Not Bad, Apostle
"Hey, you're pretty good. Yeah, if you're Kakali's apostle, you should have that kind of skill..."
Tilia praised him with her words, but it burned inside. She'd chosen Elga Village as Yoahim's first battlefield because she figured he'd lose by a hair. A total blowout defeat would just garner pity. But losing a fight he could have won? That would prove his incompetence.
Tilia had planned to pick battlefields like this one to highlight Yoahim's uselessness—and strip him of Haellagos's trust.
But Yoahim was winning. Using necromancy she hadn't even imagined, without losing a single skeleton.
This way, I'm just padding his record!
Tilia sighed, her shoulders slumping. Yoahim smirked at the sight.
Teasing the sulky banshee might be fun, but now was time to focus on the fight.
I can summon twenty skeletons at once.
Yoahim raised them again with necromancy every time one or two fell. He'd equipped his oak staff and Ha Meks Han to max out his mana, just in case. As long as not all twenty dropped at once, holding the line was easy.
At first, their side fell fast, forcing quick responses. But as time passed, skeleton losses slowed. Eventually, they held the numerical edge.
Yoahim watched calmly. Once the last skeleton fell, he let out a quiet cheer.
A landslide victory.
The skeletons had done the direct fighting, but Yoahim still got EXP and leveled up. Halbert's skeletons, sure—but since he'd taken command, the system counted them as his subordinates.
At this rate, levels will climb fast.
This was just a skirmish now, but bigger battles loomed with tougher foes than skeletons. A few large-scale fights, and his level would skyrocket.
Not that I'm itching to risk my neck...
Yoahim shook his head, then turned to Tilia. "We won, but what now? This village?"
Gray smoke rose from houses, palisades lay crumbled, bone piles littered the ground. They'd recaptured Elga Village, but Yoahim knew that wasn't the end. Holding was harder than taking—simple truth.
"Just leave it. We're heading back."
"No garrison?"
"Nope."
Yoahim blinked at the casual reply. If no troops to hold it, why fight at all?
"Then why bother battling?"
"Forty-three."
"What?"
"It's been taken and retaken forty-three times."
Tilia twisted her pale face into something like a smile. "I told you—this war's about securing mana springs. A podunk village like this? It changes nothing. Take it or leave it."
Fuck, then why fight? Training whose mutt?
Yoahim swallowed the words rising in his throat. "What about the demon residents? Where do they go?"
"They're building a new village near Haellagoria. Lord Haellagos had troops construct it for them—no worries. Safer than here, even."
"Hey, then why recapture this place? Pointless."
"Pride. Can't just let them take it, right? Plus, it's live training. Great commanders aren't born—they're forged through experience."
War as a game? Ping-pong villages?
Yoahim couldn't wrap his head around it. Humans didn't fight like this. But the Withered Land's peculiarities—undead-heavy forces, mana springs over villages—made a twisted sense. Meaningless attrition? No big deal with expendable undead. Villages became free training grounds.
"Tomorrow, they'll probably send more from over there. Levia Castle's nearby. Recapturing it? Game-changer for us."
"Levia Castle?"
"Half-day from here. Mana spring behind it—must-have."
"Then why not take it?"
Tilia bristled at his offhand tone. "Think we're idiots just sitting on it?! Battles everywhere! And Levia's got a master necromancer—siege expert. We've hit it multiple times; no dice."
"No signs of them pushing first?"
"Huh?"
"Think. War's about mana spring count, right? Your spring's an hour from here. If they can march to this village from Levia, they could hit the spring if they wanted."
"That's why our scouts patrol it daily. No signs yet... but yeah, it's unnerving."
"Tough gig."
"Sarcasm?"
"Praise."
"...Feels backhanded."
Yoahim huffed in disbelief. Genuine compliment, too. Tilia really hated his guts.
"Let's head back."
Yoahim's unit marched to the mana spring as before, gated back to Haellagoria. The massive gate swung open; they swapped places with outgoing troops, just like departure.
"Send the skeletons to the infantry camp."
After complying, Yoahim glanced around. "Where's the temple?"
"Why?"
"My friends are there."
"Follow me. Not far."
Yoahim trailed obediently. Streets bustled with civilians alongside soldiers. Not all demons and dark elves were warriors—looks differed, but essence was human.
Yoahim wondered: did they deserve slaughter just for worshiping Kakali? Sasha said gods had no good or evil—only believers did. Spot on. Humans could be more demonic sometimes.
He'd felt that bone-deep since dropping into the game.
"Here's the temple."
Yoahim snapped from reverie, taking in the sight.
"Kakali's temple..."
Not what he'd expected. Demon-built? Must be grotesque. Wrong. It radiated sanctity. Pillars, foundation, roof—every statue, speck of dust—holy, reverent.
Here, Kakali wasn't a evil god. Death itself—worthy of awe.
"What? First temple? Such a hick."
Tilia sniped, but Yoahim ignored her, stepping inside slowly.
Kakali's form flickered.
Child.
"Gah!"
The voice in his head made Yoahim whirl, eyes wide. Nothing. Silence.
"You... okay? You're pale."
Even Tilia sounded worried—it wasn't normal.
Yoahim swallowed, raised a hand. "Fine."
"Intense..."
"The temple?"
"No."
Yoahim stared blankly. "Kakali."
"What?"
Tilia scowled, but he said nothing more. Overwhelmed by the lingering aura—a fraction of sealed power, yet dizzying. Nothing like dream encounters.
"Whew... nothing. Where do I find my friends?"
"That way."
The room held wounded, healers bustling. Leon and Sasha lay deepest in, still out cold.
Yoahim shook them awake; they groaned, eyes fluttering open.
"Ah! Apostle! You came to save us!"
Sasha lit up on seeing him. Leon, stirring slower, shook his head.
"Nah, Sasha. Usually it's 'Nope, got captured too.'"
"N-No way..."
Sasha deflated. Yoahim sighed.
"Sorry, not captured. This isn't Witchkill HQ anyway."
"Th-Then where?"
Yoahim turned, giving them the view. "Haellagos's territory. This is his adjutant, Tilia."
"Hmph. You two his minions? Dark elves, huh..."
They stiffened at "Haellagos's territory." Alkados let them live? Unconscious through details, they gawked.
"No way... Leon, look! Our kin!"
Sasha squealed, pointing at dark elf healers. Leon's eyes widened.
"So many dark elves..."
Post-seal, most converted to survive. Kakali faithful were rare—hunted like Leon and Sasha's clan.
"Hahaha, looks like these guys are shocked. Lord took in lost dark elves—now they thrive here."
"Haellagos..."
Leon and Sasha beamed. Kin sharing their faith—still so many.
Wait, are they ditching me for him?
Yoahim felt a twinge of unease, shook it off.
"Rest here. Got a banquet at Spire Tower."
"Got it, Apostle."
"Safe travels, Apostle."
Their deference eased him—they weren't jumping ship. He left the temple with Tilia.
"Bit early, but Spire Tower?"
Yoahim eyed the soaring tower, then told Tilia, "Report today's battle to Haellagos yourself."
"Me? Why?"
"You hate me. Your report—hater's word—carries more weight."
"Tch..."
Forced to tout his feats? Tilia grimaced openly.
Yoahim chuckled at her.