In A Fantasy World I Can Absorbs Abilities

Antonio lay face-down, sobbing uncontrollably.

His fingertips clutched the damp wooden deck.

As the ship tilted slightly, the cold moisture seeped up through the planks soaked with seawater.

The salty stench stung his nose, and a dull thud echoed in the distance as waves struck the hull.

Above the dark sea, the rising moon quietly embraced their conversation.

Through trembling breaths, Antonio spoke:

"What… what is so wrong about humans relying on gods?"

His voice was soaked in despair.

Tears continued to stream down his face, falling—whether onto the deck, the sea, or into a deeper darkness, he no longer knew.

Alfred quietly stepped forward.

Standing beside the man who now trembled like a lantern swaying in the wind, he gently placed a hand on Antonio's shoulder.

"You're right. You did nothing wrong."

Alfred's voice was low and gentle, yet steeped in deep compassion and sorrow.

He looked out beyond the railing of the wavering ship, to the endless stretch of sea.

Humans had always longed for something to lean on.

It was no different from seeking a guiding star in the middle of a dark, endless ocean—to avoid losing their way.

There was no sin in that.

Alfred turned his gaze back to Antonio, still collapsed on the deck.

"That's why I disappeared."

His words drifted across the silent sea, and Antonio wept even harder.

And then… Radiance filled the void Alfred had left behind.

Alfred's expression darkened, and his hand pressed more firmly on Antonio's shoulder.

Radiance had been deliberate.

He had used human weakness to establish a false order, disguised as faith.

He hadn't created a god for the sake of humanity—he had shaped a world where humans existed solely for their god.

Radiance's followers shed their blood, and their temples were built upon the very pools of human life.

The ship tilted more violently.

Antonio stumbled, catching himself on the deck with his hand.

Alfred tightened his grip on Antonio's shoulder.

"The fault… lies with him."

Antonio's sobs slowed, and he slowly raised his head.

Alfred's eyes pierced through him—deep, resolute, and unwavering.

That gaze shone like a solitary star above the sea, staring straight into his soul.

Alfred reflected quietly.

He could understand Radiance attacking him, Arabella, and the children, in order to monopolize the remaining divine essence.

That had been inevitable from the moment a human became a god.

Divine essence was limited—so betrayal, conflict, and elimination among gods had become a natural occurrence.

But the attempt to take their lives—and that the reason was nothing more than pride—that, he could not understand.

What meaning could there be in a world obtained through such means?

Radiance had no choice but to keep fighting, endlessly.

To maintain his throne, he had to denounce all other gods as heretics, and in doing so, had become lost in that battle.

Above all, he had made too many enemies.

"Your new god has committed unforgivable sins."

Alfred's mind summoned a litany of Radiance's wrongdoings, gathered over countless years.

What he now recalled were the things he had witnessed and experienced firsthand.

Radiance was a blasphemer cloaked in holiness.

Under the name of "the collusion of heretical gods," Radiance and his followers cast mages and knights who defied his will into flames.

It happened in village squares, in the hearts of cities, even on battlefields.

More people were burned alive by Radiance's priests than had ever died in war.

– "By their blood, the world is purified."

The priests chanted their prayers amidst the screams of those burning alive.

Radiance didn't see those who believed in other gods as mere sinners—he saw them as traitors.

For nothing more than differing faith, they were subjected to brutal executions.

Their tongues were cut to silence them, fingers broken one by one to force them to renounce their beliefs.

Countless people were locked in underground prisons, lost in endless cycles of torture and despair.

But Radiance's most heinous crime… was greed, masked in the name of godhood.

As opposition against him grew, Radiance and his priests unleashed plagues—swarms of locusts and other disasters.

They were artificial calamities, disguised as natural events.

Afterward, priests dressed in resplendent golden robes traveled across the continent, declaring:

– "This is divine punishment brought by heretical gods."

Terrified believers kissed the relics of Radiance with trembling hands, praying for salvation.

And in return, they were forced to offer up their last remaining grain.

Everything Alfred had learned—every atrocity committed in Radiance's name—now surged into Antonio's mind.

Antonio was crushed by despair.

Even breathing became a struggle.

The world spun wildly around him.

Alfred's memories—those dark chronicles—poured into his mind like a flood.

Screams echoed in his ears.

The stench of burning flesh invaded his nostrils.

The desperate cries of a mage bound to a stone altar.

The voice of an old man pleading to the gods for forgiveness.

The final scream of a woman holding her child close—these sounds clung to Antonio's ears.

This…

This was what his god had done.

Antonio wanted to deny it.

He told himself it couldn't be true—that these were fabricated memories, distorted history.

But the visions were too vivid.

Too clear, too real—they surged through his mind with undeniable force.

The atrocities committed in Radiance's name.

The massacres ordered by priests.

The true form of the church he had once protected now loomed before him like a massive beast, jaws open wide, ready to devour him whole.

"…No… this can't be…"

With trembling hands, Antonio clutched his head.

He inhaled deeply, but his lungs felt like they were burning—tight and suffocating.

Where had the sanctity he sought gone?

What were the church he served and the pontiffs he had so faithfully followed, if not what he had believed?

Darkness overtook his vision.

Antonio sank to his knees.

If this was the truth… then what had he lived for?

Alfred watched him with a heavy heart.

The sight of Antonio crumbling before him was more devastating than he had anticipated.

Clutching his head with shaking hands, staring vacantly at the floor—this was the raw form of despair, the most honest shape of a man whose lifelong faith had been utterly shattered.

Alfred stood silently, observing.

He had been a god—Antonio's god.

Now, that same man who had once prayed to him drifted aimlessly, having lost everything.

And it pained him.

Not only because he was witnessing the collapse of a man.

Antonio had lived for his beliefs. He had fought for them.

That faith had been his reason to live.

Now that it had all crumbled… what reason was left?

To learn that the faith he had clung to, the belief he had cherished, was nothing but a source of blood and lies—what could a man hold on to after that?

Alfred closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again.

He could have scoffed at Antonio. He could have walked away coldly. But he didn't.

A god does not so easily abandon the human who once followed him.

With a gravity in his gaze, Alfred looked at the man before him.

Then, slowly and quietly, he extended a hand.

"Antonio."

His voice was soft but resolute.

"Do not stay trapped in despair."

Antonio, lost in thought, lifted his head.

Alfred met his eyes as he continued.

"There are still people you must protect. Think of those left in the Holy Kingdom."

Antonio looked up with bleary eyes.

His hands still trembled, and his chest was tight with a hollow grief that words could not express.

But Alfred's voice pulled him back to reality.

"You and those who follow you must return to the Holy Kingdom at once. The place must be in chaos. Calm the minds of the faithful. Ensure that no further disorder takes root."

Alfred's words were not empty comfort, nor simply encouragement.

They were a clear command.

But more than a god's command, they were an act of mercy.

A final gesture from the former god Antonio had once worshipped—one last effort to lift a man from despair.

Antonio clutched at his chest with trembling fingers.

"But… under Radiance's name, the Holy Kingdom has shed too much blood. Too many are already stained by guilt… How can they be saved?"

His voice was weak, still laced with the emptiness of a man who had lost his faith.

Alfred gazed at him in silence.

"So you would abandon those who remain?"

Antonio flinched at the question.

"The Holy Kingdom is not Radiance himself."

Alfred stepped forward and stood before Antonio.

"There are still those who live in genuine faith. People like you, who once believed. They were deceived by Radiance's lies, but they were never evil to begin with."

Antonio looked at him, eyes trembling.

"Then… what should I do?"

Alfred's expression hardened with determination.

"Reveal the truth about Radiance. Show them how he defiled this land, what atrocities were committed in the name of god. Help them see that this is no longer the right path. Teach them to think and choose for themselves—not to be ruled by gods."

Antonio clenched his fists atop his knees.

"But… will anyone accept that?"

"They must."

Alfred answered without hesitation.

"You learned the truth before them. That makes you the one best suited to tell it. You must stand at the front and speak it aloud."

Antonio bit down on his lip.

He already knew.

He knew Alfred was right.

Radiance's mask had to be torn away.

Those who had corrupted the Holy Kingdom had to be judged.

Their falsehoods had to be exposed, and the people allowed to begin again.

This was a new starting point.

Not an era ruled by divine will, but one where humans lived by their own free will.

Not false judgment, but true justice.

"…I understand what I must do."

With effort, Antonio rose to his feet.

His knees still shook. His chest still ached.

But deep within, something had begun to burn again.

"I will restore the Holy Kingdom. I'll expose Radiance's lies, and help those who remain find a life of truth."

A flicker of relief passed through Alfred's eyes.

"Then go. And save humanity."

Antonio bowed his head deeply.

He would no longer fight for a god.

From now on, he would fight for humans.

After concluding his conversation with the former follower, Alfred turned to Michael, who had been quietly waiting.

"Thank you for waiting. I needed to deal with the seed I once sowed."

Michael shrugged casually.

"Don't mention it. But it seems like Radiance has walked into the trap. Shouldn't we go now?"

Alfred grinned—a smile full of hard-earned satisfaction.

"Yes. The rat's in the trap. Time to catch it."