Apostle of the Goddess of War

Chapter 159

Ch.159 Apostle of the Goddess of War

Anarantis led the Ash Knights forward.  

An elite force composed solely of the Fire Knights’ finest.  

The southern territories, vast as they were, remained stable solely thanks to the Ash Knights’ prowess.  

No monster dared stir.  

Time and again, the Ash Knights had saved the Church of Fire and its followers from crisis.  

Once more, they galloped forth, bearing a sacred mission.  

Red capes fluttered in the humid wind.  

Anarantis spotted a scout riding toward her from a distance.  

The new Apostle of Fire raised a hand, halting her knights.  

“Rest briefly. Recon units—scout the perimeter.”  

Anarantis met the scout alone. The scout’s face was pale—as if he’d seen a ghost.  

“Report.”  

“The Red Mushroom Outpost is the same…!”  

“No casualties, only those driven mad?”  

“Yes…!”  

There was no other way to describe it—it was as though a specter had swept through the region.  

Another inexplicable incident in a growing series.  

“So this makes the seventh.”  

“Other outposts might be the same.”  

The scout wiped sweat, visibly anxious.  

He didn’t need to see other sites—they were clearly already overrun.  

By now, every single outpost had likely been swept clean.  

“To sever our communication lines so thoroughly before beginning… Clever.”  

Anarantis clicked her tongue.  

Their methods were proving more intricate than anticipated.  

“Still no estimate on enemy troop strength?”  

“My apologies. All outpost guards were eliminated—no intel could be gathered.”  

Anarantis rubbed her temples.  

Her fatigue was severe.  

“Considering their speed and the distance between outposts, it’s at least a full knight order. This can’t be a lone actor.”  

“Y-yes, I think the same.”  

“Has the Church of War brought an army…?”  

Anarantis gripped her scabbard tightly.  

This was the Church of War’s war.  

The phrase carried exceptional weight.  

Rumors had already spread through the waiting Ash Knights—  

that the Apostle of War, Sion had invaded with a mighty army.  

Whispers grew into accepted truth: the Goddess of War, intoxicated by Eru’s power, had launched a conquest with an overwhelming host.  

“There might still be outposts intact. Bring more troops and move out. Any clue will do—find it at all costs.”  

Arms crossed, Anarantis gave the order. The scout bowed sharply, then immediately wheeled his horse and galloped off.  

This was an intelligence race—every second counted. Whomever located the enemy first would gain the upper hand.  

Anarantis led the Ash Knights a little farther, reaching the mandatory checkpoint before entering the Church of Fire’s main temple.  

This was the only passage—the rest was encircled by treacherous mountain ranges.  

‘If they’ve brought an army, they must pass through here.’

Anarantis intended to repel the Church of War’s forces right at this first gate.  

She was confident in siege warfare—this very gate was where she’d first served after pledging herself to the Church of Fire, honing both faith and skill until she was acknowledged as an Apostle of Fire.  

“You’ve arrived, Apostle.”  

The gate captain greeted Anarantis with deep reverence.  

He’d already been informed this crisis warranted the personal intervention of an Apostle.  

Defenses were already tight.  

“Not even an ant could slip through,” Anarantis remarked.  

The gate captain traced the Flame Sigil of Agnia.  

“May Lady Agnia’s Sacred Flame burn these sinful souls to ash.”  

“May they be reduced to cinders.”  

Anarantis accepted the blessing.  

Her golden eyes, tinged red, flashed brightly for an instant.  

“Get down!”  

She grabbed the gate captain by the neck and slammed him to the floor.  

Whizz!

A stone pierced through the tent wall.  

Crash! 

The captain’s cherished teacup shattered pitifully.  

His eyes wavered.  

“This—what in blazes…! My precious porcelain collection!”  

“Your head nearly shattered instead of your teacup—this matters more?”  

Anarantis snapped, exasperated. The gate captain clamped his mouth shut.  

To guard this silent fortress, one had to endure monotony—his teacup hobby was how he coped.  

“Grr… I won’t forgive this! You invaders!”  

Teeth clenched, the gate captain gathered himself and rushed outside, shouting:  

“Ambush! It’s an ambush! All hands, b—”  

But he never finished.  

Thwack!

Another stone struck his temple.  

He collapsed on the spot—knocked out, but not killed.  

“What!”  

Anarantis was stunned by the absurdity of the assault.  

The Apostle of Fire drew her sword and oiled the blade—  

with the sacred oil from the Church of Fire’s crimson flowers.  

Whoosh!

Flames instantly engulfed the blade—the fire of Agnia herself, wielded by her Apostle.  

Anarantis slipped behind the tent, tracking the stone’s trajectory to catch the assailant.  

Whoosh!

Her movement was like a panther’s—silent and swift.  

The Apostle of Fire instantly pinpointed the culprit.  

Peering out from cover, Anarantis’s eyes widened.  

‘Three…?’

The scene before her was utterly absurd.  

“Hah! Hah!”  

The one hurling stones with ferocious accuracy was a beautiful young woman.  

Anarantis recognized her.  

‘The Apostle of Wisdom…?’

Even more shocking than her identity was the fact she was knocking out soldiers one by one with thrown stones.  

Her accuracy was beyond question.  

And her control—striking just hard enough to knock them unconscious without killing—was innate mastery.  

The Apostle of Wisdom threw stones while the other two gathered suitable rocks of the right size.  

“Hah! You shall meekly accept the Goddess of War’s lash…!”  

The Apostle of Wisdom shouted bizarre lines as she threw.  

Her stance was clumsy; her dialogue even more so.  

Yet her accuracy was terrifying.  

Anarantis was genuinely bewildered—how should she even respond?  

‘This is… their ambush?’

Heat rose to Anarantis’s temples.  

Realizing this was how the outposts had been struck all along left her speechless.  

This was outright mockery of the Church of Fire.  

Fuming, Anarantis nearly stormed out—  

‘No. I sense something ominous—especially from that girl… What is she?’

To Anarantis, each of them radiated asymmetric power.  

They were walking calamities.  

‘I must stop them here.’

If these three reached the main temple, catastrophe would follow.  

Now she finally understood why the Fire Priestess had always warned against the Church of War.  

Their power, held back for so long, had now surged beyond control.  

And this—while she’d only blinked—was the result.  

If full-scale war erupted now between the cults, the royal court, and the Evil God’s followers, the outcome was clear.  

Now she fully grasped why Evil God adherents hadn’t challenged them directly.  

‘Hm?’

Anarantis’s instincts screamed.  

Her hair stood on end.  

Without fully understanding why, she thrust her sword forward and leapt backward.  

Ka-BOOM!

“Spying on us? Impressive.”  

The Apostle of the Goddess of War launched a surprise attack.  

He had erased all traces of presence—yet was still detected.  

Had she not raised her blade instantly, she’d have been cleaved in two.  

A fearsome skill.  

“You dare ambush us!”  

Anarantis pushed back hard with her blade.  

Midair, they exchanged five rapid clashes.  

Clang! Clang!

Landing, Anarantis swung her flaming sword in a wide arc.  

The Apostle of War avoided landing—instead thrusting his sword into the ground, saving himself from a severed ankle. A brilliant response.  

Tat!

Anarantis quickly created distance and cast a spell.  

Multicolored flames erupted in the sky—an unexpected fireworks display against the black heavens.  

She sneered.  

“Now you’re rats in a sealed jar. I’ve summoned the Ash Knights.”  

“Hmm.”  

“No matter how strong you are, two girls can’t stand against my entire order.”  

Half bluster, half truth.  

They were unnaturally powerful—but still just girls.  

Even with the Apostle of Wisdom, the variables hadn’t changed.  

“The Ash Knights are formidable. Surrender.”  

“Huh.”  

“The Church of Fire’s First Gate is an impregnable fortress. In centuries of history, it’s never been conquered.”  

Anarantis kept warning—but the Apostle of War’s reaction grew only more languid.  

“Will you be all right?”  

The Apostle of War asked.  

Anarantis didn’t understand the intent behind the question.  

The Apostle of Fire frowned.  

“What are you talking about?”  

“The Ash Knights you sent that way.”  

“Are you seriously this complacent while I stand right before you?”  

“No—I genuinely worry.”  

Anarantis paused, then spoke—determined to shatter his calm.  

“Since you’re so worried, I’ll tell you this:  

You should be worrying about Elim first.”  

“Hmm? Why?”  

“The Apostle of Purity leads a demonic battalion to attack it.”  

The Apostle of War fell silent.  

‘Success.’

Anarantis smiled inwardly.  

“We’re not allied—but I obtained this intel. How about it? Retreat now. No need to spill unnecessary blood.”  

Yet contrary to her expectation, the Apostle of the Goddess of War grew even calmer—  

even smiling faintly.  

It made her suspect he’d gone mad with warlust.  

“Well then… that works out nicely. One bothersome task dealt with at once.”  

“What do you mean?”  

Anarantis still couldn’t comprehend him.  

The Apostle of War loosened his grip on his sword.  

“Shall we just finish our fight?”  

“…!”  

***  

The banner of Purity fluttered beneath dark skies.  

Rumors of its beautiful standard-bearer spread wherever she went.  

The Apostle of Purity, Ravienne, grew ever more famed for her breathtaking beauty.  

Even among the accompanying demonic legions, Ravienne’s beauty was regarded as an unsolvable enchantment.  

Some even abandoned magic studies to research Ravienne’s allure.  

“Fools.”  

Ravienne scoffed.  

By the blessing of the Goddess of Purity, all humans naturally felt affection toward Ravienne—  

so potent it could sway even the most devout followers of other goddesses.  

This very power was key to the Purity Cult’s vast influence.  

‘It’s convenient that I can effortlessly steal the entire Demon Alliance’s strength without effort…’

Ravienne swept back her silk-like hair and stared at Elim.  

First to catch the eye was Emily’s World Tree—now grown so vast it nearly touched the heavens.  

Beneath it lay Elim itself—flourishing daily.  

Supposedly a ruin, it had developed this much in just one year.  

Much of the credit, she’d heard, went to the Apostle of War.  

At the mere thought of him, Ravienne’s face soured.  

‘The Apostle of War… Sion.’

The only man whose heart her Purity power couldn’t touch.  

While even dedicated disciples of other goddesses remained at least neutral, Sion didn’t merely resist—he acted as though she weren’t even worth acknowledging.  

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