Apostle of the Goddess of War

Chapter 29

Ch.29 Apostle of the Goddess of War

When they emerged from the mine cave, the dim light of dawn was spread across the land.  

After a long night, sunlight—soft like a mother’s gentle touch—wrapped around the women, as if they had finally tasted hope.  

Yet the women could not look directly at the bright sun.  

The moment they saw each other’s faces, the scars branded upon their foreheads were the first things to catch their eyes.  

Some lowered their bangs to cover their foreheads, while others tore pieces of cloth from their clothes and used them as makeshift head coverings.  

Because of one madman, how many women had lost their ordinary lives?  

Was it permissible, in the name of the Goddess, to steal the lives of innocent, vulnerable people?  

‘…Truly.’  

With an uneasy heart, Sion led them down toward the village.  

When Sion arrived in the village, he was astonished.  

“There are… people here?”  

“Huh? Really?”  

Tier, standing beside him, reacted with equal surprise.  

The village chief had clearly said they would leave the village if he didn’t return within half a day.  

Yet people were still here.  

Even smoke rose from the chimneys.  

If someone had lit a fire in the morning, didn’t that mean they were preparing food?  

Sion led Tier and the women into the village.  

As they appeared, people began emerging one by one from their homes.  

Even the village chief finally opened his door and stepped out.  

His face was clean-shaven, the messy beard completely gone.  

The chief greeted Sion warmly.  

“Sir Knight. You’ve returned.”  

“Chief? You didn’t leave?”  

Sion wouldn’t have been surprised or disappointed if they had left.  

In fact, he had considered it only natural.  

He would have been troubled about what to do with the remaining women, after all.  

“I decided to trust.”  

“What?”  

“…Didn’t you say you were sent by the Goddess?”  

“I did.”  

“That’s all. When everyone else turned their backs on me, the Goddess was the one who reached out to help. I chose to believe in her.”  

For a moment, Sion felt a lump in his throat.  

Even the Goddess pinched the tip of her nose, fighting back tears as she leaned against the wall.  

“…Thank you. Thank you for believing in me.”  

“No, it’s we who should be thanking you. Thank you.”  

The village chief took Sion’s hand. It was a rough hand, one that had spent a lifetime building and protecting the village. Yet it felt softer than sunlight.  

Sion clasped the hand firmly.  

Smiling, the chief led Sion forward.  

“Let’s go. I knew you’d return, so I prepared a feast.”  

“Wow, really?”  

“Of course. We’ll honor our village hero. It’s not much, but it’s what we have.”  

The chief led Sion away, and the villagers reunited tearfully with their lost daughters, wives, and loved ones.  

They had endured a terrible ordeal. The banquet proceeded with a calm, subdued atmosphere.  

The meal was modest, with little to offer, but more importantly, they couldn’t simply laugh and celebrate when they had lost people to mourn.  

They ate simply, chatted quietly, shared empathy for the suffering they had endured, and wore sorrowful expressions.  

Sion steadily tore bread and scooped soup into his mouth.  

Despite having witnessed a tragedy and accomplished something extraordinary, he neither bragged nor showed pride.  

He made no demands, asked for no rewards or compensation.  

“This soup is slightly sweet. It’s delicious. What did you put in it?”  

Seeing Sion—such a down-to-earth knight of the Cult—the village chief felt an odd impression.  

Should he call him detached? Certainly, this boy was no ordinary child. He was barely old enough to be a grandson.  

He had single-handedly defeated a bandit gang.  

That gang had numbered in the dozens, including skilled mercenaries, and others had long since given up.  

Were all knights like this?  

Surely not. There was no doubt that this boy, Sion, was special.  

The chief grew curious about Sion—and about the War Cult he belonged to.  

In truth, he had already decided in his heart to stay and wait for Sion, rather than abandon the village.  

“Um… would it be possible for us to join the War Cult?”  

At those words, Sion paused with his spoon halfway to his mouth. He smiled warmly and nodded. His expression said he didn’t even need to hear the answer.  

In fact, it was only natural.  

What priest in the world would turn away someone who wished to join their Cult?  

Especially for the War Cult, whose followers were nearly wiped out, such a welcome was even more essential.  

“Of course. But is there a special reason you’re asking all of a sudden?”  

“We met an extraordinary person and received exceptional help. Even if we were forced to convert, we’d accept it willingly.”  

“Force? No, nothing like that will happen.”  

Sion waved his hand dismissively. The chief liked Sion even more for his sincere nature.  

Tier, Silvia, and the other villagers eating nearby felt the same way.  

One by one, they began to take interest in the War Cult.  

From the moment Sion saved their lives, the grace of the Goddess of War had become an unforgettable, sacred memory.  

“Me too! Sir! Can my younger sister and I follow you all the way to the church?”  

“Uh…?”  

Tier was especially eager.  

“Kekeke,” the chief laughed and added, “He’s got no attachment to this village anyway. No family ties. Take him and use him as a servant if you’d like.”  

“No, that’s not what I meant—”  

“Please, Sir Sion! I beg you! I’ll do anything! I want to serve Lady Achille, the Goddess of War, up close!”  

“Haha…”  

Sion chuckled awkwardly.  

He didn’t know how to respond.  

Tier, the chief, and others kept approaching Sion as he ate, pleading to join the War Cult.  

They begged to be taken along, asking how they could believe in the Goddess of War.  

When was Sunday? What were the prayers?  

The chief gathered everyone’s opinions into one.  

“What do you think? Let’s make the War Cult our village’s official religion!”  

“I agree!”  

“Oh, of course! There’s no need to ask!”  

“Yes, yes!”  

“I’ll carve a statue of the Goddess of War! We’ll place it at the village entrance!”  

The village’s only carpenter immediately stood up. Everyone was enthusiastic.  

Sion, scratching his head, was at a loss over the astonishing change.  

The Goddess watching from afar felt the same.  

[Ohhh, my Sion. This miracle you’ve brought forth. This Goddess is moved… sniffle.]  

His luck was tremendous.  

Not only had he completed Chairman Apur’s task and earned a huge sum of sponsorship money,  

but he had also converted an entire village to the faith.  

Miracles were unfolding along Sion’s path.  

Guided by the Goddess, achieved through Sion’s efforts.  

‘I suppose converting one village means the wealth of an entire village has been added to my assets?’  

The Goddess chuckled and answered his unspoken thought.  

[Is that all? My power has slightly recovered as my number of believers grows. As a reward, I shall grant you my blessing, Sion.]  

The Goddess of War returned a portion of her restored power to Sion.  

[My warrior shall never be struck by blind blades or arrows on any battlefield.]  

The divine barrier of the Goddess of War settled upon Sion’s cloak.  

Unaware of this fact, Sion smiled and relayed the message.  

“Our Goddess cherishes everyone. You’ve made a wise choice.”  

The chief, now fully enthusiastic, asked eagerly—by now, the gathering had turned into an impromptu worship session centered on Priest Sion.  

“Then, what is the prayer? What do we say before meals?”  

Sion’s mind went blank, as if doused with cold water.  

‘Uh… there isn’t one?’  

***  

“Truly amazing, Sir Sion. I never thought you’d actually pull it off.”  

Apur wrinkled his ugly face and turned away from the object Sion had brought.  

It was Holt’s head, pale and lifeless.  

He couldn’t believe a young boy could casually carry such a thing around. How could his stomach be so strong?  

Since Apur had demanded Holt’s head as proof of mission completion, Sion had brought it—but seeing Apur recoil in horror made Sion feel rather absurd.  

Sion didn’t reveal the full details of what happened in the mining village to Apur.  

There was no benefit in telling him about a corrupted knight kidnapping women to forcibly turn them into priestesses.  

Nor was it a pleasant story for a fellow religious person to hear about corruption in another Cult.  

“He’d grown weary after a long period of hiding and fled into a cave. His body was weakened, so I was fortunate enough to defeat him.”  

“How modest of you.”  

Apur used the tip of his finger to pull cloth over the object, covering the grotesque man’s head. Meanwhile, he thought to himself:  

Indeed, my judgment was flawless.  

I made a small investment and hit the jackpot.  

‘He’ll become a major figure soon. The profit I gain from giving him a little gold and a share of the mine’s profits is substantial.’  

Whether the War Cult he belonged to grew stronger, or whether Sion alone rose to fame, both outcomes benefited Apur.  

Either way, it was no loss to him.  

“There are no further issues?”  

“Of course not! Ah! Would you be interested in taking on an additional request?”  

Sion’s eyes narrowed slightly.  

Does he take me for a mercenary?  

“Have you forgotten I’m a knight?”  

Apur quickly brought his hand to his lips, licking them nervously.  

Indeed, Sion was not an ordinary knight.  

‘He hasn’t fallen into corruption like other religious men, yet his greed surpasses anyone’s. He’s ambitious. He thinks big. Remarkable for such a young age.’  

This boy was terrifying—one who could strip Apur of everything he owned if Apur ever let his guard down.  

But the greater the investment, the greater the return.  

Precisely because he was honest and faithful.  

Apur abandoned his usual cautiousness and smiled at Sion.  

“As promised, I’ll send the regular sponsorship and reconstruction funds every month without fail.”  

“Thank you, Chairman. May good things come your way.”  

Sion shook Apur’s hand and left the chairman’s office.  

As soon as Sion appeared, Loenhaugter immediately turned his gaze toward him.  

This old knight raised his mustache into a broad smile the moment he saw Sion.  

“See? I was right?”  

“Huh?”  

“Didn’t I say Sir Sion would win?”  

“Well, I was just lucky.”  

“There’s no such thing as someone who’s lucky every time.”  

Loenhaugter escorted Sion all the way outside the building.  

Though he was Apur’s personal attendant, the man seemed strangely idle.  

When they finally reached the main gate, Loenhaugter asked,  

“How did Holt meet his end?”  

“Hmm. I’m not sure. He seemed full of regret, I suppose?”  

Sion honestly recalled Holt’s final expression—the man he had personally sent off. Loenhaugter nodded thoughtfully and opened the gate.  

“Thank you, Sir Sion.”  

“…Sir Loenhaugter, what was your relationship with Holt?”  

“An old comrade-in-arms. Let’s just say that.”  

It was a long era of war.  

How many fleeting connections had passed among men who carried swords?  

Especially those who survived—survival itself was proof of strength.  

Their bonds and enmities alike ran deep.  

“Sir Sion. Be careful. Your fame is growing steadily, and with it, many pests will come crawling.”  

“I’ll be cautious then.”  

Sion gave a brief nod and stepped through the gate.  

***  

At the eastern gate of Foils, a group of new believers waited for Sion.  

“Huh?”  

“You’re here. It’s been a while.”  

“Master!”  

To his surprise, Garfenn had come to greet Sion.  

He was still huge, like a grizzly bear, and had a hideous face.  

But seeing his master after so long, Sion felt as joyful as if meeting his own father.  

Garfenn gave him such stability, such peace of mind.  

“How did you meet these people?”  

“Don’t be so surprised. The Goddess led me here.”  

“Oh, I see!”  

Garfenn laughed and ruffled Sion’s hair.  

“By the way, Sion. You… what on earth have you been up to in my absence?”  

“Huh? Haha.”  

Garfenn’s eyes widened, and he glared at Sion as if about to scold him.  

Sion tensed slightly—but then Garfenn burst into loud laughter.  

“The Goddess won’t stop praising you. I’m getting sick of it—my ears are bleeding!”

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