Chapter 132
Chapter 132
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 132
Chapter Title: Sinking Ship 2
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“Sir Zevec?”
“Sir Ject will probably chase after us—what do you plan to do?”
“For now, I’ll stop by the Corasari Merchant Guild to gather information and make contact to report to the higher-ups. It’d be a hassle for you, right? Shall we part ways here?”
“Don’t say that, Azadin. To be honest, as long as Sir Ject is still out there unscathed, I’m not safe anywhere. I’ll stick with you for a while. Even if I do, it’s not breaking my vows as a holy knight of the Church of the King.”
“Why?”
“Didn’t you say your sister is of imperial blood?”
Azadin’s group had overheard outside the room when Araelle, annoyed by Young Lord Adler’s arrogance over his own lineage, declared that she herself was of imperial blood.
“If your twin sister is, then you must be too.”
“Doesn’t the Church of the King tremble at the mention of the Emperor?”
“Even so, it’s still noble blood.”
“Noble blood, what nonsense…. You’re fine most of the time, but sometimes you seem a bit dim. Is it because you’re from the Church of the King?”
Azadin could tell Zevec was struggling to reconcile his identity as a holy knight—his ego and the values he’d built over years of service—with following Azadin.
He knew it wasn’t ignorance on Zevec’s part; it was just a way to soften the shock of dismantling and rebuilding his worldview, so Azadin decided to tolerate it.
‘Holy knights really are a severe case. What can you do? That’s what makes them holy knights. If he abandoned his old doctrines too easily and switched sides, that would just mean his faith wasn’t deep to begin with.’
Meanwhile, Scott collided with another drunken man staggering around while riding his wheelchair.
“Eek, ouch! What the hell? Why’s a cripple riding this thing and bumping into people? Ow, I’m hurt. Pay for my treatment, you bastard.”
The drunk lay sprawled out but sprang up when Zevec glared at him.
“Oh dear. If you’re with a holy knight, you should’ve said so.”
“Damn it. People here don’t give wheelchairs any consideration at all! These idiots! Don’t they know that someone with physical disabilities can still possess brilliant intellect, and that their genes should be passed on to future generations to unlock the full potential of their race?”
As Scott vented his frustration, Azadin replied.
“First off, you’re not one of our kind, and second, you’re not in a wheelchair because you’re disabled—you just ride it because you don’t want to use your muscles, right?”
“With my perfect physique, even I can’t walk around in a wheelchair, so imagine how tough it must be for someone actually injured and mobility-impaired. Hmph.”
As Scott spoke, Azadin came to a stop.
It was the commercial district where the guild branches clustered. The cheap dockside taverns for laborers gave way to night patrols by the guards, changing the street’s atmosphere entirely.
“Sir Zevec, wait here nearby for now.”
Great minds attract allies. Azadin had brushed off the reason for having a holy knight tag along, but arriving at an unfamiliar branch with one in tow would inevitably be troublesome.
“Understood.”
“Good. Then take care of Scott and Shati too.”
Azadin left Scott and Shati with Zevec and headed to the Corasari Merchant Guild office.
*********
“Still….”
Azadin frowned.
“I boasted to Sir Guillaumevalt that the Senate would lift my curse.”
Azadin grumbled as he eyed the Corasari Merchant Guild office in Lantarik.
The former herald from the Merchant Guild whom they’d seen in Salas—Derek—and the 106th Herald Callipso, whom Azadin had defeated, were staying at the Lantarik guild headquarters.
“It’s Azadin. Hmm. We tried looking for those orphans you requested, but you’d already taken them.”
Azadin had asked Callipso to find and protect the children born to a woman persecuted as a heretic mistaken for a herald clansman, as well as other children traded as slaves. But Azadin had found them first and entrusted them to the Merchant Guild.
“Yeah. We were headed the same way. But you’re getting casual with me all of a sudden?”
When Azadin had beaten Callipso before, she’d called him “senior” and acted deferential. Yet after a short separation, here she was slipping into informal speech.
“What? What’re you talking about?”
“Never mind.”
It wasn’t like being called “senior” by Callipso created or erased any problems, and Azadin had no interest in nitpicking such a trivial matter, so he shook his head.
“Anyway, if you handled it first, you could’ve at least sent word. You’re wasting our time.”
“I told you to pass it through the Merchant Guild. Guess the message didn’t get through.”
“Ah, right. Things have been tense within our clan lately.”
“So what brings you here?”
“Araelle has put a bounty on Aldis Jedaha. Beyond that, she ordered us to capture and persuade any Senate heralds or families we encounter—or eliminate or track them if persuasion fails. Thanks to that, some are diligently chasing Aldis Jedaha, but I’m just slacking off appropriately.”
“Araelle….”
Azadin felt a twinge of discomfort at Callipso’s casual mention of following Araelle.
“You know I resisted her, right?”
Callipso nodded.
“I heard. Azadin, they say you rejected Lady Araelle’s grand cause out of petty grudge from childhood bullying? How small-minded.”
“Small-minded?”
Azadin bristled at Callipso calling him small-minded.
It wasn’t that simple. Sure, you could sum it up that way, but for the side urging forgiveness to label the refuser petty?
‘That makes it even more unforgivable.’
Azadin stared at Callipso in disbelief.
“The Senate and the Five Great Bloodlines are already a sinking ship. They’ve ruled Arakasa all this time but achieved nothing, and they can’t even present a firm vision like Lady Araelle. The clan’s future lies with her. Merchants have their own standing, so they hedge their bets, but I’ve decided to serve Lady Araelle with deep loyalty from my heart.”
“…….”
“By the way, what does Lady Araelle like? Do you happen to know any of her favorites?”
“I know what she hates, at least.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“You.”
With that, Azadin walked into the office. The people inside sorting documents recognized him.
At the largest desk sat the Lantarik branch chief, a middle-aged woman in neat attire wearing a monocle—a beauty with a stern demeanor.
She cleared her throat.
“Barging in like that. Normally, I wouldn’t meet a low-ranking herald myself, but as Lady Araelle’s brother, that changes things.”
She led with that point.
To the Arakasa clan, an Emperor’s Herald held the highest status. Everyone in the clan strove, competed, and challenged to become one.
But not everyone could.
Most ended up as servants or merchants, serving as the clan’s external organization. Even former heralds who aged or were injured and could no longer serve ended up in those roles.
Humans rationalize themselves, though. Those who desperately wanted to be heralds would, once they no longer could, claim their positions were equal to—or even superior to—heralds.
Merchants in particular wielded money, goods, and organization, so even active heralds needed their aid and deferred to them.
‘So she’s meeting me because I’m Araelle’s brother?’
The branch chief lowered her voice and said to Azadin.
“We haven’t decided who to support yet, but we don’t want to treat Lady Araelle’s brother poorly. State your request.”
“First, I want to report directly to the Senate, but since I lost the Emperor’s Voice… they suddenly sacked me out of nowhere?”
At first, he’d been furious at the Senate’s abrupt dismissal, but now he somewhat understood the situation.
Araelle was rapidly expanding her influence among the youth, and even the Four Winds of Grace and Pleasure—whom she’d raised as her lieutenants—had betrayed them.
If the Senate and Araelle’s faction clashed in full force right now, Azadin would bet on Araelle winning.
In that context, they’d want to shackle Azadin, Araelle’s brother, somehow.
‘And she’s publicly declared her love for me, it seems.’
Everyone looked at Azadin differently now.
Araelle’s beloved brother.
No doubt that’s what they all thought.
‘Makes things convenient, but it feels pathetic.’
“So, what’s your business? Araelle’s brother?”
The Lantarik branch chief asked Azadin.
“I want to meet a nearby elder.”
“We’d like that too.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“We’re neutral for now. But the Senate is in hiding because Araelle’s faction is rampant and targeting them. We can’t reach them currently.”
“Wait, hold on. So the Senate is afraid of Araelle’s faction?”
Azadin felt dizzy upon hearing that.
It had been centuries since Arakasa became a herald clan, and now that tradition was crumbling because of one person—Araelle?
“Then even if you declare neutrality, the elders won’t contact you either. How am I supposed to meet an elder or the leader?”
“That’s something I can’t help with. How about meeting Etar?”
“The Etar Bloodline?”
“Yes. In Corasari’s capital, Koral Sahar, the branch is run by Etar Bloodline members.”
Koral Sahar was the original name of the Corasari Kingdom.
Common folk just called it “Corasari,” but the branch chief deliberately used the archaic “Koral Sahar” to show off her refinement.
‘Then I should call it Asahdin too?’
Azadin found the branch chief’s pretentiousness in such trivial matters amusing, but since she was a beauty, it oddly didn’t bother him much.
Midiarm clapped her hands as the topic turned to the Etar Bloodline, something clicking in her mind.
“Ah. You mean Brother Zion.”
“Yes. The Etar Bloodline must still be in contact with the elders.”
In short, the Senate was currently in hiding, pushed back by Araelle’s faction.
Even if Azadin wanted to meet them to prove his innocence and lift the curse on his abdomen, they wouldn’t see him. They feared their position being exposed and getting purged by Araelle’s faction.
‘What the hell is going on? How did it come to this?’
“Hmm….”
Midiarm said, looking extremely perplexed.
“In this situation, wouldn’t it be wisest to just surrender to Araelle?”
Surrender to Araelle and figure out the servitude curse first—that’s what Midiarm suggested.
“I’d rather die.”
“That bad?”
“Midiarm. You’re Etar, and you’re telling me to join Araelle’s faction?”
“Not exactly… but if it’s the rational choice.”
Certainly….
Rationally, choosing Araelle—who would lift the servitude curse—was best.
And accepting her demanded apology. She offered money, power, even beauties.
Was only Azadin’s emotion blocking reconciliation with Araelle?
No, it wasn’t.
Azadin had noticed Araelle using Nether power when dealing with her.
Otherwise, she couldn’t heal wounds that quickly without divine magic.
However….
‘Claiming she uses Nether power without solid proof would just make me look ridiculous.’
There was no clear evidence. And given the current mood, plenty would support her regardless.
In the end, Azadin decided to head to the Corasari Kingdom’s capital, Koral Sahar, and excused himself from the meeting with the branch chief.