Chapter 76

Ch.76 Apostle of the Goddess of War

“Commander. The situation is already over, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“What?”

Kegan’s eyes widened in shock.

Already over?

A chill ran down his spine.

He had rushed here as fast as possible—had even that effort been too late?

“No, I mean, we didn’t even have to fight.”

One of the unit members explained, scratching his cheek. It seemed that the young boy named Sion had taken care of everything.

“Are you sure you saw this correctly?”

“Yes!”

“But still, these are fanatics of Decay. There’s no way this could’ve been settled so quickly?”

“I thought the same at first, but no—it really happened.”

The unit member protested with a slightly indignant tone, insisting he had seen it with his own eyes. As if he’d lie about something like this.

Kegan and the unit members quickly entered the village. Everywhere they looked, traces of decay and battle remained.

The scene left behind was horrifying. The stench of decay made even breathing difficult.

“This village has become like this…”

This village was quite close to the Black Banner Unit’s main base, so there had been frequent visits.

When followers of Decay had established their nest nearby, the unit had urged the villagers to evacuate immediately. But the villagers had refused.

They had stubbornly insisted on defending the village they had built over a lifetime.

“How tragic.”

“We should’ve forced them to relocate after all.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered. To them, this village was more precious than their lives.”

Kegan gently closed the eyes of the village chief’s decayed and rotting corpse, then went to look for Sion.

Sion was standing in front of a pool of decay, offering a prayer of purification. The sight of corpses piled up like hills was too gruesome to bear.

“This kid has a strong stomach.”

One of the unit members muttered. Kegan beside him shook his head in disagreement.

“That’s not it.”

“Huh?”

“It means he’s already familiar with such a sight at his young age.”

“Hmm…”

“He must have passed through a horrifying hell to remain so calm in front of such a scene.”

The unit member who had been chattering beside him scratched his head. Now that he thought about it, it makes sense. The boy’s swordsmanship alone was far from ordinary.

Clearly, this boy’s life had not been a normal one.

Kegan sighed quietly, inaudibly, then gave his orders.

“Search for any survivors and have the unit regroup. Staying too long in this much demonic energy is dangerous—we’re leaving soon.”

“Yes!”

Kegan approached Sion. Respecting the etiquette of a Knight, he refrained from interrupting until the prayer was finished.

He silently watched as the demonic energy of decay was purified under the authority of the Goddess of War. A lump rose in his chest.

Was it envy? Or guilt?

“Oh, Senior Kegan…”

Sion finished his prayer and stood up, immediately bowing deeply upon seeing Kegan. He seemed much more composed than before.

“Good work. Thanks to you, we eliminated them without any casualties.”

Kegan expressed his gratitude.

Sion, as if it were nothing special, immediately shifted to another topic.

“So many people died.”

“Hmm.”

Kegan let out a low groan as well.

The death of the innocent was always heartbreaking.

And each time, he blamed himself for his own helplessness.

“Why do they have to die like this? What crime have they committed?”

“I wish I knew too. It would be nice if someone could give us the answer.”

“I know.”

The boy declared it firmly.

Such a statement sparked curiosity.

Kegan asked him—what was it?

“We need to end war. Eliminate every single evil bastard who starts wars…”

There are many ways to protect the weak.

Providing them safety within a fortress, giving them weapons, protecting them with an army, and so on.

But the most fundamental solution was still—to eliminate the root cause.

War was a process in which the strong exploited the weak and seized their lives.

All the violence and moral corruption occurring during this process were justified by the logic of the strong.

“We just need to become the strongest. Strong enough that no one dares to challenge us.”

“So that’s your conclusion?”

“It’s also the belief of Goddess Achille. I agree with her. The more I learn, the more it makes sense.”

It was a familiar argument.

You can’t protect everyone.

As long as evil exists in the world, victims will always appear.

That’s why overwhelming power is needed.

An absolute force that can enforce equality.

“The War Cult must rise again.”

“That’s arrogance. Even the Light Cult hasn’t been able to maintain control.”

“The Light Cult does nothing. They just rule for appearances’ sake.”

“That’s a dangerous statement, boy.”

Sion gripped the cursed sword tightly—so tightly it seemed he might snap the hilt.

The boy’s anger transformed into desperate determination.

“Lend me your strength, Senior.”

“What can I possibly do alone?”

“We need to combine our strength. Please take charge of the War Knights. Guide us so we can become a powerful Cult.”

“…I can’t. I’m not the one.”

Sion didn’t waver, even at the sound of the old mercenary’s defeated voice.

Instead, he believed firmly that Kegan would change his mind, and continued to persuade him.

“We can do it. Both you and I. I believe in the Goddess.”

“…Haa.”

“Will you run away again after seeing this? While people keep dying?”

“What do you mean, run away? I’ve been trying this hard—”

“Just pretending. You’re turning away from the truth. It’s nothing more than self-harm to make yourself feel better. ‘I tried to save people. That’s enough. That’s enough.’ You keep telling yourself that to feel at peace.”

He had struck right at the core.

Kegan bit the inside of his mouth.

It didn’t feel good at all having his inner thoughts exposed by a junior.

“This brat…”

Kegan hesitated whether to get angry or not.

He desperately wanted to explode in rage.

But Sion’s sharp words had pierced his heart too painfully.

Someone had reached out their hand.

Telling him to start again, that they could succeed.

This might be the only chance he’d ever get for the rest of his life.

If he turned his back on Goddess Achille once more, what right would he have to hope?

Kegan recalled his former comrades.

‘I have to see them again.’

He couldn’t run forever.

He had to face them head-on and atone.

The way to atone was to confront them directly.

‘I must face the sins I’ve committed and pay for them.’

Kegan swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth.

It was incredibly difficult to utter even a single word.

“W-what do you want me to do?”

Sion gazed at the horizon. A jagged rocky ridge hung against the sunset-stained sky.

“Come with me to Kashibelli Rock.”

“So I just need to kill the Apostle of Decay?”

“Yes. The Goddess told me to go there.”

Kegan lifted his head as well.

The crimson twilight shimmered like waves of mirage.

He had reached the twilight of his life.

At the very least, he wanted to face the night sky, where the stars rose, with an honest heart.

‘Before it’s too late. Before it’s irreversible.’

To atone to his comrades.

To seek forgiveness from the Goddess.

He wanted to give it a try with this junior named Sion.

Even if it was an impossible dream.

Living a life without regrets—this was Kegan’s wish.

Desperate longing begins with a small courage.

The knight of twilight solidified his decision.

He gathered his courage and accepted his junior’s offer.

“Alright. Let’s go. Once we get there, something will surely come of it.”

“Yes. Once we go, you’ll surely feel something.”

Sion left those meaningful words behind and moved to another spot.

His steps showed no hesitation.

He could have said more to his frustrating senior.

But instead, Sion resumed his prayer of purification.

Silently, fulfilling every duty of a knight.

***

“Are you getting used to it yet?”

They were nearing the main base of the Black Banner Unit.

Along the way, they had passed through three more villages.

The others were abandoned, so there were no casualties.

However, since these places had once been touched by the Goddess’s blessing, they had not escaped the curse of decay.

The delayed conclusion was that the followers of Decay had aimed to completely erase every trace of the Goddess in this region.

They had gradually expanded their territory until they met Sion—and were wiped out.

Sion visited every village without exception, purifying the curse of decay, again and again.

He absorbed the sinister energy into the cursed sword, then melted it with holy energy and made it his own.

By now, the demonic energy within Sion’s new prize was almost entirely gone.

There was still a trace of evil aura, but that was simply the nature of a blood-drinking blade, not a remnant of the demon.

“Yes. It feels completely natural now. It’s like part of my arm.”

Whoosh!

Sion lightly swung the cursed sword. Unlike before, it didn’t wildly lash out. Instead, it smoothly cut through the air, obedient to his will.

Kegan looked back and forth between Sion and the sword, then stroked his chin and spoke.

“Then from now on, we should call it a ‘Demon Sword’.”

“What’s the difference between that and an ‘Evil Sword’?”

At Sion’s question, Kegan chuckled.

That laughter carried not just a simple explanation of knowledge, but a warning born from experience.

“There’s a big difference. An Evil sword is a wild beast that doesn’t choose its master—it rampages regardless, driven only by demonic energy, craving destruction. But what you hold is different.”

Kegan pointed at Sion’s sword with his finger.

“A Demon Sword is a predator that chooses its master. Now, instead of demonic energy, it feeds on your will. It grows stronger by consuming your pain, your anger, your desires. The more it feeds, the stronger and more sinister it becomes.”

Kegan added,

“And in turn, it will unleash tremendous power. The stronger your negative emotions, the more powerful the Demon Sword becomes.”

Vvvvv—

As soon as Kegan finished speaking, the sword in Sion’s hand responded with a low hum.

It was as if the blade understood its master’s will and whispered its desire for more.

Sion instinctively tightened his grip on the sword.

The sensation of the sword clinging to his palm was different from before.

He felt a chilling thirst—like a starving predator.

‘It feeds on my negative emotions?’

This was a completely different matter from simply growing stronger.

The deeper his desire to protect, the fiercer his rage toward enemies, the more unimaginable power this sword would unleash.

Kegan delivered the final warning.

“It all depends on how you wield it. If you dominate the sword with iron will, it can become an unparalleled legendary blade. But if, on the contrary, you’re consumed by the sword’s temptation—then it won’t be you wielding the sword anymore. The sword will wield you. Just like a blood-hungry monster.”

Sion nodded once, then fell silent.

His gaze turned far away, toward the gloomy peak of Kashibelli Rock.

‘If my hatred toward the Apostle of Decay is strong enough—can the Demon Sword overcome it?’

The Demon Sword shivered darkly, sensing the killing intent blazing in Sion’s heart, resonating with his anger as if it had a life of its own.

A faint smile appeared at the corner of Sion’s lips. It was dangerous power, but at this moment, he had no stronger ally.

It felt perfectly suited to be the sword of a War Knight.

“Let’s hurry, Senior. Before it’s too late.”

***

After traveling another full day, they arrived at the main base of the Black Banner Unit.

A natural fortress carved into the middle of a rocky mountain. But what greeted them wasn’t the lively shouts of mercenaries.

Instead—overpowering stench and the silence of death.

“This… this can’t be!”

One of the unit members tumbled off his horse, screaming.

The base was devastated. The walls had melted and blackened from the curse of decay. The training ground had turned into a swamp of sticky mud and tangled corpses.

Fortunately, there was no one left alive.

The livestock they had raised had tragically perished.

“The main base has fallen too.”

“Damn it… We just finished repairs too.”

Kegan silently drew his sword.

The Black Banner Unit began systematically scanning the base, calm and disciplined. Without any command, their movements were perfectly synchronized.

Sion also advanced, coldly surveying this place filled with the curse of decay.

That was when it happened.

Gurgle… gurrrrrgle…

Bubbling!

In the center of the swamp—a mixture of livestock corpses and mud—something massive began to stir.

The surface of the swamp swelled up, and slowly, a horrifying figure emerged: a grotesque mass formed from animal bones, entrails, and rotting flesh.

‘What is this?’

Kiiing!

Sion drew the Demon Sword.

An overwhelming force compelled him to reach for his weapon. There was no choice.

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