Apostle of the Goddess of War

Chapter 22

Ch.22 Apostle of the Goddess of War

Two boys, cutting through the sea breeze as they crossed the fields, gradually encountered a changing landscape.  

Half a day had passed since they left Foils.  

The pungent smell of sea fish had faded, and the previously flat road was becoming increasingly bumpy and uneven.  

Gentle hills stretched out one after another, overlapping like giant waves, eventually forming a single mountain.  

“That’s it. We’ll arrive in about half a day.”  

Tier raised his hand and pointed toward the mountain range. The distant peak rose majestically, as if piercing the sky.  

This mountain was the highest among the great mountain ranges separating the Kingdom of Phelennor and its neighboring kingdom.  

Overlooking border regions such as Elim and Foils, it had long served as a natural barrier and boundary.  

To the west of the mountain lay the port city of Foils, embracing the sea; to the south lay Elim, a sparsely populated village.  

Elim was a small village deeply embedded like a thorn in the path toward the southern mage kingdom.  

It had been so long since its glorious past that no one in the present age would believe claims of Elim’s former strength.  

It was merely a story preserved only in ancient texts.  

……Sion, the man destined to lead Elim’s revival, stared at the peak.  

The midday sun cast intense, brilliant light.  

“That mountain?”  

“Yes, my lord.”  

Sion stepped forward again and spoke.  

“Please speak more casually. We’re about the same age.”  

“How could I possibly do that?”  

The next morning, Tier, whose eyes were still swollen from crying, treated Sion with even greater caution.  

He had awakened that morning and realized just how reckless and fear-defying his behavior from the previous day had been.  

Had he acted like that toward an ordinary noble or a church priest, he would have lost his head before even dreaming of rescuing his younger sister.  

‘Sion is definitely different. He’s nothing like other priests or knights….’  

At the very least, he had listened carefully to Tier’s story and extended a helping hand.  

To Tier, Sion was the only person who matched the vague image he had always held of a Goddess’s priest.  

The standard seemed impossibly high.  

Tier wanted to grow closer to Sion.  

Not merely to build familiarity, but out of a respectful curiosity.  

The salvation he received last night would never be forgotten, even unto death.  

‘I’m curious about the War Cult too.’  

He wondered what kind of place the cult must be, if it contained such a kind person.  

It was so different—utterly unlike what its name suggested.  

What kind of Goddess was the Goddess of War?  

“By the way, why were you staying in Foils, my lord?”  

“Ah, well, you see…”  

To pass the time on the journey, Sion began recounting what had happened in Foils.  

Though not particularly eloquent, Sion possessed a conversational style that was direct and stripped of unnecessary embellishment—focused solely on the key points.  

His stories weren’t entertaining, but they were easy to become absorbed in.  

“…And that’s how I accidentally ended up at the mercenary guild and met you, Tier.”  

“What?”  

Sion’s calm delivery made Tier question his own ears.  

“Wait, my lord. You’re saying you fought the Holy Sword Brigade, won all three matches within three rounds, and defeated Mains—and you’re telling me this so casually? Without any detailed explanation? Just like that? That’s it?”  

Sion tilted his head, puzzled.  

“I don’t have the talent to embellish things with flowery, exaggerated words like a bard.”  

“No, haha, ha…”  

Tier didn’t doubt whether Sion was telling the truth.  

Doubt never even occurred to him. Just from witnessing Sion’s abilities at the tavern, he already had a rough idea.  

Even so, it still seemed unbelievable.  

He had fought and defeated the Holy Sword Brigade, then encountered and killed a Mains.  

It was an explanation as dry as stating that drinking water quenches thirst.  

In fact, precisely because the account was so calm and matter-of-fact, it sounded even more impressive. The very way Sion treated such extraordinary feats so casually was itself a testament to his strength.  

An empty cart makes the most noise.  

Dazed, Tier murmured:  

“Holy Sword Brigade and a Mains… I’ve only lived in the countryside, so it’s hard to grasp. It feels like a dream.”  

“I felt the same before I saw it with my own eyes.”  

“Anyway, I now understand just how strong you truly are! I feel reassured.”  

Sion scratched his head.  

“Did the conversation really turn that way?”  

“Of course. I’ve heard those bandits are quite strong.”  

At this point, Sion began to grow curious too.  

They were just bandits, after all—how skilled could they possibly be that even mercenaries feared them?  

How formidable could they be to make a holy knight of the Church worry?  

‘Well, I’ll find out when I meet them.’  

Walking a bit faster, they arrived at Tier’s mountain village just as dusk fell.  

The two boys stood abruptly at the entrance of the mountains and momentarily lost their words.  

“…The atmosphere of the village.”  

Perhaps because it was nestled at the foot of the mountain, no sunlight reached it at all.  

The village looked as though night had already completely fallen.  

A chilling cold seeped up from the frozen ground. It was barren, contrary to Tier’s earlier description.  

“It feels ominous. As if stepping in would bring disaster.”  

“Haha, I know it looks that way. But it’s actually quite a cozy village, my lord.”  

The village showed no sign of life whatsoever.  

No houses lit fires, no sounds of children playing in alleys, no villagers chatting idly or napping in the streets.  

Despite being a mining village, not a single sound of pickaxes echoed—making it a strangely silent place.  

‘It’s just like a dead village.’  

Sion narrowed his eyes and scanned the distance.  

Even the smallest details far away were clearly visible.  

‘I can feel eyes watching. There are people… but they won’t come out.’  

He began to grasp the current state of the village.  

“Tier. Is this really the village? Are we sure we haven’t come to the wrong place?”  

“Haha. Yes. But why is it so quiet?”  

Unsettled, Tier wandered around the village.  

With no one else to turn to, he knew he’d have to grab someone and ask.  

“You there! Tier!”  

Suddenly, someone flung open a door and rushed out, calling out to Tier sharply.  

It was an elderly man.  

“Village chief?”  

“Come in! Hurry!”  

The village chief strode over quickly, grabbed both Sion and Tier, and pulled them into the house without even asking who Sion was.  

Bang!  

The chief slammed the door shut violently and peered outside like someone being chased.  

Only after judging it safe did he finally turn to look at Sion and Tier.  

“Thank the gods I spotted you first.”  

“Village chief! What’s going on here?”  

The man was elderly.  

Yet the chief looked far older and more frail than Tier remembered.  

In just the nearly one month that Tier had been suffering in Foils, the chief had deteriorated drastically.  

Seeing this, Tier instantly realized that his own hardships meant nothing.  

After all, he hadn’t faced any threat to his life…  

“I’m the one who should be asking! I thought you were dead, yet you somehow survived and returned!”  

“I went to Foils to seek help.”  

“Tch— Who would care about a backwater village like this? You’ve just wasted your time. You should’ve just run away somewhere instead!”  

“How could I leave my sister behind!”  

“How would I know if she’s alive or dead? The living must survive, you fool!”  

The village chief scolded Tier, ruffling his hair roughly.  

Even then, he kept his voice low, never shouting.  

Even in his own village, he acted this cautiously.  

‘First, I need to hear what’s going on.’  

It looked like the story would be a long one.  

Sion cleared his throat to assert his presence.  

“Ahem. I’ve come to help.”  

The village chief looked at Sion warily before asking:  

“You seem like a noble person. How did you end up traveling with this fellow?”  

“This fellow?”  

Tier lowered his gaze, deflated.  

This gave a hint of how he was treated in the village normally.  

Still, he was clearly someone cherished enough to be urgently brought inside and protected. Tier was a good friend.  

Sion introduced himself politely, drawing the holy symbol of the War Sect.  

“I come from the War Cult. Elder, please tell me in detail about the village’s situation.”  

The chief groaned, “Ugh—” and sat heavily into a chair.  

“The War Cult? Ah. You should leave immediately.”  

“What? Our cult—”  

Sion thought he might be misunderstood and rejected again, but that wasn’t the case.  

“I don’t know what the War Cult is. But this place is dangerous. Those evil ones will resort to violence, even against someone from a church.”  

The village chief was genuinely worried for Sion.  

Sion asked, feeling slightly awkward inside:  

“Are they really so terrifying? They’re just bandits, after all.”  

“Bandits come in all kinds. These ones used to be members of a knightly order. If you think they’re ordinary bandits, you’ll end up dead.”  

Sion began to grow angrier.  

Skilled enough to have served as knights, yet they had settled in this backwater village and were kidnapping women?  

How bad must their tyranny be that people feared bandits more than a servant of the Goddess?  

This situation defied all reason.  

As a holy knight and a priest, he absolutely could not let this pass.  

Sion clenched his jaw.  

‘People must not fear bandits more than the Goddess.’  

The terror and majesty of the Goddess must not be overshadowed by mere bandits.  

How dare they.  

‘There’ll be plenty to deal with.’  

Sion pulled out a chair, sat down, and asked:  

“Please tell me. I can resolve this. The Goddess Achille sent me. Please believe me.”  

The village chief rubbed his face, clearly troubled.  

He sighed deeply, several times.  

“Please, quietly leave. That would be best for us. If they find out we’ve asked outsiders for help…”  

“If they find out?”  

“They’ll kill someone else and take another person.”  

Sion pressed on, his voice growing colder.  

“Who do they take?”  

“The village women. All the young women have been taken. This boy’s younger sister was no exception. Any young men who resisted were killed.”  

The village chief had already given up, overwhelmed by helplessness.  

There was no resistance in him—no will to fight.  

It was only natural to be broken under such overwhelming violence.  

Without the Goddess’s protection, how could one hold onto hope?  

Sion did not feel frustration toward the village chief.  

Instead, he felt fury toward the bandits and clenched his jaw.  

The world truly was vile and evil.  

It was hard to believe this was under the Goddess’s rule.  

“But why only the women?”  

“How would I know? We have no idea what they do with them after taking them. They don’t make any other demands of the village. Sigh…”  

“Are they even still alive?”  

The village chief trembled, his fists shaking.  

“They sometimes send back strands of hair or scraps of clothing… but that’s all we have to go on.”  

Sion suppressed his anger and confirmed the necessary information.  

Having offered himself as a resolver, he was fully committed to this matter.  

“Why didn’t you ask for help? Why did only Tier go alone…?”  

“You see for yourself. If someone disappears, they’ll kill both hostages and villagers alike. How can we speak up? They know every last one of us. At least this boy escaped early and wasn’t counted.”  

That was why they had hoped Tier alone would escape and survive—yet he had stubbornly returned, bringing only one person.  

Now Sion would likely die, and the village would face another bloodbath. The chief’s wrinkles deepened further.  

“Sigh. It’s not too late. Leave now. We’ll handle the village matters ourselves.”  

The village chief had abandoned all hope.  

He was no different from a rotting corpse, waiting only for the day of his death.  

Sion did not agree with the chief’s resignation.  

“It’s alright. That’s precisely why the Goddess of War sent me.”  

It was said that the Goddess of War guided the footsteps of her apostles.  

To where conflict arose.  

To prevent greater suffering.  

Even when there’s no profit or gain.  

Wherever strength is needed, the Apostle of Achille will go.  

‘The Goddess sent me here.’  

That was the pilgrimage of a War Apostle.  

Believing this, Sion reassured the village chief.  

“Do you truly intend to help… alone?”  

“Of course.”  

“It’ll be a pointless death. What can one person do?”  

“Well, we’ll see about that.”  

At the moment the village chief’s eyes flickered slightly.  

Clang! Clang! Clang!  

A sharp metallic sound rang out from outside.  

Perhaps due to the village’s eerie atmosphere, the sound resembled a shriek.

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