Chapter 37
Chapter 37
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 37
Chapter Title: Black Magic Disaster 8
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‘But what if she actually gets persuaded?’
Midi'am was surprised at herself.
She hadn’t given it a second thought.
What if Azadin convinced her? What on earth would happen then?
*********
[I’ve waited for ten thousand nights.]
That’s what the necromancer said.
At the same time, black energy enveloped the wyverns.
[From childhood until now, all this time, I’ve been waiting. Waiting for my kin to come and free me from this wretched life…]
The delusion of a persecuted girl. But because it was her hope, she must have endured the endless abuse and humiliation.
[But you never came.]
When the wish she’d harbored for ten thousand nights was shattered, betrayal and resentment must have taken root. That hatred now fully manifested, raising the undead.
The wyverns, pierced through the guts by Azadin’s arrows and killed instantly, rose again as undead. The bear that had just fallen did the same.
“I’m sorry. You bore the full weight of the insults and abuse inflicted on our kin all by yourself.”
Azadin apologized. It had only been three months since he’d become a herald in charge of this area. He hadn’t received any handover from before.
So he was ignorant of what was happening now.
He couldn’t take responsibility even if he wanted to.
Even so, Azadin couldn’t make excuses. No excuse would hold up when he thought of the pain she must have suffered.
[…]
Was it because of Azadin’s apology? The risen undead simply stood there blankly, not attacking.
[Still, I can’t forgive you. I’ve already touched black magic now, and I’ll kill everything living. Only death can soothe this pain.]
The undead bear and wyverns began to exude a ferocious aura.
Were they about to attack?
Azadin let out a sigh.
“Where were your children sold off to?”
[They weren’t children I wanted to bear! They’re the spawn of the Hybris scum who raped me!]
“But those children will suffer just for carrying Aragas blood. Just like you, they’ll live as slaves, enduring ten thousand nights—or more—of humiliation, coming to hate their kin who never came to save them. If you don’t want to pass your pain on to them… surrender to me and tell me their details.”
[…]
“I swear on Emperor Yaeslat’s name that I’ll find and rescue those children. After ten thousand nights of agony, you wouldn’t want the same repeated for them, would you?”
As Azadin spoke, the darkness began to waver.
[I… my children? You’ll save my children? Is that possible?]
“It’s possible. I told you, we Aragas shoot down stars and even slay the New Kings. The Hybris despise us, but our convictions shine undimmed amid their scorn.”
“…….”
“…….”
Ismael and Midi'am were speechless at Azadin’s words.
‘Look at him lying through his teeth without even wetting them first.’
‘Convictions? Do we have any?’
As a founding clan member of the herald race, Midi'am could say with certainty that no such herald clan existed anywhere.
The heralds’ duties were forced upon them by a curse.
The founding clans chased only money and power.
Once they reclaimed the New Kings’ Scripture copy and lifted the curse of servitude, they’d seize countries with their overflowing strength and repay the humiliations they’d endured with suffering and oppression.
There was no pride in it—just greed. Yet here was Azadin, playing the proud herald of the emperor to soothe this necromancer.
Liar.
But Azadin’s act was so sincere that even they wanted to believe it.
Honor and pride transcending profit and loss.
If that existed, then maybe…
[I surrender.]
Everyone doubted their own ears at that moment.
A broken vessel doesn’t return to its original form. You could patch it with effort, but no vessel was worth that effort.
A shattered human was even more so.
Especially with black magic involved—the soul corrupts and breaks beyond repair. Yet this necromancer, who had spent her life despised and violated, filled only with resentment, had let go of all hostility and surrendered to Azadin.
[I trust in your pride and honor. I beg you to save the children I bore but could not embrace.]
She petitioned Herald Azadin of the emperor. As she surrendered, the undead collapsed, and the forest mist cleared.
An astonishing victory. Of course, the price was a heavy promise: to rescue her children. A vow sworn on the emperor’s name, on honor and pride—it could never be empty words.
A woman emerged from the forest and knelt politely before Azadin, extending both hands. Her posture screamed non-resistance, so Azadin approached her.
“Of course. Your children are our kin—how could we ignore the pain and humiliation of our own?”
Azadin lowered himself before the kneeling woman, grasping her hands reverently. Her hands were scarred, with black fungal threads growing on them.
And not just her hands… her body bore wounds no human could endure.
She had probably died already. Unbeknownst to her, perhaps.
“How many children? Do you remember who bought them, which merchants from which guild?”
[Yes. I don’t remember perfectly, but I wrote down some clues and hid them in the warehouse. So I wouldn’t forget. But…]
“How did you gain this power?”
[From a grimoire that whispered to me. It called itself a copy of the New Kings’ Scripture…]
“…A copy of the New Kings’ Scripture?”
Azadin was puzzled. She’d learned black magic from a New Kings’ Scripture copy?
Impossible. Black mana was rejected by the Yaegas divine race, the Rescue Knights, everyone.
Yet there was black mana power in the New Kings’ Scripture?
[I’ll return the grimoire. Please…]
But she couldn’t finish.
—‘Flower Bird Wind Moon! Flames of the Autumn Field!’
Suddenly, the forest around the lumber mill burst into flames.
*********
[Kyaaaak!]
Even in her spectral state of death, the heat of the flames made her scream and flail before collapsing.
“Damn it!”
As Azadin rose, a clear voice rang out.
“Ahahaha. Azadin, you idiot. That woman isn’t our kin. Can’t use magic, so you didn’t even know that?”
A herald in a hawk mask held a bone wand—the kind enchanted to detect New Kings’ Scripture copies.
Surprising enough, but behind him stood members of the Corasar Peddler Guild. Armed servants from the Sab’an founding clan house. Quite a number.
“Oh, you didn’t come to the summer solstice festival, so you don’t recognize me? Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Callipso, the 106th Herald.”
“What is this?”
“As you can see, I’m exorcising evil spirits and collecting New Kings’ Scripture copies.”
“This is my jurisdiction.”
“But the rumors say you’re so incompetent you’ve achieved nothing. And you can’t even control the attendant rampaging with you.”
The servants beside Callipso looked familiar. Azadin’s cohorts whom Midi'am had threatened with a knife, and the merchant Cha they’d met just before arriving here. All from the Corasar Peddler Guild, all humiliated when Midi'am held their lives at swordpoint.
The ones who despised Azadin and got burned by Midi'am had come with Callipso.
“Hmm.”
Azadin glanced at the fallen necromancer. The source of the black magic disaster was already dead, reverted to a corpse.
“That woman doesn’t have the Flower Bird Wind Moon grimoire on her. I already checked. She’s no Aragas. So you can thank me. No need to clean up pointless Hybris drama between yourselves, right? Putting the emperor’s name on the line for some lowly Hybris? Heh.”
As Callipso spoke, a sheet of pristine white paper suddenly appeared before him and Azadin. It had emerged from the body of the fallen specter—no, now just an ordinary corpse: a New Kings’ Scripture copy.
“Ah… there it is. As expected.”
Callipso pocketed the bone wand and reached for the New Kings’ Scripture copy, but…
The copy flew straight to Azadin, as if choosing its own master.
“…….”
Callipso’s lips twitched.
“Looks like it knows who the real master is. Quite the discerning artifact. Well, that’s why it’s the New Kings’ Scripture!”
Midi'am sneered, nocking an arrow to her bow.
—‘Flower Bird Wind Moon! May Rain!’
Her arrow struck the heart of the burning forest, summoning a brief downpour that extinguished the flames there. But the massive mana drain left Midi'am sweating coldly.
“…Ugh.”
Refusing to show weakness, she stood tall and turned.
“If you’re Aragas too, stop burning the emperor’s land needlessly and put out the fire! Setting forests ablaze in this drought—aren’t you ashamed?”
“Shut your mouth, daughter of Etar. Who do you think you’re nagging in front of?”
“What?”
“I’m a herald. You’re an attendant. I don’t care if you’re Etar or whatever—a mere attendant doesn’t get to order a herald around.”
Callipso’s words delighted the clustered servants. They must have been furious at Midi'am, so they’d brought a herald like Callipso.
Midi'am had pinned them down using her attendant status and Azadin’s herald position; now they were flipping it, using Herald Callipso to crush her.
But Azadin stepped forward.
“I train my attendant by my own methods, Callipso. You’re definitely… one cohort below me, right?”
A guy a year younger than Azadin.
‘Boomer fight.’
Ismael found the situation absurdly funny. Callipso had gone ‘How dare an attendant lecture a herald!’ at Midi'am, and Azadin fired back with ‘How dare a junior cohort!’ at Callipso.
“Sure, but my rank is higher than yours.”
“Herald rank isn’t the issue. If you investigated personally, you’d know about this woman’s children and the merchants who traded them, right?”
“…What? You’re really going to?”
“That woman’s Hybris. No Aragas.”
“But she gave us the New Kings’ Scripture copy. A treasure worth emperor’s gold or more. Ignoring the petitioner’s wish and taking it for free…”
Azadin clicked his tongue.
“My pride won’t allow it.”
“Interesting. The clan’s biggest fool has pride?”
Callipso glared at Azadin.
“Hand over that New Kings’ Scripture copy, and I might tell you.”
“No thanks?”
“Then how about a duel over it?”
“A duel? Between heralds?”
“Yeah. You stake the New Kings’ Scripture copy you just got and Etar’s daughter. I stake the info you want—where that woman’s kids are now—and my rank. Beat me, and you’re the 106th Herald.”
“And if you win? What’s this about staking Etar’s daughter?”
“I take the New Kings’ Scripture copy, and that impudent little attendant of yours becomes mine. I’ll teach her to respect her superiors and the clan’s business.”
As Callipso spoke, the servants behind him flashed lecherous grins.