Ch.144 Apostle of the Goddess of War
‘Just enjoy it for now?’
This wasn’t exactly an enjoyable situation—and one usually needed a certain maturity to enjoy hardship. Even Sion, who’d experienced more than most before turning twenty, found this overwhelming.
The Evil Gods—those terrifying beings—were wearing aprons and serving food?
Not dishes of human flesh, eyeball desserts, or brain broth.
Real, warm bread, milk, soup, and roasted at filled the table.
Poison?
He sensed none.
All traces of malice had been scrubbed clean.
This truly resembled a al prepared in an ordinary human household—perhaps even that of a modestly prosperous noble estate.
‘Seriously.’
How was he supposed to interpret this?
Sion’s thoughts tangled like overcooked spaghetti.
“Is it ready?”
A stunning woman with jet-black hair placed her hands on her waist and asked.
The other beauties replied in unison:
“Yep. All done. Ti to eat.”
“Right.”
“Cooking is tough.”
Their voices—lethal in harmony—carried unmistakable nobility. Listening to them felt like standing before royal blood.
Creak.
One by one, the Evil Gods took their seats.
Sion sat at the head of the aristocratic table, committing each of them to mory.
He had to gather as much intel as possible—this might be his only chance.
‘Though I might not even see the outside world again.’
Once seating finished, the last Evil God pulled out her chair.
She had the palest skin and darkest hair of them all.
Outwardly, she looked every bit a noble lady—save for her unearthly beauty, capable of toppling nations.
‘The Goddess of Darkness.’
Magoth sat directly opposite Sion, her face unreadable as she stared at him.
She licked lips as black as inked ash.
“My na is Magoth. Mistress of this manor—and the one who invited you.”
“I know. The Goddess of Darkness.”
Murmurs rippled among the Evil Gods at Sion’s answer.
‘Oh my, that one…’
‘He’s insane.’
‘Has no fear at all?’
Yet Sion didn’t flinch. He was terrified—but resolved not to show it.
Of course, beings like them could easily read his anxiety through his sweat, uneven breath, or racing pulse.
But presence mattered more.
What others saw was what counted.
“Evil God, yes. That’s precisely why I summoned you.”
“For what?”
Magoth lifted a glass. The rich aroma of grape wine filled the hall—not magic, but pure fruit. It lifted everyone’s mood.
“Drink first.”
“Why would I gulp it down blindly? For all I know, you’ve laced it with poison.”
“Evil Gods surround you in every direction. If I wished you dead, it’d be easier than flicking a finger.”
“…”
Undeniable. Sion hadn’t truly expected to act—just to avoid appearing weak.
‘Pushing too hard makes
look desperate. Enough.’
He softened his stance.
No point in aningless posturing—better to have a real conversation.
As Sion, too, raised his glass, Magoth smiled—a smile as dark as obsidian—and offered a toast:
“To the fall of the Heavens and the dawn of the Age of Man.”
Simple. Austere.
The Evil Gods smiled contentedly and drank. After watching them, Sion took a cautious sip.
Bitter.
‘Ugh.’
His grimace drew a question from soone:
“What’s wrong? Doesn’t it taste good?”
Judging by appearance and aura, the speaker was the Goddess of Decay.
“I’ve never liked alcohol.”
“Oh? How cute. You can’t hold your drink?”
It was said humans imitated the gods in drinking—alcohol being one of the goddesses’ blessings to humanity.
What was natural to them wasn’t always natural to mortals.
Magoth spoke gently:
“Eat freely. We prepared everything with care.”
“…”
“For your reference, every ingredient was grown by our own hands.”
Sion picked up his knife and fork and asked:
“Seriously—what are you all doing here?”
The al began.
The conversation belonged only to Magoth and Sion.
The clink of cutlery. The sip of soup.
The exchange of tableware played out like a painting—
As if such dialogue were utterly ordinary.
The Evil Gods focused entirely on eating, as though accustod to such scenes.
Magoth swept her straight hair behind her ear and replied:
“As you can see—we’re enjoying daily life.”
“Daily life?”
“Yes.”
A vein throbbed on Sion’s temple.
Maintaining reason would require imnse discipline.
He prayed his lifelong spiritual cultivation would help.
“Out there, people are dying. Your followers wage war and tornt humanity. What right do you have to mimic human dosticity?”
He spoke with anger.
Mago listened calmly before answering:
“How arrogant. Do you not know that humans copied our way of life?”
“What…?”
Mago stared at him, then sighed.
“You couldn’t possibly know the primordial truth. This conversation runs on parallel lines.”
Sion fell silent.
She was likely right.
The goddesses had bestowed all wisdom upon humanity—their customs, tools, even tables and wine. Human civilization was divine in origin.
Perhaps it was Sion’s perspective that was narrow.
“Long before Eru built the Heavens, we goddesses lived exactly like this.”
“Before the Heavens existed?”
“Yes. This land is older than the Heavens themselves.”
Sion’s mind went blank. This was information he hadn’t anticipated.
“Likely, only Eru and I know this. In the beginning, only the two of us existed—and we dwelled upon this earth.”
Sion smiled awkwardly.
The word ‘primordial’ felt alien—like hearing myths from childhood, except the teller sat across from him.
‘Is this really not a dream?’
Even Lady Achille might not know this. It was genuinely shocking.
“Eru and I lived this way, and later settled on this continent—the world you now call human—carving out civilization ourselves.”
“…Thank you for correcting my misunderstanding. My apologies.”
Magoth gave a faint smile.
Only then did she lift her utensils and slice a piece of at.
“Try this. Food grown on primordial soil. You’ve never tasted anything like it.”
“I’ll eat gratefully.”
Sion followed Magoth’s words and began eating. His eyes widened at the soup, gasped at the bread, and lted into rapture at the steak.
True, the al Apur served him in Foils once held his personal record for finest cuisine—but this surpassed it by far, leaving a lingering afterglow.
It felt as if flowers blood inside his head.
‘How can food taste this good?’
Sion couldn’t hide his astonishnt.
At that mont, every Evil God stopped eating and watched only Sion’s reaction.
All eyes fixed on his mouth—hungry for his response.
Uncomfortable under their gaze, Sion dabbed his lips with a napkin and said:
“Honestly, this is the best I’ve ever eaten. Nothing compares.”
“Right?! Told you!”
The Goddess of Decay bead and blurted out—food spraying from her mouth. The instant it left her lips, it decayed so thoroughly it vanished before hitting the table.
Magoth scolded her:
“Marnaki. Don’t shout with your mouth full—especially with a guest present.”
“Hehe, so what? They’re just humans anyway.”
Her thoughts were as unrestrained as her mouth.
This clashed wildly with Sion’s image of her.
‘That monstrous presence from before… was this woman—the Goddess of Decay?’
Her aura had once rotted flesh to the bone—yet now she was an ill-mannered glutton at the dinner table.
Sion’s worldview shifted in real ti.
He still felt as though in a dream.
His mind remained in chaos.
And the Goddess of Decay wasn’t alone.
Every Evil God seated here had inflicted horrific curses and massacres upon humanity—yet their true forms were oddly… human. Sloppy, even.
‘Are they deliberately showing this side to evoke sympathy?’
Though unexpected, Sion wouldn’t let his resolve waver. Magoth likely didn’t intend re manipulation.
Still, her true motives remained shadowed.
The al continued.
Beyond small, idle chatter, Magoth asked Sion nothing of consequence.
It was as if he were rely a passing visitor.
Magoth held all control.
Yet even she seed more focused on eating than scheming.
Sion decided to prioritize nourishnt—food ant energy, and energy ant readiness for battle.
…And indeed, they ate the entire ti.
The food was delicious—undeniably so.
After the al, Magoth rose and approached Sion.
“Walk with . Do you enjoy strolls?”
“It depends on who I’m walking with.”
“Co.”
***
Magoth led Sion outside the manor.
A ticulously tended garden ca into view—evidently crafted with great care.
“This is truly unexpected. I never imagined Evil Gods would enjoy such things.”
“As I’ve said before—humans learned your customs from us.”
“Yes, but that’s not what I ant.”
“Then?”
Magoth tilted her head slightly, genuinely curious—her eyes wide as she stared at Sion.
“You’re Evil Gods. You slaughter humans, yet secretly enjoy hobbies like gardening? It feels… strange.”
Magoth gave an enigmatic smile and kept walking through the maze-like garden, where floral scents hung thick in the air.
Then, suddenly, she stopped by a small fountain and turned to face Sion.
Her chilling gaze pierced his chest.
“You’re arrogant.”
The Goddess of Darkness spoke.
“Think, Apostle of War. War is commonplace even among mortals. You, of all people, should understand: enemies’ kings and knights may seem like demons—but what are they truly?”
Sion froze.
He saw her point.
From the other side, the Evil Gods’ behavior made perfect sense.
“To their own, they’re ordinary people—noble rulers, even.”
Magoth nodded sharply.
“You see
only as your enemy—as a demon, a monstrous Evil God who shouldn’t enjoy food or flowers.”
“…”
“But I’m no different from the Goddess you serve. Only our convictions diverge.”
She was absolutely right.
To Sion, Magoth was absolute evil—yet from another angle, she was rely another Goddess.
Their enmity existed only because Eru, the Goddess of Light, walked the opposite path.
To her own, Magoth was surely warm—perhaps even motherly.
‘Co to think of it… I’ve slaughtered fanatics myself.’
The line between good and evil blurred.
Sion’s wariness visibly faded.
This conversation had beco a rare chance to understand his enemy’s perspective—and he was moved.
Then, a chill ran through him.
‘Is this erosion of hatred itself a form of corruption?’
If so, it was a terrifyingly subtle thod.
Snapping back to clarity, Sion sharpened his ntal blade.
‘She’s still the enemy. Learn from her words—but never fall for false temptation.’
Reinforcing his resolve, he asked coldly:
“So.”
“What is your true purpose in bringing
here? It’s ti to speak plainly.”
Magoth’s faint smile returned as she whispered:
“A plea for surrender. Humanity’s final rcy.”
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