Chapter 124

Ch.124 Apostle of the Goddess of War

The night sky brightened as if a festival of flames had erupted. It seemed as though crimson twilight had suddenly been painted across the world.

Sion’s thought process accelerated abruptly, heating up like a warhorse charging at full gallop.

‘What’s going on?’

‘Who is that woman?’

‘What is that old man babbling about again?’

‘Where is my master?’

‘Has the Heavenly Gate been attacked? Judging by the direction, it seems likely.’

‘Ah, right. What about the Apostle of Darkness…?’

Snap.

Sion finished his thoughts. There was no more room for idle distractions. What had already happened was done; there was nothing Sion could do about it now.

All he could do was trust in the Apostles of the Goddesses. Right now, he had to focus solely on the opponent before him.

The surest way to break through this chaotic situation was to defeat this woman and reach the scene of the incident as quickly as possible.

“That crumpled face of yours looks just like a rat that ate grass.”

The woman who appeared out of nowhere sneered mockingly.

Shhh… shhhhh…

Sion glared at her and slowly drew his sword. He spread out his divine power to assess his opponent.

Divine threads radiated from the War knight, entangling like spiderwebs.

Clack.

Sion pointed his sword at her.

“I smell blood. So you’re an Inquisitor of Blood, huh? Even if you kill an Apostle, unless you slay the Evil God itself, it’ll never end. How annoying.”

“Let me introduce myself. I’m Evelyn, newly appointed as an Apostle following the old man you killed.”

“I don’t care.”

Evelyn curled the corners of her lips, revealing sharp fangs protruding from her mouth.

“But I care a great deal about you.”

“……”

“Today, at the Festival of Blood, I’ll offer you as a sacrifice—the finest offering to my Goddess and the old man.”

“Is that so?”

Sion bent his knees, resembling a predator ready to pounce at any moment.

“Go ahead and try.”

Paaat!

The predator slammed into the ground. Clear imprints marked where he’d pushed off. In the next instant, Sion was already swinging his sword toward the new Apostle of Blood.

Whoosh—ick!

He cleaved through the air, and only afterward did the sound ripple out.

The Apostle of Blood evaded with a large, sweeping motion. The fluttering hem of her dress resembled bat wings.

Evelyn gracefully moved her hands midair. Threads appeared on her fingers, weaving into arrows of blood.

Pishuk!

The moment a single blood arrow flew toward him, it split into dozens, showering down like rain.

Pabababat!

Sion didn’t dodge; instead, he deflected the arrows. His sword was already surrounded by a dark aura.

Wooong.

Sion’s divine ring spun. Enhancing his senses, his divine sight sucked in all information about his surroundings.

Evelyn had vanished. After firing the arrows, she melted into the darkness as if dissolving.

‘She’s skilled at concealing her presence.’

But even so, she was still an Apostle of Blood. To Sion, Apostles of Blood were no longer troublesome opponents.

‘Chasing blood… huh?’

Something felt off. Unlike when he’d killed previous Apostles of Blood, he couldn’t naturally sense blood magic this time.

Saaaaah!

A sharp wind blew between the buildings. Evelyn’s sharp voice followed it, echoing loudly.

“You chased the blood, didn’t you? Useless! Did you really come here without preparing for something this basic?”

She declared her vengeance.

Vengeance wasn’t Sion’s exclusive domain.

Any monk who walked the path of the sword must be prepared to face vengeance himself.

He’d underestimated the Apostle of Blood who had come all this way just to kill him.

Evelyn must have ground her teeth in fury for someone precious to her in her own way.

Whoosh!

A blood-red figure appeared at the center of the full moon, dancing gracefully like a fallen angel upon the moon.

It was a beauty as lethal as poison. For just an instant, Sion was mesmerized by the sight, allowing a blood arrow to pierce his shoulder.

“Kgh!”

Sion pulled out the blood arrow and immediately launched a follow-up strike.

‘What is this?’

It was classic blood magic.

Bewitchment. hemomancy.

Yet he’d fallen for it completely, despite fully understanding and being able to control blood magic himself—twice in a row, no less.

It felt like getting hit with a sledgehammer.

Had she made such rapid progress in hemomancy in such a short time?

Before he could ponder further, his vision flipped upside down.

‘The mental realm?’

Everything was a sea of blood.

The only recognizable feature was a chilling castle that looked fit for ancient vampire nobles.

Atop the highest spire of that castle stood Evelyn. In a space with not even a whisper of wind, her white hair rippled gently.

This was truly a space manifesting her own mental image.

She proudly displayed the bearing of a noble.

From her attire to her speech—

She embodied the unshakable pride of a blood aristocrat.

“Just as my elder fell to methods he couldn’t comprehend, you too shall die that way.”

Evelyn spoke with arrogant confidence, clearly believing she’d seized the advantage.

Instantly, the blood filling the space trembled and began rising, drop by drop, transforming into blades radiating an untouchable killing intent.

‘Blood Slash.’

It seemed Evelyn’s combat style involved weaving constructs of blood from a distance and hurling them.

Sion had figured that much out, but couldn’t analyze further.

This was an unprecedented barrier for Sion, who had instantly deciphered Jinjo’s hemomancy upon first seeing it.

‘How is this possible?’

The method of manipulation was completely different. This wasn’t the hemomancy Jinjo had wielded. It was far more complex and intricate…

‘It’s hard to understand.’

It felt as if the Evil God of Blood had personally intervened again.

Given more time, he might have managed it—but right now, time was running out.

The Blood Slashes began raining down, blanketing the sky. This attack couldn’t be blocked, and there was even less room to dodge.

This was Evelyn’s mental realm.

Everything would unfold as she willed it, and the strength and intricacy of her hemomancy would be on an entirely different level from before.

It’s coming.

Chwachwachwachwa!

Without even a moment’s hesitation, a rain of slashes poured down.

If struck by this attack, his very form would surely be obliterated. Now Evelyn’s confidence made sense—every drop of blood in this space transformed into slashing blades, tearing everything to shreds.

Swaaaaah—

Blood continued crashing down from the sky, determined to leave not even a single trace behind.

“Grrh!”

Evelyn gritted her teeth, channeling all her magical power to maintain the mental realm while unleashing her assault.

“Die! Die! Die!”

Even after expending firepower sufficient to kill him many times over, she remained vigilant.

Complacency was precisely what had gotten Elder Jinjo killed.

To avoid repeating that same mistake, she’d replayed today’s scenario countless times in her mind.

“Hah, hah…”

Finally, Evelyn ceased her attack—or rather, she’d exhausted herself completely. No magical power remained to unleash further.

She’d expelled everything without regret.

Both her vengeful fury and firepower.

Her breathing was ragged, her chest heaving visibly. Her body was exhausted; a wave of weakness washed over her entire being like an incoming tide.

But she still couldn’t afford to relax.

Until the very end, she wouldn’t let her guard down.

Not until she’d drunk the blood of the War Knight—blood so unsatisfying even chewing it wouldn’t quench her thirst.

Ten seconds.

One minute.

She waited without relaxing her vigilance, yet sensed no other presence.

It really was over.

The one who’d killed her elder had vanished, reduced to mere droplets of blood.

“Did I… finish him?”

“No?”

The moment a cold voice reached her ears, Evelyn’s mental realm tore apart with a loud ‘Bwook!’

Her mind shattered instantly, captured in a single moment.

Evelyn blinked.

A cold blade touched her neck.

“H-how?”

The scene before her eyes wasn’t a red world but an ocean of pitch blackness. And in that darkness, a single twinkling star shone—why did it look so beautiful?

“You tell me. I dismantled every bit of the Apostle of Blood’s magic.”

“Just kill me.”

“Is this perhaps the new wisdom bestowed by the Goddess of Blood herself?”

“……”

Evelyn didn’t answer.

She simply closed her eyes and accepted her fate.

A defeat she couldn’t excuse.

Regardless of the method, the fact remained: her vengeance had failed.

“Well, I don’t care either way.”

Sion tightened his grip on his arm and pulled the blade backward, intending to saw through her neck like a saw.

—!

At that moment, Sion had no choice but to halt his motion.

Kugugu.

A pale arm descended, shattering Sion’s mental realm. The palm was so enormous it seemed to cover the sky.

Sion quickly put distance between them. Fortunately, the giant hand’s target wasn’t him.

It was Evelyn, who until just moments ago had resigned herself to defeat and offered her neck willingly.

Kwaduk.

The pale hand that had intervened in the fight closed around Evelyn.

Whoosh!

An airburst exploded. The resulting storm was so fierce it made lifting one’s head difficult. While Sion struggled just to endure it, the giant hand vanished without a trace.

“What the hell was that?”

Sion stood frozen, as if entranced.

This battle had been utterly bewildering.

‘Could it really have been the Goddess of Blood herself?’

Sion suppressed his agitation, concluding that everything—the hemomancy Evelyn wielded, which he couldn’t break despite understanding Jinjo’s version—must have involved direct intervention by the Evil God.

Otherwise, there was no explanation.

‘Well, I received the Goddess’s help too.’

Sion wiped the blood from his nose.

His body swayed slightly. The aftereffects hitting him right after the battle ended were stronger than he’d expected.

‘The Goddess’s help was crucial.’

That was why he’d survived the Blood Slash, which had rained down like a dust storm.

When the Blood Slashes came flying, Sion had tainted only the space beneath his feet—just enough for his footing—with his mental realm, successfully making contact with the Goddess.

Then he’d recklessly drawn upon the power of the star.

To evade the inescapable downpour of blood, he’d needed to transcend the laws of physics.

‘Spatial teleportation.’

He’d moved an astonishingly long distance—practically a miracle he’d managed to pull it off in actual combat.

From his original position all the way to Evelyn’s castle. While Evelyn was focused on creating her slashes, Sion had suppressed his presence to the utmost limit and waited for the perfect moment.

Drip.

His nosebleed wouldn’t stop. He was reminded once again just how powerful—and risky—the power of the star truly was.

‘I really should only use it in absolute emergencies.’

Exhausted and bleary-eyed, Sion scanned the chaotic battlefield.

All around, chaos and screams filled the air.

‘Master…’

That single thought circled endlessly in Sion’s mind.

The rookie Apostle of Blood had vanished.

‘The Evil God of Blood must care for Evelyn quite a bit.’

Though annoyingly persistent like a mosquito, Sion had no time to dwell on it now. He’d managed to remove her from the battlefield, so he’d done his part.

But the war had only just begun.

Please, please let Garden not have encountered the Apostle of Darkness amidst that chaos.

Please.

Praying fervently, Sion pulled a dried paper pouch from his chest. Inside lay the medicinal herb the Inquisitor of Fire had given him as a token of gratitude previously.

‘So this is the dried herb the Apostle of Fire kept chewing on.’

It was said to dull pain and heal wounds. Right now, Sion was exhausted and badly injured.

It was worth saving it for a moment like this.

“Hup.”

Sion gulped down the entire herb in one bite and began sprinting into the darkness.

* * *

“Fate just won’t leave me alone.”

He’d walked only the path of slaughter.

His soul and body, stained by delving into the abyss. Now, stepping into the light to seek happiness would mean rejecting the path he’d painstakingly walked for so long.

That was enough. He’d dreamed a happy dream, however briefly—satisfaction should suffice. He shouldn’t wish for more.

Because Garfenn bore his own karmic debts.

The darkness before his eyes seemed to whisper:

‘Where do you think you’re running?’

Slurr.

“Yeah. For someone like me.”

With a bitter smile, Garfenn drew his greatsword from midair, ready to swallow all his karmic debts.

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