The Cult Leader in the Clergy Academy

Chapter 35

Humans were weak to pain, but they were even weaker to pleasure. It was much easier to instill faith through pleasure rather than to instill fear through pain. This was because people were usually wary of pain but not of pleasure.

Intermediate enthrallment, curse of intoxication.

With this spell, it was possible to inject pleasure and inspire faith in believers through a simple twitch of the finger. In the original Voodoo Cult, it was a spell that was considered forbidden, but this was of no concern. It was forbidden in the original Voodoo Cult, but not in the Voodoo Revival Church.

‘Why did the Second Cult Leader make certain spells forbidden? What a fool.’

The Zapduist Cult Leader couldn’t help but remember the second-generation cult leader who died without even leaving a corpse. He also recalled the goal that he had set for himself when he founded the Voodoo Revival Church.

He vowed never to hesitate to use any means and methods for the sake of achieving his goals. He vowed to continue to move forward and to destroy all the obstacles blocking his path.

While reaffirming his resolve, he cast the Voodoo spell toward the trio. They were the trio that defamed the glory of the Voodoo Revival Church while showing an arrogant attitude.

Soon, the purple mist from the spell array engulfed them.

They would soon forget all their worries and sorrows, and then they would laugh. They would laugh foolishly, pitifully, and hysterically. And eventually, they would shed tears as their brains became addicted to the pleasure, just as he did seven years ago.

"Ah, huh?"

However, they did not laugh. Rather, they stared at him with cold and emotionless eyes. The face that peeked through the mask looked strangely familiar. Soon, one of them began to trudge forward with bold steps. Voodoo magic flowed from their fingertips. Only then did he understand the situation.

"It must be a Voodoo Cultist."

Believers of the original Voodoo Cult had come to punish the Voodoo Revival Church. Then that would also explain why the spell didn't work. Voodoo Cultists typically had stronger resistance to Voodoo spells than ordinary people.

However, that was all. If their resistance to spells was strong, all one had to do was use a spell that was strong enough to ignore the resistance.

Intermediate enthrallment, curse of fainting.

The curse of fainting was much more difficult and powerful than the curse of intoxication. No matter how strong their spell resistance was, they wouldn’t be able to resist the curse of fainting.

First and foremost, it was important to subdue them. He would think about how to dispose of them later. He could turn them into zombies, or he could tie them up and feed them to the dogs.

“Hmm...”

However, the opponent did not faint. On the contrary, he continued to trudge forward with a look of indifference like before.

‘Their resistance is this strong?’

It was not a lesser but an intermediate enthrallment spell. The opponent’s spell resistance was incomparable to any of the random riff-raff small fry from the Voodoo Cult. He began to think that it was not an ordinary cultist but perhaps an executive. Executives had much stronger resistance to Voodoo spells than normal attendees. He himself had once been an executive of the Voodoo Cult, so he knew this fact better than anyone else.

'In that case, I need a stronger spell.’

He had to use a spell that was too strong to resist, even if he had to drag out all the Voodoo magic power from his body.

"Phew."

It had been a long time since he had used a spell that was greater than an advanced spell. He took a breath and ejected purified Voodoo magic from his fingertips. Then he drew a spell array.

Advanced enthrallment, curse of nightmares.

A fog covered the opponent. However, there was no effect. The opponent simply pierced through the fog and continued to advance gradually.

Advanced enthrallment, curse of anxiety.

There was no effect. The opponent didn’t stop and continued to come closer.

Advanced enthrallment, curse of delusion.

As expected, there was no effect.

Only then did he realize that it was not that the opponent's Voodoo spell resistance was strong. His own spell had not triggered in the first place. The opponent had dismantled his spells and rendered them null and void with a single twitch of his finger.

‘He’s not an executive. He’s...’

An executive could not interfere with another person's Voodoo spell array. It was because they didn’t have the skill necessary to do so. Only one person in the world had the ability to dismantle a Voodoo spell array by interfering with Voodoo magic power, essentially nullifying the Voodoo spell.

The Voodoo Leader.

Do Sun-Woo, the son of the Second Cult Leader.

He was the only one.

Sun-Woo could not be overpowered by Voodoo spells. Not only was his basic resistance strong, but his understanding of Voodoo spells was on a completely different dimension compared to normal attendees. If he hastily drew a spell, it would be dismantled before the spell would get a chance to activate.

“Marinette!”

The only option left was to use her power. He quickly called out to Marinette.

If someone not chosen by Loa used the power of Loa, there would be a strong backlash. It was entirely possible to vomit out blood and die.

But this was not the time to dwell on such matters. There was no time to hesitate. Immediately after calling for Marinette, he reached out his hand and focused on the ritual. Yet, no matter how much he concentrated, he couldn’t hear Marinette’s voice. The power of Loa had failed to activate. His outstretched hand wandered aimlessly through the air after losing its objective.

"Marinette! What are you doing? Hurry!"

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

In his desperation, he shouted Marinette’s name, but Marinette was only able to repeatedly tell him to run away with a voice filled with fear. Just what the hell was going on?

Flash–

At that moment, Sun-Woo stood in front of the Altar. He took out seeds from his pocket and poured them onto the Altar. Countless seeds glimmered bright green for a moment before turning into ash and disappearing. The meaning behind this was clear.

A sacrifice had been made.

The power of Loa, which had been weakened for an extended period of time, regained its original power.

[Hurry, run!]

"Ah, shi–"

He belatedly understood the situation and tried to run away, but it was already too late.

“Granbwa.”

With a calm voice, Sun-Woo’s fingertips sparkled green.

Crackle–!

When Sun-Woo touched the floor, there was a roar as if heaven and earth were being upturned. No, it wasn’t accurate to say ‘as if’ it were being upturned. The world had truly turned upside down.

The floor of the chapel tilted and lost its horizontality while huge cracks formed on the walls and the ceiling. Through the cracks, massive tree roots surged and rampaged like tentacles. The sacrifice that Sun-Woo had made to Granbwa was neither the root of the Soul Tree nor the branch of an ancient tree. He didn’t offer ripe fruits, nor were they green leaves that had absorbed the scent of spring.

They were just seeds.

They were just radish sprouts and lettuce seeds that he had bought with a measly eight thousand won at the mart along the way.

But that was enough.

Sun-Woo was the Loa's chosen prophet. Compared to other people, the power that he was able to unleash was unparalleled.

"Kehek...!"

He couldn't even move a single finger. It was because the tree roots had wrapped around his whole body tightly. Even breathing was difficult because the pressure weighed down on his lungs. He felt dizzy, and soon his eyes began to blur.

Then, he lost consciousness.

* * *

"Ugh, ughhh–!”

Due to getting tied up tightly by the tree roots, the cult leader foamed from his mouth and fainted.

Actually, it would have been quicker and easier to suppress the cult leader if I had used Voodoo sorcery. Nonetheless, I went out of my way to use Granbwa’s power. There was a reason for all this.

[It must have been because you wanted to try it out.]

“Oh, you’re absolutely right.”

The Altar was right in front of my eyes, and I also happened to have something that I could sacrifice. The Loa that resided in my head were all screaming for a sacrifice. It was a situation where using the power of Loa instead of Voodoo sorcery felt more natural.

Of course, that wasn’t the only reason why I used the power of Loa.

“Everyone, did you see?! The cult leader that you believed in is fake. This is the true Voodoo Cult, a miracle that can only be performed by the original Voodoo Cult Leader!”

Uncle Jin-Sung stole the microphone that the cult leader had been holding and made a speech. The believers were all listening to Uncle. It seemed like Uncle intended to absorb all the Zapduist believers into the Voodoo Cult. Since I had displayed a flashy performance by using the Loa’s power instead of Voodoo sorcery, the persuasiveness of Uncle’s words increased, and the promotional effect was magnified.

It wasn’t my original intention. However, it unexpectedly turned out well. While my uncle continued his speech, I picked up the loot from behind.

"Altar, water bottle, and no need for the rope... A leash? Hmm."

[Why do you need the leash? Throw it away. It's impure.]

"What's impure?”

[Of course, it's impure.]

"Huh?"

[...If you don't know, then that’s fine. Just don’t take it.]

I had no idea what was supposed to be so impure about it, but I decided not to take it for now. I stuffed the Altar, water bottle, and other miscellaneous loot into Baal's Maw.

Even after shoving all those items inside, the weight was still as light as ever, and the interior capacity was still spacious. It was the best dimensional storage item that I could ask for. Baal’s Maw truly provided its money’s worth.

"Then, I'll see you next time in the Voodoo Cult underground chapel!"

By the time I had roughly finished organizing, Uncle Jin-Sung's speech also came to an end. The believers rushed out of the underground chapel through the stairs. There were so many people that it took a few minutes for everyone to get out.

The empty chapel was desolate and at the same time, pitiful. Thanks to the tree roots that sprouted from the cracks in the chapel, the atmosphere was like an ancient ruin that had been left neglected for thousands of years.

While admiring the greatness of Granbwa’s power, I took a moment to look around and found that the scenery did not look as bad as I had initially thought.

"Cough, cough! Urgh...”

Before long, a cough cut through the silence. The unconscious Zapduist cult leader had just come back to his senses. With listless eyes, he looked around at the surroundings for a while and eventually lowered his head in despair as he saw the empty chapel.

"Ha, haha. Damn it."

He laughed like a madman. I approached him and removed his mask. The bare face that was exposed after removing the mask was strangely familiar. It was a face I had definitely seen when I was young.

"Han Su-Yeop?"

When I spoke the name that suddenly came to mind, he abruptly raised his head. My uncle, was quietly watching the scene with his arms crossed, and he raised his eyebrows.

"Oh? You're right. Isn’t he Han Su-Yeop?"

My uncle strode towards Han Su-Yeop, who was still wrapped around tree roots.

A mixture of anger, betrayal, and joy flashed across my uncle's face. Han Su-Yeop smiled ruefully when he saw Uncle and croaked, "...Glad to see you, Jin-Sung."

"Glad? Are you glad that you ran away by yourself? You damned traitor. And don't call me by name."

Smack.

Uncle struck Han Su-Yeop in the head really hard as he spoke.

When the Holy War broke out seven years ago, there was an incident where the Voodoo Cult executives fled as a group. Han Su-Yeop was one of the executives who fled at the time. Uncle labeled all the executives who ran away at the time as ‘traitors.’

"Where are the other traitorous bastards?” Uncle asked while grabbing Han Su-Yeop's hair and forcibly raising his head.

"I don't know."

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

My uncle pulled out a pen from his pocket and grasped it tightly. The tip of the pen popped up with a clicking sound. Uncle brought it in front of Han Su-Yeop’s eyes. Han Su-Yeop’s pupils, which were facing the sharp tip of the pen, trembled with fear.

"Again. Where are they?"

It looked like he would stab him at any moment if he didn’t answer. Ji-Ah gulped nervously as she watched the scene. As if scared out of his wits, Han Su-Yeop’s lips trembled as if he was terrified as he barely opened his mouth.

"I do–don’t know. I really don't know! I– I was also just barely able to hide. The rest of them all...!”

"All... All what? What happened to all of them? Finish your sentence.”

“...”

Han Su-Yeop shook his head without answering. My uncle was just about to poke him in the eye with the pen.

"Uncle, don't. There's a lot to ask.”

I stopped my uncle. There were still many things to ask Han Su-Yeop. I understood his anger, but there was nothing to be gained from gouging his eyes out right now. It would only make things more complicated if he died or passed out.

"Sigh, yes. There's a lot to ask."

Only then did it seem like Uncle regained his composure. He put his pen back in his pocket and crossed his arms. His eyelids trembled intermittently as if his anger had not completely cooled down. My uncle spent a while cooling off his anger before he sighed deeply.

"Where's all the money? There must be a place where you collected the donations, right?”

“...”

"Oh? You punk? You have no right to remain silent. You can't ask for a lawyer either. Where's the money?”

"I– I don’t have it. I burned it all. You saw it earlier as well,” Han Su-Yeop calmly lied.

I searched through the pile of donation boxes that had been burnt black and took out a bundle of money from inside. As Legba said, the only thing that was burnt was the donation box, and all the money inside was fine. After seeing the bundle of money, my uncle's face became complicated.

"You said you burned it, you punk."

Smack.

Uncle hit Han Su-Yeop's head once more. Han Su-Yeop looked at the bundle of cash with a perplexed look on his face and then suddenly shook his head like a madman.

“Tha-that’s all there is. It’s the truth. I burned all the rest and sent them–”

"You’re still lying? Should I just poke your eye out? You have no complaints, right? Just accept it nicely."

"Arggggh! Wait, wait!"

Uncle took out a pen and unveiled the tip. Then he slowly pushed the pen tip toward Han Su-Yeop's eye. Han Su-Yeop struggled frantically while being tied up.

As the pen tip was just about to reach Han Su-Yeop's pupil, Ji-Ah approached and tapped my shoulder.

"Mr. Cult Leader, there seems to be a suspicious door over there.”

She pointed to a corner of the chapel where there was a door. The paint on the door was so thick that it looked no different from the wall to the naked eye. It smelled suspicious.

"Ah, no... Not there! Faaaggghhh–!”

"Hey, no swearing."

As I walked toward the door, Han Su-Yeop yelled and tried to stop me. In response, my uncle hit Han Su-Yeop in the head. It looked like he had a lot of grievances stacked up.

I tried to ignore the sound of my uncle hitting Han Su-Yeop's head mercilessly and continued to walk onwards. The door was standing in front of me. Ji-Ah was with me, and she gulped as if she was nervous.

Click.

I turned the handle. The door was not locked.

Creeeaaak...

Soon, the door opened, along with a rather sinister and dreary sound.