Chapter 51
Chapter 51
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 51
Chapter Title: Aldis 6
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Kazas continued.
“Normally, I don’t take disciples. There’d be enough guys lining up two deep to surround the entire Kerim Mountains who want to be my student.”
Even if you gathered every member of the Herald Clan, all their servants, and even every priest from the King’s Church, it’d still be impossible to encircle the Kerim Mountains like that. You’d have to scrape together every race in Hubris to even have a shot.
“You got hit by your big sis, right? Oh, not with a sword, but barehanded for wounds like these? Scary stuff. Terrifying talent.”
“…She’s not my big sis.”
“What?”
“She’s my little sister. I’m the big brother.”
“Hmm. Whatever. Don’t you want to knock that arrogant Arael down a peg?”
“…….”
Azadin was at a loss for words. He’d been tormented so much up until now that the idea of paying her back hadn’t even crossed his mind. He didn’t have the mental leeway to entertain such fantasies.
That was why Kazas’s simple notion of “if they hit you, hit them back” felt so refreshingly novel. Seeing Azadin too stunned to respond, Kazas took it as refusal and snapped in irritation.
“What the hell? Why am I begging some punk like you to be my disciple? Forget it! Screw this!”
Suddenly furious, Kazas threw himself on the ground, then spun around and stormed out of the cabin.
“Uh, w-wait…”
Azadin panicked, but his injuries kept him from following. Moments later, though, a head poked through the cabin door. Kazas was peeking in from outside, just his head visible.
“Hey! Isn’t this the part where you cry and chase after me? Damn. This kid’s dense. Maybe I should just eat him.”
“Uh, p-please take care of me.”
“What?”
“P-please accept me as your disciple.”
Only then did Kazas break into a satisfied grin.
“Good, Azadin. I’m not like those other idiot Aragasa. The tattered Hwajopungwol inside you, those murky mana emanations from that grimoire—they’ll be the perfect foundation for Kazas Hwaso. You can become the strongest Herald.”
“Could I maybe become a Salvation Knight too?”
“Salvation Knight? Those morons? Sure, you could. Not that I recommend it.”
Kazas smirked.
“If you help me with my research, that is.”
*********
Azadin assisted with Kazas’s research and, in return, learned Kazas Hwaso. Or rather, it wasn’t so much learning as it was thorough indoctrination and refinement.
Kazas studied the remnants of Hwajopungwol lingering in Azadin’s body, drawing out the powerful grimoire’s strength in an incomplete form, while modifying and tuning Azadin’s flesh to match.
At this point, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say Kazas Hwaso had become something uniquely Azadin’s. So absorbed in that training, Azadin hadn’t seen his blood kin Arael—or even Aldis—in all that time.
And yet here he was, in this remote backwater near Salasma, running into Aldis.
“You’ve grown so splendidly, Azadin. Sir Kazas went off on his own and made you a Herald, so I couldn’t even see you at the festival. I really missed you.”
Aldis smiled at Azadin.
She was 34 now, but with Yaegas divine blood thicker than anyone’s, she still looked exactly like the girl Azadin remembered from his youth.
“Ah, but this isn’t the time to smile. Do you have any idea what Arael’s done?”
“No clue. I haven’t seen Arael since I became a Herald.”
Azadin and Arael’s relationship was utterly shattered. She’d left those deep scars on his face without a single apology—instead, she’d demanded he be grateful.
In the meantime, Azadin had become Kazas’s disciple, left the Herald Clan village, mastered Kazas Hwaso entirely, been abruptly appointed a Herald, and arrived straight at the Salasma border post of Korasar Kingdom.
“Arael murdered Elder Kenehan and stole all the copies we’d gathered. The work and hopes of the entire clan, gone. Just like her father did.”
Regional Chief Salem reported Arael’s misdeeds in her stead.
“Elder Kenehan of the archive…? Arael killed him? For real? Not a frame job?”
“…….”
As a child, Aldis had been Azadin’s absolute standard. The smartest, wisest, kindest, most beautiful person in the world—the origin of every virtue and value. But as an adult, he saw her as just another human, flaws and all.
Like now, with her favoritism toward Azadin and Arael. Sure, her favoring him was nice, but when it led to messes like this, it sparked a flash of annoyance. The others seemed to feel the same.
“Arael lured Elder Kenehan out and killed him. Her lackeys ransacked the archive. That’s a plain fact!”
“But why? There has to be a motive, right?”
“W-well… to monopolize its power?”
Everyone was speechless. Motive?
Arael was as haughty as her skills were elite—like a blaze fused with a gale, unpredictable. No one knew where she’d strike next. Like a wildfire devouring everything in its path, you only grasped her direction after seeing the full devastation.
So no one questioned her motives. Except Aldis.
“Grimoires need interpretation, and more people makes that easier. Arael’s Rank 2 Herald. Once the interpretation’s done, she’d benefit anyway—no need to monopolize. Who could surpass her if everyone got the same grimoire at once?”
Even without monopolizing, interpreting the New King Scripture copies would benefit Arael. She’d wield their power better than anyone, as the strongest Herald already.
Her motive for killing clanmates and betraying now seemed weak.
That’s what Aldis was saying.
‘Spot on. Not just blind favoritism. But she’s only thinking in rational terms.’
If people always acted rationally, Azadin’s ties with Salasma’s Regional Chief would’ve been sorted out smoothly by now.
“Even if she betrayed them, wouldn’t it have been smarter to wait until she had them all?”
But Aldis’s doubt rang true. Not proof Arael was innocent, but her motive was suspect—that was Aldis’s point.
“Arael’s extreme and ruthless. She’d kill anyone who even slightly disrespects her.”
“Yeah. She treats others’ lives like flyspecks.”
“So…”
Everyone assumed Arael guilty and guessed at her motive. But for such a grave crime, their guesses felt like flimsy excuses. Because Aldis was calmly eyeing each one with the “Eyes of Harconia.”
“Understood. Then I’ll move out to counter Arael’s rebellion. Regional Chief Salem, even though Azadin’s been dismissed for some reason, treat him as a Herald still. I’ll take responsibility.”
“Very well…”
“Keep letting us use the Korasar Peddler Guild’s assets, share all info immediately, and spare no support. Oh, within reason, of course—and hold off on any kill order for Azadin.”
Azadin chuckled at Aldis’s words. The Korasar Peddler Guild had never supported him like that. They’d only grudgingly complied after he insisted, like feeding a beggar.
They’d despised and belittled him, dismissing his requests. But Aldis’s carried weight.
“Y-yes, understood.”
“Then, Azadin, shall we catch up on lost time?”
Aldis turned her still-radiant smile toward him.
*********
“So that’s Aldis Jedaha, current Rank 1 Herald.”
Midiam shrugged after meeting Aldis.
“She doesn’t look that different from me?”
“She’s like a goddess.”
Ismael and Midiam spoke at once, then fell silent.
“Wow, Ismael. First time I’ve heard you say something like that. You into that type? Well, no guy hates a beauty, right? So you’re a man after all?”
“More like the Yaegas divine traits are vivid in her. They say she’s the child of the Emperor and Harconia—turns out our Aragasa really do carry Yaegas blood.”
“But did you see Azadin’s face? That’s it, right? I’m not the only one thinking that?”
“…….”
Midiam’s focus was solely there, so Ismael figured more talk was pointless.
“Miss.”
“Yeah?”
“Do you really like Azadin? Or did you decide to after losing the duel?”
“You think I’m some fool who doesn’t know her own heart?”
“Sometimes… everyone’s blind to their feelings. Either way, serving Azadin like this is dangerous.”
“Huh? Why?”
“The Elders will probably issue Azadin a kill order for Arael.”
“A kill order for Arael…? They’ll issue it to the whole clan, won’t they?”
“Yes, but it’ll be special for Azadin. ‘Your blood kin rebelled—execute her yourself to prove your innocence.’ That’s the command.”
“Why’s that a problem?”
“Rank 2 Herald Arael wouldn’t rebel without countermeasures for dismissal and the curse of servitude. For her to revolt so openly… probably…”
The New King Scripture copies’ interpretation had progressed somewhat.
That’s what Ismael thought.
“So you’ve guessed Arael’s motive?”
“Yes. Probably to halt the interpretation.”
“Why?”
“Well…”
Ismael trailed off.
Naturally, Aragasa commoners were dissatisfied. Persecuted by Hubris folk, then scorned within.
Becoming a Herald got you into mainstream society, but those raised with fine food and love from childhood weren’t equals to those doing menial work before the selection. Status was hereditary.
Even a commoner Herald just joined the mainstream—internal class lines stayed hereditary.
‘Even if New King Scripture copies free Aragasa from the curse of servitude, it’ll just strengthen the founder clans’ authority. The hierarchy solidifies, rulers gain more power. The system needs overturning entirely.’
Ismael grasped Arael’s motive that way but kept it to himself. No need to voice commoner class rage before founder-blood like Aldis or Midiam.