novelraw Chapter 63
Chapter 63
Ch.63 Apostle of the Goddess of War
―!
The Black Flames split into several streams as they advanced. Unlike Rakian’s Sacred Flame, they didn’t explosively burn things away.
Quite the opposite.
Sssssss…….
The space touched by the Black Flames began to silently erode.
The palace of bones created by the Death Priestess, the skeleton army, the ashen sky—all of it vanished upon contact with the Black Flames, leaving not even ash behind.
It wasn’t being burned away.
Their very existence was being swallowed by the Black Flames.
“W-what in the world…?”
The fire acolyte holding the Holy Scripture stammered. Rakian, and the other fire priests as well, were equally stunned.
The death magic forming the barrier screamed as it was sucked into the Black Flames.
Crack, crunch!
A sound like space tearing echoed.
Cracks began to form in the imaginary world crafted by the Death Priestess. Through the fissures, the original swamp landscape—damp and hazy—briefly appeared and disappeared like mist.
“Y-you…! What in the world is that fire?!”
For the first time, the Death Priestess screamed in terror.
Her creations were helplessly disintegrating before the mysterious Black Flames.
Even death itself, the source of her power, was nothing more than mere firewood before the Black Flames.
Sion didn’t answer.
Instead, he drew more power from the madly spinning rings of holiness.
With efficiency maximized, even a small amount of divine power produced destructive force several times greater than others’.
Wwaaaah!
Sion swung his sword once more.
This time, a larger wave of Black Flames soared toward the sky.
The waves split the ashen sky apart.
Beyond the hole, the real night sky, dotted with countless stars, came into view.
Not the sky within the barrier, but the celestial dome visible from the swamp.
Crashhh—!
Like a massive glass ceiling shattering, the entire domain of death cracked and broke apart.
The palace of bones collapsed like a sandcastle, and the skeleton soldiers turned to dust, buried in the soil.
The ashen fog that had obscured their vision was completely burned away by the Black Flames, vanishing without a trace.
And finally.
The spiritual world surrounding them completely dissolved, and they returned to the original swamp, where the scent of damp earth and the stench of wet grass stung their nostrils.
Complete annihilation, pure destruction.
The Black Flames incinerated death itself.
‘Incredible.’
Sion marveled at his newfound power, at the might of the Black Flames. A tremor ran through his entire body, all the way to his brain.
“…We’re back.”
Rakian murmured in a daze.
The terrifying barrier that had blocked the Goddess of Fire’s power had vanished in just a few swings of this young knight’s sword, as if it were a lie.
He stared at Sion.
Standing at the center of the shattered barrier, Sion had his sword—wrapped in pitch-Black Flames—slung over his shoulder. The real stars of the night sky twinkled as if worshipping the Black Flames.
He radiated the very dignity of an apostle of War.
“Now.”
Sion turned his head toward the Death Priestess, staring straight at her, terrified.
“You have nowhere left to hide.”
The Death Priestess stepped backward.
With her strongest technique broken, she had nothing left.
Even her regeneration ability, nearly immortal, was meaningless before the mysterious Black Flames.
“W-who are you…?!”
Sion slowly walked toward her.
With each step.
The Black Flames completely consumed the aura of death around her.
He answered calmly.
“A knight of the Goddess of War.”
Sion disappeared from her line of sight.
The next instant, he was already behind her.
Swish.
The sword had already swung. A black afterimage traced its path.
“…!”
She didn’t even have time to scream.
Rustle, rustle.
“Ah… ah…”
Her very existence was sucked into the Black Flames, beginning to scatter like dust.
In her final moment, all her eyes reflected was the quiet flame of night consuming her.
……Thus, death met its own annihilation.
***
“S-Sir Sion!”
The Order of the War Knight members were checking on Set and Tier’s conditions.
They were still alive, but their state couldn’t be described as stable, even with the kindest words.
At this rate, even their lives, barely clinging on, were in danger. Both had had their souls drained and exposed to the ancient monster’s soul. Pale blood vessels rose on their skin, and their breaths were shallow, as if fading away.
‘Set, Tier…’
Both had risked their lives fighting for the Goddess of War. They had given their all to destroy evil—worthy of being called heroes.
Sion wanted them to receive proper praise and care. They had just emerged into the world, beginning to see the light—was this where it ended?
‘No.’
Sion knelt down.
He intended to save their lives through prayer, offering them as sacrifices to the Goddess.
[Sion, pray.]
The Goddess, too, had descended from her throne to activate her divine power for the sake of her great War Knight members.
“Sir Sion? May we take a look?”
Rakian approached, accompanied by a fire acolyte. The atmosphere was solemn. The reason was easy to guess. It wasn’t something Sion needed to concern himself with.
“Can you heal them?”
Sion cleared the area. Rakian cautiously approached and knelt before Set and Tier.
He closed his eyes and slowly ran his hands over their bodies. A flame bloomed in his hands like a lantern.
“….”
“How is it?”
“It’s not good. The aura of death is eating away at their souls. Their souls are infected with a plague.”
“Is there no way?”
Rakian slightly shook his head. It was a gesture meant to reassure.
“Purifying the aura of death with Sacred Flame is the specialty of the fire priests.”
“Really?”
“Of course.”
Sion clenched his fist. The Order of the War Knight cheered. Even Rakian’s lips curved into a faint smile. He seemed relieved to be able to return the favor.
“Then, I’ll concentrate for a moment. Gather around.”
Rakian called the fire priests. They formed a circle around Tier and Set.
They began a joint prayer—a ritual to draw upon the power of fire and purify the souls tainted by death.
All five recited the exact same prayer, word for word.
The impression of a religious ritual and an incomprehensible prayer was both solemn and eerie.
The prayer praising the Goddess of Fire flowed like a melody.
The Death Cult and the Fire Cult had many similarities. They seemed less like religions and more like something closer to sorcery.
Sion silently observed the ritual, watching with his eyes for changes in the dark energy.
As the prayer continued, the Sacred Flame cleansing Set and Tier’s bodies grew stronger. Their entire bodies burned, yet their skin remained unharmed.
Only the plague of death within them was being burned away.
The broken and cracked circuits within the two began to slowly heal.
It was a miraculous moment. The fire priests’ purification ritual was wondrous.
“Phew.”
“Is it over?”
“Yes. The crisis has passed. There will be aftereffects, but nothing to worry too much about. With a few months of rest and prayers to the Goddess, even those will heal.”
Sion bowed deeply. The Order of the War Knight followed suit.
“Thank you. How can we ever repay this kindness?”
Rakian waved his hand dismissively, as if saying such words were unnecessary.
“It’s us who received the favor. We were on the brink of certain death, and you saved us.”
“That’s…”
“The War’s Sacred Flame was impressive. A sight I’ll never forget, even in death.”
“Thank you.”
Rakian patted Sion’s shoulder.
“To be honest, I never thought I’d see Sacred Flame that I couldn’t produce. No, that’s still true. That belief hasn’t changed. It’s just—”
The fire priestess holding the Fire Scripture finished his sentence.
“This boy is a genius.”
“Hmm.”
The woman with the chain scythe nodded as well. Everyone agreed. They had never seen such genius before.
To replicate a Sacred Flame he’d just seen for the first time—and reinterpret it using only the power unique to the Godess of War.
“You flatter me.”
Rakian smiled warmly at Sion’s humility. Beneath his mask, kindness was evident.
“I’m looking forward to your future. Soon, the rumor of a young War Knight will spread across the southern continent.”
“Haha…”
“At least the central continent can rest easy from the Evil God’s influence. The War Cult stands strong.”
Rakian reached into his robe and pulled out a rolled-up bundle of paper.
“What is this?”
Sion asked as he received the bundle.
“A small token of appreciation.”
“I’ve already received more than enough.”
He had saved Set and Tier’s lives. Thanks to that, he didn’t have to offer sacrifices to the War Goddess.
He already felt the debt was repaid, and this was an unexpected bonus.
“Consider it a sign of goodwill. I hope we can continue to exchange favors with the War Cult.”
“…Understood. We welcome it as well.”
“It’s a rare herb that only grows in the jungle managed by our Cult. Chew it when you suffer a serious wound—it’ll numb the pain.”
In other words, a kind of narcotic. But its effectiveness was among the best even in the Empire.
“It’s an herb you can never obtain without going through us, so use it sparingly.”
“Thank you…!”
Sion carefully stored the bundle of paper. This herb would be a great help in future battles. It could save them from danger several times when needed.
‘But managing narcotics…’
Truly like the Fire Cult. They were mysterious and secretive in many ways. Definitely different in nature from the Light Cult.
“If you have time, I’d like to invite you to our Cult. I want to research the Black Flames, and properly express my gratitude.”
Rakian proposed outright. Sion hesitated briefly before answering.
“I’m grateful for the offer, but…”
“Ah, I see. You probably don’t have the time. Sorry for the pressure.”
“No, not at all. Please invite me again when the opportunity arises.”
Rakian said firmly.
“The Goddess of Fire’s temple will always welcome you. When you need anything, come and speak my name. You’ll be treated as an honored guest.”
“I understand. Thank you. Sir Rakian, please visit Elim sometime as well.”
“Haha! I will.”
Thud.
The fire priests set off down the path. They said they would spend a few more days in the swamp, eliminating any possible threats or monsters.
They also decided to recheck and reinforce the seal on the ancient monster.
Since the fire priests took care of all the troublesome matters, the Order of the War Knight was able to wrap up their work very comfortably.
“Well then. I wish you fortune.”
“May the blessing of Sacred Flame be at your feet.”
“See you again, boy.”
As they left, the fire priests each bowed or waved. They were free-spirited yet mysterious disciples.
Sion had never seen a Cult so genuinely friendly toward the War Cult.
Not so much friendly, but rather, they seemed to have no interest in the War Cult at all, and thus had never developed any negative perception of it.
‘Good is good.’
Sion faintly smiled and gathered the knights.
“Prepare camp. We’ll rest today and depart early tomorrow morning.”
“Yes…!”
***
Clip-clop, clip-clop!
Horse hooves rang urgently.
Breaking through the camp’s entrance, the rider galloped straight to where the commander was stationed.
The rider, with a black banner tied to his back, had an arrow embedded in his arm. Despite the wound, he had ridden here without pause.
He carried a mountain of urgent news.
“Commander, Commander!”
“…!?”
The rider jumped off his horse and searched for the commander. The commander quickly pulled back the tent flap and stuck his head out.
He was a middle-aged man with a fierce expression.
Judging by his condition… the rider’s arrow wound was nothing in comparison.
His side and shoulder were covered in serious injuries.
“What the hell kind of horrible news now, Kwai?”
“More Blood Cultists have appeared in the south!”
“F*ck! Don’t those damn mosquitoes ever sleep?!”
Bang!
The commander clenched his fist and punched the tent pole. They had just returned from battle. Bandages weren’t even fully wrapped, and now they had to march out again.
His body and mind felt like they were breaking.
Yet, the commander of the Black Banner Unit gave no outward sign and issued the order.
“Gather all the uninjured men. We leave immediately!”
“A-are you sure? Your body…”
“Do you think someone in your condition would’ve rushed here so urgently? Get lost!”
“Y-yes, understood!”
The commander returned to the tent. To forget the pain, he guzzled cheap, strong liquor and grumbled.
“Damn it. I’d grab the Goddess of War’s ankle if I could.”
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