Apostle of the Goddess of War

Chapter 33

Ch.33 Apostle of the Goddess of War

“Who are you?”  

The man sitting at the table twitched irritably as he looked at Sion. Sion calmly stared back and asked:  

“That story you mentioned earlier. Could you please explain it in more detail?”  

His tone was polite, yet the atmosphere was oppressive.  

The man felt a surge of defiance, but for some reason, he sensed he shouldn’t resist.  

He obediently answered. It wasn’t anything particularly secretive anyway.  

“It started about a month ago. People traveling around here began losing their way.”  

“Hmm.”  

“Do you not know the reason?”  

“That’s right. Even lifelong residents of this village can’t make it outside.”  

All three men at the table agreed it was a baffling situation. They added that the same reaction could be expected no matter where you asked in the village.  

“There are rumors it’s the work of demon kin.”  

“But demons appear even in holy cities, don’t they? I think it’s magic.”  

“Could it be the Goddess’s wrath? Perhaps she’s punishing us.”  

“Punishing for what?”  

“How should I know?”  

The men each speculated on possible reasons. Sion asked them another question he was curious about.  

“Has there been any fighting around here recently?”  

“Fighting?”  

“There was. Rumor has it some knights came and defeated monsters.”  

“Rumor?”  

Sion’s eyes flashed. This was important.  

But the men merely shrugged as if it were nothing significant.  

“I don’t know. It’s just a rumor. No one’s seen it with their own eyes.”  

“Everyone just says they heard it.”  

“So there’s no source for the rumor.”  

“That’s right.”  

Sion judged he had obtained the information he needed, and pulled out a gold coin, offering it to them.  

“Ah, uh…”  

“If you hear anything more about the rumors, please let me know. I’ll be at that table over there.”  

“Got it, young man.”  

“What a good person. I almost misunderstood him.”  

Sion smiled lightly and returned to his seat.  

Shortly after, he was sharing the stories he had heard from Garfenn and Tier.  

“Can you give me a gold coin too?”  

A young man with a refreshing smile appeared at Sion’s table. His physique suggested he had trained in martial arts.  

Sion and Garfenn could easily tell.  

“Who are you?”  

When Sion asked, the young man tapped his chest and answered.  

“Bardion. Around here, I’m known as the Flowing Blade.”  

“Flowing Blade”—it seemed he was famous for fighting like water, fluid and seamless.  

“I’m not from around here, so I don’t know much. I’m Sion of the War Cult.”  

In any case, Sion welcomed the knight who had revealed his identity first. It was proper knightly etiquette.  

Upon hearing the words ‘War Cult’, Bardion’s eyes flickered slightly.  

“Oh ho, really? A knight? And from the War Cult, no less. What an unexpected meeting.”  

“Haha, our Cult is rather small.”  

Sion chuckled awkwardly. Bardion smoothly eased the atmosphere with good manners.  

“Size doesn’t matter. What matters is sincerity.”  

“So… what is it you want?”  

Sion cut straight to the point, clearly signaling he had no interest in small talk.  

Bardion caught on and immediately leaned forward, whispering.  

“The rumor that people get lost when they leave the village… I know the truth behind it.”  

Garfenn’s eyebrows twitched as he listened. Tier looked like he wanted to say something, but seeing Garfenn remain silent, he held back.  

Sion flicked a gold coin and asked:  

“What is it?”  

Bardion, the Flowing Blade, casually caught the coin mid-air, pulled over a chair, and sat down.  

His movements were as smooth as flowing water—his nickname seemed well-earned.  

“In fact, it is magic. A barrier has been placed over this entire area.”  

“Magic… Who cast it?”  

“I don’t know that. But I do know how to escape it. I discovered it by accident.”  

“Hmm.”  

“Do you have somewhere you need to go?”  

Bardion countered.  

Sion hesitated, about to gauge Garfenn’s reaction, then stopped.  

‘I should make my own decision. That’s what Master wants.’  

Sion requested the information he wanted, but wrapped it in two layers. He couldn’t reveal everything to a stranger.  

“I’m trying to go upstream. I have someone to meet.”  

“Hmm. The upper reaches of the river have become quite dangerous lately.”  

“Why?”  

“Devotees of an evil god have set up camp there. They kill anyone who approaches. For now, it’s best not to go near that area.”  

As he spoke, Bardion continued:  

“The person you’re trying to meet… might be in danger too.”  

“Yes. That’s exactly why I’m going.”  

“Hmm. Even for a member of the Cult, it’s dangerous. Very dangerous.”  

“How many are there?”  

Bardion nodded with concern.  

“At least several dozen. That’s just the number patrolling the area.”  

“There could be more.”  

“Yes. In fact, the villagers should’ve evacuated long ago… But it’s too late now. They’ve already taken control of the entire region. No one can escape.”  

“Are they attacking the village?”  

“Yes.”  

He said they didn’t seem to be targeting the villagers directly.  

This was, of course, only Bardion’s subjective opinion.  

‘So the real target must be the Wildflower Cult.’  

Sion mentally compiled the information.  

In the end, if the evil god’s followers consumed the Wildflower Cult, the village would likely be in danger too.  

Sion didn’t know why the evil god’s followers were targeting the Wildflower Cult, but either way, they needed to be eliminated first.  

“Sir Bardion. I ask a favor. Will you guide me upstream?”  

“…Hmm. Are you sure it’s safe?”  

“I can’t stay here. I came to help those in crisis.”  

Bardion’s face lit up with emotion.  

“Indeed, a true knight.”  

“…Something like that.”  

Sion scratched his cheek, embarrassed.  

Soon, Bardion readily agreed.  

He even expressed his willingness to help.  

Snap!  

Bardion snapped his fingers. With a bright smile, he moved his lips.  

“Very well. I’ll guide you.”  

“Are you sure?”  

“I’ve been protecting the village with my clan members anyway. It’s what a knight should do.”  

Bardion gestured behind him. Two men, presumably his comrades, raised their beer mugs in salute.  

“Thank you for your help.”  

“Good. When will we leave?”  

“Right now.”  

Bardion grinned and gave a thumbs-up.  

“Yes. Then I’ll wait at the small dock outside the village. Get ready and come out.”  

“Understood.”  

Bardion left the tavern with his comrades. Sion watched his back, then began eating the now-cooled food.  

Finally given a chance to speak, Tier burst out with the pent-up chatter he had been holding back.  

“So there truly is miraculous guidance! My faith was lacking!”  

Tier clenched his fist.  

Having personally experienced the path opening as he believed in the Goddess, he couldn’t help but tremble with awe.  

Tier’s faith had deepened even further.  

“……”  

Meanwhile, Sion and Garfenn remained silent, chewing their food without a word.  

 ***  

After a simple meal, Sion’s group boarded the boat where Bardion was waiting.  

Including Sion’s party of three, seven people boarded the boat. One was the boatman.  

“By the way, what kind of place is the War Cult? I don’t believe the bad reputation is true.”  

As the boat slowly traveled upstream through the misty river, Bardion asked. He was cutting and eating a bright red apple with a dagger.  

“Thank you. The bad reputation isn’t true. Our doctrine is to use force to rescue the weak.”  

“Indeed. Rumors can’t be trusted. Just looking at you, Sir Sion, proves that.”  

Bardion smiled warmly.  

He was a likable person.  

Even so, he didn’t dare speak to Garfenn, who hadn’t said a word this whole time.  

He only glanced at him occasionally.  

Swish, swish.  

Only the sound of the oars cutting through the water could be heard.  

Bardion searched for something else to say.  

He wasn’t someone who could endure awkward silence.  

“Judging by your stance, you seem quite skilled with a blade.”  

Bardion looked alternately at Garfenn and Sion as he spoke.  

“I wouldn’t say I’m someone notable out in the world.”  

Sion smiled faintly.  

Garfenn remained completely silent.  

To someone who didn’t know him, he might seem mute.  

“Hmm, you’re too modest. You clearly have far more skill than you let on.”  

Bardion grinned.  

His overly smooth manner was starting to become slightly unpleasant.  

And then, he began to cross the line.  

“If it’s not too much of a bother, could I challenge you to a sparring match once we reach land?”  

Slice.  

He cut another piece of apple as he asked.  

He clearly had great confidence in his abilities.  

“I’m busy. I’m sorry.”  

“Is that so? Then I suppose there’s no choice. I’ll just have to kill you here.”  

The words slipped from Bardion’s mouth with shocking naturalness.  

The transition was so smooth that Sion’s approach seemed like a normal handshake request.  

The Flowing Blade. Truly, he wielded his sword like flowing water.  

But he had picked the wrong opponent.  

Specifically, Sion.  

And Garfenn, with his eyes wide open.  

Whoosh!  

Sion, as if he had anticipated the assassination attempt, instantly seized Bardion’s wrist.  

Crack!  

He twisted the wrist sharply, then drew his sword with his left hand in a reverse grip and swung.  

In an instant, Bardion lost his right arm. Blood gushed violently from the severed stump.  

“What?”  

Before he could even comprehend what had happened, the situation was already over.  

Sion had already killed Bardion’s comrade who had tried to attack from behind, and the other man attempting to assault Garfenn had his neck twisted and killed by Garfenn’s hand.  

“What in the—!?”  

The most shocked was Tier. Unlike Sion and Garfenn, he had not suspected Bardion at all.  

So naturally, he froze in shock at the sudden assassination attempt. Had he been alone, he would already have been on his way to the afterlife.  

Sion pointed his sword at Bardion. Bardion, pale as a ghost, clutched his severed right arm.  

“Ugh… ugh…”  

“Who sent you?”  

Sion asked.  

Despite having just taken a life, his emotions showed no change.  

This man was clearly an enemy.  

“Heh heh.”  

Bardion’s demeanor suddenly shifted, as if he were someone else entirely.  

“Blood is meant to flow onto the earth. That is what my Goddess desires.”  

“…So you’re a Blood Cultist.”  

Sion narrowed his eyes.  

“You have no right to insult us War Cult members. Who spilled more blood across this land than the Goddess of War herself? Kheheh!”  

“What do you hope to gain by attacking the Wildflower Cult? What’s your goal?”  

“Indeed… You already know everything, don’t you? My mission was to eliminate nuisances like you before they could interfere.”  

Drip, drip.  

Bardion’s neck bone twisted grotesquely. The deformity went beyond mere grotesqueness.  

His eyes were filled with blood, glowing crimson.  

“Don’t interfere with our grand design, hypocrite.”  

Slash!  

Sion’s sword swiftly cut through the air. Its trajectory ended at Bardion’s neck.  

Thus, Bardion’s body was left without his head.  

“Hiiiii!”  

Tier couldn’t recover from the sudden bloodshed. It was gruesome, even for someone aspiring to join the War Knights.  

“Well done, Sion.”  

Garfenn finally spoke, after everything was over. He turned to the boatman, who had stopped rowing.  

“Can we still go upstream?”  

The boatman silently nodded.  

“Then please keep rowing.”  

Nod.  

The boatman calmly resumed steering the boat, as if such events were commonplace.  

“So there really was a sinister motive. I never imagined he’d be a devotee of an Evil God.”  

Sion spoke as he searched Bardion’s body. Garfenn sighed, still shaken.  

“I knew because the Goddess whispered it to me. But you figured it out on your own.”  

“I was just being cautious. I didn’t expect him to attack so openly. Ah, found it.”  

As he spoke, Sion pulled up Bardion’s sleeve and showed it to Garfenn.  

Garfenn approached and frowned. There was a strange tattoo on Bardion’s forearm.  

Sion couldn’t recognize it yet, so Garfenn identified it.  

After studying the symbol briefly, Garfenn nodded.  

“It’s the mark of the Evil God of Blood.”  

“The Evil God of Blood?”  

“Yes. Beings that drink human blood. These ones are also called vampires in particular.”  

“I’ve… heard of them.”  

Tier joined the conversation. Garfenn added, “They’re truly vile creatures.”  

“To think so many Evil God devotees are wandering around. It’s a bit shocking.”  

Sion frowned, and Garfenn agreed.  

“They’re rare outside the Cult’s territory, but recently they’ve been especially active.”  

“What could be their reason for targeting the Wildflower Cult?”  

Garfenn stroked his chin thoughtfully for a moment, then spoke.  

“It’s likely a sacred relic.”  

“A sacred relic?”  

“I can’t be certain yet. We’ll find out once we reach the Wildflower Cult.”  

In any case, they seemed to have uncovered the identity of the force attacking the Wildflower Cult.  

Having achieved his objective, Sion searched Bardion’s corpse, took back the gold coin he had originally given, along with other items, then tossed the body into the river.  

Splash!  

Bardion’s body quickly resurfaced, but was immediately carried away by the swift current.  

Garfenn watched and muttered.  

“The Flowing Blade. Fittingly, he floats downstream.”

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