Chapter 19
Chapter 19
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: Atra Follower 1
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*Shing!*
Midiam had already drawn her dagger and unleashed the secret art of the Flower-Bird-Wind-Moon Mistletoe, vanishing from right before their eyes.
In that "Ah!" instant, she was suddenly astride the back of one of Azadin's classmates, pressing her blade against his throat.
"What?!"
"You bastard..."
Everyone was stunned by Midiam's audacity—even Azadin was shocked.
'I figured she was up to something, but I never imagined she'd go this far!'
As everyone panicked, Midiam's young but razor-sharp voice rang out.
"Hey. You servants, you think you can keep sniping at the Herald like that?"
"Ah, no, little miss?"
In that moment, Midiam's blade trembled.
*Swish!*
With the sound of skin parting, blood seeped out.
"Little miss? Can't you read the room? I'm from the Etar Bloodline. You think a servant like you can talk down to me?"
"Ah..."
"What? You don't like the Herald? Then challenge him yourself before insulting him. Win, and you could become a Herald. Why skulk around sniping instead of challenging him outright? What, you gonna take turns among yourselves? Hilarious. You think a Herald's that easy a mark?"
The merchant guild members flinched at Midiam's murderous demeanor.
She looked ready to kill.
Strictly speaking, Midiam was right. Heralds took priority, and the merchant guild existed solely to support them—gathering information and funds for that purpose.
But the guild operators thought differently. The Emperor was dead anyway, and Herald duties were just curse-enforced drudgery with no real meaning anymore. What mattered was money, and the social clout—and thus power—it brought.
In any organization, those who brought in the cash ended up as the real bosses.
Even so, the guild never openly disrespected Heralds—except for Azadin. And Midiam had shoved the rules right in their faces over that very point.
"What's your duty? To support the Herald's mission for the Emperor on behalf of the clan, right? So why are you insulting a Herald like you're somebody? How does that serve your duty?"
"No, that's not..."
"If you hate Azadin but lack the skill to duel him, then keep it to yourself. Smile nicely like you do when dealing with the Hybris people. Can't even manage that? Then you're not fit to be a servant. Go farm in the sanctuary or die by my hand right now. Dreaming big when you can't even handle a kid who isn't even a Herald!"
Midiam snorted and withdrew her blade from the servant's throat, slipping back to Azadin's side in an instant.
"Ugh..."
"Damn it!"
Azadin's old classmates finally snapped out of it, hesitating over whether to rush her.
But...
"Hey, that girl's... Etar."
"Yeah, right?"
"Damn. We can't touch an Etar from our position."
"Tch."
Azadin's classmates swallowed their anger, reminded that Midiam was of the Etar Bloodline.
"There's a cloak right here. How about throwing this on?"
Ignoring Azadin's gawking classmates, Midiam snatched up a cloak from the caravan's display goods.
"That'll do."
Azadin took it and headed to the bathing area behind the caravan camp.
*********
"Azadin's here?"
The leader of the Kolasar Merchant Guild's southern caravan was a man named Derek. Originally from the Saban House—one of the Herald Clan's founding Bloodlines—he too had once been an Emperor's Herald.
But he'd ambushed the Herald Clan's rising star, Araelle, only to suffer a grievous counterattack. His ankle, shattered in a compound fracture, never fully healed, leaving him unable to continue as a Herald.
For that incident, the Saban House had disowned him to a branch family, stripping him of his Herald qualifications.
It was a humiliating punishment—but also a merciful one.
Herald infighting was discouraged, even with just cause. Derek's attack on Araelle had been purely personal, and defeat meant he had no grounds to complain even if killed.
Thanks to the Saban House's powerful backing, though, Derek had transitioned to merchant life and carried on.
"Yes, Azadin's arrived. He's requested some basic maintenance, which we've granted for now."
"Grant it. Supporting Heralds is the merchant guild's mission."
"You sure? That guy's the one who skipped procedure and became a Herald three months ago out of nowhere. Everyone hates him."
"It's fine. How long can he strut around as a Herald anyway? Didn't the Etar Bloodline daughter show up claiming to be his attendant? Bet she's here for a duel. Bold little thing. Trying to match Araelle's record and become a Herald at thirteen?"
Derek grinned slyly.
Araelle's record tied—broken by her own brother Azadin. But this time, Azadin on the losing end.
For Derek, who loathed Araelle, it painted a perfect picture. But the servant reporting to him faltered.
"Uh, about that."
"What?"
"That Etar daughter just caused a scene in the tent."
"A scene? What do you mean?"
"Apparently she slashed the throats of Azadin's classmates who were insulting him?"
"What?"
Derek groaned at the news. The implications were clear: the Etar daughter Midiam had become Azadin's attendant.
"Hmm? Heard he was some straggler idiot, but he fended off an Etar daughter? Or maybe she checked his skills and held off on the duel to confirm?"
Derek pondered Midiam's intentions.
A brash girl who'd come to claim the Herald spot via duel. To Derek, Midiam seemed arrogantly confident she could beat someone like Azadin.
No matter Azadin's unpopularity among the Herald Clan, an Emperor's Herald deserved respect. A freshly trained girl challenging one disrupted clan hierarchy—conservatives wouldn't approve.
But Derek had guided her here eagerly. If Azadin lost to Midiam, it'd shame him and tarnish Araelle by association.
Yet here she was, dutifully attending him.
"Probably gauging the situation since outright dueling would be too reckless. Or maybe she actually likes him. She'll be Herald material by the solstice festival anyway."
"Is that so? Hm. Thought she was just some reckless scatterbrain, but she plays it smart after all. So what’s Azadin up to?"
"Bathing."
"Yeah? Then invite him to dinner and call him over."
"Got it."
The underlings left to relay Derek's message to Azadin.
*********
The caravan camp consisted of numerous tents, and Azadin had set up bathtubs in two of them for his bath.
Azadin handed his laundry to the servants and sank into the tub.
"Uh, Lord Azadin?"
One servant approached. His deferential manner suggested he was a hireling under the Herald Clan, not an Aragas clansman.
"What is it?"
"Lord Derek invites you to dinner."
"Derek? Fine. I have things to say anyway."
Azadin accepted the dinner invitation.
In the caravan's central lavish tent, Derek was already eating.
"You invited me to dinner? And you don't even wait for the guest?"
Azadin stared incredulously at Derek, who had started without him.
"Yeah, got a head start. Sit down."
Derek wiped his mouth casually and gestured to a seat—pointedly the low one. Azadin sighed at the blatant insult.
"Derek."
"Put up with it. Your attendant attacked Kolasar Merchant Guild members, right? You knew they were Saban House employees when she did it?"
That was the problem.
To the Herald Clan, Heralds came first—rank transcending bloodlines.
Like past exam success or merit-based office, rising above humble origins.
But the Five Founding Bloodlines and their businesses focused on money, profits, and the power they generated. They prioritized house prestige over Herald honor.
Ignoring it sparked too much backlash to get anything done.
"Fine. Midiam was rude today, so I'll stomach the rudeness toward me."
Midiam wasn't really his attendant, but Azadin took responsibility for her actions and ate the food Derek offered.
"Cut to the chase. Recently dealt with an ogre pack and goblins..."
"You?"
"Got this."
Azadin placed the bone wand on the table.
"Ever seen it before?"
"Oh, this."
Derek nodded.
"The regional manager called about that very thing, Azadin. The Kurt Divine Clan cultists are hunting New King Scripture copies... and this is the tool they use to track them."
"Looks like everyone knew."
"Yeah. You don't report to the regional manager properly, so you're the only one out of the loop."
"They all itch to insult me the second they see me. Why would I show up?"
"And yet here you are."
"Happened along the way."
"Anyway, bringing this wand's solid merit. Good job. Did those guys have a New King Scripture?"
"Nope. Not on them."
"Yeah? You say it like you snagged one elsewhere."
"I did. Guess the other Heralds didn't?"
"......"
Derek's eyes widened at Azadin's words.
"Why?"
"You... got a New King Scripture copy?"
"Just one page."
Stunned, Derek's jaw dropped, then he hiccuped.
"Wh-where from?"
"Hm, reaction says everyone's striking out, huh?"
"Where! How!"
"Bottom of a well in an abandoned pioneering village in the eastern interior."
"Yeah? Damn. That easy?"
"Not exactly a cakewalk."
Without the ghosts guiding him, he'd never have found it even draining the well. But he had no desire to spill the details.
"So yeah, having a New King Scripture copy gets you tracked by this wand, right? If we're collecting them, we need a way to dodge that."
"More importantly, if you have a copy, hand it over."
Derek demanded the New King Scripture copy from Azadin. But Azadin sensed something off in Derek's desperate tone.