Chapter 102

Ch.102 Apostle of the Goddess of War

Before the conflict with the Wisdom Cult had even fully settled, events rapidly unfolded.

Sion had to go to the Holy Kingdom.

There, he would have to prove his strength, faith, and goodness to those who watched warily and envied him.

He would also have to bring back his master, who was in crisis.

This expedition carried great weight.

It was more important than ever before.

If this matter could be concluded successfully, he could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Just before Sion was about to depart for the Holy Kingdom,

Kaili called for him.

Under the Elim tree, Kaili’s spiritual alignment was nearing its completion.

The Goddess of Wildflowers and Marquisin were pouring their utmost care into the process.

Thus, Kaili’s body could not move freely, meaning Sion had to come to her.

Sitting beneath the tree, greeting Sion with mysterious eyes, she gave the impression of already being the priestess—a preview of what she would become.

Kaili’s aura was profoundly sacred.

“Kaili.”

“Yes, brother. You came.”

Kaili opened her eyes.

A pink petal fell onto the bridge of her nose.

Even that petal slipped gently away.

Kaili’s entire body had been anointed with fragrant oil extracted from wildflowers, and over that, divine energy had been layered.

External forces could not easily reach her.

Just to look at her, one could tell she had become a noble, sacred vessel.

Even an older brother’s manner toward his youngest sister subtly changed.

Sion found himself acting cautiously without realizing it.

Noticing this, Kaili pouted and whined like a spoiled child.

“Brother, just treat me normally. Mmm? It feels uncomfortable.”

Sion startled slightly, as if waking from a dream.

‘That’s right. She’ll be lonely now.’

He and Ruina, as well as Set, must always treat Kaili not as a priestess, but as their younger sister.

That was what Kaili wanted.

“I was just amazed, that’s all. Amazed. It’s just surprising to see a mischievous little kid quietly practicing.”

“But I’ve always been more mature than you older siblings!”

The youngest sister gave a sweet, affectionate smile, her eyes crinkling with warmth.

Sion chuckled.

She had changed, yet remained unchanged.

Kaili would always be Kaili.

‘It’s me who’s changing.’

And the surrounding environment.

Sion was now navigating the whirlwind of upheaval.

Those who would remain constant, holding him steady no matter the circumstances—were none other than his sisters.

‘Never forget this.’

Sion engraved it deeply into his heart, again and again.

He remembered Kaili’s request as if carving each name into his bones.

Kaili tilted her head slightly and asked,

“Now, you’re going to the Holy Kingdom, right?”

“Yes. When I return, we’ll officially hold your priestess inauguration ceremony.”

“That sounds bothersome.”

“I feel the same way.”

They shared similar temperaments.

Neither liked unnecessary formalities.

They didn’t even understand the reasons behind them.

Yet if others wanted it, they would comply without complaint—only confiding and venting when they were alone together.

“I’ll do my best too.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. When you come back, give me a hug.”

Sion nodded.

Of course he would.

Right now, physical contact had to be carefully avoided due to the delicate phase she was in.

It couldn’t be helped.

Slowly, it was time to leave.

He had already said goodbye to everyone else.

Even without Garfenn, the War Knights were there, so he had no worries.

His only remaining concern had been Kaili—but even she was showing a strong, cheerful demeanor.

In fact, now it was her turn to become Elim’s spiritual leader and guide the War Cult forward.

It felt uneasy, placing such a heavy burden on someone so young.

But Kaili humbly accepted her fate.

‘No, she might even enjoy it.’

The occasional excited look on her face made it clear—this child possessed an extraordinary spirit and courage beyond her years.

‘She’s not just pretending to be brave…’

In any case, all of Sion’s siblings had safely settled in Elim.

The young slaves who once trembled in fear were now becoming pillars of a Cult.

Sion could ask for nothing more.

All he wished for was to maintain this life and continue their daily existence.

“Well then, I’m off. See you later, Kaili.”

“Okay, brother. And—”

“Yes?”

“Our Goddess.”

Goddess Achille?

Sion turned back and asked.

Kaili answered with a simple “Yes,” smiling brightly.

“Why did the Goddess say that?”

“She said she’ll be waiting for you in the Holy Kingdom. Uncle Garfenn too.”

“Oh.”

Seeing this, she truly was the priestess now.

The priestess’s greatest role was to convey the Goddess’s will to ordinary believers.

“Did the Goddess speak to you?”

“Yes. I can’t hear her words clearly, but I can sense her intent.”

“You’re amazing, Kaili.”

“Hehe.”

Kaili gave her usual weak, silly smile—the kind of expressionless grin unique to her.

Then she waved her hand.

For now, it was time to part.

When he returned from the Holy Kingdom, much would have changed.

Sion, Kaili, Elim—and the world surrounding them.

***

“Did you finish saying your goodbyes?”

“Thank you for giving me enough time. Commander of the Order of the Holy Sword.”

“Damn it. Call me Brother Lagan, just casually! You’re not even part of the Order of the Holy Sword—why add ‘Commander’?”

The main force of the Order of the Holy Sword, which had been stationed near Elim, finally began its departure.

Given how busy they usually were, their stay in Elim had been something of a vacation for them.

Deep down, they had hoped Sion would stay longer.

Soon, they’d be back to endless missions, missions, missions…

Indeed, when Sion appeared, sighs of disappointment had quietly spread among the Order of the Holy Sword members.

It had been fun and interesting.

‘I never expected this place to feel so human.’

Traveling with the Order of the Holy Sword, Sion closely observed the empire’s strongest knightly order in detail.

They didn’t skip even the smallest villages, stopping by to check if anyone needed help.

They eradicated monsters without hesitation and didn’t disdain even minor chores.

All of Sion’s preconceptions about the Order of the Holy Sword collapsed at once.

On the contrary—

‘This is exactly the ideal Order of the Holy Knight I imagined.’

Normally, it was the top ranks that became corrupt.

But the Order of the Holy Sword was the opposite—the lower ranks were the dirtiest.

What was the difference?

To find the answer, he needed conversation. Sion wanted to talk with the Commander of the Order of the Holy Sword.

He wanted to observe him up close.

There would be things to learn.

He planned to share them with the War Cult later.

For Sion personally, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

‘Commander Lagan.’

Excluding Garfenn, he was the strongest human Sion had ever seen.

Even Arwen couldn’t stand against Lagan.

He was a man who naturally inspired awe.

Sion had grown with each opponent he faced, taking a step forward each time.

The enlightenment he gained from Arwen alone was mountainous. He couldn’t even guess how profound the inspiration from the Commander of the Order of the Holy Sword would be.

He even thought, just once, about crossing swords with him.

‘Let me learn something from this.’

It was just then, during a rest break.

Lagan, as usual, immediately dismounted his horse, urinated, then flopped down under the shade like a sack of potatoes.

He showed no concern at all for honor or dignity as the greatest knight in the Holy Kingdom.

Sion approached Lagan.

He stood at a slight distance, cautiously observing.

A peerless swordsman, the pinnacle of holy knights.

To Sion, who walked the path of asceticism, he was a senior by far. Sion treated him with the utmost respect.

Suddenly, the Commander of the Order of the Holy Sword lifted one leg up like a chicken drumstick and wiggled it.

“Why are you just standing there like a statue? If you have something to say, come closer.”

His tone was casual.

But unlike their first meeting, Sion didn’t feel flustered.

Precisely because of this personality, it was easier to approach him.

Sion felt it.

The members of the Order of the Holy Sword felt it.

Even the disciples of light felt it.

Sion plopped down beside him.

“The Order of the Holy Sword I imagined and the one led by Commander Lagan feel different.”

“They have to be different.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I’m here.”

Arrogant, yet it didn’t feel unpleasant.

To say ‘It’s different because I’m here’ was a statement only someone truly confident could make.

It wasn’t mere arrogance.

The position of Commander of the Order of the Holy Sword wasn’t one attainable through arrogance alone.

It was a title only someone qualified to say such a thing could hold.

“You want to learn, don’t you?”

Lagan asked, lazily glancing at Sion while lying down. Despite his age, his expression was mischievous, like a playful child.

He’d probably get along well with Set.

“Yes. It’s so ideal.”

“Honest young people are rare. I like you much more than that Arwen girl.”

“Do you not get along with Miss Arwen?”

“I try to be friendly… but she absolutely despises me.”

Sion thought he knew the reason but chose not to voice it.

“In any case, what do you want to ask, Sion of the War Cult?”

Sion paused briefly before answering Lagan’s question.

“How to lead people.”

This was something neither Garfenn nor Goddess Achille could answer.

Before Sion, the War Cult had always been isolated—from the Goddess down to her followers.

They had no experience or concept of leading others.

Now, the War Cult was just beginning to change.

And those responsible for leading and bearing the burden would be the next apostle Sion, the next priestess Kaili, the next archbishop Ruina, and the next commander of the knights, Set.

All of them were beginners, so it was inevitable they would be inexperienced.

If they could compress time and gain wisdom through the experiences of their seniors, there was no reason not to.

“Hmm.”

Lagan suddenly sat up from his lying position, pulling his knees to his chest just like Sion.

He scanned the members, each taking personal time to rest.

“Hey!”

Then he called out to a passing member, who grimaced.

“What?”

“When the commander calls, you come!”

Indeed…

Not only the commander, but the entire atmosphere of the knightly order was light and free.

The member grumbled but eventually came over to Lagan.

“If you make me do something weird, I’m outta here.”

“This brat trying to run away. Just one question.”

“Okay.”

Sion listened intently to their conversation.

“In your eyes as a fellow member, what kind of commander am I?”

“Commander? Just an annoying guy.”

He called another member.

“Commander? Honestly, does he even qualify?”

Another member.

“To be honest, when I first saw him… I thought I’d come to the wrong place. Some weird guy comes up, slings his arm around me, says he’s the commander. I thought, is this guy crazy?”

His attendant.

“Commander Lagan? Well… um… I’ll refrain from comment.”

A random passerby.

“Who are you?”

Everyone’s evaluation of Lagan was similar.

A strange person.

An easygoing person.

Someone who doesn’t seem to fit the role of Commander of the Order of the Holy Sword.

‘Why did he even stop someone who doesn’t know him?’

Though all the comments seemed negative, the more Sion listened, the more amazed he became.

This man, Lagan, was truly extraordinary.

‘The pinnacle of the Order of the Holy Sword can be this laid-back?’

Did the word ‘pressure’ not exist in this man’s dictionary?

Rather, his casual attitude likely contributed to the free and positive atmosphere of the main Order of the Holy Sword unit.

The Order of the Holy Sword carried great weight.

Yet no one seemed burdened by it.

The atmosphere was so natural that even if they were a band of bandits, it would feel acceptable.

Therefore—

‘They are strong.’

Precisely because they were genuinely powerful.

They were tightly united through thorough trust.

‘Is strength itself leadership and charisma?’

When needed, they demonstrated their power, overwhelming their subordinates and earning their trust.

That was Sion’s understanding.

“Well, what do you think?”

Only after failing to hear a single good word from even the last member did Lagan finally ask Sion.

He clearly looked disappointed—no one had said anything nice, not even as a joke.

Sion decided to tease him a little.

“I think I need to observe a bit more to say for sure. Hmm.”

“R-right?”

Lagan smiled awkwardly, sweat visibly dripping down his face.

***

The opportunity to properly witness his unique leadership style came not long after.

“What? Who?”

“Up ahead. There are traces of Blood Cultists.”

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