I m a Pastor, what the hell is an Acute Gastroenteritis Outbreak Spell?!

I woke up in a parallel world as a priest—but not just any priest. I was hailed as a miraculous healer, especially for women in need. Sounded great at first, until I opened my spellbook.

What kind of priest has spells like “Instant Tummy Trouble” or “Fragile Bones Forever”? Was I supposed to heal or curse people into oblivion? Then came “Boiling Veins,” “Creeping Chill,” and the downright terrifying “Mind Mayhem.” Instead of divine blessings, I wielded a catalog of suffering.

Meanwhile, warriors unleashed “Cyclone Strikes,” mages summoned “Endless Blizzards,” and even archers had flashy moves like “Meteor Shower Arrows.” And me? My ultimate abilities included “Rapid Cancer Spread,” “Zombie Virus Unleashed,” and “Rabid Frenzy.” Holy? More like horrifying.

My spells quickly gained notoriety. A girl once shrieked, “Why do I have a rash? I just took a bath!” A dying villain groaned, “I exploded… How?!?” Even a so-called invincible boss met his end, whispering, “My kidneys… where did they go?”

Healers were meant to bring salvation—but with every spell I cast, chaos followed. Was I truly meant to aid others through agony? In this twisted world, even my prayers felt like a curse.