The Rampage Of The Thralls (5)

The plaza was still filled with people seething in anger and grief. They had fled after being struck by a sudden typhoon in Coral Sahar and lost their homes, only to be attacked by humans who had turned into monsters for reasons they couldn’t understand. With nowhere to direct their sorrow and rage, they were on the verge of madness.

In front of people like this, every word and action had to be chosen with utmost caution.

“Wh-what in the world is going on? Why are people turning into monsters…?”

“They killed my family! What’s going on here?”

“P-people say only those who took the Blue Turban Party’s elixir turned into monsters. Is that true?”

“No, the priest would never do such a thing!”

“It was that woman! That strange woman and the clown, they’re the ones who—”

“Yes, the clowns!”

People began to recall Arael’s group, who had been disguised as wandering merchants and performing tricks.

Beside them, some people—either Blue Turban Party members or just locals—tried to redirect the crowd’s anger toward Arael’s group.

“First, everyone calm down. You there—how did you come back to your senses?”

Azadine pointed at those who had been berserk but regained their minds.

“That is…”

“The priest helped us recover our sanity.”

“See? The priest from the Blue Turban Party saved you with his arcane arts. Without the Blue Turban Party’s power, this whole situation could have ended in disaster.”

When Azadine openly sided with the Blue Turban Party, its members inwardly sighed in relief.

However, due to the Party’s history of shady deeds, others remained skeptical and raised questions.

“But why did this happen in the first place?”

“People who took the Blue Turban Party’s elixir mostly became monsters. Are you saying they bear no responsibility at all?”

Immediately, the Party members shifted all the blame to the clowns—specifically, Arael’s faction who had infiltrated the refugee camp in disguise.

“They’re the ones who poisoned it! It must be them!”

“No! It was the Blue Turban Party’s elixir that was poisoned!”

People grew frantic, whispering and theorizing every kind of conspiracy.

“Everyone, silence!”

As he spoke, Azadine invoked the Voice of the Emperor.

The artificial spirit attached to the imperial messenger, the Voice of the Emperor, amplified Azadine’s words until his voice rang out like a chorus of many.

“Ah.”

“……”

Everyone turned their attention to Azadine.

“As the blood of the Yaegas God Tribe thins, the Light of the Crown fades, and Jupiter’s influence grows, the blood of the old gods lying dormant in the Netherstrom begins to boil.”

With a firm stance and a clear, booming voice, Azadine proclaimed the prophecy of the Age of Jupiter.

“We are now in the Age of Jupiter. This terrible incident… even the storm in Coral Sahar, all of it was brought about by the power of the Nether.”

There was no falsehood in those words. While the Blue Turban Party had indeed spread the power of the Nether under the guise of an elixir, the root cause of all this was undeniably the Nether’s power.

“Fortunately, a strong new king has taken the throne in Coral Sahar. All those who came from there should return and prepare for the coming Age of Jupiter.”

With that, Azadine called over the Blue Turban Party priest.

“Yes?”

“Select trustworthy individuals to escort some of the refugees heading back to Coral Sahar.”

If those who consumed the Party’s elixir gathered in one place, it could mirror the rites conducted by followers of the Death God.

Thus, it was necessary to disperse Blue Turban Party members to prevent a recurrence.

“U-understood.”

The priest of the Blue Turban Party was in no position to object to Azadine’s orders.

“But, um, moving that many people will require food and supplies…”

“Use the resources the Blue Turban Party has hoarded.”

“Pardon? But even that won’t be enough…”

Azadine clicked his tongue and handed over some money.

He had accumulated quite a fortune, but even that was insufficient when it came to feeding numerous refugees.

“Use this to help manage the people.”

“Th-thank you.”

“Also, we’re heading to Vthuma. Could you write us a letter of recommendation or something so your members there will cooperate?”

“A recommendation? O-of course. Actually, take this as well…”

The priest handed Azadine a decorated club the length of his forearm.

“What is this?”

“This is the Blue Turban Party’s baton. It used to symbolize my rank… I’ll write the recommendation, but please take this as well.”

“……”

Azadine was at a loss for words upon realizing the priest was offering what was essentially his identification.

‘This guy… is he trying to bail and dump the whole thing on me? Just pawn it off on me like it’s some big favor? Isn’t he basically a mid-level cult leader? Handing me a position full of suffering with no real benefit?’

That’s what it seemed like… but thinking about his trip to Vthuma, it was probably best to accept it.

“If I take this, then what happens to you?”

Azadine’s voice naturally took on a sharp edge from his irritation.

“I’ve realized my inadequacy and wish to pass on the title of priest to you.”

Surely he knew Azadine was uncomfortable, yet the priest shamelessly tried to shift the burden.

“Just taking this club doesn’t make me a priest, does it? Isn’t it a position appointed by your leader? You can’t just hand it over like that.”

“The Heavenly Lord told us to willingly pass on our position when we realize our shortcomings. If there’s anything you don’t understand about our laws or structure, I’ll assist you.”

That at least meant the priest wasn’t simply taking the money and running.

Azadine looked back at his companions.

“Well, I suppose it’s fine.”

Shati replied absentmindedly.

‘To be honest, since I joined the Blue Turban Party on purpose, receiving the priest’s position is actually welcome. I just didn’t expect it to happen this easily.’

Azadine had intended to infiltrate the Blue Turban Party disguised as a regular follower, assess the organization, and use it if possible. But suddenly, he was being offered a high-ranking role.

“So, what’s your name again?”

“Oh, I’m Jiswa. And you are…?”

“Haven’t I already introduced myself once?”

“You said your name was Adan. That’s an alias, isn’t it?”

“What makes you think that?”

“You travel armed and in a group. You have an unusual presence and skill. My guess is, from the moment you approached us, you were trying to test us.”

Jiswa, the Blue Turban Party priest, had actually been suspicious of Azadine’s group from the start. Armed people moving around together who clearly weren’t merchants? They had to be either Cell Sword Guild members or bandits. That’s why he had them investigate Arael’s group, whom he had also found suspicious.

“And even knowing that, you’re handing me the priest position? Fine. My real name is Azadine.”

“You’re of the Messenger Clan, then. I had a feeling you were extraordinary.”

“How did you figure out I was a Messenger so quickly?”

“Isn’t Azadine a common name among your people? When the Messenger Clan first shipwrecked on Hubris, they landed near Vthuma. That area still retains quite a bit of knowledge about your kind—or rather, the Aragasa. If you want to hide your identity, I recommend continuing to go by Adan while in Vthuma.”

“But can I, an imperial messenger, even serve as a Blue Turban Party priest?”

Azadine asked the question.

Jiswa surely understood that Azadine, being a messenger of the emperor, wouldn’t be swayed by the ideals of the Blue Turban Party. However…

“These are chaotic times. I don’t think it really matters.”

Though he’d once been suspicious, Jiswa’s attitude had completely changed—perhaps because Azadine had saved his life during this recent incident. It now seemed like he was practically desperate to hand over his position, genuinely impressed by Azadine.

If it were a countship or throne, it might be considered a noble case of abdication. But in this case, it felt more like someone trying to offload a poisoned chalice, giving up a mid-tier cult leadership role.

‘I did intend to infiltrate the Blue Turban Party for investigation, but now that they’ve rolled out the red carpet, I’m not exactly thrilled.’

Zebec wasn’t feeling any better.

Just a few months ago, Zebec had been a model holy knight. Now, he was part of a group that included a Messenger, an orc necromancer, and a rogue priest from a cult.

Of course, it was due to Sir Ject’s misconduct that things turned out this way, and Zebec had no doubt about Azadine’s character. But anyone unfamiliar with Azadine would assume Zebec had fallen from grace.

“To be honest, I know nothing of the Blue Turban Party’s teachings. Can I really be a priest?”

“I know the teachings. And… if what that woman said is true, and the berserking among the Servants was caused by structural problems, then the teachings and the organization of the Blue Turban Party are fundamentally at odds. In practicing those teachings, you’ve already shown far more by using your own funds to help refugees.”

Like most cults, the Blue Turban Party’s teachings sounded wonderful on paper.

Jiswa’s argument was that Azadine was already fulfilling those lofty ideals, which made him perfectly suited to the priesthood.

‘This guy… he’s more perceptive than he looks. I’ll need to watch him.’

Azadine realized that Jiswa had probably figured out his true intentions.

Still, Azadine needed the Blue Turban Party’s organization.

So he also understood that Azadine would eventually accept the priest position, no matter how reluctant he seemed.

‘What is he really after? I’ll just have to find out for myself.’

Despite his suspicions, Azadine accepted Jiswa’s offer.

“Then I’ll ask you to guide us to Vthuma, Jiswa.”

“Yes, Priest Azadine.”

“You’ve already decided on the title? Just call me Azadine. And once we’re past Vthuma, go back to calling me Adan.”

Azadine accepted the priest position from Jiswa of the Blue Turban Party and received a map of the Vthuma region.

Not only that, Jiswa decided to personally accompany Azadine—and several Blue Turban Party members and refugees followed them as well.

“We’d like to go to Vthuma too.”

“I want to find work there.”

“There’s no food or jobs here, and the air is so bad that disease is spreading.”

As more people asked to join them, Jiswa looked to Azadine with a troubled expression.

Now that Azadine was his leader, the decision was his to make.

“Let them come with us.”

Azadine gave permission for the group to join them.

While Azadine’s group had the strength to make the journey safely, to the refugees, even animals, monsters, or bandits along the road posed real danger.

“Alright, let’s head to Vthuma. Oh, Jiswa—since I’m a priest now, does that mean I can meet this Heavenly Lord person?”

“Yes. That’s correct.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

If Azadine could persuade the Blue Turban Party leadership in Vthuma—especially with the Naga Empire’s invasion looming—they could prove to be a powerful ally.

‘Even if not, I have to stop them from turning into berserk Servants. Fighting off the Nagas will be hard enough without worrying about the Blue Turban Party going wild. Hopefully this Heavenly Lord is someone I can reason with.’

With those thoughts, Azadine set out on the road, looking forward to meeting the cult’s leader.