Chapter 204
Chapter 204
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 204
Chapter Title: Fall 2
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At that moment, another herald standing beside Hatir leaped forward and shielded him with his own body.
Of course, it wasn't just a simple block. He raised his black steel arrow from its traditional quiver to intercept the incoming shot, successfully defending Hatir in a shocking display.
The cost was a severe injury where his fingers were torn and severed, but for a perfect ambush like this, it was a bargain.
“Ugh!”
“Second Leader!”
“Tch.”
Hatir glanced toward the direction the arrow had come from. Azadin revealed himself at a second-floor window of the royal audience chamber.
“Ah, Azadin!”
“You bastard! How dare you against the Second Leader!”
The herald clan was outraged that one of their own had shot a black steel arrow at their Second Leader, but Azadin was equally stunned to see the heralds throwing themselves in harm's way to protect Hatir.
“Are you all insane? Throwing yourselves for the one who bound us with the curse of servitude!?”
“How dare you!”
“A traitor like you has no right to question us.”
The Aragasa were on the verge of salvation. Even if it wasn't through正当 means, they had endured unjust persecution for so long that they were blind to anything else.
The entire clan nocked their arrows toward Azadin at once. No matter who Azadin was, he couldn't dodge or block that many attacks. And a good number of them were black steel arrows.
‘How long have they been preparing? This many black steel arrows. Damn it.’
Azadin sensed death approaching.
-Whizz!
The arrows flew toward Azadin almost simultaneously.
Just as Azadin braced for death, something unexpected happened.
Manja-Zadek, whose massive frame was now more ogre than human, shielded Azadin with his own body.
“Y-Your Majesty!”
Azadin, who had been wary of Manja-Zadek's corrupted spirit, was deeply moved.
The clan was trying to kill him, yet this king—not even of their clan, but their enemy's—had thrown himself into the fray to save him.
“Don't worry about it. Isn't it the duty of the old to protect promising young talent? This bulked-up body is quite handy. It can take arrows just fine….”
It couldn't be fine.
The arrows embedded in his body were black steel arrows. Arrows that could blow an ogre's head clean off wouldn't fail to pierce just because he'd put on some weight.
Yet the black steel arrows hadn't penetrated Manja-Zadek because he'd gathered his spirituality to cast maximum defensive magic, and on top of that, he'd resorted to forbidden dark arts from the King's Church—blood magic.
He was already mortally wounded, but blood magic kept his body moving and stanched the bleeding from his injuries.
However….
“I was hoping to let you spend your remaining time in peace, but you're causing too much trouble.”
Hatir grumbled as he twisted his hand in the air.
The arrows lodged in Manja-Zadek's body began spinning violently. Like a school of carnivorous fish tearing into prey and thrashing about, the arrows writhed in unison, shredding his wounds.
“Gaaah!”
Manja-Zadek screamed. The blood magic sustaining his body shattered, and blood poured out like a waterfall.
The sudden blood loss sent him into convulsions, his eyes rolling back. Shock like that meant he had no chance of survival.
And so, Btuma's Golden King fell, having willingly sacrificed his body to protect a youth from the soulless impious clan.
“Urgh!”
Azadin scooped up the scattered black steel arrows around him and fired them rapidly at the Second Leader.
Even for the Second Leader, even for one with absolute power, black steel arrows were a serious threat.
But... the clan blocked Azadin's rapid barrage. They spared no effort to shield Second Leader Hatir.
‘Damn it!’
Azadin didn't want to kill his own clan. If he could just bring down Hatir, could he stop this horrific desecration?
But no. They were all throwing themselves to protect Hatir.
Even if this world were drowned in Nether's evil, as long as it vented the clan's rage, they would follow Hatir's will. Even if he was the one who'd deceived and dominated them with a curse—they would shield him with their bodies if it meant destroying other races, commoners, nations.
What infuriated him most was that Hatir wasn't even trying to dodge.
‘Please! Get out of the way! Why go this far!?’
Tears of blood streamed from Azadin's eyes as he loosed black steel arrow after arrow, desperate to pierce the clan's defenses and strike Hatir.
But the heralds blocking his path prevented even a single scratch on Hatir.
And then...
-Thunk!
A black steel arrow pierced Azadin's bow and his left arm holding it. His wrist bone shattered, and his entire forearm was blown away.
“Ugh!”
An enormous amount of blood gushed out in an instant.
Azadin had plenty of experience with minor wounds, but losing an arm like this was a first—a gruesome injury.
For a split second, it didn't even hurt. Watching his arm fly off felt like it was happening to someone else.
But to stem the massive bleeding, he had to clamp his armpit shut immediately and press the stump with his right hand.
The wound was too large; left alone, he'd bleed out in under ten seconds. But staunching it left him unable to move.
He couldn't even defend himself like this.
-Whish!
A clan member's blade flew toward Azadin.
Azadin couldn't draw his sword to swing it—he could only try to dodge. But the deep wound and blood loss made his body refuse to obey.
The blade struck Azadin's body. His armor prevented it from slicing flesh, but the impact knocked him flat.
Normally, a blow like that wouldn't fell him, but Azadin's condition was dire from the shock.
“Die, traitor!”
The clan raised their blades to finish Azadin.
But at that moment, an explosion rang out, and the one approaching Azadin was suddenly blasted away.
Chunks of stone rained into the palace amid a thunderous boom.
It was a stone cannon firing carved stone shot. Incredibly, they'd turned a siege cannon on the palace itself.
“Your Majesty!”
Soldiers and knights flooded into the audience chamber.
Qinggandang soldiers poured in behind them, their eyes glowing yellow with frenzy.
The heralds unleashed a volley of arrows, but astonishingly, these foes pressed on even with arrows in their heads—they wouldn't die.
Those who'd become Grimsrown's minions were growing stronger now that Yaegas's Royal Throne had been defiled in the Nether's tongue.
“Urk!”
“What should we do?”
“Our goal is achieved. Time to withdraw.”
Hatir, having already completed the defilement of the throne, had no intention of lingering.
Someone might sit on the throne in the Golden King's stead and reinfuse it with divine letters to restore Yaegas's Royal Throne, but the king's sons—the princes—lacked their father's power.
With King's Radiance gone, Btuma teetered on the brink of collapse.
“What about the traitor….”
The heralds glanced at the fallen Azadin, seeking Hatir's orders.
Hatir gave a cold look at Azadin, who lay unconscious with his left hand severed.
“That wound will kill him anyway. Even if not, what use is a one-armed herald? Hurry up. We'll be surrounded the moment we slack.”
The herald clan leaped out the windows, evading the onrushing Btuma soldiers.
The soldiers gave chase, but they had no hope of catching those who scaled heights twice a man's stature as if it were flat ground.
“Damn.”
Karthen, commanding the returning soldiers, clicked his tongue at the fleeing heralds.
The king had been assassinated, and the culprits had escaped.
A few lay dead or wounded from Azadin's arrows, but the Golden King Manja-Zadek's death would unleash catastrophe on Btuma.
And moreover...
With King's Radiance vanished, the ominous shadow projected in the sky grew ever stronger.
*********
When Azadin opened his eyes, he lay on damp dirt. Looking around, he saw bars enclosing him, and he was stripped bare.
“My arm….”
His left hand and about an inch above the wrist had been severed.
Amber sap coated the stump, staunching the blood. Grimsrown's sap. It had sealed Azadin's wound and saved his life. Otherwise, he'd be dead.
“Am I a prisoner?”
Azadin muttered absently.
[Indeed.]
The Emperor's Voice answered in his stead.
“What happened? Where am I?”
[This is Amun-Zadek's prison.]
“Amun-Zadek?”
[The son of Golden King Manja-Zadek, and currently the strongest contender for the throne.]
“Hmm.”
Azadin sat up and looked around. His condition was better than expected.
“What's the situation?”
[With King's Radiance gone and the naga assaults intensifying with Nether beasts at the fore, Btuma's forces lost their cohesion. Fortunately, the Qinggandang—composed of Nether's minions—fought valiantly, allowing an orderly retreat from Btuma. But the army has scattered to nearby farms and fortresses without their capital.]
“So, what's the mood like?”
[People are furious at the herald clan. They killed the king they revered and loved, the one who ushered in the age of the Divine King. Of course, you fought against that clan, but to them, they can't distinguish individuals like that.]
“Guess so, with the Golden King dead.”
Azadin recalled the Golden King's final moments.
To protect Azadin, abandoned by his own clan, this king—who was no kin but Yaegas's Divine King—had thrown himself in harm's way.
Though driven mad by despair, he had truly been a great king.
With such a figure slain by the clan, it was inevitable that hatred for them would build among the people.
Divine King Slayer. Soulless Impious.
The labels clinging to the clan suddenly felt heavier.
“What about the Emperor's Voice? Will you honor the contract with the clan?”
The Emperor's Voice still recognized the Aragasa—who had abandoned his mission and turned to Nether's dark arts—as heralds?
Azadin's question brought a response from the Emperor's Voice.
[The contract with the Aragasa has been terminated.]
“…….”
He knew it was only right, but hearing the contract truly broken left him reeling. So the curse of servitude wasn't from the Emperor after all, but from the Council of Elders—from Second Leader Hatir?
A contract that could be broken this easily.
“Then what about me?”
[You are the only herald remaining.]
“Is that so?”
Azadin looked at his severed hand.
He wouldn't be able to properly draw a bow with this injury. And yet, he was the Emperor's sole remaining herald.
A bitter smile crossed his lips.
Thanks to Grimsrown, perhaps. Despite losing so much blood, his condition was decent.
“Ugh….”
Was it because he saw the wound?
Suddenly, his missing left hand ached. Absurdly, the hand that no longer existed itched and throbbed painfully.
The stump hurt too, but worse was the unbearable itch, sting, and indescribable agony from the lost part.
An itch driving him mad, yet impossible to scratch—torment and pain intertwined.