Chapter 3
Chapter 3
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Demon of the Gold Coin 3
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"Got a shovel?"
"A shovel? You mean to bury these people?"
Sir Zibek was puzzled. This herald had already taken the gold coin. With the petitioner dead, there was no more obligation to look after them. Bury their bodies?
"If not, nothing we can do about it."
Azadin turned his back to Sir Zibek and began digging into the ground.
"......"
Was he really planning to bury the corpses? That act alone was tantamount to a challenge against Young Lord Kozel.
Corpses hung from trees everywhere, dark magic twisting them into undead that screamed even in death.
Young Lord Kozel would use those undead dangling from the branches to affirm his power. If someone held a funeral midway through, he wouldn't stand for it. Especially if it was one of the herald clan.
By the time Sir Zibek snapped out of his daze, Azadin had already dug a pit large enough for one person and buried a body inside it.
"Ah."
Sir Zibek watched, unable to even draw his sword. How could he point his blade at someone lowering the corpses—left to rot and bloat on the trees, denied even basic human respect, hung like banners to sate a tyrant's sadism—and giving them a proper burial?
The thought suddenly made him feel so cowardly and pathetic. Here he was, pledging loyalty and serving the very tyrants who orchestrated such horrors.
Sir Zibek sheathed his sword, approached Azadin, and began digging the earth with his hands.
*********
A holy knight of the King's Church and a young man of the herald clan dug the earth together, burying the victims. Azadin stood before the graves and clasped his hands in prayer.
Sir Zibek flinched for a moment. He had suspected the youth might be burying them to desecrate the bodies with some heretical ritual.
That flashy speech from earlier might have been a trick to deceive him. After all, wasn't this man a follower of the vile emperor, one of the herald clan?
But then... the youth said something unexpected.
"Great Archangel of Wisdom, Courage, and Mercy. Have pity on them."
Incredibly, the young man had begun reciting the Salvation Knights' prayer.
"Salvation Knights?"
"Sure, I was born into the herald clan, but I like the Salvation Knights' ideals..."
"You insolent fool. You're abandoning your clan's destined fate to follow a heretical faith?"
"If I don't stand by what I believe is right, then what's the point of being born?"
"......"
What an odd guy. He never backed down from any exchange, his words carrying a seasoned edge far beyond his youth, shaking Sir Zibek's resolve.
Just who was this man?
As Sir Zibek watched, Azadin performed the Salvation Knights' rites over the dead.
"It's a rough, makeshift funeral, but it should stop them from turning into undead."
Those who meet unjust ends without proper rites are prone to rising as undead. But would a funeral performed in the Salvation Knights' style by someone of the herald clan really work? Was his faith genuine?
*********
The Salvation Knights were an order devoted to the Three Great Archangels who guarded the virtues. They claimed that anyone, regardless of birth, could gain white mana by upholding the three virtues: wisdom, courage, and mercy.
The King's Church had defined itself as the sole religion under the king's rule, so it had originally branded the Salvation Knights as heretics and sought to punish them.
But when sea beasts surged from the ocean, the Salvation Knights held them back with their own bodies and conducted relief efforts for the poor, earning overwhelming support from the masses.
On top of that, so many noble heirs joined the order that bloodlines intermingled, blurring the lines until the members' temperaments resembled those of the King's Church. It became impossible to label them heretics.
The Salvation Knights respected the Divine Kings sanctified by the King's Church, and the Church refrained from interfering in the Knights' beliefs. Their relationship settled into one of mutual respect.
"You really hold to the Salvation Knights' faith? Enough to prevent undeath?"
"You're awfully suspicious."
"What about the Salvation Knights appeals to you?"
"That a person's nobility isn't tied to their birth, but to their convictions and actions. Someone born with Divine King blood who rapes and massacres peasants isn't noble, after all."
"...You bastard."
Sir Zibek realized Azadin's words mocked his own faith and grew indignant, but after burying the bodies together, he couldn't bring himself to draw his sword.
At that moment, Azadin untied the band-like thing from his waist. On closer look, it was a bow. With the string removed, it curved so sharply backward that he wore it wrapped around his waist like a sash.
With practiced skill, he strung the bow in an instant, then pulled the quiver strapped to his pack, untied the leather strap securing the arrows, and slung it diagonally across his waist.
"Planning to fight? Good timing, then."
There was something oddly compelling about this herald clansman. But that wouldn't do. To a holy knight of the King's Church, the herald clan were enemies to be slain. Better that he make his hostility this clear.
But the enemy Azadin was preparing for wasn't him. Torches were approaching.
"What's this, old man? Don't tell me you took a liking to that girl? Should've said something if that was the case."
Young Lord Kozel snickered as he led his men forward.
"Makes sense, though. Too fine a piece to waste in this backwater dump."
"Heh heh."
Young Lord Kozel's men drew their spears.
"But who's that bastard?"
The soldiers snickered as they closed in. There were quite a few of them. No—Kozel's entire force had arrived, fully armed.
Coming out in full heavy armor at this late hour suggested they might have caught wind that Sir Zibek was sheltering the girl. That had to be it.
'This'll be tough.'
Sir Zibek inwardly clicked his tongue. Kozel's men wore plate and chain mail combined—heavier armor than most knights.
Sir Zibek was confident in his skills, but facing twenty such heavily armed foes left him no options. Especially with the lightly armored herald right in front.
That's when Azadin sprang into action.
-Whoosh!
An arrow flew in an instant, targeting the lead soldiers. It was shooting fast enough to fell any ordinary trooper.
But the soldiers Kozel kept were veterans not inferior to seasoned knights. They had shields at the ready—hardened raiders and killers.
-Scree!
Azadin's arrow tore through the wind, twisting past the shieldbearers like a living serpent and striking those behind them.
-Thunk!
Incredibly, it hit the spearmen at the rear.
"Arghhh!"
A spearman's face was shredded. The arrow raked his helmet, tearing it apart and ripping off his nose and eyeballs.
"What?!"
Not just the midair twist—it packed monstrous power. How strong a bow was needed for that?
While Sir Zibek gaped in astonishment, Azadin nocked another arrow and drew the string. One shot skyward, the other at a shieldbearer.
The soldier who mindlessly raised his shield to block was stunned by the paralyzing shock that numbed his arm.
He had merely blocked the arrow—yet it pierced the shield, stabbing into his lower abdomen. No, precisely his groin. And there was more to marvel at.
-Thunk!
The sky-shot arrow slammed into his collarbone.
Two arrows had struck the same target simultaneously.
"Gyaaah!"
He writhed in agony from his groin and shoulder.
"N-No way!"
"That bow treats armor like paper..."
"Take him down before he shoots again!"
They charged Azadin, but he backpedaled, firing arrows in rapid succession. His retreat was so swift the advancing soldiers couldn't close the gap, getting shredded by arrows instead.
-Thunk!
Eyes popped out.
-Thwack.
Knees shattered.
"......"
The pursuing soldiers realized it. He wasn't trying to kill them. He was aiming to leave permanent handicaps.
'Crazy bastard?'
'Even if he wanted kills, he wouldn't have enough arrows.'
The soldiers felt relief that he was wasting arrows needlessly, but dread too. The rage pouring off him was no joke.
What if they really lost an eye to him?
They'd end up more helpless than the farmers they'd been looting moments ago.
Could they endure that?
"It's fine! He's out of arrows!"
Kozel spurred on his terrified men. Azadin's quiver dangled empty. He really was out.
"Alright!"
The survivors closed in on Azadin.
"How's it feel now? No more arrows..."
"So what?"
Azadin smashed his fist into the face of a charging soldier.
"Guh?!"
The single blow crumpled the helmet, shards shattering the man's eyeball. Blood streamed from his eye as he spun and collapsed, shocking everyone.
"Thinned your numbers nicely with arrows... Come at me if you're brave."
Azadin unstrung the bow, which returned to its curved shape, wrapped it around his waist like a sash again, and picked up a sword from the ground beside a fallen soldier.
"Oh, almost forgot."
He plunged the blade into the groin of the soldier he'd just blinded with his fist.
It looked casual, but it was a surgically precise strike.
'Why's he so obsessed with castration?'
'C-Crazy fucker.'
The brutality froze the soldiers.
"Y-Yeah, he's one of the herald clan after all!"
Sir Zibek, who had hurried after them, blurted it out thoughtlessly.
"What? That guy's herald clan?"
"The soulless ones?!"
Some knew the grim rumors of the herald clan. And this was one of them?
"Don't chicken out, you lot! Run and I'll kill you myself! If you're dying anyway, your only shot is taking him down..."
Kozel threatened his men, but Azadin moved, swinging at the soldiers.
"Cover your eyes!"
Those who shielded their eyes had their groins sliced, smashed, knees buckled. The moment pain twisted their faces bare, a sword came flying straight for their eyeballs, gouging them out.
Such precise work was far more intricate than a clean kill, leaving openings—but no one could surround and overwhelm him.
"What happened to the spears?"
"Uh..."
Azadin's backward sprint outpaced them; the spearmen couldn't keep formation. Plus, his earlier arrow barrage had targeted spear wielders—they were mostly eliminated.
'This bastard planned this from the start.'