The Storm Of Coral Sahar (1)

The route from Lantarique to Coral Sahar, the capital of the Kingdom of Korasar, was usually taken by boat.

This was because Coral Sahar, a beautiful city located on the delta where the Kora River meets the sea, had accumulated vast wealth through maritime trade.

However, due to the ongoing drought, the water level of the Kora River had dropped significantly, forcing ships to sail slowly along the river’s central channel, where the water was still relatively deep. There was no space available for taking on passengers.

“We’ll have to go by land. Any assistance?”

Azadine asked the Korasar Peddler Guild’s branch in Lantarique.

However, they refused to assist Azadine, even in such a trivial matter.

“Well, wouldn’t it be a problem if we openly helped you?”

“So you’re telling me to figure it out myself. This is a real issue. We have someone in our group who eats way too much.”

Now that Scott had joined them, Azadine’s group was facing a severe food shortage.

In the past, this wouldn’t have been a major issue, but with the drought in Salasma and the war in Lantarique, food prices had skyrocketed, and political instability was widespread.

With the Light of the Crown losing its power, monsters swarming the land, and the presence of the Nether World lingering in the mortal realm, a stable supply of food and resources from the Peddler Guild was desperately needed.

“Still, we can’t help you. Arael’s younger brother. At least, not on the road to Coral Sahar.”

“Why?”

“Because the forces of the Elders’ Council remain in Coral Sahar, and the upper echelons of the Peddler Guild—especially the elite of the Ethar family—control the region.”

Their attitude was so firm that there was no hope of relying on them.

‘This organization used to function well, but it seems to have an unexpected weakness.’

When the Messenger Clan was united, the merchant and messenger organizations kept each other in check while still cooperating effectively. But now, with factions splitting apart and internal conflicts breaking out, much of the clan’s functionality had become paralyzed.

‘Calypso is quite wise. In times like these, it’s better to take a step back and observe. However, since I’m Arael’s blood relative, they won’t just leave me alone if I try to sit this out.’

In this situation, instead of carrying out the Emperor’s messenger duties, Azadine had to either wait for the turmoil to settle, like Calypso, or actively join either Arael’s faction or the Elders’ Council in their political struggle.

However, as Arael’s brother, Azadine couldn’t afford to stall for time like Calypso. He had no choice but to ask for something else.

“Then at least tell me about Ject the Arbiter’s movements and be careful. That Holy Knight is suspicious. He’s using the power of the Nether.”

“Understood. Holy Knights are always something to be wary of.”

“Alright.”

Azadine left the Peddler Guild and returned to his companions. On the way back, Ismail spoke up.

“You must be proud of your sister’s success.”

“What do you mean?”

“She said she values you, didn’t she? Even when you resist her, she doesn’t try to kill you. Why don’t you just surrender to her?”

“You really don’t like me, do you?”

“Do I have any reason to like you?”

“But even a typical servant wouldn’t openly show hostility toward their superior messenger. You seriously lack social skills. Though, I suppose you don’t just act this way toward me.”

Azadine recalled how Ismail had fearlessly stood his ground even before Arael and the Four of Flowers, Birds, Wind, and Moon.

‘This guy… I see. How unfortunate.’

Azadine had a rough idea of Ismail’s true identity. Considering his background, it was no surprise that he was constantly on edge and confrontational with everyone.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking that life must be tough for you at such a young age.”

“What?”

Ismail, despite being the one to throw barbed words, looked dissatisfied when Azadine didn’t take him seriously.

“Let’s go back and prepare to leave Lantarique. There’s no reason to stay here any longer.”

Since Arael had appeared at Lantarique Castle, lingering here was dangerous. Thinking this, Azadine prepared to leave as soon as they returned.

Just as they were about to depart, someone called out to them from behind.

“Hey, Azadine!”

“Calypso?”

“Wait! Don’t go to Coral Sahar! It’s a disaster!”

“A disaster? What happened?”

“News just came in—Coral Sahar is under attack!”

“By what?”

“That is….”

The King of Korasar was Ansethus IV, a brilliant man in his youth who had outmaneuvered all his rivals to seize the throne. One of those he had defeated was Count Casel of Salasma.

However, after securing his position as king, Ansethus IV indulged in hedonism, ignoring the kingdom’s borders and rarely leaving his palace.

Having eliminated all major competitors and solidified his authority, he had abandoned his once-sharp intellect and become a pleasure-seeker.

But today, he was presiding over a state council meeting for the first time in a long while, seated on his throne with an uncharacteristically vigorous expression.

This was because outside the palace, thunder was roaring, and storm winds were raging.

Summer typhoons were not uncommon in Korasar. However, a typhoon that remained stationary, pouring rain and unleashing storms for an entire week, was a rare and devastating event.

“The docks have been destroyed by rising seawater, and the lowlands and riverbanks are flooded due to the backflow. Seawater is pushing upstream into the river, and the rescue workers, operating in three shifts, have been working nonstop for a week without rest.”

As the typhoon battered Coral Sahar and the surrounding lowlands flooded, even the usually negligent King Ansethus was forced to take action.

His first order was to mobilize the navy. Since the storm had kept larger ships docked, naval forces used small boats to rescue people from the submerged lowlands and transport them to higher ground.

So far, everything had gone as planned—but the problem was that the rain showed no signs of stopping.

“A landslide has struck the refugee camps on the high ground.”

“Send help to the refugees….”

“But they are all completely exhausted.”

“After forcing them to work in three shifts for an entire week without rest, they’ve started collapsing from exhaustion or drowning in the floodwaters.”

The soldiers were already exhausted from the ongoing efforts to rescue and evacuate the people.

On top of that, believing the rain would stop soon, they had evacuated people to higher ground—which turned out to be a mistake.

As the rain continued to pour without ceasing, the highlands were struck by landslides. Rescuing the refugees who were swept away by the landslides now required double the manpower.

“We need to relocate the remaining refugees. If we lack people, bring in reinforcements from other regions.”

“The problem is… the national treasury is nearly empty.”

“How much money is left in the treasury?”

“Approximately 2,000 ryang of silver.”

Ryang was a weight unit used by dwarves, and 2,000 ryang of silver was an amount so vast that ordinary people could hardly comprehend it.

However, in Korasar’s prime, its annual revenue was around 120,000 ryang. Even now, the kingdom still collected about 60,000 ryang per year.

It was a standard principle to accumulate funds during peacetime to prepare for war or famine, meaning the treasury should have held much more than this.

Yet, despite no major conflicts, the treasury was nearly empty.

“I must have indulged too much since becoming king. How many thieves have been dipping their hands into the treasury?”

“…….”

“The people must be furious with me, aren’t they?”

King Ansethus IV directly asked his retainers. Their expressions turned complicated.

-“The Light of the Crown is weakening because an unworthy king sits on the throne! That’s why there’s a drought in Salasma and a typhoon in Coral Sahar!”

Of course, they couldn’t say that outright.

No matter how much the king had neglected his duties, he was still the king, and they were still his retainers. Moreover, it was these same retainers who had taken advantage of the king’s inattention to siphon off funds from the treasury.

“Th-that is…”

“I won’t hold you accountable, so hand over whatever you have stashed away.”

“…….”

“If we secure additional funds and manpower, can we evacuate the refugees further away and resolve the situation?”

“That… there are also troubling rumors circulating.”

“What kind of rumors?”

“People claim that at night, strange merfolk appear and attack them.”

“Nonsense! That’s obviously just a wild rumor. The Royal Navy has investigated thoroughly, and there have been no verified casualties caused by merfolk! Most deaths are due to accidents or exhaustion!”

Duke Dixion, the commander of Korasar’s navy, trembled with frustration as he spoke.

“Use the navy to evacuate the victims and have the merchants procure food. Avoid landslide-prone areas and establish refugee camps only in secure locations.”

In the end, the king could only issue broad directives.

Calypso flailed dramatically as he spoke.

“Coral Sahar is completely devastated! The news just came in.”

“…That doesn’t make sense.”

Azadine tilted his head at Calypso’s words.

The Messenger Clan didn’t simply walk from place to place delivering messages—they had the Emperor’s Voice, an artificial spirit for communication. Even without that, they used various magical means to transmit information.

If the typhoon had lasted for two weeks and flooded Coral Sahar, that news should have spread much sooner.

Even though the Messenger Clan was divided between Arael’s faction and the Elders’ Council, making them constantly at odds, it was strange that such critical information hadn’t reached them until now.

“They say the typhoon is magical in nature.”

“A magical typhoon? Who was the Messenger assigned to Coral Sahar?”

“Messenger of the 24th rank, Zenis. He’s Dimia of the Flower’s younger brother.”

“…….”

“So, are you still going, Azadine? Or maybe you should stay here and reconcile with Arael? And while you’re at it, how about getting me a nice position? I’ve actually admired Lady Arael for a long time. She’s still single, right? No fiancé, correct?”

“Oh, come on. Enough. I’m going!”

Azadine waved his hand as if shooing away a fly, dismissing Calypso before heading out through the gates of Lantarique.

As Azadine’s group set off for Coral Sahar, they encountered large groups of weary travelers heading in the opposite direction—merchants who had gone there only to be turned away.

Along the road, the merchants shouted to passersby.

“Don’t go to Coral Sahar!”

“The king has declared a requisition order!”

“They’re seizing all food and goods and handing out vouchers instead!”

“And the vouchers dissolve in the rain! I don’t know where they found such thin paper! What a clever scam!”

In times of war, when supplies were requisitioned, it was customary to issue vouchers on cloth or parchment—durable materials that wouldn’t easily be damaged.

Using thin, cheap paper meant that the officials who issued them had no real intention of repaying the merchants.

The King’s Church demanded absolute loyalty from kings and nobles, but its foundation was built on the belief that it safeguarded the world from disasters and monsters through the Light of the Crown.

In other words, if disasters were rampant and monsters roamed freely, it signified that the current king was not a rightful ruler.