The Traitor Of The Clan (3)

The boy had to abandon his dreams from a young age.

“Our family owes a great debt to the Ethar bloodline, so you must serve her.”

Though still a child, Ismail could understand the hidden meaning behind those words.

Do not put yourself forward; instead, sacrifice and yield everything for Mediam.

Give up the chance for self-fulfillment and sacrifice yourself solely for the benefit of the family.

Sadly, the feed that was always placed in his mouth was too good to reject, and the petty tolerance and favor shown by the Ethar bloodline were real, so the boy broke his dreams on his own.

So he chose to admire the girl.

He knew.

That the girl, beautiful and arrogant, would never offer her heart to a boy who humbled himself and became her servant, even if she looked at him.

He could only endure those days by lying to himself after giving up his dreams.

Yet this man, shunned by the entire clan, suddenly started talking about how beautiful the stars were…

How he admired the Rescue Knights Order, who worshipped the angels that sacrificed themselves to protect humanity. His duties and responsibilities as an imperial envoy…

He spoke of aesthetics and justice.

He spoke of dreams unbroken.

It was disgusting. Repulsive and hateful.

At a time when the clan was moving to seize and dominate everything, this repulsive man dared to stand in their way.

Was he out of his mind?

When placing such a man and the clan on a scale, it’s obvious which side it would tilt toward. Anyone sane would choose the clan, of course.

And yet…

The boy let go.

He was a man Ismail found repulsive, annoying, and absolutely loathsome, and yet somehow, the boy chose this man over the clan.

In truth, he knew why.

This man was repulsive because he was a mirror.

The clearer and more pristine the mirror, the more hideous and hateful the reflection.

That’s why he was so revolting.

The man who spoke of dreams he had long since abandoned, and the clan consumed by ambition and greed to devour everything.

The boy’s scale had tilted toward the man.

As Ismail let go, Grimslone’s mace once again began to dance, striking down Haldun’s entourage.

“Y-You bastard! Colluding with the enemy!”

Haldun, held fast by Azadine, shouted, but Azadine simply tightened his grip around Haldun’s neck and knocked him out in an instant.

“Nap time, kid.”

Haldun’s startled attendants tried to charge, but Azadine flung the unconscious Haldun aside and charged at them instead.

It looked as if a ferocious bear had leapt into a pen of sheep. A storm raged, and attendants were hurled away.

“N-No way!”

“This is Azadine the dullard!?”

Haldun’s attendants secretly prided themselves on having skills worthy of an official Messenger.

So while they might acknowledge a renowned Messenger, they looked down on Azadine, who had become Elder Kazas’s disciple and secured Aldis as a patron only through luck.

But Azadine was a monster beyond their expectations.

Though they tried to flee, Ismail and Mediam flanked Azadine and cut off their escape.

“Y-You traitors! Why…?”

“The betrayal was done by the Elders’ Council. The Curse of Servitude wasn’t the Emperor’s doing—it was carried out by the Council, by our leader Hathir.”

“Lies!”

“Of course you’d say that. But I’m not exactly carrying evidence around right now, so let’s save the debate for later. For now, why don’t you surrender quietly?”

Azadine calmly subdued Haldun’s attendants one by one.

In the end, Haldun and his entourage were all left sprawled on the ground.

“Amazing, Azadine. You were impressive the last time I saw you, but now your strength is even more astonishing.”

Mediam marveled at how effortlessly Azadine had handled Haldun’s group. She had initially intended to assist, but in the end, all she and Ismail had done was block their escape—Azadine had handled the rest on his own.

“But you didn’t kill them.”

Ismail clicked his tongue as he looked at the groaning, fallen members of Haldun’s party.

“If I kill them, there’s no turning back.”

“But they were trying to kill you. Isn’t that a bit arrogant? And from the clan’s perspective, you’re a traitor who poured cold water on their greatest ambition. Just like your father. You’ll be marked for assassination the moment you’re spotted. So why…?”

“If they become a threat, then there’ll be no choice. But if they aren’t, then until the very, very end, I want to avoid killing as much as possible.”

In other words, Haldun’s group didn’t even count as a threat to him.

Azadine summoned the Vthuma soldiers and had them arrest the unconscious group.

“Don’t kill them.”

“Yes, Golden Lion Envoy!”

“Golden Lion Envoy?”

Ismail was puzzled by how the soldiers seemed so fearful of Azadine.

Just then, a voice came from Azadine’s pocket.

“Boss! Messengers from the clan just showed up at the north gate too!”

A raven’s head, preserved with resin to prevent rot, was speaking with Scott’s voice.

“Looks like it’s time to get moving.”

Even after subduing Haldun’s group, Azadine continued moving swiftly, taking down more of the Messenger Clan’s forces.

Perhaps they had underestimated the Vthuma army too much, or maybe the absence of Arael and her followers left too great a gap—either way, this group was once again composed of a young noble from a prestigious house and a veteran servant meant to protect him.

Azadine subdued them with ease.

Had they attempted to flee midway, perhaps one or two could have escaped. But seeing Azadine, they let their guard down too easily and failed to seize the chance to run.

“I’m in no place to talk, but… everyone really does underestimate you.”

Mediam recalled her own shameful past as she watched these fools fall after taking Azadine lightly. Hadn’t she, too, dueled him and lost, only to become his servant?

“Works out for me. Infamy is still fame, after all.”

Azadine took no offense to younger warriors brazenly challenging him. On the contrary, he was glad it made them easier to defeat.

“So, Mediam. How many have gathered so far?”

“You mean the clan? Over 200 of them are currently occupying the fortress at the Vthuma River delta. And reinforcements keep arriving.”

“Over 200? Looks like they brought everyone they could.”

Standing atop the storm-lashed ramparts, Azadine looked toward the river delta. Though obscured by rain and wind, he could make out the glow of torches in the fortress far in the distance.

“That seems like a critical position.”

“If the clan sets their mind to it, a small fortress like that is easily taken. On the other hand, Vthuma’s army has no hope of reclaiming it.”

A fortress guarded by over 200 Messengers would be impregnable. Worse yet, it was on an island at the river delta—an already difficult place to approach.

“And with reinforcements still arriving… it’s safe to assume nearly the entire clan is involved.”

Azadine groaned under the weight of those numbers.

With Arael’s faction having rebelled and withdrawn, the gathering of over 200 Messengers showed just how desperate the clan’s wish truly was.

And Azadine now had to stand against that will head-on. No matter how firm his resolve, it was terrifying.

It meant making enemies of the entire clan. Was Azadine really prepared for that?

But then… how many innocent lives were lost when Coral Sahar fell? The image of Nagas devouring humans, the massacre of helpless civilians—he could not turn away.

Moreover…

“The one leading them is none other than Elder Kazas. He knows Vthuma better than anyone.”

Ismail mentioned Kazas, almost as if trying to torment Azadine.

“Then… I’ve been discovered for sure.”

Azadine muttered to himself upon hearing that Elder Kazas was commanding the clan forces.

Though the storm raged, Vthuma had prepared well for heavy rains, so the deluge caused no major issues.

The Nagas’ attacks soon waned. Even in their rigidly hierarchical society, with such heavy losses, they could not recklessly press on.

As the Naga assault subsided, the Golden King Manza-Jadek summoned his most meritorious subordinates to commend them. Among them was Azadine.

“Well done, Golden Lion Envoy. My faith in you was not misplaced. I feel proud. Now, I wish to reward you—what is it you desire?”

“Your Majesty. I beg forgiveness, but the battle still rages. I dare not accept a reward.”

Azadine could feel hatred piercing his body in proportion to the king’s kindness.

The Golden King’s ravens, Guard Captain Karzen and his faction, were tolerable.

But the blood mages, necromancers, and regular soldiers all viewed Azadine with suspicion. Receiving favor from Manja-Jadek would only worsen their hostility.

Yet Manza-Jadek insisted.

“You likely don’t welcome rewards from me. To accept them after betraying your kin makes you look like a traitor for profit. And the attention of a mad king who might lose his mind any day is no small burden.”

Manza-Jadek had grasped Azadine’s feelings precisely.

“So, I will grant you a reward you cannot refuse.”

“What… might that be?”

“The power to forgive and save others. Even high traitors—if you convince me they no longer pose a threat—I will pardon anyone.”

“That is…”

Such authority was far too much for a mere retainer. Other retainers, wary of Azadine’s rise, scowled visibly.

“The ones you choose will be spared and given a chance at life. If you wish to preserve your kin, isn’t this the very power you’d long for? Still so modest?”

Manza-Jadek clearly understood Azadine’s position.

Though he had turned his back on the clan for his beliefs, it wasn’t out of hatred or a desire to kill them.

Thus, for the sake of the clan’s survival, the king’s pardon was necessary.

“I grant you the right to pardon the Messenger Clan. This is a reward for your service… and also a mission, a command. If the Messenger Clan wishes to be forgiven for challenging the throne of Yaegas, it will only be through you. Meaning, if we win this war, the fate of every clan member will rest in your hands. You will become their leader.”

The Golden King Manza-Jadek smiled as he said this.

“This offer cannot be refused. You will accept it.”

“How cruel of you, Your Majesty.”

“Others would covet this authority to no end, Golden Lion Envoy. You have no greed. Now go rest. You’ll have far harsher days ahead.”

“Yes…”

Azadine exited the Golden King’s audience chamber.