I Became the Priest of Blasphemy of the Outer Gods

Chapter 131. Ospryng (2)

“It feels like I’m in an escape room game or something,”

I muttered.

The scenery in Lilybell’s room was evocative of a mystery novel, exuding an aura of enigma.

It became even clearer after I moved Charlotte aside, revealing a plethora of research materials and old artifacts.

“They must have been quite desperate,”

I noted.

Most of it was just odds and ends, many of which were adorned with what appeared to be faux Outer God languages.

“This is…”

I said, trailing off.

As I scanned the items strewn across the desk, my eyes caught a painting hanging on the wall.

It depicted a middle-aged man dressed in aristocratic garb, with a backdrop of snowy mountains.

What drew the most attention was what was depicted beneath his feet.

“What is this? A monster?”

I pondered.

The distorted human form was different from the humans I’d seen in the wildlands.

These creatures, already vanquished, had grey skin and decomposing bodies.

“Baron Dearbell Ospryng,”

I murmured.

The man in the painting was an ancestor of Lilybell. Unlike the current Ospryng family, filled with frail sicklings, I found myself drawn to the lively depiction of Dearbell.

“Why is this here?”

I wondered.

A painting of this size would typically hang in a living room or hallway.

Lilybell had deliberately brought it to her room, and it was unlikely to be merely for aesthetic appreciation.

“The painting itself is ordinary. It looks like I’ll have to dig through these documents,”

I sighed.

How long would it take to search thoroughly here?

“I’ll have to give it a try,”

I decided.

Dice roll. Information gathering test.

“5.”

“Hah… a failure,”

I sighed.

I muttered in frustration, but it was a common occurrence. And there was no need to quit just over a failure.

“I might need to take some risks… but what do I have to lose?”

I thought.

Reroll. An act of attempting the same action again by rolling the dice a second time.

Typically allowed only once, it could lead to various mishaps upon further failure.

Dice roll. Information gathering retest.

Rattle. The sound of dice rolling brought a slight tension.

“17.”

“Whew… That’s better,”

I said with satisfaction as I leaned on the desk.

I accidentally grabbed an old book that happened to be there.

“Is this what I should look at?”

I wondered.

I opened the book and began reading its contents. It was the diary of Dearbell Ospryng, the subject of the portrait.

* * *

Beyond the empire, past the wildlands, over the kingdom of Are, continuing northwards, one would find the snowy plains.

An extreme environment comparable to the harshness of the wildlands, it possessed something that excited explorers—a land of unknown mysteries.

Once devoid of any titles and merely a young man full of drive, dearbell ventured forth on an adventure.

– No matter how I strive within the empire, all the lucrative opportunities have already been seized by someone. Rather than living in poverty for the rest of my life, I’ll risk my life to carve out my path!

As good as his ambition was, the snowy plains were unforgiving.

He had to contend with food shortages and faced attacks from unidentified beasts.

– Having these comrades is a saving grace. They are all so professional and helpful.

Dearbell journeyed with approximately five comrades.

Although his comrades were experienced explorers, dearbell himself was somewhat lacking due to this being his first expedition.

However, he had one area where he was confident—combat. Dearbell gradually became adept at hunting the beasts in the snowy plains.

– There truly are all sorts of creatures here. And some seem not to be mere beasts or monsters.

Dearbell began to sense that there was something different about the snowy plains. The first clue came in the form of footprints.

– These footprints… they’re definitely human in form and size. There’s also a trail of something being dragged. But barefoot? In these snowy plains?

According to Dearbell’s records, the plains boasted such low temperatures that even wearing multiple layers wouldn’t stave off the cold.

The idea of humans wandering around barefoot in such an environment suggested they were far from ordinary entities.

– I found traces of blood. It seemed more like murder by a human than an ordinary beast attack, judging by the dents in the discovered skull.

Dearbell’s comrades advocated for halting the exploration at this point.

Having gained nothing yet, and only facing increasing danger, it was a natural conclusion.

Despite this, dearbell insisted on continuing, leading to heightened friction.

Ultimately…

– A casualty occurred.

His comrades began to fall one by one. The traces made it clear these were murders.

– They moved quietly amidst the blizzard. More persistent and chilling than the hungry wolves of the snowy mountains. Sometimes they left traces way too close for comfort.

Dearbell and his comrades, eventually deciding on a retreat, were pursued relentlessly.

– Today, I encountered them. Were they really human? I could hardly call them kin.

Wielding weapons made of human bones, they seemed more like bloated waterlogged corpses than humans.

They spoke in what felt like a blasphemous language, adorned with ominous tattoos on their bodies.

Dearbell and his comrades were certain they were cultists of an Outer God.

– I succeeded in killing them. I fought like a madman. Like a beast for survival.

The battle was depicted as bitterly brutal. At one point, when one of them bit into his arm, the flesh began to rot, forcing Dearbell to cut it off.

“Feels like a zombie apocalypse,”

I mused.

Hiding within the blizzard, waiting to strike, these entities had placed Dearbell and his comrades in an extreme situation where even sleep was a luxury.
The wounds inflicted by them festered severely, leading to bizarre diseases, leaving no room for error. One comrade barely grazed by them died slowly in agony.

– His bones grew out of his skin, and his eyes and tongue decayed and crumbled. Even healing potions or various herbs were useless, so I had to let him rest in peace.

Avoiding contact should have been sufficient, but they seemed to use weapons like blowguns as well.

– These must have been truly dangerous to humans who were only 1st or 2nd rank.

– All my comrades are dead. I’m alone now. How long can I hold out against those who hunt me day and night?

Despite the despair present in the descriptions, dearbell ultimately survived multiple lethal battles.

– This is the end with these cannibals. I think I’ve killed them all.

Dearbell found their lair and acquired many precious metals stored within it. These belonged to the murdered victims—but that wasn’t all.

– There is an unspeakable, unpleasantly shaped statue. I burned it and left.

“… Is that all?”

I asked aloud.

The following content only mentioned his return home and acquiring a barony using his newfound wealth.

“If there had been anything crucial written here, Lilybell would’ve surely told me.”

Was the trouble stemming from the bite by a cultist of an Outer God?

Among the mentioned entries, that was the only suspicious part.

“With just that, would they endure persistent maladies through generations? Especially when the arm was even amputated.”

I couldn’t discern the problem entangling this family solely from the content in this book.

“Yet, the dice roll pointed me to this book.”

As I turned the pages, I noticed an odd sensation beneath my fingertip. Gently feeling the paper with my fingers, I discovered small grooves.

They weren’t simple pen marks or rough surfaces typical of parchment.

“New lettering?”

I speculated.

As I traced the faint grooves, I felt the presence of other letters.

“It doesn’t fail to be a revelation from Lilybell’s ancestor… But at least it’s not recorded at a granule-sized scale.”

– I’m truly at my limit. The food is all gone, and the blizzard is relentless.

It appeared to be after the extermination of the creatures, within the lair of those things.

He managed to gather all valuables but was trapped inside, unable to leave.

“He wouldn’t be hiding trivial matters like being stranded in this way, right?”

Calmly, I continued reading.

– If it goes on like this, I’ll starve to death. Do I have to die like this? After surviving so far? After coming all the way here?

Desperation seeped from the text. On the brink of starvation, dearbell made a choice.

– I ended up eating their corpses. I had no choice but to survive. My insides feel twisted each time I consume them.

‘Cannibalism, huh. It’s not an entirely incomprehensible situation, but of all things, the one they chose to eat…’

He consumed the bodies of Outer God’s cultists. Though human, they were severely twisted and mutated beings.

Although Dearbell boiled and cooked them to the utmost extent, mere heat wasn’t enough to avert the devastation summoned by an Outer God.

“Dearbell never left records of suffering from illness. So, this incident was how it all started.”

Moreover, from Dearbell’s records, I could predict which Outer God the cultists worshipped.

“【Twisting Harbinger of Ruin】,”

I concluded.

Through the dagger possessed by Eldritch, I was already aware of the existence of this Outer God, but encountering the name once more made me sigh.

“Being entangled with an Outer God who delights in warping humans…”

An Outer God filled with malice. Generally, such beings paid little mind to minute, insignificant humans, but “The Corrupter” was an exception.

“Nevertheless, the presence of an Outer God’s aura feels faint.”

It likely wasn’t imposing a severe influence. Had it been intensely impacting, this place would have turned into an apocalyptic zone akin to a zombie infested wasteland.

“The ghouls targeting the people here must be connected… Do ghouls serve The Corrupter?”

Sometimes even members of the same race worship different Gods. While pondering this, I sought to find Gerald in the room.

“Professor! How did it go?”

Gerald looked at me with a peculiar air of anticipation.

“I found the cause, but not the solution.”

“… Really?”

Gerald blinked in surprise at my words.

“You found the cause?”

“Yes, although I’ll need to verify its certainty.”

Dearbell mentioned feeling like his insides were twisting. Perhaps there was an issue with the organs? While ordinary tests wouldn’t detect it…

“Are you suggesting…?”

“Yes, it’s possibly treatable. But there’s little time, so…”

Before proceeding, I swiftly rendered Gerald unconscious with Gluttony.

What I was about to do couldn’t be shown to him, though it didn’t matter with the other patients since they were already comatose.

“Now then… let’s see the extent of the transformation wrought within a body just from consuming a cultist of The Corrupter.”

With a flourish, I extended Gluttony’s tendrils toward the patients.