Ch.5 Apostle of the Goddess of War
Sion left his sword at the blacksmith’s before visiting a general store. With a businesslike expression, he began negotiating with the rchant.
“How much for this?”
“A well-maintained sword. Almost like new. How about 3 silver coins?”
Sion shook his head.
“It’s worth more than that, don’t you think?”
Naturally. Though it had been a cheap bandit’s sword, it had been fed with blood.
The goddess’s blessing had restored it, and now it carried divine energy – truly increased in value.
[Sion, you really…]
The goddess was secretly amazed by Sion’s business acun. Who would have thought an apostle would use her divine power for comrce!
“It’s made of good steel. The edge lasts long. Please look again.”
“How would a kid know good steel?”
Sion shrugged.
“I just know. I can tell quality by the swing and sound.”
The skeptical rchant tested Sion. His sharp eye quickly distinguished good blades from bad.
“Which of these is better quality?”
Sion examined each sword, testing their weight and sound.
“This one.”
“Huh.”
Sion had chosen correctly. The startled rchant stared at him.
This ordinary-looking boy had remarkable discernnt.
“I’ll buy both for 10 silver coins then.”
“Double that. I can tell you’re trying to cheat .”
Neither blindly trusting nor obedient to adults, Sion bargained stubbornly his own way.
“Where did this kid co from?”
The rchant clicked his tongue. Then asked:
“Where’d you get these items, boy?”
“…Found them.”
“Found them? On a battlefield?”
“There were dead bandits outside town.”
The rchant gave Sion a suspicious look, noticing the younger children hiding behind him.
‘Risking danger to feed his siblings?’
Tough tis made people desperate. Survival in this harsh world required sharp instincts.
“Tch. Fine, fine.”
Fortunately, Sion had t a kind rchant who gave fair prices.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t ntion it. How about working for ?”
“Huh?”
“You’ve got a good eye, quick wit, and silver tongue – born for business! I’ll make you rich!”
The goddess raged at this rchant coveting her apostle.
[How dare you!]
Though unable to hear her yet, Sion answered perfectly:
“Thank you, but I’m already apprenticed. Sorry.”
“I see. Understood.”
The rchant regretfully conceded.
[Everyone wants Sion’s talents… I must bestow blessings soon…]
While the goddess worried, Sion took his siblings to food stalls.
“Thanks for the al, brother!”
“You’re the best!”
“Eat up. Ruina, you too.”
“Mm. You too, brother.”
Their first proper al in ages – the four attacked the food like starving beasts.
“Brother Sion… Can we really trust him?”
Ruina, the second oldest, asked cautiously. She acted as guardian when Sion was away.
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“He saved our lives.”
Ruina chewed her bread thoughtfully.
She trusted Sion’s judgnt completely.
He’d never been wrong before.
She tore her bread in half.
“Have so more.”
***
Reunited with Garfenn, they were guided to the inner city. Overnight, forr slaves now toured noble estates.
‘War apostles receive more respect than I thought?’
The nervous siblings followed Sion, who remained unfazed by the opulence.
Garfern advised:
“No need to answer the lord’s questions. Just say you’re my apprentice.”
“Understood. Is he dangerous?”
Garfenn smirked.
“Good instincts.”
In the parlor, a statue of the Goddess of Wisdom hung above the fireplace where Baron Flandre waited.
“An honor to et you. Flandre von Estert.”
“Garfenn.”
“And these?”
Sion answered smoothly:
“I’m Garfenn’s squire and apprentice. These are my siblings learning to serve.”
He filled in details Garfenn hadn’t ntioned.
“Bright lad. I’d hire him myself, Garfenn.”
“Hmm.”
“Please sit. Tea is ready.”
The Baron snapped his fingers twice – a gesture to bring refreshnts for the children too.
Their conversation began. Sion listened carefully.
‘Nobles truly carry themselves differently.’
Even casual remarks lacked vulgarity. Sion noted the Baron’s diction and phrasing.
“If I may… why has War’s apostle co to my city?”
The Baron’s tone held suspicion. Garfenn answered bluntly:
“As I told your guards – just passing through. Restocking before we leave.”
The Baron remained skeptical.
“You’re not here to start trouble? If you intend bloodshed…”
His hostility was palpable. Even Sion found this cold reception strange.
‘They really fear us this much?’
The Goddess of War’s reputation was worse than he’d thought.
‘Mother never ntioned her either.’
Either unknown or deliberately avoided.
Sion resolved to learn more – to judge for himself beyond rumors.
“Nonsense. Goddess Achille is no warmonger.”
“…Her notoriety precedes her.”
“Misunderstandings. We’ll leave peacefully.”
“Hmm.”
When the Baron remained unconvinced, Garfenn’s tone hardened.
“Unless you’d prefer to make those rumors true?”
The Baron quickly summoned servants.
“Ha! Well then! While you’re here as guests, my servants will see to your comfort.”
Garfenn placed a hand over his heart in thanks.
As they were led to guest quarters, Sion noticed another visitor – a pale, well-grood nobleman exuding aristocratic grace.
Garfenn turned Sion away.
“Don’t stare so rudely.”
“Yes. Sorry.”
But Sion asked bluntly:
“Is that him?”
“Who?”
“The source of coming bloodshed?”
“…Your instincts are sharp.”
Sion’s gaze turned cold.
“Should I kill him?”
“Since when were you so bloodthirsty?”
“?”
Sion’s innocent denial didn’t fool Garfenn.
“…Just rember his face.”
“Understood.”
Sion’s determined look suggested he’d soon use his well-polished sword.
***
The siblings found noble hospitality awkward. Servants brought warm baths without discrimination.
‘They dislike us but still treat us well?’
Clearly, Garfenn’s status commanded respect.
Sion pondered what becoming an apostle truly ant.
The path ahead required careful consideration.
But seeing his siblings clean and well-fed made it worthwhile.
‘For them, I’ll beco an apostle.’
With Garfenn away on business, Sion grew restless.
‘Wasting ti feels wrong.’
Leaving the children with Ruina, he practiced sword forms in the garden.
Swing after swing, his movents flowed naturally despite his inexperience.
After intense training, applause interrupted him.
A noble girl approached gracefully.
“Impressive swordsmanship.”
Recognizing her status, Sion sheathed his sword and bowed.
“Oh, such manners too.”
“…I’m Sion.”
“Do you know who I am?”
After a pause, Sion answered:
“Baron Flandre’s daughter?”
She laughed behind her hand.
“Rebecca. Please be at ease – I rarely et peers and was curious.”
When Sion hesitated, she patted the bench beside her.
Reluctantly, Sion sat.
‘Why seek
out?’
He doubted this was re boredom.
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