Reincarnated as a Cultist Mob - Chapter 1

 A Normal Person Among Cultists

A moonlit night devoid of any signs of living creatures. A group clad entirely in black, wearing hooded cloaks, marched through the forest with drawn crossbows at the ready.

"……"

As one of the members of this group, I moved forward while straining every nerve against the surrounding darkness.

We were a small squad of ten assembled to hunt down an enemy who had fled into the forest. All of us were trained believers of the "Arlos Temple Cult."

A few hours ago, an executive of the Arlos Temple Cult entrusted us with a mission: Bring back the head of the woman who fled into the forest.

Some intruder must have gotten too close to the cult. Well, it wasn't uncommon to receive missions to eliminate such nuisances. We low-ranking foot soldiers were routinely mobilized to keep secrets safe.

"!"

The man acting as a scout up front—if I recalled correctly, his name was Lloyd—signaled for us to stop. His hand sign indicated that he had spotted the enemy.

Squinting into the distance, I saw our target—a woman inside a dilapidated, crumbling house. The executive demanded her head.

Once everyone recognized the enemy's presence, Lloyd spun his index finger in a circle: Encircle her. After nodding to one another, we quietly began surrounding the house without making a sound or a breath.

The enemy was completely surrounded. Unaware of our approach, she seemed absorbed in treating a wound on her abdomen—likely sustained during her battle with the executive. However, we couldn't just stand by and watch her heal. Leaving her alone raised the risk of letting her escape.

Lloyd acted quickly, giving the signal to fire the crossbows. Simultaneously, all ten of us released our bolts. The arrowheads were coated with a potent poison; a single scratch meant death.

Furthermore, these bolts were shot from reinforced crossbows that normal humans couldn't possibly react to—ten bolts coming at her from every direction. She shouldn't have been able to dodge them.

(We definitely killed her... unless she's an original game character—)

Just as that thought crossed my mind, a dry thump-thump echoed through the air as the bolts pierced the surrounding trees.

"Wha—"

Someone gasped. The ten bolts had altered their trajectories, completely avoiding the woman.

—Protection Against Arrows.

The term flashed across my mind, and everything clicked.

(No doubt about it—that's a type of Wind Magic used by original game characters!)

Projectiles and arrows are useless against a wind mage. I drew my sword, recognizing her true identity. However, the other soldiers—who had assumed she was an ordinary person—froze in momentary shock at the impossible sight.

She wasn't one to miss such an opening. First, Lloyd's head flew off. One by one, soldiers were hunted down, their heads flying into the air clockwise. In the blink of an eye, four—no, five—lay dead.

(Dammit, dammit, dammit!! Why is a named character here right now?!!)

A silver-haired woman danced through a shower of blood spray. There was no mistaking her. She was the wind mage—Celestia Hothound, a Sister holding the 7th rank among the executives of the "Kenneth Orthodox Church," the enemy of our Arlos Temple Cult.

In the original game, she was considered a "weak character." But that was only relative to the monsters populating the main story. Against nameless mobs like us, no amount of effort could bridge the gap.

Holding a small knife in her right hand, she used wind magic to leap freely through the trees.

Having turned from hunters into the hunted, our unit collapsed instantly. Our coordination broke down completely, and all cultists except me were turned into chunks of flesh while screaming in terror.

(You've gotta be kidding... even with such a numerical advantage?!)

We soldiers were practically monsters compared to normal civilians. Having gone through military training, I was confident we wouldn't lose to ordinary people.

But our opponent wasn't ordinary—she was an unreasoning monster. Against their absurd power, we were helpless. The remaining cultists were taken down one after another.

We weren't even allowed to seize an opening and run. There was no escape. Fighting was the only option—even knowing death was inevitable.

"O-Ocree! What should we do against this—"

One of the few soldiers I knew turned back to me with tears in his eyes.

"We don't have time for chit-chat, do we?"

"Ah—"

Along with a soft, gentle female voice, an invisible shockwave sliced through the air.

The wind pressure momentarily stole my vision. Opening my eyelids shortly after, I saw the man cut clean in half at the waist.

"O... cree..."

The tearful man grabbed onto my leg, passing away with bloodshot eyes wide open. He died without even understanding what hit him.

It was likely an attack using wind magic. But even knowing that, there was no way to counter it.

(W-What am I supposed to do!! There's no way to win!! But... I definitely can't run...!!)

Am I losing because I'm a mob, or am I a mob because I can't win? Cornered as the last survivor, I held my sword with trembling hands.

"Ufufu, how unpleasant. Did your superiors truly believe ten low-ranking soldiers could take me down?"

Ah, it was the exact same voice from the game—a clear, beautiful voice. Clacking my teeth together, I let out a tearful chuckle.

Silver hair. Purple eyes. A habit covering her skin. She seemed like a fluffy, gentle woman on the surface, but in reality, she was a dangerous combat fanatic. In her individual route, she had sweet, romantic events... In the original game, she was a reliable and cute Sister—yet as an enemy, she was horrifying.

"Well then, farewell. May you be born as a devout Kenneth Orthodox believer in your next life."

Celestia pointed her palm toward me.

Ah, it's over. I couldn't even manage a futile struggle. Holding a flimsy sword, I couldn't even gather the resolve before my life ended. Just as the vision before me began to distort—an object flew in from far behind at ultra-high speed.

"!?"

Celestia gasped. Despite having the Protection Against Arrows active, she took evasive action against the incoming object. The spot where she had been standing blew apart upon direct impact.

Blown away by the blast near the point of impact, I crashed back-first into a tree trunk.

"Gah... cough!"

The sound of something hard shattering echoed from inside my body. Coughing up blood as I fell to the ground, I realized a new monster had arrived.

Ah... she came. The worst possible outcome. Executive No. 6 of the Arlos Temple Cult, Yoanne Sagamix—the cult's top lunatic had arrived.

The object that flew in was Yoanne's severed head. From there, using healing magic to regrow her entire body, she burst into cackling laughter in her birthday suit.

"Hey, you over there. Thanks for acting as a marker."

"Gah... cough! N-Not at all..."

I replied to Yoanne while spitting up bloody phlegm. The moment I got on her bad side, I would surely die. If I didn't reply, I'd die; if I ignored her, I'd die; if I ran, I'd die; and if I fought Celestia, I'd die anyway. What on earth was I supposed to do?

"...Yoanne Sagamix. A filthy cultist dog."

"Haaah... poor little maggots who can't understand the greatness of our Cult Leader."

"My, my, aren't we full of spirit?"

After a brief exchange, the battle between monsters began.

Blood splattered and chunks of flesh—unclear whose they were—danced through the air. Yoanne went so far as to intentionally detach her own head to regrow her body and launch surprise attacks on Celestia.

—In this world, if you can't use healing magic, you don't even stand a chance.

Having limbs torn off during battle was normal. In fact, failing to heal lost limbs was your own fault; dying from that level of injury just meant you were weak.

(What is wrong with these people...?!)

A bullet-like punch powered by Yoanne's immense physical strength blew away Celestia's right arm. Yet Celestia remained unfazed. Controlling her severed right arm with wind magic, she attempted a magic snipe from Yoanne's blind spot.

Taking the hit, Yoanne's body was sliced to shreds by a gust of wind from behind. However, she instantly resurrected and launched into hand-to-hand combat again. It was Yoanne's specialty: explosive healing magic. No matter how many times you killed her, there was no end to it. While I had no sympathy for Celestia, Yoanne's monstrous nature was off the charts.

"You're lacking energy, Celestiaaa?!"

However, if Yoanne was a monster, Celestia was one as well. No matter how much her body was blown apart, she counterattacked with precision using her extraordinary willpower.

Were the two of them really human? At this rate, I'd just end up as collateral damage. I had to do something.

(My weapons are... a poison-arrow crossbow and an iron sword...)

It's impossible. As someone without magic power, I had no business interfering.

However, given that the battle was at a stalemate, if I could demonstrate a two-on-one numerical advantage... Celestia might decide to retreat.

I raised the crossbow loaded with poison bolts and fired toward the two fighting at high speed.

"!"

"You..."

The bolt grazed the space between them. Both turned to look at me in surprise. When I shot another poison bolt, it was effortlessly deflected by Celestia's defensive barrier.

"I see... so you are not completely useless after all."

Whether my poison bolts were annoying or she deemed the battle unproductive, Celestia kicked up fallen leaves to create a smokescreen. When the whirlwind cleared, Celestia was nowhere to be found.

"Haaah... she ran off. And here I thought I could kill her this time."

Yoanne spat on the ground, still naked. After staring up at the sky for a moment, her green eyes glared in my direction.

"Hey, you. For a simple marker, you've got pretty solid nerves."

"T-Thank you very much..."

"Let me see your injuries. Ah—these are just light wounds."

When I showed her my body as instructed, she applied healing magic to me. Setting aside the difference in perception—since I was actually severely injured—something else surprised me even more.

(H-Hey... no way. Was she always this kind of character? I thought she treated disposable subordinates like trash...)

A mess of blue wolf-cut hair with highlights swayed in front of me. As long as she wasn't talking, Yoanne looked like an ordinary girl—which made sense, technically.

Regardless, I was uncomfortable with Yoanne staying completely unclothed, so I draped the black cloak I was wearing over her shoulders. At least now I wouldn't have to worry about where to look.

Draped in the robe, she widened her spiral-patterned eyes in surprise. Stopping her healing hand, she peered into my face and licked her lips with a snake-like tongue.

"...You're pretty attentive, huh? What's your name?"

For some reason, she asked for my name. I couldn't refuse to answer, but an overwhelming sense of dread washed over me.

"Ocree Mercury."

"Got it. I'll remember that name."

She actually remembered it... This is the worst...

Don't tell me... she took a liking to me or something?

"Hey, Ocree. Let's head back for now. Nothing left here."

"Y-Yes... May I ask one last thing?"

"Huh?"

"Well, I'd like to bury the ones who died."

"Do whatever you want."

Yoanne spat out the words and sat down on a nearby rock.

Under her supervision, I returned the remains of the nine disposable comrades to the earth. If things had gone slightly differently, I would have ended up just like them. The least I could do was give them a proper burial.

"You're a weird guy."

Hearing that from Yoanne—one of the biggest lunatics in the original game—I barely managed to swallow the urge to reply, I don't want to hear that from you.

And so, the clash between the Orthodox believer and the cultists came to a tentative end.

However, starting from this event, my fate would begin to change drastically.

TOC            Next