The Quartz Throne (2)

When Aldoff launched his ambush on Azadine, he was confident in his skills and certain of victory.

But now, he was afraid. Fear paralyzed him, making him desperately search for an excuse not to move.

Even though staying still only led directly to death, his terror was pushing him towards it.

It was an irrational response, but instinctual nonetheless.

Sir Aldoff, using chivalry as an excuse, had collapsed into despair.

“Ah, what a hassle.”

Azadine, noticing Aldoff’s condition, casually picked up the azure steel sword from his hand.

“What should we do, Nefti?”

“Kill him.”

“Hmm. A pity to waste a life just because of emotional attachment, but oh well.”

Kahsan, regretful, drew his bow. But at that moment—

“Who are you people?!”

“Tsk….”

Knights and soldiers approached from the inner courtyard, witnessing the scene.

“Damn!”

There were too many of them. If there were fewer, they could have simply killed them and moved on, but with a force about the size of a platoon, including knights, eliminating them all at once wasn’t feasible.

More importantly, to swiftly subdue Azadine, they would need to use the Shadowsteel Blade. But with this many soldiers around, concentrating the Shadowsteel Blade on Azadine would be difficult.

“Retreat!”

Sion gave up on eliminating Azadine and withdrew.

“You… you bastards!”

“Hey! Stop right there!”

“Drop your weapons!”

The soldiers rushed toward Nefti, Sion, and Kahsan—but arrows rained down upon them.

“Che!”

Azadine leaped forward, deflecting the arrows, but he couldn’t protect everyone. Some soldiers fell to the attack, and their hesitation in pursuing gave Sion’s group the opening they needed to escape.

“Urgh.”

“Hey! Messenger Clan scum!”

Despite Azadine saving their lives by blocking the arrows, the knights still found fault with him. At that moment, Sir Aldoff stood up.

“Enough! Can’t you see he was trying to save you?!”

“Sir Aldoff, but….”

“Stand down! He is not our enemy!”

Aldoff extended his hand in acknowledgment.

“Hm. Alright, then. A handshake.”

Azadine grasped his hand, but Sir Aldoff shook his head.

“Oh, right. The Azure Blade.”

Azadine returned the azure steel sword to Aldoff.

“Messenger. Your name?”

“The Emperor’s Messenger, 108th Order, Azadine.”

“I won’t forget what you did today. But I’d appreciate it if you kept what you saw secret as well.”

“What part? Nefti? Or Kahsan?”

“…….”

“So, both? Don’t worry. I tend to keep my mouth shut.”

“P-please… I beg you, keep this secret….”

Aldoff trembled as he recalled Kahsan.

“Whatever trick you pulled, Aldoff has calmed down.”

Ansethus IV looked at Azadine with admiration.

“And I heard you also dealt with the poisoned provisions?”

“I didn’t deal with it.”

“No, I didn’t even tell you about it, yet you accomplished more than expected. I also heard you fought against the Messenger Clan? Is it true?”

“Well, rather than a battle….”

Azadine pulled out the Shadowsteel Blades and smirked.

“The Shadowsteel Blades, huh.”

“You recognize them?”

“Aren’t they arrows forged from shadowsteel that can store powerful magic? They’re already sharp and heavy on their own, but they also hold immense curses and magical energy. I’ve heard of them, but this is my first time seeing them in person. They look more like iron stakes than arrows.”

“Yes. And they shot these at me without hesitation. Thanks to that, I was wounded. If I don’t treat my injuries, I might not survive our next encounter.”

Azadine subtly highlighted his own sacrifice, prompting a smile from Ansethus IV.

“Interesting. So even the Messenger Clan isn’t unified.”

“Yes. But isn’t that the same everywhere?”

“If they’re willing to use Shadowsteel Blades, it means they weren’t just acting. They were genuinely trying to kill each other. Or… perhaps your reputation is so fearsome that they knew even Shadowsteel Blades wouldn’t be enough?”

Ansethus IV’s words carried an undertone of suspicion.

He was still questioning whether this supposed conflict had been staged to bring Azadine closer to him.

“I am of the 108th Order. The lowest rank.”

Azadine feigned ignorance. Typically, a messenger of the 108th rank wouldn’t survive against higher-ranked messengers—especially if they were using Shadowsteel Blades.

In other words, this wasn’t a ploy. That was the message Azadine was sending.

Ansethus IV chuckled at Azadine’s audacity before turning serious.

“There’s an underground passage leading to the throne of Coral Sahar.”

“An underground passage?”

“The secret passage of the castle also serves as an access route to the foundation where the throne is rooted into the earth. But right now, with the heavy rain, it is completely submerged.”

“Ah.”

“They might have done something there before the rain started. But honestly, I hadn’t thought about that possibility before. Even before this, the Light of the Crown was clearly weakening. I simply assumed it was because I was unfit to be king.”

“…….”

“The throne of Yaegas truly feels like a curse. They say that only the rightful king can sit upon it and allow the Light of the Crown to protect the world. If the Light of the Crown weakens, does that not mean I lack the qualifications? That thought alone fills me with fear and self-loathing.”

“Even so, you must uphold your duty. The Divine King of Yaegas does not have the privilege of despair.”

“Hahaha. ‘No right to despair,’ huh? A fair point. I never expected to hear such words from a member of the Messenger Clan.”

Ansethus IV removed one of the necklaces he wore and handed it to Azadine.

“This is?”

“A Necklace of Water Breathing. A magical artifact that accumulates mana from the wearer’s life force over time. It will be useful to you, being a Messenger.”

“It grants water breathing? How long does it last?”

“For me, after wearing it for a full day, I could use it for about a minute the next day.”

“Only a minute?”

“I wore it daily for a year, so I have about 200 minutes stored up.”

“Why exactly 200 minutes?”

“I took it off at night when I was with women.”

“Ah, I see.”

Azadine put the necklace around his neck.

“It’s yours now. Just take it. You’ll need it.”

Ansethus IV repeated himself.

This was a subtle way of emphasizing that he knew the Messenger Clan’s spellbook, Flowers, Birds, Wind, Moon, did not contain a water-breathing spell.

“Thank you.”

Azadine bowed to Ansethus IV and left.

“Captain!”

As Azadine exited the inner citadel, he was met by an unexpected sight.

Scott McGreen, the orc, and Shati, the Naga, were waiting for him.

“Where’s Sir Zebec?”

“Over there.”

Sir Zebec was sitting dazedly but stood up upon seeing Azadine.

“Good. You’re safe. But how did you find me?”

“Finding you was easy. Everyone in the castle has been talking about the bold Messenger Clan member strutting around. It wasn’t hard at all.”

“How did you survive? Did Sion Ethar let you go?”

Azadine asked as he extended his injured arm—wounded while deflecting the Shadowsteel Blade—to Shati.

“Hah! You shameless bastard.”

“Please, help.”

“Ugh.”

Shati grumbled but began treating Azadine’s wound. Meanwhile, Scott started recounting what had happened.

“That nauseous little Messenger who boarded the ship with us? He and his men ambushed us. I was the first to get knocked out….”

“Then it was my turn. That brat Ismail nearly snapped my neck with his strike.”

Shati added.

From what Shati described, it seemed that Mediam and Ismail had been unable to resist Sion, an older member of the Ethar bloodline.

“And you, Sir Zebec?”

“Well… shamefully, I surrendered. They took hostages, so I couldn’t fight.”

“No, you did the right thing. No need to shed blood needlessly. Where were you imprisoned?”

“In the castle dungeon.”

“This castle? The royal fortress of Coral Sahar?”

“Yes. It seems quite a number of Messenger Clan members infiltrated the place. They were remarkably organized.”

Well, that made sense.

After all, the headquarters of the Korasar Peddler Guild was located in Coral Sahar. Messenger Clan members had always moved in and out of this place freely.

“How did you escape?”

“Mediam freed us.”

“So, you didn’t escape on your own?”

“That’s right.”

Zebec still looked embarrassed.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Getting captured or killed in battle is just part of life.”

Azadine reassured Zebec, then turned back to Scott. If he wanted a clear explanation, he would have to rely on Scott.

“She couldn’t betray the Ethar bloodline, but she told us to help you, Captain.”

“Hmph. A traitor speaking about loyalty?”

Shati scoffed at Mediam’s choice.

Now, that was rich coming from her.

Azadine found it ironic. Shati, herself a traitor to the Naga bloodline, was criticizing Mediam and Ismail for betraying their own. Since when did she become part of his group to even judge betrayal?

“Well, if we had stayed imprisoned, we’d be dead by now. We should be grateful she let us go.”

Scott surprisingly held no grudges.

Then again, this guy never seemed to hold grudges.

Azadine was always impressed by Scott’s casual attitude.

“At least we all made it out alive.”

Mediam had freed them, and she had done so easily. But Azadine could only imagine the kind of turmoil she must have gone through.

Now that the Ethar bloodline had sworn allegiance to Arael’s faction, Mediam couldn’t openly reject or betray them. Yet, she had defied them in her own way by freeing Azadine’s allies.

“Azadine, won’t Mediam suffer for this? She freed us, and they’ll find out soon.”

Zebec was anxious, knowing that Mediam, a mere girl, had put herself in danger for them.

As a knight of the King’s Church, he had always treated Mediam as an enemy. Yet, now that he owed his life to her, his beliefs were shaken.

“She’s the heir of the Ethar bloodline. They won’t harm her for this. But I need to act fast. If I cause enough chaos, they’ll be too busy fighting among themselves to focus on her.”

“I understand. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

“Good. Then let me explain what’s been happening.”

Azadine began briefing them on what he had learned during their separation.

The Messenger Clan—specifically Arael’s faction—was weakening the Light of the Crown through some means and had allied with the Nagas to seize the throne of Coral Sahar.

Once the Nagas completely took over Coral Sahar, the Messenger Clan would then emerge, take control of the throne, and use its power to drive the Nagas out.

Afterward, they planned to use the Heavenly King’s Book of Truth to lift the Curse of Servitude binding the Messenger Clan.

After hearing this, Zebec clicked his tongue.

“What an outrageous scheme. As a holy knight of the King’s Church, I could never have imagined something like this.”

“The problem is, many people believe it’s possible and are willing to gamble everything on it. Arael must have shown them something to convince them.”

“Ah, don’t misunderstand. I’m not shocked because I doubt you. I’m realizing how narrow-minded I’ve been all this time.”

Zebec was frustrated with himself.

As a knight bound by the King’s Church’s strict rules, he had even tolerated the atrocities of Kozel, the Count of Salasma’s son, out of obligation.

But now, the world was changing too rapidly. He could no longer afford to be shackled by the King’s Church’s dogma.

Even so, the deep-seated teachings of the church still held him back, restricting him like chains wrapped around his soul.