Heavenly Lord Of The Blue Turban (3)

Jiswa didn’t hand over the priest position to Azadine just because he liked him. He did it deliberately to draw a powerful figure like Azadine into their struggle.

And Azadine needed it as well.

With both the Senate and Arael launching operations toward the Vthuma Kingdom, he needed to rally organizational strength to oppose them—even if it meant leveraging a pseudo-religious cult.

“Hm. Originally, I planned to just serve some tea to travelers and enjoy a pleasant time together.”

Gimela expressed disappointment that things hadn’t gone as expected.

“Do you really think I’d drink your tea now? Not after what I saw in Adirov.”

Despite his words, Azadine took a seat at the table.

“By the way, who’s that muscular hunk beside you?”

“Scott McGreen.”

“Really? Hm. Impressive. Would he happen to be interested in a Vthuman-style oil massage?”

“……”

Scott glanced over at Azadine in response to Gimela’s blatant attempt at seduction.

“What, are you two lovers or something?”

Gimela was surprised that Scott seemed to be seeking Azadine’s approval and asked curiously.

“Hardly. He’s just asking me for a strategic judgment—whether there’s any gain to be had by sleeping with you. But you’re quite something, aren’t you? Showing up with a child in tow and still overflowing with thoughts of adultery.”

“This is nothing unusual in the Vthuman court. This child will come to enjoy such pleasures eventually, too.”

Azadine voiced his criticism, but it had no emotional impact on Gimela. Whether it was the norm in Vthuma or just her personal detachment, it was clear she felt no guilt over infidelity.

“It just happens to be a safe day, so I was thinking I could get a bit of exercise in. Are you really not interested? You must’ve had a long journey—this would be a nice way to relax both your mind and body.”

“Just so you know, madam, I’m not one for physical activity that builds muscles like this.”

“…I suspected as much from the moment I heard the name McGreen. You’re an orc, aren’t you?”

When Scott expressed his dislike for muscle-building activity, Gimela realized he was an orc.

“Of course. These muscles, this intellect—what other race but the orcs could shine so brightly?”

Scott spoke with pride, prompting Gimela to lick her lips.

“I hear orcs have quite the stamina.”

“Nope. That’s enough.”

Azadine cut between the two. No matter how mutually consensual it might be, and no matter how common it was in Vthuma, he couldn’t tolerate flagrant infidelity in front of a child.

“In any case, we came here because we need to consult with you.”

“Consult? About what?”

“The Naga will soon attack the Vthuman royal palace—just like what happened at Coral Sahar. And ogres are already launching waves of assaults in the north. Behind all of this is the Messenger Clan.”

Azadine explained in detail the fragmentation of the Messenger Clan, the goals of its factions, and what had really happened in Coral Sahar to persuade Gimela.

“Oh my. You’re from the Messenger Clan? That’s impressive. A Second Seat—that’s a super high rank, right?”

Gimela was astonished to learn Azadine’s identity.

“Could you take off your helmet and show me your face? With a voice like that, I bet you’re handsome.”

‘This woman… we’re talking about the fate of a nation, and she—’

Annoyed by her request, Azadine removed his helmet and revealed his face.

“Oh. What a shame, such a rare handsome man. Still, you’ve got a solid build. Not quite orc-level, but those muscles… oh! Are you interested in Vthuman-style oil massage too? Maybe we could include that orc and one of my other concubines.”

“This really isn’t the time for that. Haa…”

Azadine sighed at Gimela’s inability to engage seriously.

“From what I can tell, you’re planning an invasion of Korasar—but at this rate, you’re going to be the ones invaded first. Convince the Count of Kimalhazi to send some troops north and some to support Vthuma. And I want to ask the Heavenly Lord of the Blue Turban Party to set aside any pointless ambitions or grudges against Korasar and help defend Vthuma.”

“Well… I appreciate that you revealed your identity just to talk to me, but try seeing it from our side too.”

“Your side?”

“Yes. Including Kimalhazi, all of Vthuma has actually been planning to invade Korasar. So if someone from Korasar shows up and says monsters will attack before us and that we should focus on that first, who’s going to listen?”

“Even after seeing Coral Sahar get wiped out?”

“Wouldn’t they see that as an even better opportunity now that Coral Sahar’s leadership is in shambles? And apparently, it’s a woman from the Messenger Clan who’s taken the throne there? And you’re from the Messenger Clan too. Even if you claim you’re a third, unaffiliated faction… who can believe that?”

“……”

“So, I have a proposal.”

“A proposal?”

“You won’t be able to convince my father—the Heavenly Lord—just by giving him this information. But if we go with my idea, maybe you could.”

“What kind of idea?”

“We’re going to raid the sacred body of our Blue Turban Party.”

“…You mean the place where your father was struck by lightning?”

“Yes. That’s where the body of Grimslone, the god of the Nether, lies. If you plunder that site and acquire a divine relic of Grimslone, Father won’t be able to ignore you. And if the Blue Turban Party acts, the King of Vthuma won’t be able to stand by either. The Party has already eclipsed the King’s Church and the Rescue Knights Order to become the dominant religion in Vthuma.”

“The body of Grimslone, huh. What exactly is that?”

“In the swamplands, there’s a fragment of Grimslone’s ancient tree. Father was resting on it when he was struck by lightning and became his vessel. Since then, we’ve tried several times to move that body to Vthuma, but each time, monsters from the Nether appeared and ruined everything.”

“If I retrieve that body, will I truly gain influence over the Blue Turban Party?”

“Probably. But isn’t that something impossible for a mere human? Even the warriors and priests of the Blue Turban Party couldn’t do it. But if you, a soul-less blasphemer and Godslayer of the Heavenly Kings from the Messenger Clan, can do it—especially being a Second Dominion—surely you’re one of their top elites, right?”

“Hm.”

Azadine frowned at Gimela’s words.

This woman was trying to use him. But even if he spoke with someone else… it didn’t seem like anyone would be convinced.

The throne of Coral Sahar was taken by the Messenger Clan.

Given that rumor, if Azadine introduced himself as one of them, people would just think the Messenger Clan—after devouring the Korasar Kingdom—was spewing lies to buy time.

The Nagas weren’t fools. Having already been used once in Coral Sahar, why would they let it happen again in Vthuma?

“I’ll think about it. But could you perhaps arrange a meeting with the Count of Kimalhazi?”

“My husband? Hmm. I doubt it’d do any good.”

“Still, introduce me.”

“Really, not seeing him and doing things my way would be best.”

“…Hey, Komosal. You’re a priest of the Blue Turban Party too. Can’t you get us a meeting with the Count?”

“Ah… as the lady says. The Count is filled with ambition toward Korasar. He’s not the type to abandon his plans just because of a few words.”

Jiswa agreed with that sentiment.

“Yes. The Count won’t be swayed easily. Unless it’s… bedroom litigation, that is.”

“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, the Count… he swings that way.”

“……”

“He probably likes orcs.”

“Oh, is that so? Scott, alright—time to work your magic.”

“No, Captain.”

Scott clicked his tongue at Azadine’s sudden change in attitude.

The Count of Kimalhazi welcomed Azadine’s party with open arms.

Surrounded by muscular men, he lay on his bed, smiling.

“My, what a splendidly muscular man.”

The Count licked his lips as he looked at Scott.

“……”

It seemed Scott was incredibly popular here.

Azadine repeated what he had told Gimela to the Count, but the response was lukewarm at best.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you. I can see you genuinely think the Messenger Clan will invade Vthuma. But how do I know this isn’t just misinformation? The King’s Church is currently attacking Coral Sahar. They won’t allow the Messenger Clan to sit on the throne.”

“Still, even if the King’s Church is acting now…”

“The Messenger Clan likely doesn’t have much leeway either. They’re probably scrambling to defend Coral Sahar. And once the King’s Church realizes they can’t reclaim it alone, they’ll permit nearby nations to form a united kingdom. And Vthuma isn’t as barbaric as northerners think. Though we suffer from malaria, our rice and beans support massive populations, and we’ve got plenty of gold mines too.”

Although Vthuma was often seen as a black land—untamed and filled with jungle and the lurking Naga Empire—it was actually the second-largest of the Eight Kingdoms by land, with a huge population and strong economic power.

Without such benefits, no one would endure the tropical diseases and live here.

Thus, Vthuman nobles had both pride and a sense of inferiority.

They always felt their governance and domain management were underappreciated, and so they were desperate to expand their influence.

“Anyway, I was wondering if that fellow might be interested in some new physical pleasures.”

The Count focused more on Scott’s body than Azadine’s warning.

In the end, persuading the Count proved fruitless.

Just as Gimela had authority, it seemed that in this situation, the more effective way to influence the Vthuma Kingdom was not to persuade nobles, but to raid the Blue Turban Party’s sacred site and retrieve the body of Grimslone, the “Swamp Tree,” to win over the Heavenly Lord.

“Haa… Suddenly, I hate everything.”

Azadine was deeply disappointed by Vthuma’s ruling class, who ignored the threat of the Naga Empire in favor of their ambitions.

Whether the people lived or died, they only cared about their own desires.