Apostle of the Goddess of War

Chapter 71

Ch.71 Apostle of the Goddess of War

Shing.  

A man who had suddenly appeared slowly drew his sword. More people wrapped in black cloaks emerged around him.  

The man at the front raised his hand.  

“You all stay back. I’ll handle this.”  

“He’s not the Sword Ghost!”  

At that moment, Yohart shouted. The black-clad men turned to look behind them.  

“What?”  

“He’s a knight! He probably grabbed the cursed sword while trying to purify it—!”  

“A knight? Why would a knight grab a cursed sword!”  

The unfamiliar swordsman clearly looked flustered.  

Yet, he seemed to instantly grasp the meaning of Yohart’s incoherent explanation, cursing as he stepped forward.  

“What the hell is going on! Damn it!”  

The man’s sword flashed. He intended to subdue Sion, who was hastily holding the cursed sword.  

Kaaang!  

Sion’s cursed sword bent at an incredible speed. It traced a complex trajectory, parrying the man’s attack, creating the illusion that the blade had coiled like a snake.  

“Huh!?”  

The man was startled. He felt an immense wave of force. It traveled up through his bones.  

The man quickly gathered his strength.  

He had underestimated Sion, but this was beyond expectation.  

‘He’s stronger than he was the last time I saw him.’  

The power of a cursed sword varied depending on its host. And the new host… was a candidate apostle of the Goddess of War.  

A level with no visible limits.  

Kwaaak!  

Sion swung the cursed sword. The blade, accompanied by a gust of wind, targeted the man’s opening.  

Chaaang! Chaaang!  

Two strikes passed in an instant. The man’s mind briefly went blank.  

‘This guy… it’ll be hard to subdue him without injuring him, won’t it?’  

In the end, blood would have to be drawn. He wasn’t someone who could be easily subdued. Even though the young boy was gradually gaining control over the cursed sword’s dark aura, that didn’t change.  

‘Is it just that this guy’s skill is this high?’  

But he couldn’t just let it go. Waiting for the young knight to gain full control over the cursed sword himself carried too much risk.  

That was when it happened.  

Whoosh— Vroom!  

The cursed sword swung with a weight like a mountain. It radiated a pressure like a giant’s hammer.  

It was hard to move. He couldn’t even react.  

If a Demon Lord truly existed, would it feel like this? A shiver ran through him.  

Thud.  

Just as the man desperately raised his sword to block the cursed sword, Sion’s blade stopped. The attack had been halted just before impact.  

“Alright, it’s over.”  

“…?”  

Clarity returned to Sion’s eyes. His jewel-like blue eyes sparkled.  

The veins that had bulged on his face and neck gradually subsided.  

‘It’s done.’  

Sion smiled. He had subdued the cursed sword.  

He had purified its raging dark aura with divine power and, in turn, transformed that power into holy energy.  

The ring of divine power circulating within him had grown by half. Among the spoils he had gained since becoming a War Knight, this was the highest grade.  

Sion steadied his slightly trembling hands. There were still minor aftereffects. It was natural—he had touched the cursed sword without any preparation.  

That it ended this well was practically a miracle.  

‘I just need to take a little more time taming it.’  

Sion closed his eyes and offered a prayer to the Goddess. Even the cursed sword he had gained as spoils, he offered as a sacrifice to her.  

“Nonsense. To control a cursed sword without prayer or my blessing…?”  

The Goddess had broken into a cold sweat.  

Even if it was Sion, that had been too dangerous.  

While she worried about his increasing boldness, she also took note of the fact that his talent was blossoming more and more.  

“He’s walking a path no one else has taken.”  

The Goddess slumped into her throne. She rubbed her temples, exhausted.  

“It’s time I grant you the ability to obtain War Apostles as well.”  

Achille closed her eyes and concentrated.  

Granting an ability to an apostle required some time.  

“An apostle needs sufficient weapons. Always.”  

An extra-dimensional weapon storage.  

Another ability engraved upon Sion’s star. Guided by the Goddess’s power, Sion’s extra-dimensional space began to form.  

“It’s done… Phew. It’ll take a little time, but it’s successful.”  

The apostle succession process was proceeding steadily and without issue. The Goddess smiled, satisfied.  

She wanted to rest like this for a while longer, but there was still a problem left.  

Goddess Achille looked at the man standing beside Sion. A man who was also a sore spot for her.  

“Kegan…”  

Whenever a problem arose with Kegan, the Goddess’s power weakened. But now that the restrictions were lifted, she could finally help him.  

And so she arrived at just the right moment.  

“Please, let Sion untangle this knotted thread well.”  

Her violet eyes gazed at the man standing opposite. Sion lowered the cursed sword and tilted his head in confusion.  

“Who… are you?”  

“…Hah.”  

The man exhaled, relieved. He had truly thought he was going to die. Sion holding the cursed sword had been that threatening.  

“I’m the one who should be asking. Who are you? What makes you capable of wielding that dangerous sword?”  

“I asked first.”  

One of the man’s eyebrows furrowed.  

“Look at this impudent brat.”  

He was still very young, yet showed no sign of intimidation. The only person who had ever looked at him without fear was a man named Garfenn.  

Kegan liked that kind of spirit. A man should have determination.  

“I’m the Commander of the Black Banner Unit. Kegan.”  

“Huh?”  

Sion’s attention, previously focused on the cursed sword, snapped back to the present. Who did he say?  

“Commander Kegan?”  

“…I’m not a knight, I’m a mercenary.”  

Kegan felt slightly strange. He clearly wasn’t dressed like a knight, so why was he being addressed with the honorific ‘Commander’?  

“Commander Kegan of the Black Banner Unit. That’s right.”  

Sion murmured to himself. Kegan frowned.  

“So. Who are you?”  

Sion answered, a faint smile on his lips.  

“Hello, senior.”  

“Huh?”  

“I’m Sion from the War Cult. I was sent here by my master… Garfenn.”  

“What?”  

Kegan’s face twisted.  

“Who sent you?”  

***  

“Haaah! Haaah!”  

Even ten years after losing his comrades, Kegan still woke up from nightmares.  

Everywhere was dyed in blood.  

His hands dripped with flesh and entrails.  

He dreamed of killing his comrades with his own hands.  

When he woke from the nightmare, his body was always soaked in sweat, his breathing ragged. He started every day by putting alcohol to his lips.  

Kegan punched his own head and grimaced.  

“This damn nightmare.”  

If only he could remember properly.  

Even that memory was incomplete, like a torn piece of paper.  

The past.  

All his comrades had died, and he had carried out bloody revenge.  

But the ‘why’ and ‘how’ were missing.  

All that remained was unbearable guilt. The guilt was so intense that Kegan believed he had killed his comrades himself.  

He couldn’t think otherwise.  

In fact, there was a way to discover the truth. He could go back to the War Cult, where he once belonged.  

But even that felt somehow distasteful. His heart wasn’t in it. Fear was the strongest emotion.  

For some unknown reason, Kegan had left the Cult. He hadn’t been driven out—he had left of his own will.  

Not knowing the reason made it unbearable.  

Yet, he lacked the courage to confirm the truth, so Kegan considered himself a coward.  

Pain, suffering, agony.  

Kegan wet his parched lips with alcohol.  

Then he recalled last night.  

“Insane…”  

The shocking appearance of the boy. It had been a night he couldn’t endure without drinking heavily.  

‘The War Cult wants me back?’  

The position offered was nothing less than training instructor of the Order of the War Knight.  

He had left of his own accord—returning now would be embarrassing, and being asked to serve the Goddess again was even more cruel.  

‘Are they trying to torment me now?’  

The two great figures of Elim weren’t the type to send someone on a pointless errand.  

His chest felt tight.  

An overwhelming emptiness grew uncontrollably.  

Guilt, anxiety, resentment, and anger.  

The desire to face his lost memories and the fear of doing so.  

All of it reached out like the hands of hell, trying to drag him into the mire.  

Kegan wanted to escape this reality, worse than hell. He wanted to feel light and free.  

‘But…’  

He had lived ten years in hell.  

To repay his unidentifiable guilt, doing good deeds had become the final purpose of his life.  

That’s what he wanted.  

There were so many people suffering like this even now. Leaving them to the threats of monsters and returning to Elm was out of the question.  

‘I guess I have to refuse.’  

His decision was firm.  

Refuse.  

It had been too long ago.  

I, Kegan, will live like this until I burn my life to ashes.  

Kegan finished a rough wash at the stream and went to find the boy named Sion.  

The young War Disciple, who had called him ‘senior’, was already up early, sitting in meditation.  

‘That guy. The flow of his divine power is strange. I’ve never seen anything like it.’  

Had Sion noticed his gaze? He gently opened his eyes and greeted him.  

“Senior. Good morning.”  

“I thought I was hiding my presence.”  

“It’s part of training to detect presence.”  

A calm answer. He wanted to retort, ‘Do you really think that’s so easy?’

Kegan was a master-level swordsman, anyone’s match. Yet last night during the cursed sword incident, and now again, it was the same.  

‘Just how strong is this kid?’  

His face was very youthful. The skill and senses of this boy, who didn’t even seem like an adult, were considerable. It was hard to gauge his level easily.  

‘What kind of monster did Garfenn bring?’  

Feeling slightly uncomfortable, Kegan spoke.  

“I came to give you my answer from yesterday.”  

“Will it be a refusal, as expected?”  

“Huh? What?”  

Kegan doubted his ears. Had he drunkenly revealed his true feelings last night?  

“How did you know?”  

“Well, if it were something that easy to accept, you’d have returned to Elim long ago.”  

Indeed, this guy had no cute side. Kegan sighed deeply.  

“Yes. You’re right. I have to protect this place now. The number of monsters has increased too much. Without my mercenary band, everyone here will die.”  

“That’s right. I agree.”  

“Are you really here to take me away?”  

Sion shrugged. He released his meditation posture and lightly stood up.  

“I will take you. But first, I’ll help you leave this place.”  

“What the hell? Didn’t you hear me?”  

“I heard perfectly. You said you can’t leave because there are too many monsters.”  

“That’s right.”  

“Then just wipe out the monsters, right?”  

Kegan tightly shut his eyes. Just as he thought—Garfenn’s disciple through and through. Reckless and illogical.  

His words were exactly the same.  

“The Goddess of War sent me for a reason.”  

“Hah. Truly the same.”  

“What?”  

“Nothing. Never mind.”  

Kegan turned his body. He shouted at his mercenary band to prepare to leave.  

“I clearly refused. No matter what you say, my mind won’t change.”  

“You need an open mind.”  

“Hmph. Annoying talk. Now you’re sounding like Bishop Gustein.”  

“See? You miss it.”  

“What!”  

Kegan spat on the ground.  

“Go back. The problems here aren’t something you can solve alone.”  

“At least tell me what the problem is.”  

He was slightly irritated.  

He knew he was skilled, but this confidence was excessive.  

There were many geniuses who stood out.  

But when it came to fighting demons, monsters, and demon races, the story changed. Even among geniuses, there were levels, and that was still within the human standard.  

Goddess and Evil God.  

If you included non-human races, then even geniuses among humans were mostly just dust.  

At least, as far as Kegan knew, the only genius on that level was Garfenn.  

“Are you as strong as Master Garfenn?”  

“No.”  

“Then go back.”  

“But I’ll become stronger than that.”  

“Playing with words.”  

Kegan could no longer endure this irritating junior’s provocation.  

“Can you kill an apostle of an Evil God?”  

Despite the obvious provocation, Sion’s gaze was utterly serious.  

“That’s my job.”

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