233 — Northern Aragasa (4)

“W-what?”

Macdogal, who did not know the tangled situation among the Aragasa, jumped to his feet.

“What the hell are you talking about?! Not a chance! That’s impossible!”

But Azadine set a hand on Jan’s shoulder.

“Good. You chose well. I welcomed your voluntary participation.”

“Damn it. ‘Voluntary participation,’ my ass.”

“Then go home. I told you I’d let you go.”

“No! It’s voluntary! It is voluntary!”

Jan, a ten-man leader of the Northern Aragasa, insisted with a face like he was about to cry that his choice had been voluntary.

When Jan of the Yakuts family, a Northern Aragasa, surrendered to Azadine, his subordinates immediately fled.

They would report this to their superiors, reorganize their unit, and then come with everything they had to crush Jan and Azadine.

Above all, Azadine had realized that the Northern Emperor stood behind the attack on the pilgrimage band.

Of course, it was something that would be known to the whole world someday. Right now, the Northern Emperor was trying to seize control of the Rescue Knights Order by attacking not only this pilgrimage band but all the others as well, even kidnapping bishops, intending to chop the Order into pieces.

He was making such a huge move that it would be exposed eventually, but it could not be now.

He could not reveal his hand this quickly—and this easily.

“You ran your mouth about figuring out the Northern Emperor was behind it, just to screw me over. That was a big mistake. You’re only the 108th-ranked Messenger, right?”

“And you got captured by ‘only’ the 108th.”

Azadine answered Jan with a smile, and Camilla, now curious, asked,

“Wait. You told us you were Rank 1 before. What was that, then?”

“I didn’t lie.”

“What? You didn’t lie?”

Hearing Azadine, Jan finally grasped the situation as well.

“Damn it. I got played. Don’t tell me you’re the only Imperial Messenger?!”

“Yeah.”

“I’d heard the Hathir branch was in chaos because of some rebellion by a person named Arael, but… all the Imperial Messengers wiped out? The Messenger bloodline is finished, then. So you’re Rank 1 and Rank 108 at the same time?”

“That’s right.”

“Ah, what a relief.”

“What is?”

“Well, think about it. I was embarrassed I couldn’t even compete with you, but if you’re the only Imperial Messenger, then it’s not so bad. If it’s you, you must’ve been a standout talent even in the Hathir branch, right?”

“……”

Azadine gave a bitter smile at Jan’s words. He had been treated like a half-wit among the Messenger bloodline since childhood.

But there was no need to say that and unsettle Jan’s heart.

“Arael is my older sister. I’m Arael’s only blood relative.”

“Ah….”

It had nothing to do with anything, but Jan naturally assumed Azadine must be a monstrous fighter on par with Arael, and he relaxed.

Just then, Macdogal, who had been listening to Azadine and Jan, sneered.

“How laughable that someone who surrendered at once and swapped flags cares about honor. A shameless thick-skinned wretch—he doesn’t even need a helmet.”

From his perspective, he could not understand Jan, who had changed sides as easily as flipping a hand. Jan looked nothing but dishonorable and vile to him.

“What? You bastard?”

Jan glared at Macdogal.

“He changed flags for the sake of honor. So you could say he’s honorable.”

Azadine explained in Jan’s place.

“The Aragasa are a group where family and blood kin matter. After leaving their homeland and coming here to the Hubris Continent, that became even more precious. So, fighting non-Aragasa is one thing—but if Aragasa fight Aragasa, it’s treated as a civil war bound up with family, blood, grudges, and debts. Would it help if I put it like this? In a civil war, raising a hand against one’s commander is seen as the result of lacking virtue.”

Azadine’s explanation was so objective that it gave even Jan, who had made the decision in a vague ‘as an Aragasa’ way, a fresh shock.

“Of course, it would be different if he were a high-ranking officer or commander. But as a low-ranking officer, he owed me a life-debt. If he stayed in the organization, orders from above would force him to forget that debt and raise a blade against me—and he considered that dishonorable. That’s why he surrendered even though I said I’d let him go. Honestly, no one would blame him even if he chose to ignore such a flimsy life-debt in the first place.”

“Ah… so that’s why….”

With Azadine’s explanation, everyone understood why Jan had surrendered. Jan shook his head and warned them.

“Don’t misunderstand. The moment I surrendered, I considered a good chunk of that flimsy life-debt repaid. I’m not planning to stick to you comfortably forever. If you get sloppy, I’ll escape.”

“That’s the cute part—telling me that out loud.”

“Ugh.”

When Azadine said it with a grin, Jan clamped his mouth shut.

“Anyway, is it true the Northern Emperor is behind this? Why is the Northern Emperor targeting me?”

Izmilla wondered about that.

“That, I don’t really know.”

Jan refused to answer. He had surrendered to Azadine, but he had no intention of spilling information freely from Azadine’s side. He only planned to repay the debt and then escape.

“So here’s the thing. The one here with the most experience making rational calls and laying plans is me. You all agree, right?”

Azadine asked the group. Everyone had survived thanks to him, so they had nothing to say even if they had ten mouths.

Only Macdogal, the archivist-cleric, protested loudly.

“No! Sir Izmilla should become our leader!”

“Because she’s the bishop’s bastard?”

“No. How could you smear her with that!”

“Then you must know something. Why?”

“Th-that, I don’t know. I know nothing, but let me say this: even a trainee knight of the Order is a noble and righteous being. By status, the most noble among us is Sir Izmilla, so of course she should lead this group. If it becomes known later that an impious man like you gave us orders and we followed them, our faith and sincerity will be doubted.”

“So,” Azadine said, “what do you think?”

“I will entrust command to you.”

Izmilla herself, the person in question, handed leadership over to Azadine without the slightest hesitation.

“Then I’ll decide as the leader. Of course, I’ll respect everyone’s opinions. So don’t ask Jan questions he can’t answer. Even if he doesn’t answer directly, we’ll gain plenty just from having him with us.”

In truth, Azadine had already caught that the Northern Emperor stood behind them with striking ease. There was no point in needling Jan and provoking him—at best, it would only hasten the moment he decided he had repaid his life-debt.

‘This bastard’s skilled.’

Azadine had experience dragging around Shati, a Naga shaman, and milking regenerative magic that humans could barely use. If Shati were here, she would have genuinely worried about Jan, who had been hooked by Azadine.

“Now. How about you rest your eyes a bit? We’ll have to move at night. Camilla—did you loot the bodies and gather food?”

“Ah, yeah.”

“Then we’ll split it up, eat, and sleep.”

Azadine said that, laid boards near the prisoner-escort wagon, and made a place to sleep.

When night came, Azadine opened his eyes.

“Did everyone rest well?”

“My little brother did.”

Camilla answered like that. From the look of it, everyone except Kuntachi had been too on edge to rest properly.

Azadine rolled up the blanket he had slept under, tied it to his pack, and tossed it.

-Kururuk….

A half-transparent Ghost Goat suddenly appeared, caught the pack with its head, then flicked it up onto its back.

“What is that?!”

“It’s my mount. I can only call it at night, though.”

Azadine said so and gave a wry smile.

This Ghost Goat was a transformed remnant of Arael’s voice—perhaps because it was a ghost, it could only be summoned at night.

It was as fast as if it flew through the sky, so it could answer Azadine’s call quickly, but to others it looked bad. To ordinary folk weak to superstition, it would look like a monster riding a dead spirit.

As expected, Macdogal pointed it out.

“You’re not telling me you plan to ride that? Planning to give every decent traveler on the road a heart attack? It’s terrifying just to look at. Where did you learn such wicked tricks? Is this because you’re of the Messenger bloodline? Even if it was once a flying beast, you openly use a spell that binds a dead spirit and makes it serve you.”

“It’s not necromancy. It’s an artificial spirit. I haven’t harmed any living creature. If something was harmed… it was a part of the creator’s soul, used to make this artificial spirit.”

Azadine said that as he felt Arael’s lingering trace inside the Ghost Goat.

Of course, Macdogal had a point. It looked perfect for giving night travelers a fatal scare.

But right now, they were not in a position to pick and choose.

“Load all the baggage onto the goat. We need to conserve even a little stamina.”

They moved all the gear onto the goat and traveled as light as possible. Otherwise, they would never shake their pursuers. Even Macdogal understood that and could not nitpick further.

“So where do we go to reach Coxhall?”

After confirming the load was secured, Azadine asked. Macdogal sighed and took the lead.

“Don’t worry. I’ll guide us properly. But you go to the rear and put that hideous thing away, will you? We should be considerate of other travelers on the road. And don’t disgrace our Order by making us look friendly with a necromancer.”

“There he goes again.”

Camilla, furious, tried to step in, but Azadine stopped her.

“No. He’s right. We shouldn’t startle travelers on the road.”

“Who’s even out and about at night like this? And even if they are, they’re smugglers or bandits.”

Camilla snapped, but she backed off when Azadine restrained her.

“We have to move. The more time we waste, the more thoroughly they’ll prepare to come catch us.”

Azadine said that and brushed his beltline.

Originally, a Moon Horn Bow should have been strapped there, but he had no bow now. It had been soaked in seawater during the shipwreck and ruined.

When dealing with the Northern Aragasa, the moment the bow snapped and shards flew had been a trap to fool their eyes—but the bow’s lifespan really had ended, too.

‘Forcing those long-range shots didn’t help.’

The pride contest with Jan, forcing extreme long-distance shots, had put heavy strain on the bow. It was “just” a bow, but to an Aragasa like Azadine, having no bow felt like walking around naked.

When Azadine glanced at Jan, Jan shook his head while touching his own Moon Horn Bow.

“I’m not giving you my bow. I only have this one too.”

“Tch.”

“They’ll ambush us again anyway. Steal it then.”

Jan foreshadowed another attack.