Chapter 64: Companion

“Hmm…”

The knight commander rubbed his chin with a regretful expression.

“With your skills, you’d be better suited working with Lord Sarah on larger operations. We’ll need strong aura users for the all-out war against the Giants… Lord Sarah is currently clearing a field in the Black Marsh. We’re passing nearby, so how about traveling together?”

“Sounds good.”

“Wait until we finish cleaning up here.”

“Sure.”

The commander walked off wearily.

Ion, with plenty to think about, cleared some pillar debris and sat down.

“Dam Ion, I’m hungry,” Baba said, fluttering onto Ion’s lap.

“Gimme banana.”

“I’ll ask for food when they’re done.”

“They got food. Heard them talking.”

“…You understand Idea’s language?”

“Yup.”

“…”

“I can talk too.”

“Go ahead.”

“Dam Ion, gimme banana. Hungry. This place stinks. Wanna wash. Gimme water.”

Its pronunciation was better than Ion’s.

The Giants must’ve taught the chimera Idea’s language during creation.

But Ion couldn’t ask grieving soldiers, busy with cleanup, for food. Promising Baba food later, he sank back into thought.

Idea’s situation was serious but not as dire as expected—no need for deep concern. Helping Sarah Harundas hold off the Giants for two months would suffice.

The real issue wasn’t Idea but what happened before arriving—the divine realm.

‘Divinity detected. Automatically redirecting to divine realm.’

The teleportation crystal, an artifact blessed by the Demon God, explained the divinity detection. Even non-awakened occasionally saw system messages with certain items, so that made sense.

But…

‘What do we do? We can’t kick it out.’

‘Report to the Apostle.’

Apostle.

That wasn’t a word to overlook.

Teacher often shared things with Ion she didn’t tell the other orphans.

That day was no different. She’d taken him far from the orphanage and said:

“Child, there are beings called Apostles. Bound to gods, living solely for them. With a gesture, they can destroy a world. Terrifying, absolute beings.”

“But the novel doesn’t mention Apostles.”

“Not mentioned doesn’t mean they don’t exist. Black holes aren’t visible, but we know they’re there from the warped spacetime around planets. Apostles are like that.”

“So, we infer an Apostle’s presence from something warped?”

“Quick to understand.”

“What’s warped by them?”

“The entire world.”

“…”

“Demon Realm, Earth, Idea… all warped by an Apostle’s touch. That’s called the Cataclysm.”

Ion couldn’t help asking:

“Is an Apostle the system?”

Teacher shook her head.

“The system is merely their tool. Apostles transcend it. Living yet lifeless, emotionless objects. Jesters born for the gods, doing anything to alleviate divine boredom. That’s why they’re not in the novel.”

“I don’t fully get it. How do I deal with them?”

She laughed as if he’d said something absurd, her expression like watching a puppy howl.

“There’s no defying them. I’m not telling you to act—just remember. Apostles exist, absolute and undefeatable. Just know that.”

“Why tell only me, not the others?”

“Because you alone need to know.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to. Just remember. Let’s go back. No dinner tonight.”

“…!”

Young Ion’s eyes widened at the bombshell. What did I do wrong? he pleaded with teary eyes. Teacher replied lightly:

“Just felt like starving you. Maybe tomorrow too…”

“…”

Ion recalled that day.

I really went hungry that night…

The other orphans glanced at him while eating, but none asked why he alone was punished—it wasn’t uncommon.

Snapping out of the memory, Ion fixated on the Apostle.

Were the divine realm’s voices part of the Apostle’s ‘tools,’ like the system? More precisely, the Apostle’s creations…

‘No killing until the Apostle orders it.’

That implied they would kill eventually.

What happens if an Apostle’s creations start killing? If the system aimed to exterminate humanity?

Horrifying.

But the novel never mentioned ‘Apostles.’ Instead of doom, the Demon King was defeated, and peace followed.

Why did Teacher tell me about Apostles?

The question, unimportant until the divine realm, now gnawed at him.

After the fallen’s funeral, they left the Mage’s Tower to join the main force.

Commander Minwi Helen led thirty-two Aura Reactors, five Aura Experts, two aura mages, and five mages—roughly Earth’s B-rank dungeon raid team.

The other Experts weren’t at the Tower because monsters had ravaged nearby villages, requiring support.

Only two royal knight platoons remained in the capital, all far off, unable to keep up with field seal breaks.

Minwi, cut off from royal communication, said awkwardly, “It’s a three-day trip to the Black Marsh, but we’ve got orders to suppress monsters in two villages with broken seals en route. Could take up to fifteen days.”

“When did Lord Sarah’s party enter the Black Marsh field?”

“A week ago.”

So, at least ten days before they’d emerge.

“With casualties, we’re shorthanded. An Aura Master like you would reassure the troops. Please join us.”

“I’ll come along and split off when the time’s right.”

“Good call. Zieg!”

Minwi called a curious onlooker—a cheerful man with short hair and a scar by his mouth.

Zieg Frizen, twenty-five, currently an Aura Expert, later an Aura Master after joining Sarah Harundas—a supporting character.

Zieg approached, chewing grass like gum.

“Yup, Uncle, you called?”

“Call me Commander in formal settings. Master Ion, my nephew, Zieg Frizen. Twenty-five and still immature, but his skills rival the best in our knights. Zieg, this is Master Ion, an Aura Master aura mage. Treat him with respect.”

“Yup. Nice to meet ya, Master Ion.”

“Likewise, Sir Zieg.”

“Ugh, drop the ‘Sir.’ Just Zieg. Gives me chills.”

Zieg rubbed his arms, his quiver rattling at his waist, a Western-style bow on his back.

“Ask Zieg for info. Zieg, get Master Ion a horse.”

“Yup, Uncle.”

“Not Uncle—ugh, when will you grow up?”

Minwi shook his head and left.

Zieg led Ion to the horses.

“How old are you, Master? Look younger than me.”

“Twenty.”

“Wanna drop formalities?”

“You can. I’m comfy with formal speech.”

“I’ve met few Iliand folks—arrogant types with noses in the sky. But you’re, like, super polite.”

He seemed convinced Ion was from Iliand.

“Why think I’m from Iliand?”

“Pfft, your accent’s pure Iliand. Gotta be blind not to notice.”

Though using the common tongue, each nation had slight accent differences. Teacher’s possessed body was Iliand, so Ion’s accent, learned from her, was naturally Iliand.

“Why carry that pot instead of storing it in subspace?”

“My travel buddy, Sansevieria.”

“Oh, the bat’s Sansevieria? Weird one, sitting on leaves instead of hanging.”

“No, the plant’s Sanse. The bat’s just baggage.”

“Not baggage. My name’s Baba.”

The bat on Sanse’s leaves flapped and spoke. Zieg jumped like he’d seen a ghost.

“Whoa! It talks?”

“I talk. Fluently.”

“Damn, Master, you’ve got a familiar!”

Ion had warned Baba not to speak in front of others on Earth, but in Idea, it was fine—familiars existed here.

Familiars, animals bound by mages, gained intelligence and could communicate or even use magic if granted.

“What’s a familiar?”

“You, dummy. You. I’m human, you’re a familiar.”

“You’re wrong. I’m a chi—”

Ion’s green eyes flashed a warning. Baba caught the hint.

“Maybe I’m a familiar. I’m hungry. Starving.”

“Wow, super fluent. Seen familiars with ancient language drilled in, but never one this chatty in the common tongue. You teach it, Master?”

“Yeah… sure.”

The Giants taught it, but sure.

Zieg extended a finger, and Baba fluttered onto it. Zieg examined it from all angles. Baba, rolling its eyes, suddenly shrank and drooped pitifully.

“I’m hungry.”

“What do bats eat? Not blood, right?”

“Got banana?”

“Banana? Got some.”

“Gimme banana.”

Zieg glanced at Ion for approval. Unsure if Idea’s bananas matched Earth’s, Ion nodded.

Zieg returned with a banana—yellow, peeled, sweet, identical to Earth’s.

The novel took the easy route.

Ion’s disdain for the author resurfaced, but Baba’s food was sorted, so all was well.