Chapter 43
Chapter 43
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: Curse of Service 5
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Azadin was furious, but no matter how angry he got, it didn't change the fact that he'd die from the Curse of Service in a year if he just sat around doing nothing.
"In the end, the only way to stay alive is to beg the chieftain to revoke my dismissal, huh."
"Y-Yeah. That's the smart move."
"Exactly. Can't you just prove your innocence?"
"Tch. Pisses me off. Prove I'm innocent or die? What kind of logic is that? It's a genius way to crush anyone's motivation, huh?"
"I-It wasn't us."
"Don't take it out on us. We're not feeling well either."
"Hey, you've treated me like a dog since we were kids—you think castrating you would be too much?"
"Eek…."
"Castration? Isn't that a bit cruel?"
"The organization's loyalty has me getting dragged to my death over my sister without so much as a trial, and you think I can afford to play nice right now? I used to be a sensitive boy, you know. A sensitive boy devoted to the Three Great Archangels! But if you keep pushing me like this, you're the ones turning me into a cold-blooded, vicious killer!"
Azadin was so enraged he even toyed with the idea of killing his seniors, Kellibre and Adan. They might be his seniors, but he had no fond memories of them. If anything, their relationship was the kind where chasing them down with a packed lunch to murder them wouldn't raise any eyebrows.
But thinking coldly about it, if he wanted the dismissal revoked and to reapply for service, he probably shouldn't go around killing clansmen. Plus, this was a village—a commercial hub with caravans parked everywhere, full of people coming and going.
"Ugh. Fine, I'll hold back."
"So, about us getting captured by you…."
"No thanks. I don't want to rack up merits for you bastards. I'll break through with my own skills."
"But we've got orders to capture or execute you. You planning to fight every clansman you run into from now on?"
"It's not like I don't want the credit, but if you capture me, that's the safest way to get there! The others might actually kill you!"
Kellibre and Adan tried to persuade him. But Azadin refused.
"No way. If I let myself get taken without a fight, do you think the chieftain or elders will acknowledge me? They're not the type to admit they made a mistake. They'd probably rather kill me and bury the whole thing. So I'll show up at Regional Chief Sarasuma's place on my own two feet. Anyone who gets in my way gets a kick in the ass. Come to think of it, the only ones in the clan I wouldn't feel bad kicking are Aldis and my master. The rest? Don't care! I'll boot 'em all the way to the moon!"
Midiam and Ismail exchanged glances.
'This guy's the type who goes blind with rage. We're in trouble.'
Ismail thought that, but Midiam just shrugged.
"That's the least he deserves."
Midiam had already sided with Azadin.
*********
Kellibre and Adan eyed Azadin warily.
"S-So, then."
"You're letting us go, right?"
"I'll let you go, but if you round up more guys and come after me again, that'll be a headache. Looks like the dismissal and capture orders just went out through the network, huh?"
"Yeah."
"We're already beat to hell anyway—we couldn't fight again even if we wanted to."
"But you bullied me when we were kids, remember? That gives me plenty of reason to…."
They had every motivation to torment him in return. As Azadin said that, Adan and Kellibre bowed their heads.
"Th-That was our fault."
"Forgive us for the mistakes of our youth."
"Hmm. Mistakes of youth?"
Azadin shrugged.
"Fine. Lucky for you, I've got a favor to ask anyway."
He needed people to escort the kids he'd rescued from the hearthkeeper's house to Baroness Nord. When Azadin made the request, both Kellibre and Adan nodded. They didn't dare refuse, not knowing what Azadin might do to them.
"Anyway, we'll report that the Emperor's Voice spoke up for you."
"Yeah, yeah. You're the model herald, after all—otherwise, why would the Emperor's Voice go out on a limb like that?"
"We'll testify to it."
Adan and Kellibre begged desperately, loading the kids into a peddlers' guild cart. Whether it was genuine or just bootlicking to survive, Azadin figured the injured pair posed no further threat, so he let them go.
"Alright, let's hurry up and meet Regional Chief Sarasuma first."
With the Curse of Service hanging over him, Azadin was getting anxious.
"Don't worry, brother. I'll guide you there quick."
Tarki took the lead, showing them the way.
*********
Azadin called him a bastard, but Tarki was indeed nobility.
Even as the illegitimate son of Margrave Sarasuma, Count Kazel, Tarki's mother was the daughter of a baron family and quite wealthy. Otherwise, he couldn't have hired a mercenary band of about twenty.
That put Tarki in a different league from other bastards. Born to a concubine rather than the legal wife, he could still become head of the house if all the legitimate heirs died.
That was why he got so indignant every time someone called him a bastard. And thanks to that, they passed through the checkpoints in Sarasuma territory with ease.
"I'm Tarki, son of Count Kazel of Sarasuma! I have urgent business—make way!"
Neither the checkpoint guards nor the militia dared challenge the knight. Since they'd passed through here before when he led his mercenaries out, the gatekeepers recognized him on sight.
'Ah, that little shit's back?'
'Where are his mercenaries?'
'Who knows. Hope he gets skewered by monsters.'
'Or maybe he just took the money and ran?'
'Damn noble bastard. Won't even die.'
The villagers and soldiers cursed inwardly but quickly cleared the path.
"Heh heh heh. See that? My status?"
Tarki had started out intimidated, but after breezing through a few gates on his name alone, he was getting cocky.
"It is convenient."
Azadin had to admit that much. He could even understand Tarki's resentment toward the "bastard" label.
"A guy who tried to plunder the common folk is a proper noble and knight? These are end times, end times."
Thanks to Tarki, they cleared the checkpoints fast, picking up speed. Before long, the group entered the outskirts of Sarasuma.
*********
Sarasuma was a city of about three thousand households, clustered with its outlying farms, thriving for ages thanks to its massive copper mines.
As they approached the city and its surrounding farms and villages, the number of passersby surged. More people meant more merchants on the move.
"……."
Azadin clicked his tongue, sensing hostile stares from amid the crowds.
'Korasar Peddlers' Guild. They definitely know about the kill order on me.'
Herald clansmen passing through had spotted him.
"Hey, isn't that…."
"Azadin?"
They approached him like old friends. They were from an earlier cohort than Azadin but ones he'd never met during training, so he didn't know them.
"Pardon me, but who might you be?"
Azadin wasn't mocking them—he genuinely asked. He was famous enough among the heralds for instant recognition, but they weren't, so he had no clue about their names. That seemed to hit a nerve, though.
"This little shit…."
"Thinks he can strut around just 'cause he lucked into becoming a herald?"
They probably resented him as some talentless hack who'd become a herald anyway. That's when Tarki stepped up.
"Hey, what do you think you're doing? You know I'm Tarki, son of Count Kazel of Sarasuma, and you still mouth off?"
"……."
"You lowly merchant scum daring to act up in front of me? Why are you messing with my companions?"
"N-No, sir."
"Our mistake."
Whatever they thought deep down, their public face was merchants. They couldn't afford to brawl in public with a knight like Tarki.
"If saying sorry ended it, why would we need the king's law!"
"……."
"Urgh."
They glanced at the passersby. Plenty of onlookers around: farmers hauling vegetables in oxcarts, shepherds herding goats, peasants with tools loaded on donkeys, even street vendors with advertisement flags hawking bread and tea.
They couldn't just kill Tarki in front of all these people. Playing the part of humble merchants, they bowed their heads.
"Please forgive us."
"We were uneducated and failed to recognize your knightly dignity."
"Hmm. Is that so? Good timing—I'm thirsty. Make a little donation to quench it. Pile up enough good deeds, and you might get reborn as nobles in the next life, eh?"
Tarki hammed it up shamelessly.
"……."
Azadin, Midiam, and Ismail stared at Tarki in surprise.
'This guy's useful after all?'
Azadin had dismissed Tarki until now, but he had to admit, this was impressive. Some seriously solid acting.
"……."
"H-Here you go."
The peddlers reluctantly pulled money from their pouches at Tarki's blatant shakedown.
"Not nearly enough. Hardly wets the throat, but hmm. Can't expect much from you lot. Go on—I'll graciously forgive you."
"Th-Thank you."
As the peddlers retreated, Tarki turned to the onlookers.
"What? Show's over? Or do you want to make a donation to this lord too?"
"Oh no, sir!"
Everyone scattered like roaches, dodging the ruffian blocking the road.
"Not bad, bastard. I underestimated you. That's some acting skill."
Tarki shrugged at Azadin's praise.
"What can I say? Barely enough for fodder. Want to squeeze some more from the others?"
"Nah, no need."
"How about that one?"
"Huh?"
Azadin blinked as Tarki pointed at another group of merchants coming from the opposite direction. These weren't herald clansmen—just regular folk.
Turned out Tarki wasn't acting to help Azadin. This was just his usual MO: bullying merchants and shaking them down.
'Ah, damn it. Shouldn't have complimented him.'
Azadin had been pissed about the dismissal and the curse kicking in, but at heart, he was a devout follower of the Three Great Archangels. Fundamentally good-natured, now that his anger had cooled, he had zero interest in tormenting innocent people.
"Ah, hey, Azadin?"
"Hm?"
Midiam drew his attention.
"Over there…."
"Ah."
Azadin spotted a group of armed soldiers approaching. Leading them was a young girl in full armor mounted on a horse, followed by three more armed men and women.
They'd been aggressively hassling passersby but zeroed in on his group the moment they spotted them.