I Accidentally Created a Villainous Organization

Chapter 77: Praise the Black Saint (4)

I stared blankly at the scene unfolding before my eyes.

People bowing their heads towards me.

‘White hair.’

Even the elderly men, who appeared well into their years, were bowing to me.

They were prostrating themselves so low that, with just a little more effort, they could kiss the ground.

This alone was enough to make my head spin.

But the bizarre behavior of these priests didn’t end there.

“Aah…”

Some of them looked like they should be taken straight to a mental hospital.

And then, something bright yellow caught my eye.

At first, I thought it was some form of divine power radiating out... but...

Divine power doesn’t have a smell.

And it’s not something that should stain pristine white priestly robes.

It was all too obvious what that yellow liquid was.

I could only watch helplessly as the bright yellow stream made its way toward the prostrating old man.

However, to my surprise, the old man didn’t even flinch when the liquid touched him.

Should I be relieved? Or horrified?

I really didn’t know.

The whole scene made me dizzy, and I began to wonder if I had somehow wandered into a nursing home instead.

The awe I had felt earlier—the overwhelming presence of a powerful being—

The tension that had made me fear for my life, thinking I could die at any moment—was long gone.

Sure, divine power might be more specialized for healing or exorcism rather than attack,

And most seasoned priests were also proficient in magic, making them formidable enemies with both relentless vitality and strength.

I knew they weren’t to be underestimated...

But who could maintain any sense of tension around people acting like ‘this’?

I was barely managing to hold back the urge to ask if they were all on drugs. Honestly, I deserved praise just for that.

I looked again at the people in front of me.

I needed to understand what was happening, at least to some degree.

Thankfully, not everyone had lost their minds.

In this chaotic mess, there was just one person.

One who still had a grasp on reality.

A middle-aged man with brown hair.

He had been staring at me and asking me questions for a while now. At least this guy seemed like he might…

“You have always been watching over us. Always. And yet we…”

...be reasonable.

My fleeting hope was shattered in an instant.

The middle-aged man suddenly began to weep mournfully.

His eyes held a whirlwind of emotions.

As he gazed at me with that worn-out face, I could see regret, affection, and obsession in his eyes.

A kind of twisted affection that no one would ever desire. And even if there were some twisted soul somewhere who did, it wouldn’t be me. I wanted nothing to do with it. ꞦåＮỖ𐌱ЁS

Naturally, a headache started to form.

‘What exactly is “The Black Fangs” to these lunatics?’

This whole mess.

There was only one plausible reason why these previously sane people suddenly went mad.

It all started when I declared that I would judge them in the name of the Captain of the Black Fangs. And now, this mess.

For beings with such immense power, their courage seemed to shrink in direct proportion to it.

Even pride should have its limits.

How could they throw themselves on the ground without even thinking about fighting back?

“Whatever punishment You deem fit, we will accept. Even if You command us to end our lives, we will gladly comply.”

The middle-aged man from earlier was now groveling before me.

“Please, deliver the rightful punishment to those who have defiled the name of God.”

A complete and utter declaration of surrender.

At this point, I was the one beginning to experience cognitive dissonance.

Something... something wasn’t right.

That much, I could clearly tell.

It was obvious.

No matter how powerful the Captain of the Black Fangs might be, and no matter how terrified they were of him,

Wasn’t this reaction just a little too extreme?

I could understand fear, but to mix that fear with what seemed like ecstasy—it made no sense.

It felt like I was missing something.

That thought kept echoing in my mind.

And then, in that moment, I saw it.

A light.

A radiant light emanating from my body.

My face naturally contorted in shock. I quickly checked myself to figure out what was happening.

‘What the hell is this?’

A curse rose to my lips.

I swallowed it back down, forcing myself to take a deep breath.

But there was no way deep breathing would calm me down.

Of course not.

I suddenly had wings sprouting from my back. What kind of lunatic would just say, “Oh, I see,” and accept that?

This was not the kind of situation that could be brushed off with a casual “Well, lucky me.”

But...

‘This is driving me crazy.’

To make matters worse,

I didn’t have the luxury of figuring out where these wings had come from.

The situation was obvious.

In front of these devout believers, if someone were to say, “I’ve been watching you all along” or “I’ve come to judge you,”

And then spread their wings while emitting a divine light,

It was clear what those people would think of the figure standing before them.

…In a way, you could say that my bluff had worked perfectly.

The problem was, it worked in the wrong way.

Now, they were all waiting for my answer.

Whatever they believed me to be—a messenger of the God of Light, an angel, a divine incarnation—they were convinced that the very being they worshipped had descended before them.

This bizarre situation had developed so suddenly.

I desperately wanted to take the time to adjust to this and come up with a plan.

But there was no time to delay any longer.

I had falsely invoked the name of God in front of these priests.

If they discovered this, their attitude towards me wouldn’t remain so favorable.

A bloodbath would be inevitable.

And it was uncertain whether I would even survive. Even if I did, I’d have to endure some serious damage.

In this moment, there was only one thing I could do.

I had come too far to turn back now.

If I wanted to walk out of here alive, I had to speak some convincing words, keep my identity hidden, and get out.

I had to impersonate a god.

…Suddenly, I found myself missing the days when I only had to pretend to be the Captain of the Black Fangs.

*****

Dominic knelt and waited.

For the words of God.

For the judgment that God would deliver.

But no matter how long he waited, the divine remained silent.

Dominic began to think.

Perhaps he was already dead.

Maybe the punishment had already been given, and when he opened his eyes, the sight before him would be that of hell.

Yet, that would have been the fitting end for a sinner who had defiled the name of God.

Bracing himself, Dominic opened his eyes.

But what he saw before him was neither heaven nor hell. Dominic was still alive.

His face filled with confusion, and instinctively, he lifted his gaze to look upon the Black Saint.

His eyes questioned why he had not been punished.

Perhaps sensing that question, the Saint finally spoke.

“Are you asking me to decide your fate?”

His voice.

Even the act of looking upon Him felt like a sin, and Dominic quickly bowed his head again.

“But that is impossible. For you still do not know the most important thing.”

Words that made no sense.

Though Dominic’s face was etched with confusion, the Saint continued to speak.

“Do you even know what sin you have committed against me?”

He asked them then.

What was the sin they had committed?

The sudden question caught Dominic off guard, but he couldn’t dare ignore a question from the divine.

So, Dominic confessed his wrongdoings.

That he had turned a blind eye to the corruption around him, believing it was something he could not change.

That his subordinates prioritized wealth over saving lives, and though he knew they were more interested in their own gains than in following the teachings of God, he had given up on trying to correct them.

The Saint listened to his words, then spoke once more.

“That is not the answer. You still do not understand the most blasphemous sin you have committed.”

As he said this, an even more radiant light poured forth.

The Saint spread his wings and commanded them.

“First, confront the sins you have committed. Only when you face them will you understand the punishment I will bestow upon you.”

Face the true sin they had committed.

With those words, the Saint turned His back to them.

What did He mean by those words?

What was the true sin they had committed, and what would be the punishment that followed?

No one had any answers.

But none of them dared to profane the moment by grabbing hold of the divine.

They could only watch in silence as the Saint’s figure disappeared into the distance.

None of them spoke. They simply watched Him leave, powerless to do anything else.

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