Chapter 53
Chapter 53
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 53
Chapter Title: Darkness of Salasma 1
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Azadin found the Regional Manager's words and actions grating.
He took pride in his Herald clan, yet showed no interest in Herald duties, prioritizing the merchant guild's business instead. It irked him that the man had excluded him—a fellow Herald—and handled things independently without informing him, only to mention it now as if bestowing some great favor.
*It's because Aldis asked, so I'll tell you for her sake.* Wasn't that his attitude? But Azadin wasn't one to fly off the handle and make a scene, and besides, the man's information was necessary.
"You're dragging around this Tarky fellow... With Young Master Kozel having lost his inheritance rights, he's one of the most likely candidates now, but I'm not sure inheritance rights mean much at this point. How about we kill him to keep the Korasar Courier Guild's identity as Aragas hidden?"
"He's a Petitioner of the Gold Coin."
"Even a petitioner could betray us."
"Do you doubt the Emperor's Voice? A Petitioner of the Gold Coin can never betray Aragas. If that were possible, he would've used the Emperor's gold coins seized by the Royal Church to set a trap for us."
The Petition of the Gold Coin wasn't something that activated just by having gold coins. The petitioner had to truly and desperately desire it for the petition to take effect, and in exchange, a portion of their soul became a resource sustaining the Emperor's Voice.
"I don't doubt the Emperor's Voice. Even if that Tarky bastard is a scoundrel, he wouldn't dare oppose us directly. But couldn't he accidentally expose the guild's true nature through his own blunder? Even without intent to betray, his incompetence could cause us trouble."
"I understand your concerns. If necessary, we'll eliminate him. But not right now. For the moment, we need to find out where he got the gold coins, where he hired the mercenaries—there's a lot of vital information to uncover immediately."
"Very well... I leave it to you. But remember, if any problems arise, it's on you."
The Regional Manager spoke in a tone that made it clear Azadin would bear the responsibility if Tarky leaked information.
*This old fart.*
Irritation bubbled inside, but Azadin held it back. What was the point of snapping? The man wouldn't even grasp why he was angry.
"Understood. Thank you again for arranging the carriage."
Azadin bowed to the Regional Manager and took his leave. They'd each given a little ground to mend fences, but they were fundamentally mismatched.
Staying longer would only sour things further, so Azadin decided to make a quick exit.
*********
Young Master Kozel had been castrated and lost his inheritance rights.
The rumor spread like wildfire. It had started as vague talk of something happening to Kozel, but details filled in until it became certainty.
Kozel and his men, who had been plundering the village in search of the Divine King Scripture, had encountered the Herald clan and been castrated.
Such whispers echoed among the refugees.
"Castrated by the Herald clan?"
"They gouged out his eyes too, they say."
"He won't be strutting around anymore. Serves him right."
"Hey, watch your mouth. What if someone hears?"
"But isn't Salasma getting dangerous? The river's almost dried up."
Tarky rode along, and he could overhear refugees chatting as they trudged by with their packs.
"Hmm, the Herald clan."
Tarky glanced back at the carriage trailing behind. The Korasar Courier Guild's wagon lumbered slowly in their wake. Azadin was probably asleep inside.
*Did that guy deal with Kozel? Should I ask? Nah, but if I pry unnecessarily and he gets mad, that'll be scary.*
Tarky had always been an arrogant noble brat. But after meeting Azadin, he'd learned the world was vast and full of the strong.
Frankly, he was terrified. And after learning the Korasar Courier Guild were Heralds, that fear had only grown.
He'd thought they were just lowly merchant peddlers, but they were actually an assassin group? Then how many Heralds were out there in the world, and where?
*Better not act cocky. I could die without anyone noticing.*
Tarky pressed on, sobered by reality.
*********
"We're here. Salasma."
Midiam shook Azadin awake.
"Ah, right. It flickered out after getting jammed."
Azadin stretched and sat up. The Emperor's Voice not only protected Heralds from surprise attacks but also informed them of time and location.
"Having it vanish like that is inconvenient. How long was I out?"
"About two hours? Not too far."
It wasn't a great distance from where Azadin's group had camped to Salasma's gates. Azadin stepped down from the carriage and addressed Tarky.
"Let's go meet your mother. We need to find out where she got the gold coins and why she hired those mercenaries."
"Yes, this way."
Tarky led them up the hill toward his mother's house. Azadin followed him up the slope.
From the hilltop, the area around Salasma came into full view. Refugees camped in every open space—the checkpoint square, the market plaza before the village, everywhere. And the reason they'd come was plain to see.
"The river's way down."
The flow of the Kora River, which ran through Korasar, had diminished greatly. So much so that the docks for river transport were stranded far from the water, useless, with the riverbed exposed.
Around the highlands where nobles, wealthy merchants, and professionals like judges and scribes lived, beggars swarmed.
"Please, sir, just a coin."
"My children are starving to death."
Amid the beggars, others waved huge banners, fervently proclaiming the end times.
"The age of Jupiter is coming! When Jupiter enters the capital, the demon gods slumbering beneath Netherstrom will awaken, and doom will follow! Repent! Uphold the three virtues and give to the poor!"
Beggars and doomsayers made the place chaotic. Midiam glared at the doomsayer man, her displeasure plain.
"What a piece of trash."
"What?"
Azadin was curious.
"That guy's not really receiving apocalyptic visions. He just has nothing himself and an unstable future, so he wishes the world would end. But he can't say that outright or he'd get hate, so he hides behind prophecies and revelations. Total powerless, rotten character."
"Hmm. You're too harsh on people. Everyone has weak, foolish moments. If you can't forgive human frailty, nothing gets started."
"Oh ho, is that so? Then why don't you start by forgiving Ara'el?"
"......"
Azadin was speechless.
"Hmm, just occurred to me—humans are imperfect, after all. Maybe hating someone isn't so bad."
"Your stance flipped 180 degrees there."
"No, not like that. Ara'el hasn't even apologized to me, so forgiving her on my own would be ridiculous, right?"
"Right? See, humans are imperfect, just like you said."
Midiam laughed as she said it.
"I'll forgive your mistakes. Grateful?"
"No, I haven't even done anything wrong—why are you acting like you've already absolved me?"
*********
Azadin's group pushed through the crowds and finally reached Tarky's mother's mansion. But...
The mansion's entrance was barricaded with large planks, guarded by armed soldiers. And it wasn't just this mansion—nearby ones were boarded up too, with apothecaries and priests coming and going. It looked like a plague had hit.
"Huh? What's going on? Hey! What's happening here?"
The panicked Tarky approached a soldier blocking the mansion.
"Lord Tarky!?"
"Uh, well..."
"Your mother has gone missing."
"What?"
Tarky was stunned.
"M-Mother missing? W-What do we do?"
As Tarky flailed, Midiam nodded.
"Maybe your mother found a new life and started over. Despairing of her foolish son who can't leave the nest."
"Enough, Midiam. Don't rile him up when he's already worked up."
"But it's true he can't leave the nest."
"......"
Tarky, who would normally snap back, was too shocked to retort.
"What happened to the children you sent your mother? Was she safe until then?"
Azadin had rescued children from the baker who abused and killed them in his oven, sending them via the Korasar Courier Guild to Baroness Nort. He was curious about their fate.
"L-Let's ask the servants first."
Tarky questioned the nearby servants.
"They were sent to the trading company for servant training."
"Good. Then... we have to save Baroness Nort no matter what."
Azadin repaid debts clearly. If Baroness Nort had taken in the children, he intended to rescue her by any means.
"Calm down and let's go inside to investigate first."
"I-Inside?"
"Yeah. Tell the soldiers we'll investigate."
At Azadin's urging, Tarky approached the soldiers.
"Hey, I'll investigate myself. With my companions!"
"Are you sure?"
"Of course! Let us in!"
The soldiers relented to Tarky's insistence and opened the way.
*********
Inside the mansion with Tarky, Azadin found it tidy, with a training dummy set up in the first-floor hall for sword practice.
"This?"
"Mother loved sword training. I learned from her."
"I see."
Learning swordsmanship wasn't unusual for noblewomen. Noble families with many children often sent offspring to the Royal Church or rescue knight orders rather than marrying them off, so women took interest in sword training.
Baroness Nort knew how to fight. If she'd been abducted or attacked, there should be signs of resistance—but none were obvious.
Did the attackers overpower her bloodlessly due to skill gap? Or strike while she slept, silently?
Azadin examined the training dummy and surroundings.
"Ismail! Midiam! You search too."
They split up to scour the area.