Apostle of the Goddess of War

Chapter 2

Ch.2 Apostle of the Goddess of War

‘This is absurd…’  

Garfenn let out a hollow laugh.  

For someone who had never fought before or held a weapon, that skill was ridiculous.  

‘No, I’m not even sure if it can be called skill. That was… just instinct.’  

Even Garfenn, who had survived countless battlefields and fights, was astonished by the child’s martial talent. Just as the goddess had boasted.  

‘Goddess. Did you do something to this child? Bestow some kind of blessing?’  

[No. I merely observed. Where would I get the power to do such things now?]  

‘Hah. Unbelievable.’  

[Did I not tell you? A talent more brilliant than any child I’ve seen before.]  

‘More brilliant than me?’  

[Indeed.]  

‘That hurts.’  

[A goddess must only speak the truth.]  

But Garfenn wasn’t hurt at all.  

It was such overwhelming talent that he couldn’t even feel jealous.  

If anything, he was happier than the goddess right now.  

‘Finally, I can retire.’  

The slave trader, his ankles severed, rolled on the ground and screamed.  

“Hey, you bastards! Kill them! What are you doing? Attack!”  

Only then did the mercenaries remember they had been hired by the slave trader. They had to earn their pay.  

The boy turned his sword toward the approaching mercenaries.  

‘Oh? Planning to fight them too? Not just the slave trader?’  

As Garfenn marveled at the boy’s audacity, the mercenaries belatedly tried to draw their weapons.  

“Huh? W-why won’t this—”  

“What the—?”  

But for some reason, their swords wouldn’t unsheathe, and their spear tips became as heavy as lumps of iron, sinking into the ground.  

Their weapons refused to move as they wished. An invisible pressure weighed down on their entire bodies.  

“Leave now, and I’ll spare you.”  

Garfenn spoke with a fierce expression, unleashing what could be called a killing intent.  

“F-fuck!”  

“Run!”  

The mercenaries fled without looking back. They were terrified that staying any longer would cost them their heads.  

The caravan staff, who had been watching the slave trader’s reaction, chased after the mercenaries.  

Hack, ptui!  

Garfenn spat and glared at the merchant.  

“Seems you didn’t treat your subordinates well enough for them to stay loyal.”  

“Guh…! Spare me, please! I’m begging you! I’ll give you as much money as you want!”  

Garfenn scowled.  

“It was a sacred duel sworn before the goddess. How dare you break your oath? Are you telling me to commit blasphemy now?”  

“I-I never swore to the Goddess of Light!”  

Tch.  

Garfenn clicked his tongue and shook his head.  

“But I did. The goddess I serve witnessed this duel.”  

“W-what kind of nonsense is that? What goddess would allow such a thing?!”  

“The Goddess of War.”  

“Wha…?”  

The slave trader, drenched in sweat, slowly twisted his lips into a sneer.  

“Hah, hahaha! No wonder you’re nothing but a thief, serving a goddess like that. You worthless trash! The Goddess of Light sees everything! You’ll be punished!”  

“‘A goddess like that’…? Finished?”  

Garfenn gripped the sword slung over his shoulder. One more blasphemous word, and more than just limbs would be severed.  

But the slave trader, already deranged, had crossed the line.  

“I’m finished! Even if I die at the hands of a war-mongering fanatic, the Goddess of Light will recognize my grievance and save my soul! Hahahaha!”  

Swish!  

“Haha—”  

Before his laughter could end, the slave trader’s head separated from his neck.  

His head sprayed blood in the air before unceremoniously hitting the ground and rolling away.  

Garfenn gasped in surprise. It wasn’t him who had struck—it was the boy.  

“What did you just do?”  

“If he died by my hand, and I don’t believe in the goddess, does that mean he won’t be saved?”  

“What?”  

The boy scratched his cheek awkwardly.  

“He was a bad man who hit me and my siblings. I don’t regret it. I’ll gladly pay the price.”  

It was a witty answer, and his motives were impeccable—full marks.  

“Impudent brat.”  

Garfenn chuckled so hard his shoulders shook.  

The goddess was laughing heartily too, though the boy couldn’t hear her.  

“Hah, haha! Anyone who enslaves children deserves death. You’ve done no wrong.”  

After laughing for a while, Garfenn tossed the boy the keys.  

“Free your friends.”  

The freed children clung to each other in relief. But they still eyed Garfenn warily, their gazes filled with fear.  

A natural reaction, given Garfenn’s monstrous appearance.  

“Are they your siblings?”  

“We met after being captured.”  

“Not by blood, then.”  

The boy quietly answered while holding his siblings. Though not related by blood, he had protected them out of responsibility. Their bond was extraordinary.  

“Why protect them?”  

“…Just because?”  

“Hm?”  

“I’m the oldest.”  

A simple answer, but it carried an indescribable resolve. For his young age, his depth of thought was remarkable.  

Garfenn was convinced once more.  

Courageous, virtuous, and strong.  

He was more than qualified to be the Goddess of War’s apostle.  

“Aren’t you afraid?”  

The boy answered as calmly as if discussing someone else.  

“Of course I was. I was scared earlier too.”  

“Hoho…”  

Despite his composed words, his demeanor in battle had been entirely different—like a ruthless killer.  

But Garfenn didn’t mind.  

As long as he fought well and remained virtuous, that was enough.  

He had chosen well.  

“Do you have a home to return to? Karak Village?”  

“No. There’s nothing left there.”  

Garfenn nodded sympathetically. Karak had been engulfed in a great war years ago.  

The boy must have been orphaned then.  

“So what do you want to do?”  

“…Didn’t you buy me?”  

“That’s true. So will you follow me?”  

The conditions were met, but the most crucial factor—willingness—remained.  

“Of course. You saved my life. I was taught to repay debts.”  

“Really?”  

“Yes.”  

“Even without knowing who I am?”  

Garfenn struggled to suppress a smirk. The goddess was already smiling warmly.  

“I’ll find out in time.”  

Again, the boy answered nonchalantly.  

‘He’s not normal. It’s hard to imagine what this child has experienced, what suffering he’s endured.’  

Though the boy seemed to react simply and without much thought, his mind was profoundly deep. Every word he spoke was impressive.  

“What about your siblings?”  

“…I can’t leave them behind.”  

“So you won’t come with me?”  

The boy shook his head.  

“I’ll repay my debt. But can I help them settle somewhere first and repay you later?”  

Garfenn knew this wasn’t a lie to deceive him. The boy would return.  

But Garfenn shook his head coldly. Neither he nor the goddess had much time.  

“…”  

The boy hesitated. He didn’t want to abandon either. His head grew hot.  

At that moment, the goddess intervened.  

[Garfenn, my child.]  

‘Yes, Goddess.’  

[Take them all.]  

‘All of them?’  

[Indeed.]  

Garfenn was puzzled.  

‘Do you mean to take them all as disciples?’  

[No, Garfenn. Now that we’ve found a successor, we must rebuild the order. Those children will be of great use.]  

‘You’ve had this planned for a long time, Goddess.’  

[This has been my design for ages.]  

Garfenn could almost hear the goddess’s pride in her voice.  

Since she insisted so strongly, he decided to endure the hassle for now and crossed his arms.  

“Fine. I’ll take all of you.”  

“Really?”  

The boy looked up.  

“Yes, but your siblings will serve in the order.”  

“The order?”  

“Yes. As priests or nuns. Consider it repaying the debt. You won’t refuse this, will you?”  

“Of course not!”  

The boy jumped in protest, like a child afraid his food would be taken.  

“The church is safe, right? They’ll be fed, sheltered, and…”  

“But it won’t be comfortable or idle. They’ll work tirelessly, pray, and serve. Can your siblings endure that?”  

Instead of answering, the boy looked at his siblings. They cautiously nodded. Anything was better than this.  

Confirming their resolve, the boy knelt before Garfenn.  

“Thank you, sir. I’ll repay this debt until the day I die. Order me to do anything.”  

“You won’t regret it?”  

“No.”  

“Even if it’s hard enough to kill you?”  

“It’s hard enough to kill me, but it won’t kill me, right?”  

“It might.”  

Finally, the boy hesitated—but only briefly.  

“I already considered myself dead once.”  

Garfenn chuckled.  

“Not a trace of childishness left. I like that.”  

He ruffled the boy’s hair with his thick hand.  

Then he asked one last question.  

“What do you think of war?”  

The boy thought for a moment before answering.  

“…I hate it.”  

“What if you could end war?”  

“Is there a way?”  

“Yes.”  

“Then I want to know it.”  

“You want to end war?”  

“Yes. No one gets hurt that way.”  

At last, Garfenn smiled.  

He was certain.  

This boy.  

He was the next Apostle of the Goddess of War.  

“I know you lied earlier. What’s your real name?”  

“…Sion.”  

“Sion of Karak. You are now my disciple.”  

“Disciple…?”  

Garfenn made an uncharacteristically holy gesture as he added,  

“My name is Garfenn. Apostle of Achille, the Goddess of War.”  

“What? Then—”  

At that moment.  

The playful tone in Garfenn’s voice vanished.  

The air grew heavy as iron, and his gaze turned murderous.  

“Sion.”  

“…”  

It was solemn.  

Suffocating.  

“Will you follow me down the path of the sword, serve Achille the Goddess of War, and become her blade?”  

Sion stared intently at Garfenn.  

Despite the overwhelming pressure, he showed no sign of intimidation.  

If anything, his gaze was eerily serene—like that of a saint who had transcended death itself.  

Cautiously, Sion spoke.  

“Before I answer… can I ask one question?”  

“Ask.”  

“I lost my family to war. My village. These siblings too. War took everything.”  

Garfenn listened silently as Sion continued.  

“I hate war more than anything. Even so… is it okay? Can someone like me follow the Goddess of War?”  

A brazen confession.  

His expression showed resolve.  

It was blasphemous to say such things before the Apostle of the Goddess of War.  

And yet.  

“It’s fine.”  

The Apostle of the Goddess of War smiled.  

A look of utter satisfaction.  

“No need for pretentious saintliness. If you were like that, I’d have killed you already. Just cut. Become her blade and cut. Pour out your hatred.”  

“Will that really be enough?”  

“Yes. If you do, you’ll find the answer you seek.”  

The answer I seek?  

Sion tilted his head.  

“The meaning of war. Its value. Its end. Whatever it is.”  

Garfenn spoke as if he already knew.  

“How…?”  

Indeed, Sion had wondered.  

What is war, that it took everything from me?  

Why did my family and village have to die?  

Is war just?  

Does it ever end?  

“I was like you once, struggled with the same questions, cursed war and its vile weapons.”  

“Did you find an answer?”  

“I did.”  

Garfenn answered without hesitation.  

“Then…”  

At last, Sion bowed his head.  

“I’ll wield the sword until I find my answer too.”  

“What is it you seek?”  

“…The end of war.”  

Goosebumps ran down Garfenn’s spine. The goddess felt the same.  

“I don’t like complicated things. I just… want war to end. Can I achieve that?”  

Sion’s wish.  

It was what the Goddess of War desired most of all.  

‘Find the strongest sword and end all war and suffering in the world.’  

At last, the moment had come for her to obtain the blade she had longed for.  

Garfenn placed his hand on Sion’s head.  

The goddess’s hand overlapped his.  

[Seek, and you shall find. The goddess watches over you.]  

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