Chapter 92

Ch.92 Apostle of the Goddess of War

Sion sat in the living room of the house where he stayed with his younger siblings, carefully examining documents.

Alongside him was tea brewed by Ruina before she went to bed. It had gone completely cold by now, but it still felt good to soothe his throat.

Pallak.

He turned the page.

Personal information was written there.

Even that much consisted of woefully insufficient details.

‘Origin is somewhere in the East. Even farther than Deogel.’

It was certain that this area belonged to the jurisdiction of the Wisdom Cult. However, even there, religious refugees occasionally appeared.

Since the chaotic cults began stretching their limbs, their numbers had been gradually increasing.

Sion scrutinized the names pointed out by Kaili.

Three individuals whom Kaili sensed as having unusually strong divine energy from the Goddess of Wisdom:

—Marius

—Lelana

—Arne

A family of refugees, nothing particularly conspicuous.

Considering that the daughter of this family had hesitated during rations distribution today, they hadn’t caused any trouble. On the contrary, they actively followed Elim’s rules and lived diligently.

‘Others’ evaluations of them are also good.’

They had arrived at Elim about a week ago.

Until now, they truly seemed like completely harmless people.

‘Until now… So well-hidden, huh.’

Never did he expect they would actually infiltrate Elim.

He had considered the possibility, but the reality of it now made him slightly bewildered.

Sion stared at the separate notes he had written on the paper—his own personal observations.

[Spy from the Wisdom Cult]

Especially beside Arne’s name, additional comments were added:

—Arne? Real name Arwen?

—Possibility of being an Apostle of the Wisdom Cult.

—Heard she has silver hair, but no. Could it be a wig?

—Could also be magic.

—Keeps sniffling, seems like a crybaby.

The possibility is high.

When he observed her gait and presence, nothing seemed unusual.

Just the steps of an ordinary, timid person.

But it was still too early to let his guard down.

Highly trained knights could even deceive others about their footsteps and breathing.

However…

‘She seemed incredibly stupid.’

Couldn’t answer questions properly, stammering and stuttering!

Could even that be an act?

Well, someone who’s supposed to be an Apostle of Wisdom wouldn’t still be a crybaby.

Wasn’t Bishop Gustein saying he last saw her five years ago?

She must have grown since then, now maintaining the dignity befit of an apostle.

‘She’s not a child anymore.’

Until he understood more, he couldn’t make any definitive judgment.

And yet, he couldn’t act rashly either.

If he attacked recklessly and subdued her, it would give them perfect grounds to raise an issue.

That might be exactly what they wanted.

Sion tightly pressed his tired eyes and stood up.

‘I’ll approach her once more tomorrow.’

***

The next day, Sion returned to the refugee area once again.

Since he had already identified his target, there was no need to bring Kaili along.

With no risk involved, it was better for Sion to act alone.

Today, he planned to have a slightly longer conversation.

There would be something to gain through dialogue.

If he was lucky, he might spot an opening and exploit it.

That was precisely why he was going.

Sion sought out the person in charge of managing the selection area—a man who had followed him from the mine.

It was pleasing to see him, like Anna, settling in and fulfilling his role well.

He couldn’t forgive those from the Wisdom Cult who would try to misuse this and do evil.

Sion stated his request:

He planned to go to Elim Forest to gather herbs and wanted them to send one idle woman along—under the condition that he would teach her herb knowledge.

This would also give the woman something useful to do in Elim, so it was a favorable arrangement.

‘Since I’m appearing personally, they’ll definitely approach.’

Sion’s appearance was both a crisis and an opportunity for them.

An opportunity to observe the next Apostle of the War Cult.

Or perhaps—

An opportunity to secretly kill him in a forest where no one could see.

Soon, someone approached with faint, lifeless footsteps.

Outside the fence of the refugee selection area.

“U-um, h-hello.”

She arrived.

The Apostle of Wisdom.

“Hello. Were you sent by Mr. Forden?”

Sion asked without revealing his thoughts.

“Y-yes. About herbs… you said you’d teach me.”

“Oh, right. Seems you’re interested.”

Arne.

Arwen cautiously nodded her head.

This timid, naive appearance didn’t feel like an act at all.

Unless she was naturally a coward and timid by nature, could she really display such detailed expressions and behaviors?

His confusion grew slightly.

‘This is tough.’

Sion led her forward.

As they walked, he started making conversation.

“What’s your name?”

“A-arne.”

“Arne. I’m Sion.”

“Y-yes…”

No particular reaction.

He felt an inexplicable sense of defeat.

It was like trying to talk to an indifferent person of the opposite sex and being met with coldness.

Suddenly, Sion felt like seeing Ruina.

‘Even talking is hard. She’s a formidable opponent.’

But it was too early to give up.

Let’s keep trying to talk.

“Have you ever been to Elim Forest before?”

“No…”

“Oh, right. You can’t leave the selection area. Must be frustrating.”

“It’s… bearable.”

“Are there any inconveniences? We’re trying to hurry up the selection process as much as possible, but I’m still sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Drip.

‘Haa…’

This wasn’t easy.

Was talking to a woman really this difficult?

He felt a barrier he’d never experienced even when wielding a sword.

An enormous, towering wall.

Rising sharply before him.

And facing that wall, Sion silently screamed inside:

‘Say something!’

However—

“…”

“…”

Unless Sion said something, the only ‘noise’ between them was their footsteps.

And even those were quiet—Sion, as a trained knight, made little sound, and Arne, the woman walking beside him, seemed to have such a light body or such a quiet personality that her very presence was almost imperceptible.

Sapak sapak.

Thus, the two walked through Elim Forest.

Though it was early winter, this place remained lush and green, like a different world.

Thanks to the blessing of the Goddess of Wildflowers.

This was her domain.

And this—

Was Sion’s scheme.

He had previously asked Marquisin to amplify the influence of the Goddess of Wildflowers.

Now that she had entered this place, even if she were the Apostle of Wisdom, it would be difficult for her to fully exert her power.

There would be no interference from the Goddess of Wisdom either.

Arne had walked into the lion’s den of her own accord.

The environment had changed. Sion carefully observed her.

Sapak, sapak.

Yet she only meekly answered his questions, showing no special reaction.

No sign of discomfort, no hint of sensing a change or resistance.

‘What’s going on?’

Did she genuinely not know?

What kind of place this was?

Or…

Was even this an incredibly sophisticated act?

‘Can a person really act this well?’

Even Sion, upon entering another Goddess’s domain, would instinctively sense it, feel tension, or show some reaction.

It was a natural phenomenon.

The higher one’s spiritual cultivation, whether as a believer or warrior, the more sensitive they became.

‘How on earth…?’

This wasn’t easy.

Kaili couldn’t possibly be wrong.

She was definitely the Apostle of Wisdom.

And yet, he couldn’t find any opening.

Was she truly worthy of being called the Apostle of Wisdom?

Not an easy opponent.

He had never underestimated her, but her inner workings were harder to decipher than he had imagined.

‘Let’s go somewhere more uncomfortable and probe her further.’

Any human would show some reaction.

Sion deliberately led Arne toward a more isolated, uninhabited area.

There, he began pretending to pick herbs he didn’t actually know, acting as if he recognized them.

In truth, he couldn’t tell whether they were herbs or weeds.

He was just making up plausible-sounding explanations on the spot.

‘But does this woman not know herbs either?’

There was a preconception that the Wisdom Cult possessed vast knowledge.

Sion had focused on that point.

Someone who actually knew herbs might have corrected him when he pulled what could have been a poisonous plant.

“We’ll pick this one too. It’s good for the body.”

“Waah… Okay.”

Yet Arne acted like someone repeating a memorized line.

No matter what he did or said, her response was always the same.

‘Like this, I won’t gain anything.’

He could already picture himself losing this psychological battle.

She was clearly exerting all her strength not to reveal anything.

Then, he had to strike hard enough to shatter her composure.

They were squatting down, pulling up grass—whether weeds or poisonous plants, neither knew—when Sion suddenly spoke.

“Arwen. What do you think of the Wisdom Cult?”

He asked deliberately, using her real name correctly.

An unexpected ambush.

At that very moment, Sion’s blue eyes fixed on her, not missing even the slightest movement of her pupils.

Swaaaaa.

The wind blew, as if signaling a sudden shift in atmosphere.

Her silver hair fluttered softly.

“U-um…”

Arwen reacted, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“But my name is Arne…’sniffle’”

But then—

Huh?

Suddenly, she began to cry.

And what she said next was even more absurd.

“A-are you going to expel me?”

“Huh? No, no, why are you suddenly crying—”

Waaaaaah.

Arwen began shedding tears, speaking through sobs.

“Y-you brought me here on purpose to use me as cheap labor. And you even got my name wrong!”

“No, I’m sorry about that—”

“And then, huuuuh, suddenly asking about the Wisdom Cult? Are you testing me because the War Cult won’t accept me? Trying to force me to go back? ‘sniffle’”

She cried so pitifully that Sion found it hard to say anything.

He had probed her to see her reaction, but the response was utterly bizarre.

‘Women’s tears.’

Wasn’t this the most devastating counterattack in the world?

Had he not known her true identity,

Sion might have hugged Arne right there and comforted her.

“There seems to be some misunderstanding, Arne. There was no special meaning behind what I said.”

“Then why ask?”

Arne shot him a sharp glare.

Her pretty, haughty face smeared with long strands of snot.

He almost burst out laughing uncontrollably.

Had he not held back, he might have died—not by the hand of the Apostle of Wisdom, but by that of an ordinary woman.

“I just heard you’re from the East. People from there usually believe in the Goddess of Wisdom, right?”

Khuuung!

She blew her nose once, then opened her mouth.

“Yes. I used to as well.”

“And now?”

“What kind of question is that? I came to Elim to convert, didn’t I?”

“Of course, of course.”

“Yes…”

Arwen wiped her tears and looked at Sion. Her pouting face looked genuinely offended.

‘I feel bad for no reason.’

If this was an act, it was certainly a success.

Sion’s heart had softened.

But that was all.

He wouldn’t be shaken any further.

In fact, that very conversation had only deepened his certainty.

‘Silver hair. I definitely saw it, even if just for a moment.’

By linking with the Goddess of Wildflowers, whatever had been concealing her identity had been temporarily undone.

When he called her Arwen, a brief flicker of disturbance arose from within her.

At that instant, the wind imbued with the blessing of the Goddess of Wildflowers blew.

For just a moment, he saw her true self—

A silver-haired girl.

Thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump…

Sion’s heart began to race.

Was now the time?

The moment to draw his sword?

“Shall we head back now?”

But Sion did not draw his sword.

Spilling blood within another Goddess’s sacred territory was a grave offense.

Though they were allies, he must not cross that line.

Otherwise, it would look like he was using brute force to bully them.

Above all—

‘She hasn’t done anything yet.’

He needed evidence.

Only by catching her in the act could he prevent the Wisdom Cult from using their authority to interfere.

“Y-yes, yes. Let’s go.”

Whether or not she knew Sion’s true intentions,

Arwen calmly brushed the dirt off her clothes and stood up.

And until they left Elim Forest, nothing happened between them.

She remained so composed that one might wonder if Arwen truly wasn’t Arne after all.

***

“Haa!”

As soon as Arwen reached her tent, she exhaled the breath she had been forcibly holding in.

She had endured with superhuman willpower, knowing that showing any sign would be dangerous.

She had overcome the spiritual harassment from the Goddess of Wildflowers through sheer human endurance alone.

The moment she entered the forest, she had squeezed out every ounce of strength to suppress the rising nausea.

Arwen was nearly exhausted.

Lying helplessly on the tent floor, eyes closed, she recalled:

‘…He only picked poisonous plants. Was he planning to poison me? Or was he testing me on purpose?’

And then—

She saw it.

When an unfamiliar wind blew through the forest, she saw her own reflection in Sion’s eyes.

Clearly.

Silver hair.

‘I’ve been… discovered…?’

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