Apostle of the Goddess of War

Chapter 80

Ch.80 Apostle of the Goddess of War

A brief, suffocating standoff continued.  

Followers of the demon.  

Among them, disciples of Decay who believed in and worshipped decay and circulation.  

Humans who followed demons—beings that desired and enacted humanity’s corruption and destruction—rather than the benevolent Goddesses of the Table.  

Now, those who sought to protect humanity had met such people.  

It would have been far more natural for slaughter to break out immediately.  

The War Knights, inwardly calling upon Goddess Achille, focused their minds on the battle about to begin.  

“…Aren’t they attacking?”  

But the disciples of Decay did not attack.  

If anything, they seemed closer to welcoming them.  

Sion spoke calmly.  

“The Apostle invited us, didn’t he? He won’t attack me right away.”  

“S-still.”  

“It’s fine. Let’s go.”  

Sion advanced indifferently.  

Kegan and the other War Knights struggled to lift their feet forward.  

“How does that kid have such a bold heart?”  

“Does he have multiple lives?”  

“That’s probably why he’s called the successor to the Apostle.”  

When the knight unit led by Sion and Kegan approached right up to the entrance, the disciples of Decay bowed in unison.  

Then, like the parting of the Red Sea, they stepped aside to both sides, opening a path.  

The faces revealed beneath their robes were all expressionless.  

Their empty eyes were hollow, like living corpses. As they opened the path, they whispered in low, incomprehensible voices.  

“Our Apostle awaits you…….”  

It was, in its own way, a greeting of welcome.  

A statement devoid of emotion or intonation.  

As if someone were manipulating them, merely blowing air through their vocal cords.  

Their appearance was too grotesque.  

Sion silently stared at the path they had opened—the entrance to a cave shrouded in darkness.  

“It’s dangerous. It’s a trap.”  

Kegan gritted his teeth and whispered.  

“They plan to close the entrance behind us and isolate us.”  

“I know.”  

Sion answered calmly. There was no way it wasn’t a trap.  

Men who worshipped demons wouldn’t fight with ‘fairness’ or ‘honor’.  

To march into battle knowing this required immense courage and a strong heart capable of overcoming overwhelming pressure.  

Sion had that strength.  

And he had also gained steadfast comrades—the War Knights. Though they were people he needed to protect, the War Knights were strong.  

They would at least be able to defend themselves under normal circumstances.  

Moreover, their strength would be necessary for the dark future ahead. They needed to overcome these trials together, growing in skill, courage, and faith.  

‘They need the experience of winning by believing in Goddess Achille, even in the most difficult and hopeless situations.’  

Sion had calculated everything from the beginning.  

That was why he brought them here.  

To make them experience miracles.  

To help them grow stronger.  

It was an ambitious plan to transform these newly recruited fighters into true War Knights.  

“Senior Kegan.”  

“I’m listening.”  

“Doesn’t anything come to mind?”  

Kegan closed his eyes slightly.  

He realized Sion had deliberately led him here.  

He didn’t think Sion had bad intentions, only that there must be some reason.  

And he also understood this might be his chance to finally cast off the nightmares and guilt that had tormented him for so long.  

“Not yet. Nothing comes to mind.”  

Sion gave a slight nod.  

‘So I really do have to kill the Apostle of Decay.’  

This wasn’t just about confronting the Apostle of Decay.  

His true purpose in coming to Kashibelli Rock was to restore Kegan’s memories.  

Both goals converged at a single point. He couldn’t predict what would happen, but all he could do was swing his sword.  

‘If the Goddess led me here, there must be a reason.’  

Sion had now developed an unshakable faith.  

Where she says to go, he goes. Where she says to cut, he cuts.  

Unwavering belief, conviction, and cold logic had shaped the Sion of today.  

[Excellent, Sion.]  

The Goddess of War sat on her throne, resting her chin on her hand.  

The sight of her new Apostle nearing completion filled her with satisfaction.  

“Let’s go.”  

Click.  

Sion began stepping onto the stone staircase. There was no hesitation in his stride.  

He was the very image of a proud, fearless paladin.  

Even as he was swallowed by darkness, he shone with his own light.  

***  

Once they entered the cave, they were completely cut off from the outside world.  

Damp, cold air seeped deep into their lungs, and the occasional drip of water was the only sound intermittently breaking the silence.  

The path led gently downward in a gradual descent.  

Instead of moss, faintly glowing fungi grew on the walls, forming eerie patterns—this was the only source of light.  

“Damn… the air is different.”  

Jena muttered a curse under her breath.  

The Goddess’s protection blocked the poison, but it couldn’t shield them from the alien pressure that made their life force feel suffocated.  

The deeper they went, the less it felt like a natural cave.  

Rather, it resembled an elaborately constructed temple dedicated to worshipping the demon of Decay.  

Sion and the War Knights advanced warily through the darkness.  

With each step, their hearts seemed to beat in time with their footsteps—thud, thud.  

It was like an elite unit infiltrating the enemy’s core.  

A mission with only one chance—failure meant certain death. The weight of it pressed down on the shoulders of the twenty or so warriors.  

It would be a lie to say they felt no fear.  

Their palms grew damp with sweat, and the sound of swallowing dryly echoed unusually loud.  

Yet no one stepped back.  

They walked behind the knight, beloved by the Goddess of War.  

In their eyes burned not fear, but a greater resolve—a new mission.  

How long had they walked? The descent finally ended.  

Before them lay a vast cavern brimming with demonic energy.  

“……!”  

Everyone present froze, breath caught in their throats.  

It was as if they stood inside the innards of a giant monster.  

Instead of stalactites, massive chunks of fleshy tissue hung from the ceiling, oozing sticky fluids like sores.  

The floor was a muddy swamp filled with writhing, pulsating things resembling blood vessels.  

At the center of the cavern stood a horrifying throne, haphazardly constructed from dozens of human corpses.  

And seated upon that throne was the Apostle of Decay.  

“You’ve come. Come in.”  

The Apostle gestured with his hand.  

Disciples of Decay, cloaked in dark green robes, guided Sion and the knights forward.  

It felt like approaching an evil lord.  

Sion walked without fear.  

‘Such overwhelming pressure.’  

As he drew closer to the Apostle, Sion reflected.  

The Apostle of Decay.  

True to form, he was strong, as an Apostle of a demon should be.  

His presence far surpassed that of ordinary monsters, magicians, or even demonkind.  

He was clearly a lifeform of a higher tier.  

Though he wore a human form, he seemed more monstrous than anything else.  

The skin on his right cheek turned black, melting away to reveal white bone beneath.  

But only for a moment—new flesh crawled up over the bone, instantly restoring his original appearance.  

The muscles on his left forearm rotted and sagged limply, only to be replaced by fresh muscle fibers that surged up, hardening his arm once more.  

The cycle of decay, regeneration, and decay again repeated ceaselessly across his entire body.  

Decay and circulation.  

Birth and death.  

‘Now I understand what the Evil God of Decay desires.’  

He was proving the terrifying yet sublime laws of nature with his own flesh.  

The Apostle spoke.  

“Successor of the War Apostle. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Fedebrenis, Apostle of the Evil God of Decay.”  

His voice was a dissonant chorus of dozens of overlapping tones—the result of decaying vocal cords and newly growing ones vibrating simultaneously.  

Fedebrenis slowly rose from his throne.  

Swish, swish.  

As he stepped forward, rotting arms burst from the swamp floor, forming steps for him.  

“I thank you for accepting my invitation, knight of the Goddess of War. And you, ghosts of the Black Banner.”  

His gaze fell upon Kegan and the mercenaries. A faint, bitter smile revealed blatant mockery and contempt.  

Among them, the Apostle of Decay stared directly at Kegan.  

“Your scent is familiar. It resembles the ghosts who have become part of my flesh.”  

The meaning was instantly clear.  

He had consumed the corpses of Kegan’s former comrades buried in this land and made them part of his body.  

Kiiing!  

“You bastard!”  

Kegan immediately drew his sword and lunged forward.  

It was an insult too great to control his rage.  

Slash!  

Kegan’s blade severed Fedebrenis’s neck. It happened in an instant.  

Jena and the other knights flinched in shock.  

But only for a moment.  

Creak.  

Creak.  

Flesh regrew from the severed neck. Bone and muscle reformed, eyes filled in, and half-rotten skin covered it once more.  

“You—!”  

Kegan roared in fury.  

“Did I wear a familiar face again?”  

“How can you do such a monstrous thing!”  

“Don’t make me laugh. I didn’t go through all this just to insult someone like you. You merely witnessed a part of the natural process of decay and circulation.”  

“Shut up, you bastard……!”  

Kegan growled, but the Apostle ignored him.  

Cutting him with a sword was useless.  

As expected, he was not an opponent to be killed easily.  

Sion raised his hand to stop Kegan.  

“Senior Kegan. Please calm down for now.”  

“……Grr. Sorry.”  

The Apostle’s gaze returned to Sion. On his face, endlessly decaying and regenerating, a sinister smile appeared.  

“What do you think of my courtyard? In this sanctuary, where the power of Decay is strongest, everything rots and becomes part of me, only to be reborn again in a cycle. This is the law of nature, the one and only law of the universe.”  

He spread his arms wide, like an artist proud of his masterpiece.  

“Soon, even gold—the symbol of immortality and purity—will decay.”  

Fedebrenis smiled at Sion.  

It was a taunting smile.  

His skin continued to decay and regenerate.  

“Here, you will become part of me. Even you, the transcendent human chosen by the Goddess of War, will decay and circulate. Unite with me and give me your strength—the strength that even our Goddesses fear!”  

It was a boastful declaration, as if reciting an inescapable law of nature.  

His very existence proclaimed the truth that everything ultimately rots. Even the War Knights were crushed under his oppressive aura, struggling to breathe.  

An instinctive fear whispered they could not win, crawling up from the tips of their toes.  

But Sion was different.  

Amid the storm of crushing pressure, he remained as calm as a tranquil pond.  

His eyes stared straight at the Apostle of Decay, not wavering in the slightest.  

“Noisy.”  

Sion spoke softly. With that single word, all the surrounding noise and pressure seemed to freeze for a moment.  

“You demon worshippers talk too much. The more certain you are of overpowering me, the more you chatter.”  

“Oh? Confident, aren’t you? As expected of a War Knight.”  

One of the Apostle’s eyebrows melted and reformed, expressing amusement.  

“Aren’t you afraid? Of death? Of your entire existence rotting into mere fertilizer—a natural process?”  

Sion laughed as if he’d heard something ridiculous.  

“People die. They age naturally and die, then decay. And they circulate.”  

“You understand my Evil God well. A rare talent.”  

“But your demon’s power isn’t natural. You force decay onto things that are perfectly fine. Why rot gold?”  

The Apostle of Decay’s ever-present smile faded slightly.  

“Because it occupies space without value. What worth is there in a shiny rock?”  

“To decide that is your arrogance. It’s not the truth.”  

“You. Watch your words.”  

Sion smirked.  

“The one who should watch his words is you. Letting me come this far so smoothly was a grave mistake.”  

“Hmph. Is that so?”  

He pointed a finger at the people behind Sion.  

“You came here to kill me, carrying your weaknesses?”  

Sion shook his head.  

“The people behind me are not weak. They are War Knights who came with me to kill you.”  

“……Your confidence reaches the heavens.”  

Sion’s voice dropped lower.  

He sharpened his senses before battle, circulating the holy ring within him.  

Sion pronounced his judgment.  

“I have come to deliver the Goddess of War’s hammer. Apostle of Decay. Be prepared.”  

Swishhh.  

At last, Sion drew the Yogeo.  

A chilling killing intent began slicing through the poisonous aura of decay.

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