Entering Lantarique (2)

Azadine’s party, along with Guillaumevalt, began administrative work at Highnest Fortress.

Sir Brock and Lady Lise had a young child, but with Sir Brock renouncing his fiefdom to become a priest, the child’s status became uncertain.

Thus, Guillaumevalt decided to become the child’s guardian and, in the meantime, took over the governance of Highnest Fortress and its surrounding estates.

The stewards and scribes began transferring records on the estate’s assets and internal affairs. Fortunately, Guillaumevalt had a natural talent for accounting, so the process concluded quickly.

While Guillaumevalt managed estate affairs, Azadine searched the hideout of the Kurt Pantheon Union, a coalition of Kurt God Clan worshippers.

“This is the Naga Empire.”

Shati insisted that the true owner of this secret base was the Naga Empire.

“Hm, is that so?”

Azadine searched for documents and letters, but since they were written in the Naga language and Fang-Wedge script, he couldn’t read them.

“Shati, can you read these?”

“You think I’d translate this for you?! I may be your prisoner, but my heart remains ever loyal to the Naga Empire!”

“Hm? What was that? Say it again.”

Mediam nocked an arrow to her bow, making Shati flinch.

“Just once!”

“You’re very obedient.”

“No, but believe it or not, most of this is just useless junk. Seems like the high-ranking officials already abandoned this place.”

Despite her words, Shati started reading the documents, but most of them were ledgers filled with numbers and financial records. Even without knowing the Naga language, the abundance of numerical data was obvious.

“We found four copies of the Heavenly King’s Book of Truth here, and you’re saying no high-ranking officials remained? If they left the books behind, there should have been someone to manage them.”

“Do you even know how terrifying a Wendigo is? They summoned a Nether emissary. Why would they leave behind valuable artifacts? But since its power was undeniable, they probably thought sacrificing four copies of the Heavenly King’s Book of Truth was worth it.”

In other words, they considered summoning the Wendigo to destroy the human world more beneficial, even if it meant losing four sacred texts.

“How about Scott? Did he find anything useful?”

“Nothing particularly worthwhile. The command authority had already fled. They were planning to abandon this base after the Salasma operation failed, but that Lady Lise or whatever her name was suggested they could still use the Wendigo’s altar, so the hardliners stayed behind to release it.”

“The high-ranking officials destroyed all their records before leaving?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. Can records really be erased so thoroughly? If we dig around, there should be something left. Shati, Scott—you were both part of this group, weren’t you? Don’t you know anything?”

“The orcs were mostly mercenaries.”

“I wasn’t that high-ranking among the Nagas. I don’t know anything. And, oh, what joy, I know so little that I can’t teach you anything!”

Shati exclaimed gleefully. But just then, Ismail discovered a book covered in black scales among the corpses of the Kurt Pantheon followers.

“Azadine, this….”

“Hm. This looks interesting.”

“It could be a magic book. Be careful.”

“Yeah. No doubt about it—it’s a grimoire.”

Azadine prepared an obsidian razor and opened the book.

“A translation of the Nether language… But…”

Azadine frowned as he examined the text.

“A Nether language translation? Then…”

“Never read too much at once. It corrupts the mind. Well, I’ve read a lot, so I’m fine. …But this is strange.”

Azadine’s expression grew puzzled as he flipped through the pages, engrossed as if he were verifying something he already knew.

At first, his companions watched without concern, but as Azadine’s behavior became increasingly unusual, they started to worry.

“Wait! You can’t read too much at once!”

Mediam tried to stop him, but Azadine kept scanning the book as if entranced.

“Didn’t you just say you shouldn’t read too much at once?”

“I have strong resistance to corruption. More importantly, this…”

“Hey! Stop him!”

Scott, seated in his wheelchair, gestured for Ismail to intervene. However, Ismail chose to observe what was happening.

As Azadine continued reading the Nether text, blood began trickling from beneath his mask.

“Azadine!”

“Damn, I read too much.”

Azadine quickly removed his mask and, using the obsidian razor, cut into the scars left by Arael where his eyes once were. The slashed skin writhed, transforming into a wriggling, black-red worm.

“Ugh! What is that?!”

Shati recoiled in horror.

“Tch.”

Azadine crushed the worm under his foot.

“…Reading Nether language corrupts living beings. It’s best to excise the affected tissue.”

Scott swallowed hard.

“But boss, your body isn’t capable of using magic. How are you so familiar with Nether language? And why were you reading so intensely?”

“……”

Azadine wiped the obsidian razor on his leather belt and closed the book, remaining silent.

“What’s wrong?”

“No, it’s just… Ismail, you found this book, right? Where exactly did you get it?”

“Over there….”

Ismail pointed to a Naga corpse. The body was much larger than the others, adorned with jewelry and carrying a massive curved blade—clearly a high-ranking individual.

“Did you find something unusual?”

“Yes. This book contains passages researched by Kazas.”

“What?”

“Why do the Nagas possess the same research results as our Aragasa Senate?”

“Isn’t it because any competent magician studies the Nether language? Just because your Messenger Clan researched it doesn’t mean we Nagas couldn’t figure it out. In fact, I bet our research results are even more advanced.”

“If that’s the case, then that’s a relief.”

Azadine picked up the Nether-language book that the Nagas had been studying.

“Are you suggesting that there may be someone in Aragasa colluding with the Kurt Pantheon?”

Ismail asked.

“The possibility… No. No, that’s not it.”

Azadine shook his head.

The primary researcher of the Nether language was Elder Kazas. If these studies had been leaked, then the source could only be Kazas.

However, Kazas was not originally from Aragasa. He was an elf who had once challenged Aragasa, was captured, and provided knowledge as an atonement, remaining imprisoned as an elder.

In other words, he was once an enemy of Aragasa… and elves were originally vassals of the Naga Empire.

‘But if that were true…’

That would mean Azadine’s master, Kazas, was a traitor to Aragasa.

‘No, I don’t have enough evidence yet. This alone isn’t enough.’

With that thought, Azadine took the Nether-language book with him.

Count Lantarique’s castle was already under complete control by Lord Adler and his loyal retainers. If Count Garnahaer of Lantarique were to go missing, Adler planned to use his vassals to assassinate Guillaumevalt or, failing that, force Guillaumevalt to join the King’s Church, allowing Adler to inherit the title of Count Lantarique.

However, a strange rumor began to spread. Guillaumevalt had refused to join the church and was coming to claim the title of Count Lantarique.

At first, everyone thought Guillaumevalt had lost his mind.

There was a ten-year age gap between Adler and Guillaumevalt. However, when Adler was ten, Guillaumevalt was already an adult knight of twenty, yet he was still inferior to Adler in swordsmanship, magic, and everything else. He was such an incompetent fool that he even lost sparring matches against a ten-year-old boy.

And now that very same Guillaumevalt was challenging for the title of Count without any loyal vassals?

“What’s going on? What about the Cell Sword Guild? Wasn’t their job to shadow Guillaumevalt and keep him under control?”

Lord Adler was a striking young man with silver-streaked hair, so delicate and refined in appearance that he was often mistaken for a woman.

For those who admired the pure lineage of the Yaegas God Tribe, his very existence was an object of devotion. His noble features were the result of meticulous bloodline management by Count Garnahaer of Lantarique.

Because of this, Adler had received excessive favoritism from Count Garnahaer, though he took great pride in it. After all, he had been promised the Lantarique domain.

But now, Guillaumevalt was challenging him?

“Well…”

“The Cell Sword Guild members have been killed.”

His retainers hesitated as they delivered the news, as if they couldn’t believe it themselves.

“What? All of them? Why? Did they all die of food poisoning?”

“They attempted to assassinate Sir Guillaumevalt but were counterattacked and killed.”

“Are you joking?”

Adler widened his eyes.

“Apparently, Sir Guillaumevalt had been hiding his true strength all along.”

“That fool? Hiding his strength? Don’t make me laugh.”

“But it appears to be true.”

“There have been troubling rumors lately. They say Sir Guillaumevalt is the hero of Highnest Fortress.”

“‘Hero’ is the last word I would associate with that fool. What nonsense is this?”

“A monster appeared at Highnest Fortress, and everyone fled in terror. But Sir Guillaumevalt and his companions defeated it.”

“I knew the common folk were stupid, but they actually believe that?”

“Well, there was real fog, and terrifying creatures did appear.”

“So they actually believe this? Please. I could defeat Guillaumevalt with one hand.”

His retainers looked at him with unease. Adler had always been the Count’s beloved youngest son—modest, composed, and the center of his father’s affection.

But ever since Count Garnahaer went missing, Adler had been snapping at his vassals more frequently. It was clear that his previous behavior had been an act to please his father and his retainers.

An act was fine—after all, rulers needed to manage their image. But now, faced with a powerful competitor, Adler’s temper was becoming a bad sign.

“Sir Guillaumevalt has successfully taken control of Highnest Fortress. He exiled Sir Brock, who had summoned the monsters, to a monastery and became the guardian of Brock’s son, Cedric.”

“What? He took back the fiefdom granted to a vassal?”

“Yes. And Sir Brock willingly accepted it.”

“That doesn’t make sense. What exactly happened?”

Unable to contain his frustration, Adler turned to a nearby figure.

The man clicked his tongue.

“It seems our ‘comrades’ are involved.”

“Your comrades? You mean…”

Adler furrowed his brows.

“The Messenger Clan?”

“Yes.”

The young Messenger Clan member standing beside Adler nodded with a smile.

“I really don’t like you people. My father’s disappearance—your so-called ‘skilled warriors’ were with him when it happened. And now what? You’re backing Guillaumevalt? Are you people plotting something against the Lantarique domain?”

“Not at all. As you know, our Arael Sect is only one faction within the Messenger Clan. There are still foolish former comrades scattered everywhere who have not yet embraced the Gospel. We will try to persuade them.”

“You’d better. If you want access to the Emperor’s treasury, that is.”

Adler scoffed, twirling a gold-adorned key on his finger.