Independent Path (3)

Elder Sebali warned Azadine.

“Arael… is not an ordinary opponent. You defeated me, but I don’t wish to see you throw your life away on such reckless actions. Can’t you reconcile? From what I see, it doesn’t seem like you’re doing this out of loyalty to the Council.”

“…….”

“Of course, I understand. You’re acting according to your pride and philosophy. But when you live long enough, you realize one thing—there’s no need to risk your life for philosophy or ideology. Living by instinct alone is not something to be condemned.”

“To live that way, I must put an end to the tampering with the old gods of the Nether.”

“Even though all of Aragasa craves it? If you do this, you’ll have no place left anywhere. The fact that I’m here should tell you that even the Council will eventually acknowledge Arael’s faction. As long as they grant some degree of recognition to the privileges of the Five Great Bloodlines, an agreement will be reached. And yet, you still resist?”

Sebali was, surprisingly, genuinely concerned for Azadine. Otherwise, there was no reason for him to say all this.

Despite Arael’s rebellion, the Council would ultimately recognize it. That meant resisting Arael’s vision was the same as resisting all of Aragasa.

Sebali was warning Azadine of this reality.

“I appreciate your concern.”

Azadine expressed his gratitude.

“No. You defeated me, so now my honor rests on your shoulders.”

“I doubt that’s the only reason you’re sharing such valuable insights.”

“I, too, once dreamed of reconciliation with the people of Hubris. After all, the blood of emperors flows in our veins. I thought we could unite with them.”

“…….”

Even the stubborn elder, once thought to be an immovable old man, was once a youth with dreams of an ideal world. But the hatred Aragasa bore toward the people of Hubris ran so deep that even the brightest minds were shrouded in its mist.

“I fear that all of Aragasa may turn against you.”

“Is there truly no one left with a conscience?”

“Haha. You truly are like Aldis. I heard Aldis cherished you. Well, I’m the loser, so do as you will.”

“I understand.”

While they spoke, Azadine arrived at the royal castle of Coral Sahar.

The lowlands were flooded, with the outer castle walls submerged beyond a man’s height. The outer fortress had already fallen to the Nagas, and the surviving humans had retreated to the inner keep.

Countless Naga corpses floated on the water’s surface, but it was evident that Coral Sahar was on the brink of destruction.

“So, what’s your plan?”

“I need to infiltrate the castle and have an audience with the King of Korasar. Additionally, Arael’s Aragasa are likely engaging in sabotage right now, so I’ll have to deal with them.”

“What about me?”

“I will release you. I cannot carry you over the walls.”

“Are you sure? If you let me go, I’ll no longer be your hostage…”

“If you value honor, ensure that my comrades are not harmed.”

“That’s all you ask of me?”

“Yes.”

Azadine said this and then truly freed Elder Sebali.

“You are truly an unpredictable man.”

“Then, I leave it to you.”

With that, Azadine abandoned Elder Sebali and sprinted toward the castle walls.

The sea-serpent Nagas were startled, but Azadine shouted that he was from the Messenger Clan and launched himself at the wet walls, swiftly scaling them and leaping over the top.

Coral Sahar Castle was built using the pinnacle of contemporary fortification techniques, boasting an immense defensive capability.

Situated atop a coastal cliff, it was nearly impossible to breach from the water.

On land, any approaching force would have to face three terrifying layers of walls. These triple walls were connected by drawbridges, which could be retracted, forcing intruders to spiral around the walls—a nightmarish defense system for attackers.

However, the relentless torrential rains had weakened parts of the castle’s foundation, and Aragasa’s agents, adept at moving like phantoms over the battlefield, had infiltrated with ease, quickly opening the gates.

Then, the Naga army, which moved seamlessly between land and water, stormed inside, effortlessly seizing the outermost wall.

Two inner walls still remained, but the Messenger Clan’s operatives attacked without rest, firing arrows and retreating at all hours, exhausting the defenders to their limits.

This relentless fatigue soon led to unforeseen consequences.

“Uwaaaaah!”

“They’re coming!”

The exhausted soldiers scratched at their own faces, drawing blood.

Whenever they fell asleep, they suffered horrifying nightmares.

And whenever those afflicted were stationed as sentries atop the walls, all of them—without exception—experienced the same hallucination: a colossal beast from the sea looming over them.

“N-No!”

“The god of the Nether is coming for us!”

“Help!”

As the afflicted descended into madness, their hysteria spread, pulling in other soldiers and further draining their morale.

“This is insane. No, saying that in front of actual madmen isn’t the best idea, but seriously, I feel like going crazy myself.”

“Damn it. But… I swear, whenever lightning strikes, I see the silhouette of a massive giant in the sea.”

“Don’t look. It’s just your mind breaking down. Just hold on a little longer. Reinforcements are coming for sure. We’ve sent out messengers, and with how much trade we do, someone is bound to respond. Help will come.”

Just then, a lone young man appeared atop the inner castle wall.

“Huh?”

“Reinforcements?! Are those reinforcements?!”

Amidst their harsh reality, the delirious soldiers immediately mistook the newcomer for reinforcements.

Given how many times the Messenger Clan had infiltrated, common sense dictated that anyone scaling the walls was likely a Messenger operative. Yet, the soldiers had clung so desperately to the hope of reinforcements that they instinctively wanted to believe it.

“What reinforcements?! That’s a Messenger operative!”

The squad leader, who still had his wits about him, realized the truth. He initially thought the newcomer was wearing a helmet, but upon closer inspection, it was a mask.

“Look, he’s wearing a mask! Among the Messenger Clan, this one is a real Messenger!”

“Wait.”

The young man who had climbed up the castle wall raised his hand.

“I didn’t come to fight. I came to talk.”

“What? Aren’t you from the Messenger Clan?”

“I am. But I wish to have an audience with the King of Korasar.”

“D-Don’t be ridiculous.”

The Messenger Clan were the greatest assassins. For one of them to request an audience with the king was obviously unacceptable.

“Disarm yourself! If you surrender your weapons—”

However, the young Messenger completely ignored the order to disarm and suddenly sat down on the spot.

“Huh? Y-You bastard!”

“What’s going on?!”

The soldiers were flustered by the unexpected action.

The young man paid no mind to their raised weapons and pointed to his mask.

“Judging by your stance, you’re not a knight but a sergeant, correct? You don’t have the authority to disarm me. Go relay my request to your superiors. I’ll be waiting here. Hurry.”

“W-What?! This bastard!”

The squad leader was enraged by the blatant disregard for his command, but as soon as the Messenger snapped his fingers, a gust of wind swept across the wall, scattering the rainwater like a slicing blade.

“Urgh?!”

“It wasn’t easy getting here. I need to rest.”

With that, the young Messenger took out some rations and started eating.

“Oh.”

Eating in front of an enemy was a sign that one had no intention to fight. The already weary soldiers, reluctant to engage in battle, felt their tension dissipate upon seeing him casually eat.

“Go call your superiors and keep someone here to watch me.”

“…What should I even say?”

“Tell them I am Azadine, the 108th Imperial Messenger. We are hostile to Arael’s faction, the ones currently attacking you.”

“…….”

“The Messenger Clan is not united. We are engaged in a power struggle. Do you understand now?”

“A-Alright, I’ll pass on the message.”

Hearing this, the soldiers assigned a few men to guard him and withdrew.

‘Good. They’re obedient. They must have fought the Messenger Clan before.’

Azadine could tell that the sergeant was afraid of him.

The sergeant and knights had already suffered during the fall of the outer fortress, harassed by the assassinations and ambushes of the Messenger Clan. They knew all too well how dangerous their combat skills were, and the sight of Azadine immediately filled them with fear.

On top of that, the growing influence of the Nether had worsened the soldiers’ conditions.

Given their state, they would avoid a fight if possible. Since Azadine wasn’t showing hostility, they had no reason to provoke him.

Their order to disarm him had been nothing more than an empty threat.

“But this situation is far worse than I expected.”

As Azadine ate, he noticed a young soldier staring at him. The boy, barely more than a child, wore an ill-fitting helmet and sucked on his fingers as he eyed the food.

“Want some?”

“…Yeah.”

Azadine handed him a portion of his rations, and the boy greedily stuffed it into his mouth. Other soldiers rushed over, begging for food, leaving Azadine momentarily bewildered.

‘What if I had poisoned it? Are they really this desperate? Has their supply line been cut off?’

For them to be so starved that they would eat without question… it meant they were suffering from severe food shortages.

That was unthinkable.

Even though royal castles rarely came under siege, they were always stocked with at least a year’s worth of food. Yet, this siege had barely begun, and they were already out of supplies?

“The food hasn’t run out, but we’re out of fuel.”

“Ah.”

Without firewood or coal, they had no way to cook.

At that moment, a royal messenger from Coral Sahar approached Azadine.

“Your audience has been granted. However… you may not carry large weapons.”

“Fine.”

Azadine set down the Naga scimitar slung over his back.

“The bow as well…”

“Of course.”

Azadine also set down his iron bow—a component of a heavy crossbow—its sheer weight was tremendous.

The soldiers escorting him took it without much thought but were shocked by the weight, accidentally dropping it onto the stone floor. The metallic clang echoed like thunder.

The soldiers recoiled in disbelief.

‘He climbed the walls carrying that?’

‘Is this guy even human? Can anyone even draw that bow?’

Although Azadine had surrendered his main weapons, he still had the Wendigo’s dagger, the guard captain’s halberd head, and several throwing knives.

Fortunately, the royal messenger and knights did not demand those.

“Come this way.”

“Understood.”

Azadine followed them through the inner keep. Coral Sahar, with its multiple defensive layers, still had another stronghold within. As they moved, Azadine saw numerous refugees.

‘Disease is spreading.’

People who had waded through filthy water were now suffering from necrotic skin infections. With the land flooded, they had no proper refuge, forcing the sick to live alongside the healthy. What should have been a simple skin infection was spreading like a plague.