Shrouded Seascape

Charles keeled over and panted heavily as he trembled. He was drenched in sweat, looking like he had just gotten out of the shower. He had just remembered it. The deleted memory had returned, and it showed him his encounter with Edikth.

The yellow iris he had encountered upon arriving in this strange world had to be Edikth. In other words, what had happened to him at the time hadn't been his imagination. He became Edikth's chosen one on that fateful day!

The Pope stared calmly at the panting Charles and leisurely ate his egg. After eating the egg, he squeezed the floating eggshell pieces into powder and stuffed them into his mouth, wasting nothing.

"Why... why was I chosen?" Charles muttered while staring at the Pope.

The Pope chewed thoroughly before swallowing. He took a moment to relish the food before saying, "Do you really think it's appropriate for you to ask me that question? You are His Apostle; why are you asking me?" 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

Charles wiped away the sweat on his forehead and said grimly, "How else would I know? How would I know what He's thinking?! I'm not even one of His believers!"

The Pope's expression was of pride as he looked at Charles.

"What's with that prideful look?" Charles asked coldly.

"How could I not feel pride? As expected, the great Light God is incomparable to any other Divinities. I'm both happy and proud that I became the Light God's chosen one," the Pope replied.

Charles' expression turned ugly at the remark.

The Pope leaned slightly toward Charles and whispered, "Do you really think your Divinity cares whether you believe in Him or not? Edikth has no followers throughout the seascape, and do you know why?" the Pope asked.

"Why?" Charles asked back.

"It seems that you are quite ignorant about the Divinity that has chosen you. To worship Edikth would result in destruction, not to mention Edikth never really needed the faith of pathetic human beings," the Pope replied.

"You became His chosen one simply because He noticed you once. Perhaps His glance had allowed you to receive some kind of special power from him.

"Of course, you've yet to master that power, but who knows what's going to happen once you do? Perhaps you'll become even stronger than me once you've mastered that power," the Pope added.

Charles looked down quietly at his palm and felt as though he could see tentacles covered in triangular eyes intermingled with mucus wriggling beneath his skin.

"Well, the matter is a bit more complicated for me to say for sure whether it's bad or good, but chosen ones are incredibly rare, which means the abilities they obtain are unique, and it is based on the disposition of their Divinity.

"My great Light God, for example, is selfless and kind; he has granted me great power along with a long life. As for your Divinity..." the Pope trailed off and examined Charles from top to bottom.

He patted Charles' shoulder with his wrinkled right hand.

"What is it?" Charles asked.

"You have to know that not every Divinity is as kind and amiable as the Light God, and becoming the chosen one of an evil Divinity is akin to shouldering a curse rather than a blessing.

"Think about Swann. He's technically the chosen one of the Feaster. The two of us are chosen ones, but do you really think that we're the same?" the Pope asked.

Charles' expression became uglier upon recalling Swann's grotesque appearance.

"What if I want to abandon my chosen one status? Is there any way to do it? Perhaps using sacrifices like the Fhtagnists?" Charles asked. He did not want to become a monster, and he would rather abandon the power that came with being a chosen one than become a monster.

"Fhtagnists' sacrifices? You ignoramus! Do you not have any idea about the reason for those sacrificial rituals? Do you really think that the Divinities care about the souls of paltry human beings?" the Pope asked.

Charles unconsciously stroked the tattoo on his neck, and then he replied, "I'm not sure, but the Fhtagnists' sacrificial rituals can be pretty useful."

Bandages' rituals always required sacrifices, but his rituals had never failed to achieve the desired results.

The Pope's expression turned into that of disdain as he said, "Just because it works doesn't mean that God Fhtagn actually cares about them. Come with me; let me show you what I'm talking about."

The Pope grabbed Charles' right hand. They then floated into the air; the scenery around Charles rapidly peeled away. When he came to his senses, he found himself floating above one of Hope Island's banana plantations.

Charles looked down and saw farmers wearing huge hats. Each and every single farmer moved carefully beneath the canopies, clearly afraid of getting hit by even the tiniest ray of the deadly sunlight

The Pope swept his gaze across the plantation before pulling over Charles to an ant nest. The two watched as the worker ants worked hard in queues while carrying a variety of items on their backs.

"Look at these ants. If we are these ants, then the Divinities are us. Do you really think that these ants will notice us because we are looking at them?"

"And take a look at this," the Pope said and placed a finger directly in front of the path that the worker ants had to take to reach the nest. The worker ants were instantly in chaos, all thanks to the disturbance.

"If these ants can think like humans, what do you think they would think of my finger?" the Pope asked.

"And let's say that my finger is emitting some kind of innate power," the Pope added. His finger emitted a soft golden light that inundated the ants, making them give off a golden sheen.

"If an ant happened to discover that it could take advantage of the power that my finger had bestowed upon them, wouldn't they form a religion to worship my finger as a god and offer it anything suitable as sacrifices?

"When it comes to the chosen ones, let's just say that I saw an ant that seemed a bit special, so I gave it a bit more power," the Pope said and tapped gently toward a certain ant.

The ant shone in a radiant golden light, making it seem as though it was made entirely out of gold.

The Pope sprawled out on the ground and continued. "And maybe all this happened because I was taking a nap here, and my finger happened to block the worker ants trying to get into their nest.

"Of course, I don't care about these ants at all, and I may forget that special ant after I wake up from my nap."

Charles stared deeply at the black ants and asked, "Are you saying that the ants worshiping the finger are the Fhtagnists?"

"No," the Pope said. He shook his head and retracted his finger. "I'm telling you that these ants and humanity are the same. It is simply impossible for them to understand anything beyond their comprehension.

"Humans think of human life as the most precious resource out there, so the Fhtagnists offer human lives to God Fhtagn as sacrifices, believing that God Fhtagn will be very pleased to receive their precious offerings.

"Those ignorant and disgusting freaks are always trying to understand their Divinity. We have desires, but does that mean Divinities surely have desires too? We hate and love, but does that mean Divinities are capable of feeling the same emotions as us?

"The Fhtagnists are especially ignorant for even trying to comprehend God Fhtagn using human knowledge and wisdom. In the end, they only managed to create a few stupid myths and stories.

"Little do they know that everything is just their wishful thinking. If God Fhtagn is truly like me to these ants, then he'll be extremely confused about what the ants around him were doing once he wakes up from his nap."