncle seemed to regain his composure, putting the pen in his pocket and crossing his arms.

His anger didn’t seem completely cooled, as his eyelids trembled intermittently. After calming his anger for a while, uncle sighed deeply and spoke again.

"Where’s all the money? There must be a place where you’ve collected donations."

"..."

"Huh? This bastard? You don’t have the right to remain silent. You can’t even get a lawyer. Where’s the money?"

"Th, there isn’t any. I burned it all. You saw it earlier."

Han Su-yeop brazenly lied.

I rummaged through the donation boxes that had turned black and ashy, pulling out the money bundles inside. As Legba had said, only the donation boxes had burned while all the money inside was intact.

Uncle’s face became complicated seeing the money bundles.

"You said you burned it, you bastard."

Smack. Uncle hit Han Su-yeop’s head once more. Han Su-yeop looked at the money bundles with a bewildered expression, then shook his head frantically.

"Be, besides that, there’s nothing. Really. All the other money was burned and sent to heaven..."

"You’re still being like this. Should I just gouge out your eyeball? No complaints, right? Take it gracefully."

"Aaaahhh! Wait, wait!"

Uncle took out his pen and extended the tip. Then he slowly brought the pen tip to Han Su-yeop’s eyeball. Han Su-yeop struggled for a while while bound.

When the pen tip was almost touching Han Su-yeop’s pupil, Kang Ji-ah approached and tapped my shoulder.

"Cult Leader. Over there, there’s a suspicious door."

She pointed to the far corner of the chapel. There was a door there. It was painted thickly with paint, making it look little different from a wall to the naked eye. It smelled suspicious.

Before moving toward the door, I glanced at Han Su-yeop’s face. His face was hardened with despair. It was certain there was something important inside.

"No, you can’t...! Not there! You can’t go there! Aaahhh!"

"’You’ is informal speech."

When I moved toward the door, Han Su-yeop screamed loudly trying to stop me. Uncle hit such Han Su-yeop’s head. It seemed he had accumulated quite a lot over the years.

Ignoring the sound of uncle mercilessly hitting Han Su-yeop’s head, I moved my steps. Soon I stood in front of the door. Kang Ji-ah, who was with me, nervously gulped.

Click.

I turned the handle. The door wasn’t locked.

Creak...

The door finally opened. With a somewhat eerie and spine-chilling sound.