Farewell to the Queen Spider
"To think you'd leave like this... How regrettable. O Agent of the Gods."
It was the crack of dawn, the hour when the administrator of Ruinxen would normally be passed out drunk in his district. Yet there he stood at the city gates, alongside the city's mistress, Queen Spider Ralka.
"I told you there was no need for this."
"Even so, how could we let you depart alone? We've slipped a little spending money into your pack. Use it on the road."
The glossy black horse waiting at the gates—one Ralka had prepared—looked magnificent at a glance.
"Thanks for the trouble. Keep Mahal Arram here in the city until I give the word. Don't send him out to the desert. If he doesn't listen, make him listen. You know what I mean?"
"Of course. It's what we do best."
"And keep a close eye on the Holy Kingdom's movements. They'll have one of two reactions. If they don't trust the Black Spider's word, they'll stay quiet. Otherwise, they'll march here to Ruinxen with their Holy Knights."
"How shall we inform you?"
"Don't worry. I'll be back here before that happens. If the worst comes to pass, show them this."
Adel pulled out the ring he'd taken from the Queen Spider's report.
The moment Ralka saw the Platinum Ring, her expression stiffened slightly.
"...So you've found it."
"As Kalderet's contractor, how could I not know?"
"Indeed. I see."
Ralka spoke with a hint of embarrassment.
"I worry that my past betrayals might twist my current sincerity. But I've received the grace of corruption and gained new enlightenment."
"I know. Better than anyone. Don't worry."
At Adel's reassurance, Ralka's face softened with relief. There was no reason for him to doubt the loyalty of someone who had been his fiercest devotee even in his previous life.
"The Holy Kingdom, which serves the high god of the sun, Leart, shares the same lineage as the Nell Church, which follows the pure-blood high god Nephrem."
Adel looked at her.
"But with no saintess in the Nell Church right now, that's the biggest issue. Even a fool won't take you lightly after seeing that ring. It'll buy you plenty of time."
Ralka marveled at his airtight plan, flawless as ever, but let out a quiet sigh at the sight of her past treasure.
"Thank you. But now that this ring is out in the world, it no longer belongs to me."
"Then?"
"Please take it with you, Lord Adel. If it could remain hidden forever, that would be one thing... but this must be fate."
"You sure?"
"Just return before things get bad enough that we need to use it. That's the faith of we who follow the ancient god."
Kalderet nodded approvingly, shaking his mane lightly.
That was the face not of Ruinxen's Queen Spider, but of Kalderet's pious follower.
"Got it."
Hiiing—!!!
Gripping the reins, Adel leaned in and murmured low enough for only Ralka to hear.
"If someone from the desert comes looking for me, tell them I chased after Mahal and headed to the Holy Kingdom. They won't move rashly there."
Nine times out of ten, anyone hunting him would be Merka's men. With the sun god—one of the deities the Forgotten Ones feared most—watching over it, even they wouldn't act lightly.
"I'll remember."
"Alright then."
With her vow secured, Adel spurred the horse's flanks. The sturdy black steed bolted off at tremendous speed.
* * *
Hiiing—!!!
Racing along the main road, Adel veered into the forest that led to the slave city. The dense woods were deeper than expected; even the robust black horse Ralka had given him struggled to push through.
"That's far enough. Good job."
Adel yanked the reins, dismounting as the horse halted.
"Smart beast—you'll remember the way back, right? Thanks to you, it was a smooth ride."
He poured the last of his waterskin into the horse's mouth, then gave its rump a light pat.
Clop-clop-clop—
The black horse nodded as if understanding, then trotted back the way they'd come.
A useful beast, even if a mere animal.
"Won't need it on the way back."
It's a long way to the desert on foot.
"Not walking. We'll fly back."
Adel answered Kalderet's question with a sly smile.
"Let's go."
Why sneak through here instead of the proper road?
Following Adel deeper into the woods, Kalderet batted irritably at the poking branches with his front paws.
"Cratel's two days that way. We'll enter the city through here."
Why ditch the clear road for a rat hole?
"Because this is the rats' den."
Adel pressed a finger to his lips, signaling silence.
"Rats don't stroll the open roads."
Clang—!Clang-clang—!!
As if in answer, the clash of weapons echoed from deeper in the forest.
"Hey!! What the hell is this?!"
"What is this? You know damn well. You're done as a slaver. Though you'll be dead here anyway."
"You bastard... You dare steal my merchandise?"
"Steal? Nah, I'm taking it. Your caravan ends today. Orders from above."
"Shut up!!!"
A tattooed brute and his gang clashed with a slender man like a white snake and his crew in a brutal melee.
Pathetic scum, both sides.
"Yeah. And they're not the only ones. This forest crawls with small-time crooks like them. Slave-snatching happens all the time here."
"The owner of this place. Cratel's main roads are for customers only. Slave traders have to cut through here—and none of 'em are legit."
Fake merchants, no better than bandits. In a forest teeming with them, clashes were inevitable.
The boss wants to look clean on the surface?
"Eh, slavers are trash, but buyers aren't much better. Flashy on the outside, still filth heading into Cratel."
He itched to sweep in through the front gates, butchering the buyers first.
'But not till I find the kid with the demon core. Can't stir up too much noise.'
Gates required papers. Blending with slave traders was the plan.
Infiltrate the survivors' caravan.
Claaang—!!!
As blades rang out, Adel eyed Kalderet.
"Right. Tattoo guy or snake bastard—which one first?"
If I had my way.
Adel chuckled.
"Same here."
Creaaak...
He drew back the string of the Lion Bow with all his might.
Shuuuk—!!
The sharp whistle cut the air as the arrow slammed into the tattooed man's head mid-swing.
"Gah!!!"
With a dying screech, the arrow's force hurled his body back, impaling it on a tree.
"Wh-who goes there!!!"
The snake-like man, seeing his foe drop in one hit, yelled in shock.
"I help, and that's the thanks I get? Kinda hurts."
Adel stepped out from the brush. The brawling soldiers froze, staring at him.
"You killed Bamol...?"
'One shot caved his skull... From a kid like that?'
The snake-man tilted his head, eyeing Adel's unexpectedly young frame.
"Bamol, huh? Then you are?"
"Name's Yulta. Thanks for the assist. Impressive skills. What brings you here...?"
"Looking for someone. Slave girl who came through about a month ago. Young, no coming-of-age rite. Mahal Arram from the Chan Kingdom bought her. Probably stashed here instead of taking her."
"You want me to find your slave girl? Haha, kid, I'm Yulta—no one's dog. You think you can boss me around?"
"Yeah?"
Thwack—!!
Adel smashed his bow into Yulta's nape with full force. A sickening crack echoed as the man's neck snapped grotesquely.
"Next."
Stepping over the corpse, Adel called out.
"Won't wait long. Who's next in the chain of command?"
"M-me!!"
"Name?"
"Siman, sir."
A pale man in the group raised his hand, voice trembling.
"Good. Siman—talk."
"F-first... We'd check the slave exchange records. Normally impossible, but with Lord Yulta's seal, we could."
"Seal? Didn't peg him for a big shot in the city."
Adel glanced at the silently slain Yulta.
"Y-yes, sir. Only merchants approved by Lord Durka, Cratel's master, get them."
"Hm. That 'orders from above' bit when he fought the tattoo guy... Yeah."
"Exactly. Lord Yulta was one of Durka's five confidants."
"'Lord'? Trash slaver... Cut the crap and listen up. I'll use you lot to get inside the city. You in?"
"Th-that's..."
"Durka or me—who scares you more?"
"...Pardon?"
Stab—!!
Adel drove a poisoned dart into Siman's shoulder.
"Gahk!!!"
"Blade's laced with deadly venom. So, who now?"
"What the—!!"
Grabbing Siman's collar and yanking his face close, Adel whispered so only he heard.
"I'm from the desert. Desert hunters don't bluff—you know that."
"I-I'll help!! Please, let me! I'll find her, just spare me!!"
Siman sensed no lie in Adel's eyes.
'What kind of kid has eyes like that...'
A lifetime slaver guilty of every sin imaginable, yet he felt like prey before a predator—couldn't even meet Adel's gaze.
"Problem is, our caravan's fine, but Bamol's men won't listen to me."
"Don't care."
Shuuuk—!!!
Adel flung the dart; it buried in a Bamol thug's throat behind Siman.
"...Gasp?!"
Siman held his breath instinctively.
"Kill 'em all."
"Wh-what the hell!!"
Bamol's men paled, shouting.
"You're the scum snatching people to sell. If not for this, I'd have slit every throat already."
Gulp.
Siman clutched his own neck, swallowing hard.
"Screw up, and you're next."
Adel rifled casually through Yulta's corpse for the seal.