Chapter 147

Ch.147Apostle of the Goddess of War

Cough! Cough!

Sion heaved, gasping for air. Tartania’s gut… was hell.

The stench, the texture, the oozing malice—unbearable by any standard.

‘My siblings?’

He turned to see Set and Jien soaked in inky fluid—but alive.

Their forms were monstrous, yet their breaths steady. That was enough. Survival was everything.

“Hah…!”

“Uuugh…”

Both groaned awake.

‘What about Loenhaugter?’

Sion searched for him—their primary objective. Was he saved?

“Don’t worry about Loenhaugter. He’s recovering inside me.”

Tartania materialized beside him, voice lazy.

Sion’s eyes widened. “What happened?”

“We escaped safely. This is near Elim. Couldn’t enter Elim itself—the barriers held.”

She smiled, unfazed by the chaos she’d survived.

“Hah…”

Sion collapsed back, heart still racing. Fighting Mago felt unreal.

He asked again:

“Are the Goddesses safe?”

“Yes.”

Tartania nodded without hesitation.

“Achille is with them. They’ll be fine.”

“Is my Goddess truly that strong?”

An amusing question to her. Even Apostles rarely grasped their Goddess’s full power—only Evil Gods who’d witnessed Achille’s wrath understood her terror.

“She’s strong. Stronger than any Goddess.”

“I see.”

“She’s still weak now… but soon. Just as Eru foresaw, she’ll regain her strength.”

Tartania rose, wiping Sion’s grimy cheek.

“Well? My purity is proven now, right? I got you out safely.”

“Yes. Sorry for doubting you.”

Sion sat up, exhausted. Below, Elim bustled under moonlight—flickering lights gathering like stars.

A sight only the living could witness.

“Pretty city.”

Tartania gazed at the view.

A city growing because of war—ironic, yet inevitable.

“We never had a city of our own. Mago’s demons lacked this aesthetic sense.”

“Right. They were ugly.”

“Ahaha!”

Tartania laughed.

“Only Eru could grant sensibility and artistry. Mago never found how.”

“Sad, truly.”

Tartania smoothly changed subject:

“I’ll keep Loenhaugter as collateral for now.”

“What?”

“The Goddesses don’t know of my betrayal yet. You’ll explain it well—or else…” She smiled. “I need my own insurance.”

Sion inwardly admired her cunning. Holding Loenhaugter let her straddle both sides—

If things soured, returning him to Mago wouldn’t seem odd.

A Goddess who’d layered corruption upon corruption—capable of being Evil God or Sovereign alike. Fascinating.

Sion chuckled weakly and nodded. He had no choice.

“Understood. I’ll persuade them well.”

“Good. As a token of goodwill, I’ll give you a gift.”

“A gift?”

Sion tilted his head.

“To impress you?”

Tartania swallowed hard—then vomited up a sword.

Saliva dripped from its hilt as the blade fully emerged—

Old, chipped, pitted with holes—yet radiating ancient, threatening beauty.

“This was for my Apostle. But I have none now… so I give it to you.”

“Re… really?”

Unprecedented. An Evil God gifting her Apostle’s weapon to an enemy commander?

“Lady Tartania…”

Sion’s voice softened.

“You’re truly sincere.”

“Of course! I’m always sincere.”

Sion, ever the Apostle of War, couldn’t deny his growing hunger for blades.

Like Garfenn, he’d developed the urge to collect legendary swords.

Thinking of his master’s sword-filled mental realm, he accepted Tartania’s blade.

“It corrupts everything it cuts. Even other blades aren’t safe—piercing magic and divine power alike.”

“Incredible.”

Tartania smirked.

“I’ve entrusted you with everything now. You’re responsible for me.”

Sion gave a strained smile.

Faced with such sincerity, he couldn’t refuse.

“Fine. I’ll wait nearby. You return to Elim. When Achille comes back, tell her about me.”

Sion nodded. Tartania folded her pinky in a playful farewell—

And vanished when he blinked.

In the human world—outside Mago’s domain—she couldn’t maintain form long.

This was the core difference between Goddesses and mortals:

‘Goddesses struggle to appear visibly now.’

Proof the Age of Man had truly dawned.

Only those chosen by Goddesses would see or hear them—

And someday, far in the future…

‘People will doubt Goddesses even exist.’

Not yet, though.

After an era so long, disbelief would take equally long to grow.

“Wake up, Set. Jien.”

Tap tap.

Sion slapped their cheeks.

Both reeked of bile—but showed no sign of waking.

‘No choice.’

He sighed, stood fully, grabbed their legs, and dragged them. At least the stench was unbearable.

‘I’ll toss them in the river. Bathe myself too.’

***

“…That’s how it happened.”

Sion returned to Elim with Set and Jien. Achille hadn’t appeared yet.

Worry lingered—but not deeply. He still felt their spiritual link.

First, he’d tie up loose ends in Elim:

Share everything with Gustein, Ruina, and Kaili—those who led the city.

Mago’s hidden world.

Tartania’s defection.

The truth of Loenhaugter.

Gustein couldn’t stop laughing—

Not in joy, but sheer disbelief. His mind had cracked under the scale of Sion’s Goddess-filled ordeal.

“Hahaha… I need a drink.”

He gulped down a gifted spirit. Ruina shot him a look. Gustein muttered, then corked the bottle.

Ruina spoke:

“At least you’re safe, Brother. Any injuries?”

“No. The Goddesses protected me.”

Thinking back, those moments were euphoric—Goddesses risking themselves for one mortal.

The highest honor a human could receive.

Yet Ruina grew serious:

“Can we really trust the Evil God of Corruption?”

“She met all my demands. For now, she’s credible.”

“Hmm. If you say so.”

“The Goddesses will judge her truthfulness anyway.”

Ruina agreed. Further debate was pointless. The topic turned to Loenhaugter.

“He visited often… yet his true nature defies imagination.”

Gustein, Kaili, and Ruina all shared that shock. No one expected it.

Only Mago likely knew his secret.

“If things go well, this is huge. We’ll lead in the Holy Grail War.”

“Right. Even with all shards, without Loenhaugter, we’d only have half the power.”

“He holds the core.”

Ruina crossed her arms, smiling. Sion mirrored her.

This breakthrough lit the path in their desperate shard hunt.

Now, convince the Goddesses—and secure Loenhaugter. Victory was within reach.

They had to move faster, seize advantage.

In the four-way race against Evil Gods, the Empire, and the Demon Alliance, they needed ruthless focus.

“You achieved the best outcome. Well done, Brother.”

Ruina praised him—eyes full of respect and affection.

Sion blushed slightly, murmuring thanks.

Direct praise still felt awkward—no matter how often it came.

Quietly listening, Kaili broke the brief silence:

“But… Sister. Shouldn’t we leave soon? We’ve been gone too long.”

“Oh, right.”

Ruina scratched her cheek. Sion looked at Kaili, puzzled.

“Where are you going?”

“Foils!” Ruina answered.

Sion’s eyes widened. “Ah!”

“A Church of War branch opened in Foils. I’m overseeing it temporarily.”

“Perfect.”

“Yeah! Kaili, you’re coming too. The Maiden visits in days to bless the opening.”

Kaili, who’d sat rigidly like an ice princess, finally relaxed—making a childlike pout.

“Ugh… so annoying.”

“Tell me about it.”

Ruina pulled Kaili closer, whining too.

Sion watched them fondly.

His siblings were giving their all in their own roles—bringing him quiet pride.

“I’ll escort you. Might as well see the consecration.”

Ruina shook her head.

“You’re busy. You just survived a crisis—rest.”

“But—”

Gustein cut in:

“No need. The War Knights now fully control regional security.”

“War Knights… Right.”

Sion had forgotten. He’d wrongly assumed the Church of War had no strength but himself.

“You’ll travel lavishly now, Sion. You’re an Apostle—no need to worry over such details.”

Sion chuckled.

“Feels oddly disappointing.”

“It’s a good thing.”

“Exactly.”

Gustein and Ruina shared a knowing smile—while Sion, still a field agent at heart, couldn’t fully grasp their joy at having ample manpower.

“I’ll leave tomorrow—after Set wakes. He complained he didn’t fight properly last time? I’ll scold him hard.”

Ruina teased.

“Well, the conditions gave him no chance.”

Sion defended him—and it was simply true.

This ordeal clarified why Apostles and Knights existed separately:

Their battlefields were entirely different.

Sion, Set, and Jien now understood that divide clearly.

“Oh—visitors.”

Kaili spoke suddenly.

All three looked at the young Maiden—

Who sometimes gave eerily accurate warnings.

Her spiritual perception surpassed even Sion’s.

“Who?” Sion asked.

Kaili spread two fingers:

“Two. The Goddesses… and Arwen.”

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