Chapter 158

Ch.158 Apostle of the Goddess of War

South of Elim, beyond the marshlands, lay the Church of Fire’s territory along the coastline.

Statues of the Goddess of Fire stood everywhere, accompanied by churches and fortresses built to protect them.

The southern region was so independent and insular

it could practically be called the Kingdom of Fire—

geographically severed from both the Imperial Court and the Holy Kingdom.

Thus, it maintained its own distinct culture, population, and military.

It was hardly surprising, then, that watchtowers densely lined the border of this single Church’s domain.

“The Church of War’s Sion?”

Altmann, guard of Watchtower No. 4 in the northwest, furrowed his dark brows.

“Yeah! What have you been doing lately?

You hear the name and act like it’s brand new?

Altmann—don’t you know Sion? Ugh—p-tooey!”

Bento spat a glob of phlegm outside the watchtower.

Altmann grimaced as the yellow clump stuck to the observation slit.

“Lately I’ve just been busy with Mary from the Black Roof.”

“Mary? Isn’t she that famous prostitute?”

“You little shit—watch your mouth! She’ll be your sister-in-law soon.”

“What!?”

Altmann flushed red and rubbed under his nose.

Bento studied his comrade’s expression for a moment—then bared his teeth.

“You crazy bastard—you’re serious!?”

Bento was stunned.

Altmann avoided answering—his silence spoke volumes.

“If you give your heart to a woman who sleeps with men for coin, you’re an idiot, you know that?”

“Shut it, you bastard! Mary’s different—not like those cheap whores.”

“Oh god, oh god… you fool.”

Bento thumped his chest—the sharp negotiation tactic used by women of the Black Roof.

He’d seen suckers like Altmann a hundred times.

“Listen to my advice—keep it just for fun, okay? Or you’ll end up humiliated for real.”

“Shut up. I’ll handle it myself. Like you—a virgin who’s never even married!”

“At least I’m not divorced for cheating!”

“Still better than you.”

“You son of a— Wait.”

The two bickering guards suddenly fell silent, noticing the absence of insect chirps.

“…”

They were seasoned soldiers—instinct sharp.

They knew to focus when sudden silence fell.

Whooo…

But it lasted only a moment.

“Just the wind.”

“Probably a wolf passed by. Scared for nothing, coward.”

Nothing could possibly appear in this peaceful land.

At most, a few goblins might cross the marshlands, fire a couple arrows, and flee.

And even they had been eradicated long ago in joint operations with the Church of War.

Bento turned back.

“Ugh, you idiot. Get your head straight! If you listen to your elder brother, you’ll find a decent woman even in your sleep!”

“Piss off. Anyway—tell me again.”

Altmann changed the subject to avoid the unpleasant talk.

He’d been curious about this since earlier.

“What?”

“Who exactly is ‘Sion of the Church of War’?”

“Oh—about that—”

Pik!

Something struck Bento’s temple—

incredibly fast and precise.

His eyes rolled back instantly, showing only whites.

Bento collapsed. It wasn’t an arrow.

“A stone? Who’s there!?”

Altmann drew his sword, peering through the fortress gap.

He saw Bento’s phlegm stuck in the observation slit.

Whack!

Another stone flew past the phlegm and hit Altmann.

“Gaaah!”

Altmann clutched his eye, writhing on the ground.

His eyeball burned—

it felt like it had burst. Blood smeared his palm.

He didn’t dare check if the eye was gone.

Instead, he summoned courage for something else.

‘It’s an ambush! I must warn them…!’

Regaining composure, Altmann reached for the horn hanging on the wall.

Keeeng.

“Don’t move.”

Cold metal touched his throat.

Altmann, who’d been about to push himself up from the ground, immediately spread both hands in surrender.

“We didn’t kill your comrade—just subdued him. Let’s have a little chat.”

It was a young man’s voice.

Altmann had no time to see his face—

nor did he feel permitted to.

More footsteps approached—two women this time.

One of them whimpered as she examined the unconscious Bento.

“H-h-hey… I-I’m sorry! I tried to control my strength…”

“You lunatic! You drill a hole in his temple and say ‘sorry’? Is ‘sorry’ all it takes!?”

“Eeek! H-his eye! His eye!”

“It’s fine. It didn’t pierce through. He’ll just have slightly worse vision—that’s all.”

“T-then that’s… good…!”

Altmann, far from ‘fine,’ had no idea what was happening.

All he could do was endure the agony in his eye and obey the man’s voice.

Unlike the flustered women, the young man asked calmly:

“Tell us the fastest route to the Church of Fire. You’ll keep your life.”

“T-the Church of Fire? You mean the main cathedral?”

“Yes.”

Altmann swallowed hard.

He imagined the Fire pendant around his neck burning hot.

“I can’t betray the goddess I serve. Just behead me.”

Then a youthful female voice spoke:

“What are you doing? He’s asking to die!”

“…Lady Kaia. You shouldn’t kill people so casually. You really should fix that habit.”

“A human dares to lecture me? Truly the end of days.”

“Y-y-yeah! The end of days—who else’s fault!?”

“You shut up.”

“Hieek!”

Altmann was confused.

‘Kaia?’

He’d heard that name somewhere before.

It felt oddly familiar.

‘Surely not…’

Pushing aside distractions, Altmann focused—

he had to spread word of this ambush somehow.

He couldn’t die here.

‘I’ll definitely survive and propose to Mary of the Black Roof.’

He imagined a happy home with Mary, three children: first a son, then a daughter, the third whatever.

‘Their names…’

Hope for that future flooded him with unexpected strength and courage.

‘I can be a hero.’

If he triumphed here, repelling these intruders, he’d be promoted—maybe even command his own unit.

Higher pay meant a house, stability…

…which meant Mary would much more likely accept his proposal.

His resolve hardened. Fire coursed through his heart.

‘May the fire of my mother watch over me, Goddess Agnia!’

Altmann gritted his teeth and shouted:

“Hyaaaah!”

He twisted like a marten, rolling swiftly—

then snatched his sword and slashed the late-charging man’s ankle.

“Agh!”

Blood gushed from the man’s heel. He collapsed, immobilized.

Only two remained: the girl named Kaia,

and the sobbing lunatic.

“This—is self-defense!”

The lunatic drew her sword and charged.

Altmann dodged her first strike with agility, sidestepped, and thrust his blade.

Pook!

Hot blood poured from the madwoman’s side.

“Aaah! Aaah…!”

She collapsed, groaning—

frantically trying to stuff her spilling entrails back in, still weeping even as she died.

“You crazy woman, seriously.”

Whack!

Altmann kicked the hysterical woman away, then glared at the girl called ‘Kaia.’

“A brat?”

Only now did he clearly see her—

a child, barely ten years old, unrealistically pretty, staring at him with cold, wide eyes.

Noting her peculiar spiral-patterned pupils, Altmann said:

“I don’t kill children—especially girls.”

Kaia scoffed as if he were absurd.

“How needlessly kind.”

“Heh—men like you marry well and gain popularity.”

Altmann relaxed.

Even if the girl charged, he could just shove her away with his foot.

‘I’ve subdued the intruders. I’m a hero now.’

Altmann grinned drunkenly, put the horn to his lips, inhaled deeply till his chest felt ready to burst, and blew with all his might.

Pweeeeo, pweeeeo…

“Pooo— Pooo—”

* * *

“What is this guy doing?”

Arwen tapped the guard, who lay on the ground miming horn-blowing.

Kaia, seated casually on the guard’s back like a chair, answered:

“He’s just seeing illusions. I merely disrupted his mind.”

“Whoa…! Truly the Goddess of Chaos!”

“Goddess of Chaos—or Evil God of Chaos—or Goddess of Order? Pick one, Arwen.”

“Eeek!”

“Is he really okay?”

Sion checked the condition of the other unconscious guard.

“When did you ever care about becoming a purified deity? You’re the one who made me use Chaos power!”

“Well, that’s that. We still have a job to do.”

“Annoying brat.”

Kaia shot a glare at the willful Sion, then sighed.

“He’ll wake from a sweet dream in a few days. I restrained my power—so at most, two weeks.”

“Hmm.”

Sion lifted Altmann’s eyelid to check his pupil.

It was dilated, covering the eyeball—but he’d likely survive.

“Pooo, pooo— Mary! Mary! Will you marry me!?”

The guard kept blowing his horn, drooling.

Sion’s heart softened—he looked so pitiful.

“What kind of dream is he having?”

Kaia shrugged and walked past Sion.

“Leave him. He must be having a good dream.”

Sion and Arwen rose to follow Kaia.

Silence fell wherever Kaia walked.

The Goddess who’d transformed from chaos to order brought calm to the world.

“What do you feel? The shard?”

Kaia stared at distant lights beyond the watchtower.

Sion nodded.

“It’s moving toward the Church of Fire’s main base—they’ve probably already secured it.”

“Ugh. This just got complicated. If Agnia uses Eru’s power, it’ll surely be a catastrophe.”

Sion and Arwen exchanged glances.

“What will happen?”

“She could burn the entire world with stronger fire—

chaos, order… even the very concepts governed by the goddesses.”

“Even concepts?”

Kaia turned and began descending the watchtower stairs.

Sion and Arwen naturally followed.

“If Agnia falls, she’ll become the Evil God of Ash. She’ll burn everything—leaving only ashes behind. A terrifying power.”

“Yeah.”

“All the other Goddesses have gone mad too. The absolute power of Eru—just possessing that shard could grant the strength to become Sovereign.”

Sion asked:

“Lady Kaia… do you no longer have desires?”

Kaia glared at him—

a venomous look that said, ‘You know exactly why you’re asking that.’

“You have surprisingly foul tastes.”

“Huh?”

“…I was punished because I gave in to desire.”

“Oh.”

Kaia stopped, annoyed.

She disliked this Sion fellow.

She wanted to curse him right then—

but Achille stood nearby, arms crossed, ready to scold her the moment she criticized her Apostle.

[I am watching.]

‘This crazy Apostle-worshipper.’

[You couldn’t possibly understand devotion.]

Pouting, Kaia jerked her chin at Sion.

“Lead the way. We must strike before Agnia fully absorbs the shard’s power.”

“Yes.”

* * *

“Lady Anarantis!”

“Speak.”

Anarantis, the new Apostle of Fire succeeding Mattis, closed her book and answered.

Having inherited the title from her father, the burden on her shoulders was immense.

Rest was a luxury.

She spent her mornings training and her nights immersed entirely in the Holy Scripture of Fire.

But recent developments had frayed her nerves.

“Five watchtowers have already lost contact!”

“Again?”

“Yes. No casualties—only guards showing signs of mental instability.”

“Direction?”

“The main cathedral.”

Anarantis sighed softly and rose.

It was time to respond.

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