Chapter 30
Chapter 30
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 30
Chapter Title: Black Magic Disaster 1
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He'd already earned plenty of gold coins. With three already in hand, he could have bragged to shut this guy up, but Azadin held back.
"More importantly, how about some tea? If you don't serve any, the other passersby might find it suspicious."
"Tea, you say? Ah, of course, I must."
The tea merchant grumbled as he brewed and brought out some tea.
"Got any snacks?"
"Yes. Cookies made with candy mugwort. Goodness, you're taking something precious from a Herald without paying a dime."
The tea vendor brought out the snacks reluctantly. They were cookies kneaded with candy mugwort, an herb with a bittersweet flavor. Azadin passed them around to his companions and, still seated, asked,
"So, what's the mission?"
"The Relief Knights up ahead are doing relief work. They're setting up camps for refugees and handing out food."
"That's noble of them. You're not asking me to kill those Relief Knights, are you?"
"No, not at all. The problem is, while they help the poor, they're forcing merchants to make 'donations.'"
"Hmm, that's not a big deal."
Azadin brushed it off. He saw it as reasonable for the Relief Knights to strong-arm donations from the wealthy to aid refugees.
'The Relief Knights' relief efforts are like righteous banditry—sounds good in words, but I've heard they pocket more than they distribute. Azadin's always been lenient with others, but he seems especially soft on the Relief Knights. Is it because of his Great Archangel faith bending his arm inward?'
Midi'am harbored such suspicions.
The tea merchant, an informant of the Herald Clan, continued.
"So, merchants are gathering up ahead, detouring around via the outer path. But wyverns have been appearing there lately."
"Wyverns?"
"Yes. Refugees fleeing the drought have turned into bandit gangs nearby... and those Relief Knights seem to be hunting for copies of the New King Scripture too."
"So, the mission?"
"They want you to take out the wyverns and bandits on the detour... Will you do it? Or refuse again like before?"
"It's not a big deal. I'll handle it."
"Hoo, unexpected. What wind's blowing this way?"
"It's helping people, not assassination."
"Hahaha."
The tea merchant laughed oddly. In other words, Azadin was subtly criticizing the merchant guild's other requests as assassinations or self-serving schemes.
Of course, as a mere servant in the Herald Clan's hierarchy, the tea merchant had been slipping in subtle jabs at Azadin, a Herald. But the merchant outranked him. Having fallen behind in basic training and selection, Azadin wasn't seen as a true Herald, so the merchant actually felt insulted by his words.
Just then, Midi'am spoke up.
"Hey, Azadin, I can't stand it anymore. Can I?"
Azadin nodded at her words.
What was that about? The tea merchant wondered.
-Shing!
Midi'am drew her sword and pointed it at the merchant's throat.
"Huh?!"
Azadin calmly sipped his tea amid the tension.
"Who do you think you are, a servant mouthing off to a Herald? Nitpicking every word?"
"Ah, no..."
"Show some respect to a Herald. Or else..."
Midi'am pressed the blade threateningly against his throat. The merchant had to lean back from his seat, nearly lying down to avoid being run through.
"Enough."
Azadin stopped her.
"Midi'am, you're Etar bloodline and serving as attendant, but he outranks you. Bloodline and position matter, but our clan values respect for elders too. Considering that, sheath your sword unless you're killing him."
"Yes."
Midi'am wiped the blood from her blade, spun it with a flourish, sheathed it, and knelt before Azadin.
As proud Etar blood, she deliberately showed excessive respect to Azadin in front of him. Naturally, it was for the tea merchant's benefit.
"......"
The tea merchant was flustered seeing Midi'am defer so politely at Azadin's single word.
"Sorry about that. You served delicious tea, and we show you this mess."
Azadin wasn't clueless. He knew exactly why Midi'am had suddenly drawn her sword to intimidate the merchant. He apologized casually while sipping his tea.
"Ah, no problem."
Rubbing his neck wound, the merchant wore a sullen expression. Azadin, a Herald of the Emperor, was apologizing for his attendant's rudeness, so as a servant, he had no choice but to accept. Yet his feelings were hurt, and since the words were technically correct, it was a messy situation he couldn't argue.
The loser and the apologizer were separate, but really, they were in cahoots.
*********
After parting with the tea merchant and resuming their journey, Azadin called out to Midi'am once they crested a hill out of sight.
"Midi'am."
"Yes?"
"Thanks first off."
"Hehe, no big deal. As your attendant, anyone disrespecting you disrespects me. Plus, the Korasar Peddler Guild belongs to House Sabban, right?"
Sabban was one of the five founding houses of the Herald Clan and longtime rivals of the Etar. For various reasons, Midi'am had seized the chance to teach them a lesson.
"Thanks, but don't insult anyone deeply tied to House Sabban. Things could escalate. My predecessor was reportedly purged for offending them."
"Those guys would totally do that."
Midi'am said so, showing little fear of House Sabban. Was it youthful overconfidence?
"But the Herald Clan is huge, with so many members. That tea merchant's one too?"
Tarki asked, prompting Azadin to click his tongue.
"Don't pry too much. As you know, we can't expose the organization much."
"Still, they seem so capable and influential. With your help, I could inherit the count title..."
"......"
"Ah, no. Nothing."
Catching Azadin's gaze, Tarki shut up but still looked wistful.
Azadin's abilities and the Herald Clan's organization stirred his ambitions.
If they'd actively backed me, inheriting the count title would be easy.
Azadin sighed, seeing his obvious thoughts.
"You're dead set on that count title promise, huh? Fool."
"Pardon?"
"Count Kazel is still young. He wouldn't lock in succession tightly at his age. Even you—your mother's got money and influence, right?"
Otherwise, she couldn't hand him imperial gold coins and hire mercenaries.
"Yes."
"When the count shakes the family head seat, everyone brings their in-law wealth to do his bidding. Why toss such prime bait after one use? He's no dying old man. He'll milk it long-term. Then his new kids will fight over it too."
"But I can't just give up without trying."
"Why not quit already? Instead of playing knight and pillaging, wouldn't lounging in the count's court be easier on body and mind?"
"It's not that relaxing in court either."
"But you lot rampaging causes harm to other folks. If court bothers you that much, aim for the afterlife and off yourself. Hybris folk have souls unlike us Aragasar, so reincarnation's guaranteed, right?"
"Such harsh words..."
"Be grateful I stop at harsh words! Your pillaged civilians might starve. Ah, that inn ahead! Must be the one the tea merchant mentioned."
Azadin spotted the roadside inn while chewing out Tarki. It was clearly a gathering spot for caravans and adventurers.
Two people from the inn—a healthy-looking black-skinned man and woman—recognized them and approached.
"Brother Tarki!"
"It's Tarki, right?"
"You two?"
Tarki recognized them and glanced startled at Azadin.
"Who are they?"
"My half-siblings."
"Rivals?"
Azadin's question implied, 'Are they idiots like you, suckered by the count's empty promises and burning their mom's fortune?'
"Not really. They're Cell Sword Guild members."
The Cell Sword Guild was a mercenary and adventurer group. It meant they'd given up family head competition young to become mercenaries or adventurers.
Whether sharp realists or lacking maternal support, unlike Tarki's noble airs, they wore light leather armor armed with swords, bows, and short spears.
"Hi, brother. Who are they?"
"Ah, these are..."
Azadin stepped forward.
"We're pilgrims. Grateful Count Tarki's escorting us."
"Huh? Brother's guarding pilgrims?"
"What about your mercenaries?"
"Ah, those mercenaries. They betrayed me."
"Betrayed you?"
"They wouldn't listen, so we parted ways."
Tarki made excuses. The mercenaries he'd hired had become minions of the Kurt divine race, ravaging an eastern relay village... Claiming he'd split before that minimized his blame.
"You're okay after mercenaries betrayed you?"
Mercenaries often kill employers who betray them. Tarki wouldn't have survived that.
"No, they just ditched me over bad terms. Maybe not full betrayal."
"I-Is that so? I'm Kakara."
"I'm Chiko."
The siblings introduced themselves to Azadin's group.
"I'm Azadin. This is Midi'am and Ismail."
Azadin gave his real name, no alias.
"So, what brings you here?"
"Oh, we're on Cell Sword Guild work."
"Merchants here asked us to hunt wyverns."
"Wyverns? Not hunting New King Scripture copies?"
"No clue where those copies are specifically."
"You hear rumors doing jobs anyway, right?"
"You hunting them for the count title too?"
"No way. Mom's not that invested in us... We lack the background to aim high."
"We'll sell any New King Scripture copy we find. Hope brother buys it. Better him than Kozel."
Azadin chuckled at their words.