Chapter 1 …

Ridney Knows Everything

[(Guide) A Twisted Truth Cultist Guide Written Because I Was Frustrated After Spending 20,000 Hours Playing Nothing but Cultists]

Author: Ridney’s Foot-Washer

The Seer of the Twisted Truth.

The Evil God of Wicked Knowledge and Abominable Sorcery.

The Cunning Magician who gouged out His own eyes as a sacrifice, devoured the World Tree, and attained infinite wisdom.

Ridney knows everything.

Since the rest of you seem to know absolutely nothing, I decided to write this guide for aspiring Cultists of the Twisted Truth.

If you disagree, you’re wrong. So empty your head and just follow along.

1. Why Should You Worship Lord Ridney?

Cultists of the Twisted Truth begin with the trait “Eyes That See the Truth.” It’s practically a cheat ability and makes surviving the early game dramatically easier.

On top of that, the class has eighteen different skill trees, giving it unmatched versatility among all cultist classes.

2. Race

Humans and goblins aren’t bad choices, but personally I highly recommend playing a Half-Elf Cultist.

When an elf worships an evil god, the enraged God of Nature places a terrible curse upon them.

What’s that? You’re asking what kind of nonsense that is?

Like I said before, the moment you feel like arguing, it simply means I’m right and you’re wrong.

I’ll explain why Half-Elves are the best choice later in the sections on Mysticism and Builds, so stop questioning it and keep reading.

3. Traits

Don’t overthink it.

Just take “Fanatic” and “Rusted Mind.”

The reason is…

I paused my typing and leaned back in thought.

This was difficult.

How could I fit in every useful piece of information without making the guide boring?

‘Combining the traits Fanatic and Rusted Mind lets you worship multiple evil gods without limits?’

No, that was far too vague.

To make people understand properly, I’d have to explain it in detail.

But then the guide would become way too long.

Nowadays, if there’s no three-line summary, half the readers immediately hit the Back button.

It needed to be as concise as possible.

“This is giving me a headache…”

Why had I become obsessed with a class that was both difficult and painfully weak?

The most unfair part was that the game received balance patches every few months, yet despite Cultists already being the worst class in the game, they somehow got nerfed every single time.

Apparently it was “necessary for the lore.”

[What a shame! Once again this month, the Evil Gods have been abandoned by the people! With no believers, they couldn’t grow any stronger! Our deepest condolences to all Cultists!]

That ridiculous line appeared in practically every patch note, complete with the developers’ signature North American brand of forced humor.

Sure, Cultists were supposed to be weak according to the setting…

But how could they never receive even a single buff?

Grumbling nonstop, I continued typing.

“It’s already dawn.”

I’d gotten so absorbed in writing that I’d pulled an all-nighter.

Stretching my aching fingers after hours of nonstop typing, I finally stood up.

Sleep was beginning to overtake me.

Maybe another dose of caffeine would help.

“Huh?”

I grabbed one of the buy-one-get-one coffees I’d bought yesterday from the refrigerator and popped open the lid.

Then I frowned.

There was text on my monitor that I definitely hadn’t written.

[O seeker who walks the path toward the Twisted Truth.]

The sentence appeared in a bizarre font that looked as though it had been hastily scrawled by hand.

Before I could process what was happening, more words began appearing across the screen—

Even though my hands weren’t touching the keyboard.

[The Wise One has been deeply moved by your unwavering devotion.]

The instant I read those words…

My vision suddenly blurred.

[Ridney watches over you. Learn new knowledge, endlessly pursue the truth, and spread throughout the world the glory of the One who gazes upon the Twisted Truth!]

My eyelids rapidly grew heavy.

My sight turned hazy.

“…What’s happening?”

Unable to resist the overwhelming drowsiness, I staggered where I stood before collapsing onto the floor.

As consciousness slowly faded away, I caught sight of the final sentence appearing on the screen.

Unlike the previous messages, this one was written in a clean, elegant typeface.

[May your journey bear fruit safely…]

“Why do you worship an evil god?”

At the sudden question from a filthy-looking young boy, I couldn’t answer right away.

It wasn’t because I couldn’t think of a response.

Given enough time, I could easily spend half a day explaining why anyone should worship a temperamental, unreasonable evil god instead of one of those kind-hearted benevolent deities.

The thing stopping me from opening my mouth was the strange black text floating in the air before my eyes.

《Abel, a poor pickpocket from the slums (Tiger Beastkin, age 12). A cheeky brat who barely survives alongside his older sister, Marlin. His attitude toward you is exceedingly disrespectful. Eliminating him seems advisable.》

“…”

A brief profile…

Along with a recommendation to commit murder.

It was an utterly surreal sight.

Yet strangely enough, accepting it wasn’t nearly as difficult as accepting the far more unbelievable reality that I’d lost consciousness and awakened in an entirely different world.

I slowly turned my head and looked around.

Every time another person, object, or landscape entered my vision, more of the same strange writing appeared.

《A forest with a suspicious atmosphere. Its unnaturally thick branches and dense canopy completely block out the sky, creating an ominously dark environment.》

When I looked at the forest surrounding us…

《Vance, a swordsman belonging to the Cheonhwa Mercenary Company (Human, age 39). A hopeless drunk who downs beer the moment he wakes up every morning. What an idiot!》

When my eyes landed on a heavily intoxicated mercenary…

《Marlin, a burglar from the slums (Tiger Beastkin, age 14). Abel’s older sister. Despite her young age, she already possesses remarkable thieving talent. A future master thief.》

And when a wide-eyed girl hurried over and pulled her younger brother behind her protectively…

Information I had absolutely no desire to know kept appearing.

Most of it was useless.

Still, it was helping me understand the situation little by little.

“Stop ignoring me and answer! Why would you worship some evil god? That’s so stupid.”

“Abel, stop.”

The girl covered her brother’s mouth and cautiously backed away.

Apparently my silence and wandering gaze—caused by trying to process this impossible situation—had been interpreted as something entirely different.

She tried to look brave.

But her trembling hands betrayed her fear.

“Calm yourself, human.”

At that moment, a red-skinned orc resting a spear across his shoulder stepped between us, blocking my view.

“I understand that insulting the god he worships has angered you. But endure it for now. You can vent your rage after everything is over. We may only be a temporary expedition brought together by money, but we’re still companions.”

A minor conflict with a tiger beastkin boy who despised Cultists.

An orc stepping in to mediate.

The scene was painfully familiar.

There was no way I could mistake it.

I’d experienced this exact sequence thousands upon thousands of times.

“…The Cultist tutorial.”

Every piece of evidence pointed toward one absurd conclusion.

Nightmare Dungeon.

The game whose uniquely addictive gameplay had consumed every free hour of my life after I quit my job.

This…

…was the world inside the game where I’d traded twenty thousand hours of my life for dopamine.

…Could it really be?

It was the most logical explanation.

And yet it still sounded ridiculous.

Honestly, it seemed more believable that I’d stayed awake for days surviving on coffee while playing the game until I finally started dreaming about it.

But if my guess was actually correct…

Standing here doing nothing would get me killed.

The reason was written in enormous letters hanging high in the air.

《E-Rank Dungeon – Hideout of the Stalker Ghoul Pack》

《The ghouls inhabiting this filthy den possess an exceptionally keen sense of smell for the living. They are especially frenzied by the scent of blood, so exercise caution.》

We had to run.

The moment that thought crossed my mind—

A nauseating stench drifted toward us from somewhere deeper in the forest.

Rapidly.

They were here.

The nightmare of every beginner Cultist.

The perfect cure for low blood pressure.

The infamous wall that reduced countless low-level players to tears.

Despite earning endless praise from veteran players, these monsters never forgot their humble mission:

Brutally slaughtering anyone who had just started the tutorial.

“Intruders…”

A ghoul.

An undead creature armed with razor-sharp claws, jagged fangs, and a face horrifying enough to make anyone recoil.

《Stalker Ghoul (Level 3)》

《You currently stand absolutely no chance against this ghoul. I recommend abandoning the others as bait and escaping alone.》

There were only two of them.

Yet during the tutorial, they were practically invincible.

The orc frowned.

The beastkin siblings nervously scanned their surroundings.

The mercenary was still busy drinking.

“So they’ve arrived already. That’s sooner than the Harmony Church scholar said.”

Gripping his spear with both hands, the orc boldly stepped forward.

“But don’t worry.”

“I, the great warrior Tunrak, shall protect every one of you!”

Not a trace of fear could be seen in his confident stride.

His broad shoulders and muscular back inspired confidence.

Even the siblings looked slightly reassured.

…Ignorance truly was bliss.

I immediately turned around and began looking for the right direction.

There wasn’t a second to waste.

“For eternal battle!”

The orc roared and charged forward, thrusting his spear.

Even to someone like me, who knew nothing about spear techniques, his stance looked embarrassingly amateurish.

The ghoul simply tilted its head slightly.

The spear missed.

Then it lashed out.

Crunch!

“Ghk… Ugh…”

Its razor-sharp claws pierced straight through the orc’s chest—

And burst out through his back.

A mortal wound.

Without healing magic, survival was impossible.

The self-proclaimed great warrior trembled for only a moment before going limp.

‘Just like always.’

《Tunrak, Novice Warrior (Red Orc, age 24). He looks like an experienced veteran, but in reality he has never fought a real battle. A fool who trusted nothing but his muscles and got himself killed.》

It was tragic.

But there was nothing anyone could do.

He couldn’t be saved.

I’d tried countless methods over countless playthroughs, almost like some time-loop protagonist desperately searching for a different outcome.

Nothing worked.

It was practically a scripted event.

Instead of wasting time on something impossible, I needed to use the unfortunate orc’s sacrifice to survive.

“W-What the hell are those things?!”

The drunken mercenary was the ghoul’s next target.

He was more experienced than Tunrak and would buy us a little time.

Sure, he was fairly strong…

But bringing him along always resulted in disaster.

One of those trap characters the sadistic developers had deliberately planted.

Leaving him behind was always the better choice.

“What are you standing there for?”

After confirming the correct direction, I ran straight past the frozen tiger beastkin siblings.

“Hurry up and run.”

Unlike the helpless extras in horror movies who froze during dangerous situations and died pointlessly…

These two reacted quickly.

After only a brief hesitation, they sprinted after me.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

The sound of hurried footsteps pounded across the dry forest floor.

“…Mr. Cultist!”

Marlin, blessed with the superior physical abilities of beastkin, quickly caught up beside me.

She asked anxiously,

“Where are we going? Can we survive if we run?”

I’d heard that exact question countless times in the game.

I recalled the dialogue choices that normally appeared.

[1. Shut your mouth.]

[2. Keep making noise and I’ll tear your mouth apart.]

[3. Ignore her.]

…I had no desire to become the kind of pathetic adult who spoke to children like that.

Choosing the gentlest words I could, I answered,

“I’ll save you.”

“Just follow me, Marlin.”

“…!”

Marlin’s eyes widened.

“How… do you know my name?”

“What a strange question.”

Breathing heavily as I ran, I allowed myself a small smile.

“Because Ridney knows everything.”