How Do People Become Demon Worshippers?

Becoming a demon worshipper can occur through various means, as evidenced by the long history stretching back to the Demon War.

As frequently mentioned, demon worshippers extend their reach into the shadows, engaging in illegal activities.

Because of this, nine out of ten individuals deeply involved in criminal enterprises are connected to demon worshippers. However, to be blunt, most of these individuals aren’t particularly dangerous.

They are merely pawns or common criminals. Their involvement is indirect, and even when traces are left behind, they are rarely linked to demon worshippers but rather assumed to be part of larger criminal organizations.

The truly dangerous ones are those who have been indoctrinated from a young age. Criminals act on greed or other motives, but indoctrinated individuals operate with purpose.

History has demonstrated the devastating effects of indoctrination. When an entire group is brainwashed, it can lead to catastrophic wars.

Demon worshippers have mastered the art of indoctrination, leveraging it to the extent that even those aware of it often fall prey.

In this world, unlike Earth, the exchange of information is severely limited. This lack of knowledge and environmental factors make people more susceptible to certain ideologies.

One might then wonder how, in a world with deities and powerful religious institutions, people still fall into demon worship.

Isn’t it strange that even with all the indoctrination, there have been no clear signs since the Demon War?

A deep dive into history provides the answer. After the Demon War, every civilization except for Alvenheim regressed to a near-reset state.

The emergence of the new race, the maju (demon-kin), brought about a series of incidents that left little room to focus on other matters.

Of course, demon worshippers didn’t escape unscathed. When Savior plunged into fanaticism and chaos, demon worshippers suffered significant losses.

It was a fluke—akin to a cow accidentally stepping on a rat—but it made the demon worshippers more cautious and strategic.

They began blending into ordinary life, acting normal until inquisitors like Kate’s Heretical Inquisition left, at which point they would reveal their true nature.

Only two individuals in the Luminous Church, the Pope and the Grand Inquisitor Kate, possess the power to declare a “Sanctuary.”

Before the outbreak of the Species War, humans were embroiled in internal conflicts, while the elves were plagued by internal strife.

The beastfolk hadn’t even established proper civilizations, and the maju were treated as no different from demons.

Even the dwarves, considered relatively stable, paid little attention to demon worshippers, too busy supplying weapons for human wars.

Finally, the Species War erupted, fulfilling every condition necessary for demon worshippers to thrive without interference.

This led to entire isolated villages falling into demon worship, the corruption of nobles and clergy, and even failed attempts to summon demons.

Although Zenon’s Biography exposed their existence, eradicating them completely will take a long time.

A Morning in a Quiet Village

“Mom.”
“Oh, did our little Laura wake up?”
“Yeah.”

In an ordinary village, a young girl with a cute demeanor greeted her mother upon waking.

Her plain brown hair and eyes might not have stood out, but they hinted at the future beauty of a girl in her early teens.

Her mother, who seemed to have passed down her looks, smiled warmly at her lovely daughter.

“Breakfast will be ready soon, sweetheart. Go wait at the table.”
“Okay!”

The obedient girl, Laura, skipped over to the dining table.

When she arrived, she saw a robustly built man sitting there, engrossed in reading the newspaper.

Presumably her father, his face was hidden behind the pages.

“Dad. Dad!”
“Hmm? Oh! Did my little girl just wake up?”

As soon as his daughter called out, the man lowered the newspaper and greeted her with a broad smile.

His chiseled features, rough beard, and short-cropped hair gave him a rugged appearance.

Though daughters are often said to resemble their fathers, Laura had thankfully inherited more from her mother.

Instead of taking her seat, Laura walked over to her father and stretched her arms wide.

“Hug me!”
“Of course, sweetheart.”

The man’s face lit up as he embraced his daughter, his joy palpable.

While nestled in her father’s arms, Laura caught sight of the newspaper he had set down, its pages still partially open.

She read the headline aloud.

“Zenon’s Declaration of War… A full-scale battle disguised as an event against demon worshippers?”
“…!”

Thud!

The man’s face turned pale, and in his shock, he threw the newspaper to the floor without bothering to fold it.

Laura looked at him with wide eyes, confused by his odd behavior.

“Dad.”
“Y-Yes?”
“What does ‘event’ mean?”

Curious about the unfamiliar word, Laura tilted her head and looked up at him with inquisitive brown eyes.

Swallowing nervously, the man carefully replied.

“...An ‘event’ can mean many things. It could be a festival or a celebration, but it could also describe something unexpected happening. Usually, it’s used for positive occurrences.”

At first glance, his explanation seemed perfectly ordinary.

“Oh, I see. So offering a ritual to the Father of All is also an event?”
“Of course. But remember, the word ‘event’ is broad and isn’t used very often.”

Had she not mentioned the “Father of All,” his reaction might have remained calm. Instead, his panic vanished, replaced by visible relief and even a hint of joy.

Laura nodded, satisfied with his answer. If her dad said so, it must be true.

“Breakfast is ready! Laura, take your seat.”
“Okay!”

At her mother’s call, Laura skipped back to her chair.

The family gathered at the table, with the parents sitting across from each other and Laura next to her mother.

On the table were simple but delicious-looking dishes, showcasing the mother’s culinary skill.

Laura eagerly reached for the food, but her mother gently stopped her.

“Laura, we need to pray before eating, remember?”
“Can’t we just eat?”
“No, sweetheart. We have to thank the Father of All for providing this food. We must show our gratitude.”
“Aww…”

Though Laura pouted briefly, she obediently clasped her small hands together in prayer.

Her mother smiled at the endearing sight before folding her own hands solemnly. Her husband followed suit.

In unison, they began their prayer in a reverent tone.

“We humbly thank the Father of All for today’s daily bread…”
“We humbly thank the Father of All for today’s daily bread…”
“We humbly thank the Father of All for today’s daily bread…”

 

The family recited their prayer at a steady pace—not too fast, not too slow.

From the outside, they might appear to be devout believers. However, their prayer was directed to the "Father of All," leaving little doubt as to who they truly were.

They were demon worshippers, a group that had inflicted immense suffering on the world since the Demon War.

The family prayed as if they were truly beseeching a god, their reverent tone and posture solemn beyond reproach.

"May we find truth in this world of lies."
"May we find truth in this world of lies."
"May we find truth in this world of lies."

The prayer concluded, and the three opened their eyes, releasing their clasped hands.

As they did, subtle changes overcame them. Their pupils lost focus, and an indescribable black aura began to ripple faintly around them.

Even young Laura was no exception. She felt a peculiar dizziness, as though she were sinking into a sticky, inescapable swamp. Staying still might bring a strange sense of comfort, but the unsettling sensation was too overwhelming to accept.

"Hah…"
"Phew…"

The excited breaths of her parents reached Laura's ears, snapping her back to full awareness. She blinked and quickly scanned her surroundings.

The black aura had disappeared, leaving only her ordinary parents behind.

"May this offering strengthen the Father of All."
"Indeed. Even our humble contributions matter. Laura, you’ll help too, won’t you?"
"Y-Yeah…"

Laura nodded reluctantly at her father’s question, but her brown eyes glimmered with an unplaceable fear.

Her father, seemingly satisfied with her hesitant agreement, nodded approvingly.

With the ritual complete, they began their meal, a scene of apparent family harmony.

Laura tried to shake off the earlier unease as she took a bite of her mother’s delicious cooking.

A Conversation of Secrets

"Dear, how are things these days?"
"It’s chaos. That man…"

Her father stopped mid-sentence and glanced at Laura, who was busy eating. Though she didn’t seem to notice, he decided against using foul language in front of her.

"…That person has really started targeting us. You’ve seen the news, haven’t you?"
"Of course. It’s frustrating to see someone so ignorant of the truth holding power over us."
"We should’ve dealt with this sooner. We underestimated the power of that book."

While her parents exchanged hushed, serious words, Laura quietly listened.

She couldn’t understand the specifics, but their grave tones hinted at something significant. Still, her years of keen observation told her this was not a conversation she could interrupt. Eating seemed like the safer option.

Warnings and Fear

"Laura."
"Hm?"

Her mother’s soft voice called to her mid-meal. Laura flinched slightly but looked up at her.

Her mother reached out, gently wiping sauce from the corner of her daughter’s mouth with her finger.

"Our Laura mustn’t read such wicked books. Always remember, the words of the Father of All are what truly matter. Understood?"
"Okay."
"Good girl."

Her mother stroked Laura’s hair affectionately, drawing a bright smile from the girl. It was the kind of innocent, loving smile only a child showered with affection could show.

Breakfast ended soon after, and as her mother began clearing the dishes, her father called to her.

"Laura."
"Yes, Dad?"
"Don’t forget about today’s lesson."

His casual tone as he glanced up from the newspaper belied the effect his words had on Laura.

The instant she heard "lesson," her face turned ghostly pale. Already fair, her complexion now bordered on sickly white, tinged with green.

Her hands began to sweat, and cold droplets formed on her forehead.

"L-Lesson?"
"That’s right. You’re scheduled for one today, aren’t you?"
"B-But… didn’t you say I wouldn’t have to if I memorized the prayer…?"

Swish.

Her father lowered the newspaper, revealing his piercing eyes. Laura gasped audibly.

The gentle, loving father from earlier was gone, replaced by a cold, unyielding figure—a disciplinarian.

Her trembling gaze fell to the floor as her father placed the newspaper on the table with a heavy hand.

"Laura."
"…"
"Are you defying the words of the Father of All?"
"N-No."
"Then why?"

Faced with her father’s relentless questions, Laura muttered a barely audible response.

"…I don’t want to."
"What?"
"It… it hurts…"

As she spoke, Laura clutched one arm gently, as though shielding a sore spot.

Her father noticed the gesture but dismissed it with a dry chuckle, speaking in a calm, almost kind tone.

"That’s what lessons are, my dear. They teach us to overcome pain and grow stronger. Facing hardship is necessary to uncover the truth."
"…"
"Everyone in the village receives lessons, not just you. We all exist for the Father of All. Your mother and I both endured the same lessons when we were your age."

His words made Laura lower her gaze further, gripping her throbbing arm. She glanced toward her mother, who nodded in agreement with her father.

Painful though it was, her parents insisted it was normal. The entire village believed so.

Defying the Father of All would only bring more suffering. She had learned that lesson once, painfully.

"…Alright."

Her voice was lifeless as she nodded.

"Good. I know our Laura will grow into a wonderful servant of the Father of All. Remember the revelation—we were told you were destined for greatness."
"…Yeah."
"Now head down to the basement. I’ll join you shortly."

An Unexpected Visitor

Before her father could finish, a loud pounding echoed through the house.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

All three turned toward the front door in surprise.

"Who could that be this early?"
"Maybe Jake’s here, hungover and looking for food?"
"That guy… Does he think this is some kind of tavern?"

Her father muttered in annoyance but rose to answer the door.

Laura watched him leave before silently heading to the basement.

The stairs descended into darkness, the dimness growing heavier with each step.

But Laura wasn’t fazed. She knew this path too well, so much so that she could navigate it with her eyes closed.

Rescue?

Unbeknownst to her, the voices upstairs weren’t her father’s.

"This whole village has fallen to demon worshippers?!"
"Looks like it. They’re even calling Zenon’s Biography wicked."
"Unbelievable. But what’s this place… Wait, what the hell?"

Laura turned at the unfamiliar voices. Her wide eyes met the gaze of strangers holding torches, their expressions a mix of shock and horror.

"Who… are you?"

The strangers whispered among themselves as they examined the room.

"Why is a kid here? And those scars…?"
"Look at this. Whips, skewers… This is torture equipment!"
"Dear god… Call a cleric, now. This is beyond horrible."

One of the men knelt before Laura, his tone gentle despite the fury in his eyes.

"Are you alright? Can you stand?"
"Who… are you?"

The man hesitated before offering a reassuring smile.

"Let’s get you out of here, okay?"
"But… Dad said I have a lesson…"

Her words froze him momentarily. His expression darkened as he glanced at the horrific tools lining the room.

"Your lesson… is this what they use?"
"Y-Yes…"

The man covered her trembling body with his cloak, his hand gently ruffling her hair.

"Think of it as skipping class, just this once."