Ch.148Apostle of the Goddess of War
Arwen paced nervously before Elim’s eastern outpost, rubbing her hands together for no reason.
She was reuniting with War Cult disciples—those who’d parted ways with Sion back in the Holy Kingdom.
Their gazes weren’t kind.
‘Do they hate
because they rember I attacked them before?’
Of course, that was only her own anxiety and misunderstanding—but still…
In truth, the conflict and misunderstandings with the Wisdom Cult had long since ended.
Lady Achille had spearheaded reconciliation, and Kaili had publicly affird it. The Wisdom Cult and War Cult were now in a de facto alliance.
Their previous clash had concluded without any injuries, so no ill will remained.
Even minor grievances had been neatly settled with appropriate compensation—there was truly no lingering resentnt.
Yet knowing all this, Arwen still muttered to herself in fear:
“Huuu… uuuugh… Is soone like
even allowed to be summoned here? Soone else should’ve co instead… sob.”
Arwen had co to Elim solely because of nesia’s oracle.
Right after sensing the Deep Sea entity and receiving Achille’s summons, nesia had ordered Arwen to travel to Elim.
The ti had co for the Apostle of Wisdom to act in earnest.
Arwen’s role would likely be to assist the Apostle of War.
Even before eting Sion again, her eyes were already moist. Nearby War Knights sighed and gestured with their chins:
“Sir Sion is coming.”
“Huh? Y-yes…!”
Arwen fidgeted, wringing her fingers and blushing.
They’d grown sowhat close—but was it right for her to act overly familiar?
She hadn’t brought the Libra Knight Brigade this ti, so she lacked her usual confidence. She felt as exposed as if thrown naked into the world.
…Of course, this anxiety existed only in her mind.
“Lady Arwen! Long ti no see!”
Sion rushed over, greeting her warmly.
Arwen’s ears perked up.
‘His voice sounds… brighter?’
Sion strode toward her with clear delight.
Arwen froze for an instant—then felt heat flood all the way to her ear tips.
“M- too… I-I an, l-long ti no see, L-Lord S-Sion!”
Inside, her mind scread:
‘Sh-should I call him ‘Lord’ or just ‘Sion’? Should I act friendly or formal? Did we actually get closer…?’
Her head spun with chaotic thoughts. Clenching her fists, she gave the most dignified nod she could muster.
This was her chance to show she, too, was an Apostle of a cult allied with his—a mont of dignity!
“H-have you been well? I-I’ve been… um, okay… no, actually, pretty good…!”
She didn’t even realize her words tumbled out in a rush. Her voice rose higher, eyes sparkling with nervous excitent.
At last—at last—a chance to leave a real impression on Sion!
But—
“Glad you’re well! Oh, but sorry, Arwen—I’m in a hurry right now!”
Sion lightly raised a palm in a brief “hold on” gesture.
His expression remained warm, yet he swept past like a determined wind.
“Just wait a mont, please. I’ll be right back.”
“…Huh? Y-yes?!”
Sion turned to a War Knight:
“Please escort her to the guest chamber.”
“Understood, Apostle.”
Arwen’s lips trembled.
Eyes wide, she couldn’t utter a word—only watched Sion’s back recede in quick strides.
“Ah! No, wait! I also have sothing to say… an important matter…!”
Her voice dissolved into empty air, drowned out by his departing footsteps.
For a mont, Arwen’s mind went utterly blank. She let her arms hang limply and muttered weakly:
“Eh…? Eeeeeeeh…?!”
Her dream of a glowing reunion had burst like a soap bubble.
Her carefully rehearsed plan to act ‘friendly’ exploded mid-air.
All that remained were the awkward stares of nearby War Knights.
“…She’s gonna cry again.”
“Her eyes are already glistening.”
Sure enough, Arwen trembled, rubbing her eyes fiercely with both hands.
“W-where’s… the g-guest chamber…?”
She wanted nothing more than to vanish into a mousehole.
***
Church of War Sanctum, Elim
As blue light seeped onto the massive circular altar, the sacred hall fell into profound silence.
Sion knelt. The cold stone beneath his fingertips felt heavier than usual today.
He closed his eyes, steadied his breath, placed his sword before him, and bowed low.
“The Sword of the Goddess of War rests here.”
At that mont, holy radiance pierced the ceiling, flooding the center of the altar.
A voice of majestic resonance pierced his ears like a gong:
[Rise, my Apostle.]
The presence of Achille, Goddess of War—forged from steel, dense and unyielding—filled the hall.
Sion lifted his head to behold her luminous form. She looked worn—no doubt from the recent battle.
Yet to Sion, the Goddess of War was most glorious and beautiful right after combat. Enchanted, he praised her:
“Thank you, my Lady—for braving danger to save …”
His chest tightened with emotion.
Achille summoned her throne, sat, and shook her head.
[No, my child. It was my failure to protect you—to let you face such peril. I am truly sorry.]
She removed her ornate yet austere helt. Sweat-damp strands clung to her cheeks—even this was sacred.
Now, for the first ti, the title ‘Goddess of War’ truly resonated.
‘A Goddess who sweats… so cool.’
Sion lowered his head further.
“It was my fault too.”
[Do not say that. None of this was your doing.]
Sion fell silent. To argue further would be disrespectful.
“Is the Evil God of Darkness… safe for now?”
[For now, yes. We overturned their stronghold. They’ll struggle to act for a while—recovering will take ti. They never expected our assault, so their losses were severe.]
‘Though it won’t work a second ti,’ Achille added inwardly, grimacing as if suppressing pain.
“…”
Sion bit his lip.
So they’d inflicted heavy casualties despite her injuries.
No wonder they called her the Goddess of War.
Just as Sion exhaled in relief—
[Still… you endured well. Surviving in Mago’s lair is no small feat.]
A fragrant floral scent suddenly filled the sanctum.
Petals swirled like phantoms—and Goddess Emily of Wildflowers appeared.
“Lady Emily…!”
Her voice was like a mother’s embrace. Sion instinctively bowed his head.
[Sion’s courage led us all. You may well be proud.]
Emily’s warm praise seeped into Sion’s parched heart like gentle rain.
Then—a sharp, icy resonance cut through the air like transparent glass:
[Still, it was far too reckless. Extracting Loenhaugter was wise, but you should’ve inford us imdiately to craft a safer plan.]
The third light—Goddess nesia of Wisdom.
Even she had descended upon Elim. What day was this?
Sion felt a chill crawl down his spine.
eting Goddesses in the mortal realm—outside Mago’s domain—felt profoundly different.
In Mago’s world, even Goddesses felt strangely near. Here, they were utterly transcendent—untouchable.
An impassable wall seed to separate them.
“I apologize. I acted foolishly.”
At Sion’s apology, nesia softened instantly into a smile.
[It was risky—but a worthy attempt. Your courage and wisdom were both excellent. And everyone is safe, so all is well.]
“…Thank you.”
Sion, overwheld, could only bow deeply.
To receive praise from three Goddesses at once—this was more than familial honor; it was a blessing to his very soul.
Emily’s silver eyes pierced through him.
[Yet… I sense a faint, sour malice beyond my barrier. And no trace of Loenhaugter. What has happened, Sion?]
Her voice was like dew-kissed grass.
Sion lifted his head, as if expecting this.
“That’s exactly what I ca to report.”
Achille gave a subtle nod.
[Speak, my Apostle.]
Fresh from battle, her charisma was overwhelming—radiating the full dignity of a War Sovereign.
Her divine pressure alone commanded awe. Even Emily and nesia instinctively stood to her sides like loyal retainers.
Sion, as her Apostle, felt reverence beyond words.
“First, my apologies. The situation was urgent—I acted on my judgnt and will now report.”
[I trust my Apostle’s judgnt completely. There must have been a good reason. Speak freely.]
The Goddess of War’s magnanimity put Sion at ease. He began:
“The sour malice beyond Lady Emily’s barrier belongs to the Evil God of Corruption.”
[What?]
[Hmph…]
Achille listened silently. Emily and nesia visibly startled.
[Tartania? That wretched being—why is she here?]
nesia was the most openly hostile. (Not that she held affection for any other Goddess.)
[Sion, explain carefully. Tartania’s power is antithetical to my barriers—it’s dangerous. There must be a reason?]
Sion nodded reassuringly at Emily.
[The Evil God of Corruption expressed her intent to defect—to surrender to the Goddess of War.]
[What?!]
Achille’s jaw dropped. The other Goddesses were speechless.
It was that shocking.
“She cautiously requested dialogue—and protected Set and Jien during it. And yes… I escaped safely only because she helped .”
Achille exchanged glances with the other two. Even Goddesses with eons of experience seed flustered—this was unprecedented.
“Sir Loenhaugter is also stored within Tartania’s intestines—a kind of safeguard, I suppose.”
[She’s taken him hostage?]
“Yes.”
Sion quickly added, before misunderstanding deepened:
“But I believe she’s trustworthy. Truly.”
Despite his words, distrust swelled among the three Goddesses—spreading like wildfire across dry plains.
Achille’s expression darkened. nesia closed her eyes, muttering under her breath.
Only Emily continued speaking with Sion:
[Sion… she’s still an Evil God. She could be using you to infiltrate Elim.]
“Mago said sothing similar—offering a peace pact, asking to be treated as an equal Goddess and to rule humanity together.”
[We’ll consider Mago’s words as if we never heard them.]
Even Emily gave up.
The chasm between Goddesses and Evil Gods seed unbridgeable.
‘What should I do?’
Sion could be wrong.
Of course—he couldn’t possibly understand enemies who’d waged war across countless ages better than the Goddesses themselves.
‘But I must get them to the negotiating table.’
A clear chance to end this war was needed.
Sion believed now was the mont.
A strategy to collapse the Evil Gods from within.
THUD!
Sion slamd his forehead hard against the floor.
“I beg you—on my life!”
THUD!
Again.
“Please—show rcy! Just speak with her! This could be the very spark that ends this war!”
The three Goddesses locked eyes once more.
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