Chapter 28
Chapter 28
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: The Holy Knights' Massacre 5
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How could they possibly excuse murdering civilians with a stray arrow? From the King's Church's perspective, the farm folk hanging around with the Herald Clan were no different from heretics. But actually facing off against the Herald Clan? That felt like a death sentence.
But...
That Herald wasn't launching any attacks. He was just staring at them.
“What?”
“Out hunting, are we? Holy Knights with spears and bows. Fine, squire knights I get, but no full-fledged knights?”
“...And what of it?”
“Why'd you start slaughtering villagers just because you came out to hunt?”
“Because the villagers are heretics.”
“No, you're wrong. You didn't even know I was a Herald until you tangled with me. You only realized there were Heralds around after our kids fired their arrows. In other words...”
Azadin pieced it together and clicked his tongue.
“You accidentally killed some people and tried to silence them.”
“......”
“Am I right?”
Midiam could tell from the Holy Knights' reactions that Azadin's deduction was spot on.
“Probably mistook some folks gathering herbs or mushrooms in the brush for animals and shot them dead. Then chased them down to cover it up and ended up massacring the whole farm.”
“Shut your mouth, you soulless heretic scum.”
Sir Gazrek bristled, his weak spot pierced.
To be precise, an arrow fired during the hunt had gone astray and killed a farmer checking the fences, but he had no desire to air that blunder in front of the Herald Clan.
“Killing me to shut me up won't be easy, though?”
Azadin snatched a spear from the hand of a Holy Knight he'd knocked out with his dagger. The hunting spear now pointed at Sir Gazrek.
“If you lot promise not to harm this village anymore, pay reparations to the families, and become Penitent Knights, I won't kill you. I haven't killed any so far...”
Azadin swung the spear through the empty air, then leveled it back at Sir Gazrek.
“...but from here on, holding back's gonna be tough.”
He'd neutralized two squire knights, but the enemy numbers were still overwhelming. Azadin couldn't afford to keep showing mercy.
‘Is this guy insane? “Holding back's gonna be tough from now on”? Does that mean he's been pulling his punches this whole time to avoid killing us?’
The King's Church Holy Knights held an absolute edge in skill over regular knights. While rural knights stagnated without sparring partners, the all-knight Holy Knight Order allowed rapid comparison and improvement among their ranks.
And this guy had been holding back against Holy Knights?
“Don't make me laugh. If we back off because some soulless heretic scared us... we'd be punished just for that.”
“Scared of punishment, so you'll keep sinning?”
“Capture you, and it's all solved! From your skill, you must be a high-ranking Herald. Bringing you in fixes everything! These farm scum are Emperor loyalists anyway—deserved to die!”
Midiam and Ismail, listening in, had to stifle absurd laughter.
Azadin was the 108th Herald—the lowest rank among Heralds, shunned even by his own clan. For them to overhype his skills like that.
But seeing how the Holy Knights weren't pushovers either, their assessment rang true. Both Midiam and Ismail agreed: Azadin's prowess was no mere low-rank Herald's trick.
That's when Azadin hurled the spear again.
“Hmph!”
Sir Gazrek casually batted away the incoming hunting spear and cast a spell at Azadin. This time, a hammer of holy light plummeted from above his head.
Azadin dodged, but the light exploded, sweeping him up in the shockwave. Yet even amid it, he calmly unslung the bowstring from his waist, strung it to his bowstave, and grabbed a hunting arrow from a fallen squire knight.
Squire knights didn't carry many arrows by tradition—just three or so.
“You think I'll take a straight shot like that head-on!”
Sir Gazrek charged.
“Yeah?”
Azadin raised his bow skyward and loosed at a steep angle.
A setup for a high-arc shot?
But it left him way too exposed.
“Watch out!”
Midiam fired an arrow at Sir Gazrek to support Azadin. But as boasted, Sir Gazrek swatted the eye-level shot aside with his sword and barreled forward.
“Ah!”
As panicked Midiam loosed another, Azadin slipped between the arrow and Sir Gazrek.
“Huh?!”
Azadin snatched the arrow mid-flight, spun in place, nocked it to his bowstave, and fired.
Sir Gazrek, sword raised to deflect Midiam's arrow, couldn't withstand the point-blank shot whipping in from the side. Azadin's arrow pierced his temple, and he toppled forward.
“Urk...”
“No way!”
The remaining squire knights reeled at Azadin's near-miraculous feat. Sir Gazrek had shown top-tier skill batting away arrows right in front of him.
To counter that by intercepting an arrow mid-flight to him and firing it back? It was demonic, not human.
“......”
“W-What was that?”
Even Midiam, of the Herald Clan, couldn't help asking.
“It's called arrow snatch-and-shoot.”
“Arrow snatch-and-shoot? Is that a Kazas technique?”
“Nah, I invented this one myself. Not that hard—practice a bit, and you two could pull it off.”
Azadin kindly explained to Midiam, then turned to the knights.
“So, what's it gonna be?”
Azadin raised his hand skyward, and the arrow he'd just shot upward flew right back into his grasp like a magnet. That high shot had been a setup for exactly this.
A trap to lure in foes who thought his bow empty and strike them down. But he'd used it early, snatching Midiam's arrow mid-air and turning it into an instant kill on Sir Gazrek.
“Uh, listen...”
“If you make reparations to the families for harming the farm folk and become Penitent Knights, I won't kill you.”
At Azadin's words, the squire knights exchanged panicked glances. Before Sir Gazrek died, they'd have dismissed it as nonsense.
But seeing even him slain by this Herald... He wasn't joking. This guy would kill them all.
‘Become Penitent Knights and he'll let us live? But if we run and report a Herald of the Emperor showed up?’
‘Just escape this mess first. Might as well agree?’
The squire knights wavered. Then—
“No way!”
The farmer's sons and daughters appeared from behind.
“Those bastards killed our father!”
“They murdered our mother and brother-in-law!”
“They butchered us like livestock just to cover their mistake! We don't want reparations!”
“Kill them! We want blood, not gold!”
The grieving farmers demanded Azadin, a Herald, execute the King's Church Holy Knights.
“You filthy peasants!”
The Holy Knights exploded in outrage.
“Looks like negotiations are off the table.”
Azadin lamented the deteriorating situation.
‘These farmers get the thirst for revenge, but killing King's Church Holy Knights means abandoning the farm and turning vagabond.’
Among Whubris's commoners, farm boys often dreamed of becoming mercenaries or adventurers. A lifetime as serfs never leaving their village was too stifling for boys that age, wings itching to spread.
But mercenaries or adventurers? Not that easy. Fallen warrior nobles aside, landless serf kids lacked startup cash, gear, or training. No proper outfit would take them—maybe bandits, but that's it.
‘Vagabond life is brutal. They ready to embrace that for revenge now?’
But with the victims demanding blood, Azadin couldn't unilaterally forgive. The enraged sons and kin battered the fallen knights with stones and axes.
“You ignorant wretches! Dare to... against Holy Knights! You'll all be cursed!”
A screaming knight lunged at the farmers, but Azadin's arrow halted him. The farmers swarmed the paralyzed knight from the impact and beat him to death.
Azadin watched the carnage with a click of his tongue.
*********
The farmers decided to gather the knights' corpses alongside those of their slain kin. They'd lost family to the Holy Knights' rampage and yearned to desecrate the bodies, but Azadin stopped them.
“Corpses are just corpses. Hate the living all you want. But no need to bind yourself hating the dead more than necessary. Don't Whubris folk believe in the afterlife? No point stacking bad karma by desecrating them.”
“But we don't have to give them proper funerals, right?”
“You don't. I'll handle it. Little effort to prevent them rising as undead ain't bad. And showing basic pity where grudges are settled? Can't hurt. Right?”
“......”
Grudgingly, they began retrieving their families' bodies.
While they did, Azadin gathered the Holy Knights' corpses.
“You're one unusual guy.”
Midiam pitched in to help Azadin. Ismail rummaged through the dead Holy Knights, checking their gear.
“Better not take Holy Knights' weapons. Mostly church-issued. Bury 'em with or use as grave markers.”
Azadin set aside the knights' swords and armor as grave goods, wrapped the bodies in cloth, and consecrated them Salvation Knights' style.
‘...Consecrating King's Church Holy Knights Salvation Knights' style—ain't that desecration too?’
Midiam thought it, but kept quiet.
“Whew.”
Work done, Azadin sat on a tree stump after a Salvation Knights-style funeral. He'd planned rest and regrouping today, but the mood wasn't right.
“So... you really would've forgiven them if they agreed to become Penitent Knights?”
Midiam asked Azadin.
“Forgiveness ain't mine to give, but that's the law, yeah?”
“King's Church Holy Knights could just promise falsely, though? They see us Aragasas as soulless abominations anyway—breaking oaths with us ain't sin to them.”
Soulless heretic—that name for the Herald Clan carried exactly that meaning.