Apostle of the Goddess of War

Chapter 74

Ch.74 Apostle of the Goddess of War

“Tell me everything about Sword Master?”  

The young junior’s words were an offer too tempting to refuse.  

Kegan had no particular desire to teach.  

However, as a knight who wielded a sword, as a practitioner of the sword path, to see such a brilliant raw gem and not want to polish it would be a lie.  

The War Cult was a complicated entity—both loved and loathed.  

It wasn’t that he lacked affection for it.  

His strong desire to nurture a promising junior shouldn’t be considered an excessive ambition.  

The truth was simply that he wanted to see how beautifully such a refined raw gem could transform into a magnificent jewel.  

‘Even so…’  

It wouldn’t be easy.  

This kid was Garfenn’s disciple.  

With a master far superior to himself, who was Kegan to teach him?  

‘I don’t even have the talent to teach in the first place.’  

Damn it.  

Fucking hell.  

Looking at this guy named Sion only made him swear. Why?  

Because of his ridiculous talent.  

Kegan had never once felt that his own talent was lacking.  

Unless you were a monster like Garfenn, there was nowhere he’d be ignored or feel inferior in strength.  

‘But this one’s different. He’s for real.’  

That feeling he had when he saw Garfenn—  

a sense of awe so profound that even inferiority didn’t arise.  

He felt it again, from this Sion, this brat who had just declared himself to be 16 years old.  

‘Who the hell suddenly enters the realm of mental domains while secluded alone inside themselves?’  

At first, Kegan had only noticed him because he was isolated.  

Maybe I should talk to him.  

Since he was curious anyway, perhaps he’d ask about the current status of the people from Elimm.  

That was why he approached.  

But Sion was training. Kegan thought that impressive for such a young age.  

Immediately after eating, he started training—a routine his subordinates wouldn’t do even if they were about to die.  

Indeed, this one was different from the start.  

‘But that wasn’t all.’  

He continued observing the training.  

He noticed the flow of sacred energy wasn’t ordinary. It resembled how a demon race might manipulate it, yet was slightly different.  

It was a completely new method he’d never seen before.  

Out of curiosity, he kept watching, and then witnessed an incredible transformation.  

Suddenly, sacred energy exploded and surged, entering Sion’s domain along with him.  

‘Even when he grasped the demon blade, it wasn’t this intense.’  

He had grown in real time, achieving inner enlightenment.  

It was unbelievable. Had he not seen it with his own eyes, he would’ve dismissed it as nonsense.  

Unless the Goddess of War herself had directly descended into a human body, how could such a thing be possible?  

But it is possible.  

It exists.  

Such a human being exists.  

And right there, standing right in front of Kegan.  

Undeniable proof stood right before his eyes.  

‘Oh Goddess of War, what kind of monster have you nurtured this time?’  

Kegan sighed deeply.  

Sion was waiting for his answer.  

This cunning young swordsman seemed to already know the answer.  

And strangely, that didn’t bother Kegan.  

It was annoying, yes, but not unpleasant.  

A subtle difference.  

And that subtlety began to crack the rigid wall around Kegan’s heart.  

‘What can I possibly teach this kid?’  

A brief moment of contemplation followed. After a short pause, Kegan opened his mouth.  

“Get up. Grab your sword.”  

“Are we sparring?”  

Kegan massaged his shoulders as he spoke.  

“Well, you already have sufficient mental composure. Just maintain that.”  

Besides,  

“As for swordsmanship, I probably have nothing to teach you. You’d be better off learning from your master. Although, even then, you might not have much to learn from him either?”  

It was the correct answer.  

‘As expected, his insight is exceptional.’  

He had never even properly seen Sion swing a sword, yet he had already grasped his level completely—and with excellent accuracy.  

“Geniuses like you usually don’t need much instruction. The only things I have more of than you are experience and dirty tricks.”  

Sion smirked.  

“Those might be worth learning, though?”  

“They’re techniques I’ve acquired from rolling in the mud for decades. Feel free to steal them if you can.”  

That was when it happened.  

“Hey! Look! Is the boss going to fight that little brat?”  

The members of the Black Banner Unit, bored as bedtime approached, began to focus on Sion and Kegan.  

A duel. Perfect entertainment before sleep.  

Those not on guard duty grabbed the remaining alcohol and gathered around the two.  

They were in front of his subordinates. Kegan’s shoulders tensed.  

“I won’t go easy on you. After all, this was your idea.”  

Sion didn’t back down and cheekily replied,  

“Exactly what I wanted. Are you sure you’ll be okay, Senior Kegan? You might be humiliated in front of your men.”  

“Wahahaha!”  

“Look at that little squirt talking!”  

“This is going to be fun.”  

Sion’s provocation elicited an amused response. While everyone expected the boss to win, strangely, they started feeling the urge to bet on the outcome.  

Money quickly began changing hands.  

Kegan clicked his tongue in disdain at the ‘pathetic lot’, then drew his sword.  

Ssshhhk.  

“Draw your demon blade. There’s nothing better than sparring for taming a cursed blade.”  

“Thank you for your consideration.”  

Sion slightly bowed his head and picked up the demon blade placed beside him.  

Wooong.  

The evil aura sealed within the demon blade reacted. Though firmly suppressed by Sion’s sacred energy, it wasn’t entirely eradicated.  

This demonic energy would become the source of Sion’s power. He had to learn to use it well.  

Kegan casually rested his sword on his shoulder and began slowly circling around Sion.  

“This isn’t swordsmanship instruction. This is combat technique. Understand?”  

“Yes.”  

“I’ll only go hard enough not to injure you. I’ll play with you lightly.”  

“Please go easy on me.”  

***  

There was no signal to begin the sparring match.  

Fights were naturally like that. The moment Kegan’s eyes flashed coldly, it began.  

Kaa— Ang!  

Sion moved first.  

Appearing to charge straight ahead with beast-like steps, he suddenly shifted to attack Kegan’s flank.  

A black trail spat from the demon blade, slicing through the night air.  

“Wow! He’s fast!”  

One of the mercenaries burst out in admiration. Kegan calmly lowered his sword from his shoulder to block.  

Chaaang!  

A heavy sound rang out as sparks flew. In the first exchange, it was Kegan who was forced back. He retreated a few steps and reset his stance.  

‘This kid’s strength behind the blade is no joke.’  

It wasn’t just brute strength.  

It was the sensation of converting the power sealed within the demon blade through sacred energy, concentrating explosive force at the tip of the sword.  

This wasn’t something achievable through training.  

It was pure, innate talent.  

Genius.  

“Senior, is that all you’ve got?”  

Sion’s provocations continued.  

And his attacks didn’t stop. Like waves crashing ashore, he pressed forward, refusing to let go of the momentum he had seized.  

The sound of clashing blades continuously echoed through the campsite.  

Kakaang! Kakakaang!  

Hwoong!  

The mercenaries’ eyes widened.  

Their boss, the iron-willed Kegan, being one-sidedly pushed back was a rare sight indeed.  

“He’s actually pretty good, huh?”  

“He calls the boss ‘Senior’—where the hell is this kid from?”  

“Shh, focus.”  

Sion’s swordsmanship was dazzling and flawless. Free, powerful, and within its beauty, lethal intent flashed.  

‘This brat… he’s truly monstrous.’  

Kegan calmly faced reality.  

Indeed, in a pure swordsmanship duel, he had no chance. This kid was a monster.  

But he had never intended to teach swordsmanship in the first place.  

What he meant to pass on was combat technique.  

In this, he was confident he could teach better than Garfenn.  

Kaaang—!  

Kegan deliberately took Sion’s strike head-on and retreated. The moment his feet touched the soft soil, a faint smile appeared on Kegan’s lips.  

Right here.  

It was the moment Sion plunged deeply to deliver a finishing blow.  

Instead of blocking with his sword, Kegan lowered his body and let the attack slide over his shoulder. At the same time, his foot kicked the ground hard.  

Ssshhwah!  

A clump of soil mixed with dust and gravel flew straight into Sion’s face.  

“…!”  

Dirt?  

Even Sion couldn’t help but be flustered by such an unexpected attack.  

His vision was momentarily blocked, his breathing disrupted. For the first time, the perfect trajectory of his sword faltered.  

And that was the exact instant Kegan had been waiting for.  

“You’re falling for something this simple?”  

A low, deep voice rang in his ear.  

Before Sion could brush off the dirt, a heavy impact slammed into his abdomen. It wasn’t a sword—it was Kegan’s solid, well-trained shoulder.  

Thud!  

Sion’s body was pushed backward like a sheet of paper.  

As he staggered, losing his balance, Kegan’s foot flew toward his ankle.  

A dirty trick—trying to trip him.  

Sion instinctively twisted his body to evade, but the initiative had already completely shifted.  

“Combat methods aren’t limited to swords. Always be cautious of what’s beneath your feet.”  

Thwack!  

Kegan didn’t stop.  

He kicked the campfire, scattering burning embers toward Sion.  

This was a brutally efficient combat method honed solely for survival, something never seen in knightly swordsmanship.  

The mercenaries burst into cheers.  

“Krgh! That’s it! The boss’s underhanded fighting style!”  

“Kid, are you finally starting to understand what real fighting is?”  

“With that delicate, pampered skill, you’ve got no chance!”  

To their eyes, it wasn’t dishonorable. It was genuine combat, something only those who had rolled across battlefields for decades could display.  

The mercenaries treated the battlefield like their backyard. This fighting method, forged through countless brushes with death, might just be exactly what the War Cult needed most.  

“Huff.”  

Sion caught his breath. His face was covered in dirt, his clothes wrinkled, but his eyes sparkled brighter than ever.  

It wasn’t anger or embarrassment. It was the pure joy of a child discovering something new.  

Once, a ‘knight’ had kicked dirt to block his vision.  

He said this wasn’t swordsmanship, but combat technique.  

These were obvious, predictable tricks, yet Sion had never imagined anyone would actually use them.  

‘Fresh. Senior Kegan’s approach.’  

This wasn’t a noble duel of clashing blades.  

It was a desperate survival skill—using everything around you to win, striking at the opponent’s weak points.  

Sion readjusted his grip on the demon blade.  

His stance was different now.  

He lowered the tip of his sword slightly and focused his entire awareness not only on Kegan’s movements but on everything around him—the sound of the wind, the heat from the burning fire, the feel of the ground beneath his feet.  

“Now you’re starting to use your eyes properly.”  

Kegan muttered in satisfaction and charged again.  

This time too, his attacks weren’t straightforward.  

He feigned a sword swing while pulling out a dagger from his sleeve to throw, or pretended to fall to target the lower body—unpredictable attacks poured in.  

But this time, Sion didn’t fall for it. His concentration was at its peak. He was perceiving time in far finer increments than others.  

Sion predicted the dagger by noticing the minute movement of Kegan’s shoulder muscles and jumped over a low attack by detecting the change in footsteps.  

His genius-level senses were evolving in real time, absorbing information from experience.  

Finally, Kegan assumed a stance as if he were about to throw his sword.  

An obvious feint.  

Sion didn’t fall for it and braced for Kegan’s real target—the body charge.  

But Kegan’s true intention lay beyond that.  

It was one of the mercenaries behind Sion, the one who had been drinking.  

“Oof!”  

The pebble Kegan threw struck the drinking mercenary’s cup. Startled, the man staggered and tumbled into the space behind Sion.  

An event unfolding perfectly from Sion’s blind spot.  

At the instant Sion’s back collided with this new obstacle,  

Ssshhhk.  

Kegan’s cold blade touched Sion’s chin.  

“Ah.”  

Silence fell.  

The mercenaries held their breath. Sion didn’t move. The chilling sensation under his chin signaled defeat.  

Kegan withdrew his sword and said,  

“It’s misdirection.”  

“Oh.”  

“On the battlefield, even an ally’s scream can be a variable. Your kindness can become a weakness. Every uncontrollable situation becomes a dagger aimed at your neck. That’s why you can’t survive with swordsmanship alone.”  

Kegan extended his hand toward the dirt-covered Sion.  

“This is your first lesson, kid. Congratulations on entering the true art of fighting.”  

Sion grinned.  

Despite his defeat, he wasn’t upset. His expression showed he had gained something immensely valuable. He grabbed Kegan’s hand and stood up.  

“Really, that was dirty. Absolutely perfect.”  

Sion’s voice was sincere.

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