The Storm Of Coral Sahar (6)

The orcs’ aversion to muscles—something others desperately sought—left other races utterly dumbfounded.

Azadine quickly composed himself and went outside to interrogate the commander again.

“Well, then, what about the King of Coral Sahar? How are the humans handling the situation?”

“They’ve fortified the royal castle and are holding out. However, the flooding has split their forces, and all their supply lines have been severed. Even so, the king’s power is too strong, so we still haven’t been able to breach the fortress.”

“Really? How is that even… Did that Janis woman really manage to extinguish the Light of the Crown for a moment?”

“Yes.”

“Is that even possible?”

“It must be. Otherwise, how else would we have been able to invade this city?”

“Hmm.”

Hearing this, Azadine realized the severity of the situation in Coral Sahar.

Wasn’t the King of Korasar barricading himself in the royal castle with his retainers, while the Nagas surrounded them and launched attacks?

With torrential rain and storms raging, not only was rescue out of the question, but even the forces currently in Korasar couldn’t reinforce each other.

Moreover, this information hadn’t yet reached the outside world—neither the King’s Church nor the neighboring territories knew what was happening.

“This is a dire crisis.”

“I’ve told you everything I know. Now let me go, as promised.”

“……”

When Azadine nodded, Mediam and Ismail untied the Naga from the mast.

Once freed, the Naga captain bowed to Azadine.

“You are a warm-blooded creature who understands honor. I appreciate that. As for that traitor of our clan…”

“No, I—”

“Go wedge some eggs in your cloaca. Three of them.”

Leaving those parting words behind, the Naga commander dove into the water and swiftly disappeared.

“…I can’t believe I’m saying this, but are you crazy? Why did you let him go?”

“Why? To track him, of course.”

“Track him?”

“Yes.”

Azadine replied to Shati, then ordered Ismail and Mediam to release their scouting birds to follow the freed Naga commander.

“That’s a good idea. But wait… I was seasick, and now that I’m on land, this feels just as bad…”

Sion Ethar, his stomach still unsettled, gagged dryly.

“Could you not? Even drunks try to keep their vomiting discreet, so why are you acting so shamelessly?”

“I have no sins to hide, so why should I conceal anything? The Ethar bloodline always carries itself with dignity.”

“You heard him, Mediam. Do you agree with that?”

“Ah, no. That’s completely different. Even dignified people don’t make a spectacle of themselves when they use the bathroom, right?”

Mediam shook her head at Azadine’s pointed question.

“I was holding the ship’s rudder, that’s why. Anyway, I’ll stay here for a bit, wash up, and change my clothes. Watch the ship for a moment, and go ahead without me.”

“Are you sure? Staying behind alone could be dangerous.”

Zebec was worried that Sion wanted to remain alone, but Azadine shook his head.

“Sion is a former Messenger. He’ll be fine—he’s quite skilled.”

Sure enough, Sion, still dry-heaving, simply waved them off with a hand.

“Hmm.”

Mediam looked troubled.

As a child, she had admired Sion Ethar.

A handsome and dashing older cousin. For someone like her—who viewed anyone outside the Ethar bloodline as less than human—Sion was a stunning young man of her generation. It was impossible not to admire him.

But now that she was older, something felt… off. Has he always been this strange?

Mediam was grappling with the disconnect between her childhood admiration and the reality before her.

At that moment—

“Hey, can I stay behind with that Sion guy or whatever? Honestly, walking around everywhere is too stressful.”

Shati said this while trailing behind Azadine.

From what she had gathered, the ones orchestrating the chaos here seemed to be the Naga Empire. If she got caught up in this mess, there was no way she could return to the Nagas.

She was already branded a traitor, and if she kept following Azadine’s group, there would be no room for excuses.

“I don’t know the internal affairs of the Nagas well. We need you to interpret the information we gather. Honestly, I didn’t even know Nagas were divided into Water Serpent Tribes, Sea Serpent Tribes, and Dry Land Tribes.”

“Aren’t you even a little suspicious that I might betray you? Why are you keeping me around?”

“Well…”

Azadine trailed off.

‘Even if you did betray us, I could kill you in one strike, so I don’t feel burdened keeping you around.’

He couldn’t exactly say that out loud.

‘Even if she’s a Naga, that would be a bit too cruel. I should at least make her feel good about herself.’

So, Azadine gave her a compliment that he didn’t really mean.

“You’re beautiful, so having you around brightens the atmosphere.”

“That’s it? That’s your reason…?”

“Well, also, your healing magic is incredibly useful. It’s been a huge help.”

“Oh. You little… Don’t think you’ll get anything from flattering me!”

Despite her words, Shati’s ears turned red, twitching slightly.

‘She really likes compliments, huh?’

The Nagas had a strictly hierarchical society, where those of low birth could only rise through the ritual of reincarnation.

It wasn’t a joke—there was literally no other way to climb the social ladder besides dying and being reborn. Count Casel of Salasma had transformed into a Naga precisely through that reincarnation ritual.

As a result, Shati had never experienced self-affirmation in her life. Now, with Azadine openly praising her, she was at a loss.

She had certainly encountered human men who complimented her beauty, but as a Naga—who revered the logic of power—she had dismissed such sweet talk as nothing more than attempts to win her favor.

Azadine had no reason to flatter her—she was already his captive.

For someone in a position of power, freely offering compliments could only be interpreted as genuine sincerity.

‘W-What do I do? This feels… nice.’

Shati was flustered by Azadine’s words of praise.

“Click, click.”

Mediam, watching from the side, clicked her tongue.

“Anyway, those Water Serpent Nagas are incredibly fast. They run across the water like it’s solid ground, which is making the distance between us grow.”

Ismail was panting as he sent out scouting birds to track the Water Serpent Naga.

The streets of Coral Sahar were in complete disarray—flooded paths, landslides, and collapsed structures had turned the city into a ruinous mess.

With the roads submerged and debris blocking their way, it was no wonder that chasing down a Water Serpent Naga, who could move freely across water, was proving so difficult.

Murky floodwaters, their depths unknown, filled the streets. Rubble from collapsed buildings obstructed their path.

The few routes that remained passable had been barricaded with furniture, and men stood behind them, weapons in hand, their eyes gleaming with desperation.

“Heh, heh, heh.”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Hand over some food. And if you leave the women behind, that’d be even better.”

“Hm?”

They had instinctively blocked the path, but upon realizing Azadine’s group was larger than expected, they hesitated.

Azadine’s party consisted of six members—Azadine, Mediam, Ismail, Zebec, Scott, and Shati. Though there were only two women, the overall group wasn’t small. More importantly, Scott’s massive frame was intimidating.

Even without his armor, Zebec was an imposing figure, but without the telltale gear of a Holy Knight, he didn’t draw as much attention as Scott.

“These guys look too strong.”

“Hm. And well-armed too.”

It was clear at a glance that Azadine’s group was no ordinary band of travelers. A fight would inevitably lead to casualties. But the bandits were starved, their minds frayed by stress—they weren’t thinking rationally.

“If we’re going to die anyway, might as well do something before we starve.”

As they steeled themselves for battle, Azadine stepped forward.

“I am Azadine, the 108th Messenger of the Emperor.”

He declared his identity outright. The bandits blocking the road flinched.

“A M-Messenger Clan member?”

“Ha! Kid, if you’re from the Messenger Clan, then I’m a dragon—”

“Shut up, you idiot. What if he’s telling the truth?”

Their fighting spirit wavered. The notorious reputation of the Messenger Clan was proving useful.

“Hey, what are you planning to do?”

“You’re siding with the Nagas? Has the Messenger Clan lost its mind?”

The bandits bombarded Azadine with questions.

It seemed clear now—if the Nagas had been brought into Coral Sahar, it was the doing of the Messenger Clan, specifically Arael’s faction.

“Well, it wasn’t us. Who told you that the Messenger Clan brought in the Nagas?”

“We didn’t hear it—we saw it with our own eyes.”

“A witch from the Messenger Clan extinguished the lighthouse flame in the southwest district. Then, the sky seemed to crack open, and a storm swept in.”

“And the Nagas came flooding in from the sea and river.”

“You saw this happen yourselves?”

Azadine asked, and the bandits hesitated.

“Well, actually, we heard it from the night watch.”

“I saw it myself! I was working security at the docks—”

“You idiot, you were so drunk you couldn’t even recognize your own wife that night.”

“…Okay, yeah, that’s true.”

“……”

At that moment, Ismail signaled Azadine.

“We can’t follow the Naga we were tracking anymore. There are too many of them.”

“Oh? What’s the situation?”

“The Nagas are besieging Coral Sahar’s inner fortress. The Naga we were tracking entered their encampment.”

“The inner fortress is under siege?”

“Yes. Their numbers are at least a thousand.”

A force of a thousand attacking Coral Sahar was nothing short of madness.

However, with the city’s roads cut off by heavy rains and the Nagas each possessing the strength of ten regular soldiers, the odds weren’t as unreasonable as they seemed.

“Understood. Good work.”

Azadine acknowledged Ismail’s report before turning back to the bandits.

“You’ll let us pass, right?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“But, uh… do you have any food?”

Scott’s eyes gleamed.

“No! I barely have enough for myself!”

“……”

He wasn’t wrong.

Beyond the bandits’ barricade, they could finally see the Naga encampment.

The Nagas had taken over key buildings—trading posts, merchant offices—and turned them into their strongholds, dispatching scouting teams to patrol the city.

With the inner fortress already surrounded, these scouting units had two purposes: preventing hidden tunnels from being used for supply deliveries and capturing humans.

Queen Debyslin, the Nagas’ ruler, was known to favor human sacrifice. When the Naga Empire ruled over Hubris in the past, they had built pyramids of blood, ensuring that not a single day passed without a fresh sacrifice.

The scouting teams weren’t just capturing people to stop secret supply routes—they were gathering them as food.

“Aaagh!”

“P-Please, spare us!”

From the top of a four-story stone pharmacy, screams echoed.

Several Nagas stood at the building’s entrance, scanning their surroundings. It seemed a Naga scouting party had discovered humans hiding inside.

“What should we do?”

Mediam asked Azadine.

Realistically, they had no obligation to save these people.

But Azadine had once told Mediam that saving the people of Hubris was an act of beauty—and that without aesthetics, a Messenger’s duty was nothing but a shackle.

“We’ll do the best we can.”

Azadine inspected his bowstring and prepared for battle.