Chapter 97
Chapter 97
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 97
Chapter Title: Arael Tribe 7
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“Kodanuss! Summer Mirage at maximum output!”
“Yes!”
Kodanuss enchanted an arrow with magic and shot it toward the side of the fortress they planned to infiltrate. When the arrow struck the fortress wall, the Firebird Windmoon spell activated, sending a brief wave of warm gusts sweeping through.
Nema, who had been maintaining the Foresight Bird spell, nodded.
“Two sentries on the watchtower. They’re asleep.”
The Summer Mirage of Firebird Windmoon, with its warm and drowsy power, had lulled the sentries in the fortress’s upper levels. Already exhausted, they slipped into unconsciousness without realizing it, as if suffocating in the sweltering summer heat.
“Hmm…”
Kodanuss looked drained after expending so much mana.
“Good work, Kodanuss. You and Nema, stay here and follow Kahsan’s orders. The rest of us are heading up!”
Nefti dashed lightly along the base of the field ridges and reached the foot of the fortress. Yaravin followed her, then leaped onto the fortress wall first, gripping the gaps in the bricks and climbing up as swiftly as if running across flat ground.
The fortress walls featured protruding windows designed to hinder climbers from below and allow arrows and stones to be fired at low targets. Yaravin grabbed one with both hands and vaulted over it in midair.
Nefti and Yaravin scaled the fortress walls, avoiding the narrow windows too small for a person to fit through.
When they finally crested the wall, they found Holy Knights of the King’s Church in armor and wielding swords, along with Azadin and his two attendants, waiting for them.
“You were expecting us? We put the sentries to sleep and kept watch with Foresight Bird. How did you know?”
“It’s a spell of the King’s Church. ‘United Will.’ Thanks to it, we knew when you put the guards under.”
Zibek had cast United Will on the guards so he’d be alerted if any died or fell unconscious, then stationed them in the watchtowers and arrow slits.
“Huh, not bad. How’d you talk a Holy Knight into this?”
Nefti was impressed. Most Holy Knights of the King’s Church were remnants of nobles ousted from the succession struggles—greedy to a one. Some young ones were still pure, untainted by the world, but Zibek had dark circles under his eyes and a gloomy air that made him look older than his years.
“When your ambitions are high, comrades appear, don’t they?”
At those words, Nefti’s servant Yaravin stepped forward in front of Azadin. He glared with bulging eyes and thrust out his chin to provoke him.
“Hey, eyeless freak Azadin! You call that high ambition? Sabotaging Lady Arael’s noble cause while patting yourself on the back? You’ve got some nerve!”
“What are you? Not a Herald, right? An attendant?”
“…”
“A servant, then.”
Ismail said it, and Midiam let out a snicker.
“A servant picking fights with a Herald…”
“Sh-shut up, you brat! I may be a servant, but my skills are Herald-level!”
“…”
“Pfft! Did you hear that, Ismail? That’s what everyone says when they wash out of Herald training. If he was really Herald-caliber, he’d be an attendant at least. First time I’ve heard someone say it out loud!”
“You insolent little…”
Yaravin’s face turned beet red as Midiam mocked him openly. He thought of himself as a servant only because his family was poor, but to others, it was just the usual excuse. Having a child point it out so bluntly left him embarrassed and flustered.
“Enough. Yaravin, stand down.”
Nefti pulled Yaravin back and stepped forward herself.
“High ambitions draw comrades. Well said, Azadin. And you, Holy Knight—you’re impressive too.”
“You flatter me.”
Zibek inclined his head slightly in a bow to Nefti. She smiled back at him, then turned to Azadin, Ismail, and Midiam before speaking.
“Azadin, here’s Lady Arael’s will. She intends to create a nation for Aragasa.”
“A nation?”
“Yes. Casting off the Curse of Service and building a country with our own strength! If we succeed, those Hubris scum won’t dare scorn us as soulless anymore. That’s why her lofty will draws us to her.”
“…!?”
“A nation?”
Midiam and Ismail were stunned by the words. But Azadin remained indifferent.
“Impressive talk, but without a concrete plan, it’s just hot air, right? Say we break the service contract with the Emperor—what then? The Eight Kingdoms see us as thorns in their side. How do you handle them?”
“We have a concrete plan. Azadin, the New King Canon copy—that’s the plan.”
“The New King Canon copy?”
“Exactly. Collect it, and we free ourselves from the Curse of Service while gaining a decisive edge over the Yaegas divine tribe. You know their power’s been waning lately, right? Even if kings and nobles claim divine descent, their blood’s too diluted with human now.”
“Blasphemy!”
Zibek bristled at that.
“Harsh words for a Holy Knight’s ears, I’m sure. But Count Lantarik acknowledges it too. King’s Radiance is fading. Even rightful kings on the Royal Throne can’t hold back monsters in remote areas, where the dead rise from graves and wander. The only one who can save this world is Lady Arael, the present goddess born outside the human norm.”
“Lady Arael?”
Azadin found it absurd. To him, Arael was just an annoying sibling, yet Nefti—his senior—worshipped her like a goddess.
The Curse of Service made Azadin a “cursed child” for his birth, but for Arael, it proved her extraordinary origins. Condemning one while exalting the other—it was blatant favoritism that grated on him.
“So? If Arael’s so powerful, why ally with a trash count who slaughters peasants?”
“Ahahaha! Not very Herald-like thinking, Azadin. Caring for Hubris folk isn’t bad, but it’s a peacetime virtue. In war, you cut enemy supply lines first, no? Spare them out of pity, and they’ll become the force oppressing our future nation later. That’s letting personal sentiment ruin the greater cause.”
“Stirring discord in the world to carve out a nation in the chaos? Delusional.”
“Delusional? You dare call Lady Arael’s will delusional?”
Yaravin bristled at that.
“Azadin, you said high ambitions draw comrades? You might dismiss Lady Arael’s will as delusion, but your attendants seem eager to join us.”
“N-no! What nonsense!”
Midiam denied it, but Ismail neither confirmed nor denied.
‘A nation for Aragasa… If there’s no way to make it real, it’s nonsense. But if there’s no basis at all, a capable Herald like Nefti wouldn’t side with Arael. With so many switching sides, she must have the ability to pull it off.’
The thought made his heart race.
“Well, Azadin? Isn’t Lady Arael’s vision for an Aragasa nation lofty? If you want in as a comrade, say the word. She’d fling open the gates for you anytime.”
“Hahaha. Thanks, but no thanks.”
Azadin burst out laughing.
“A true Aragasa couldn’t help but boil with blood at such a proposal. And with so many on her side, it seems more than delusion—there’s a solid plan and credibility.”
“Right?”
Nefti beamed, pleased that Azadin valued Arael’s vision.
“Welcome aboard, Azadin.”
Nefti extended her hand for a shake.
‘Not just coasting on being Arael’s brother—he’ll be a big help.’
She welcomed him sincerely. But Azadin shook his head.
“Thanks for the welcome, but I’ll pass.”
“What?”
“You bastard!”
Yaravin fumed at the sight.
“Aren’t you Aragasa too? A nation for our persecuted kin, and you won’t jump in with both feet? What’s with the nitpicking?”
“No, calm down, calm down. Geez. You excite too easily. Truth is, I’d love to join you all sincerely and work together.”
“Then why?”
“But if I get swayed that easily, Count Lantarik looks like a total fool, doesn’t he?”
“What? What does that…”
“Don’t fight it—go tell Count Lantarik this: Guarantee civilian safety, or you can’t sway me. And since I’m Arael’s only blood kin, fighting or killing me is off the table. If he’s serious about allying with her, let a few peasants go.”
Zibek burst out laughing at Azadin’s gall.
“That’s plausible.”
Zibek didn’t know much about the Herald tribe, Aragasa. But seeing Azadin’s attendants waver at “Aragasa nation” showed how badly they craved it.
They were persecuted as soulless blasphemers, after all.
Even Azadin wasn’t unmoved. Yet here he was, playing hardball.
Nefti let out a hollow laugh.
“What? So you want us to conspire with you to wring concessions from the count?”
“Exactly. Reasonable proposal, right? If he sees me as Arael’s kin, he’ll take it seriously.”
“Sorry, but no dice. That won’t fly. Count Lantarik…”
“Needs to kill people wholesale for his black magic research?”
Nefti flinched as Azadin said it.
“You?”
“You bastard!”
Yaravin and Nefti scowled, realizing Azadin knew and had brought it up deliberately.
“Nefti! He’s toying with us! He never intended to join Lady Arael!”
“Looks like we’ll have to use force after all.”
Nefti drew her sword. But Azadin didn’t unsheathe his.
“Stop. I don’t want to kill you.”
“…What?”
“Are you sane, Azadin? We know you’re injured. And will your attendants back you? Sure, the Holy Knight and these soldiers are on your side, but you know they’re no match for us, no matter how many.”
It was a small fortress with some twenty soldiers, but Nefti treated them like scarecrows.
‘But it’s true.’
Zibek knew the Heralds’ power firsthand—their boasts weren’t empty. He was confident in his skills, but against Azadin alone, he’d need to give his all.
What if the attendants turned?
‘Artificial spirits flying overhead, and skin-crawling killing intent below. More Herald tribe members are poised to reinforce anytime.’
In this situation, Azadin had the nerve to say, “I don’t want to kill you.”
‘What’s your play, man?’
Even Ismail grew curious.