Chadra’s Conqueror (2)

“So that’s how it is, is it? What do you say, Sir Azadine. Stop testing the waters by inserting some random proxy and let’s speak frankly among ourselves.”

Since Chashan also understood that Azadine was the investigation team’s real power, he asked outright.

“What do the others think?”

Azadine asked the remaining two of the Chadra Five Ogres.

“Infamy of the Chadra Five Ogres, huh. I’m just a diligent Holy Knight. All I did was tame hippogriffs and cause a little accident, so they dragged me here.”

“Your problem wasn’t only that, Selim.”

Sedrin rebuked Selim and looked at Azadine.

“I don’t want to agree with that dwarf junkie, but you’re Azadine, right? Let’s talk directly. What did you want that you purged Hexenmaier? What is the Messenger Clan plotting now? Was smashing Korasar and Vthuma not enough for you?”

Everyone was misunderstanding Azadine. Since he was from the Messenger Clan, they assumed he must have come here plotting something, and that was why he had purged Hexenmaier.

No matter how much Azadine denied it, it couldn’t be helped. The Aragasas—what they called the Messenger Clan—had committed large-scale destruction and massacres in Korasar and Vthuma, and Azadine himself had been introducing himself as the Emperor’s Herald.

“Our fame is nothing compared to the infamous Messenger Clan who wrecked Vthuma and Korasar. In that sense, Sir Azadine, we can acknowledge your standing—but our pride won’t allow us to hand over the Chadra Plateau so easily.”

Chashan, too, looked obsessed with the Chadra Five Ogres’ status.

‘Who are these nobodies? Why are they acting like celebrities among themselves?’

Azadine sighed as he watched them.

“Look, you won’t believe this if I say it, but most of my people—the Aragasas you call the Messenger Clan—betrayed the Emperor. They moved according to their ambitions, and as a result carried out mass slaughter in Vthuma and Korasar. In contrast, I fought against my own kin as the Emperor’s Herald. So as things stand, I am the only Emperor’s Herald.”

“Ah. So you bear no responsibility for the massacres in Vthuma or Korasar? What a trustworthy thing to say.”

Smuggling King Chashan sneered. But Sir Selim didn’t seem to grasp the sneer.

“Huh? Chashan? You believe that? I don’t.”

“He’s being sarcastic, you idiot minotaur. Are you going to think like a cow just because you walk around with a bull’s head?”

When Sedrin sniped at him, Selim paused, thought, then erupted in rage.

“Then he’s lying to us right now? Unforgivable! Azadine! You’re a trainee knight, and yet you deceive your brothers with lies?!”

Selim’s anger was surprisingly different in flavor. Unlike the other Chadra Five Ogres, he seemed genuinely attached to the Order.

“It’s not a lie. It’s the truth. I’m a Hospitaller, you’re a Hospitaller—why would I ever speak falsehood to a brother of the same Order? The one who responded with mockery to the truth was Chashan. Is it because he isn’t a knight that he doubts a Hospitaller’s honor?”

At Azadine’s words, Selim nodded.

“Right. Chashan isn’t a knight. A dwarf who sells drugs can’t be a knight. No matter how anyone can become a Hospitaller, they still have to be those who revere the Three Virtues.”

When “anyone” came out of Selim’s bull-mouth, everyone couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh.

“But wait. So you really have no responsibility for the massacres in Vthuma or Korasar?”

“That’s what I’ve been saying, brother.”

Azadine answered with a smile. Selim flinched.

“Gah, this bastard. When you smile, it’s as charming as Maribel back at our ranch.”

“Maribel?”

“Our ranch’s best dairy cow. You’d be shocked at her beautiful figure. She’s really pretty.”

“…….”

Being a minotaur, he seemed to find dairy cows genuinely attractive.

As Azadine fell silent after being compared to a cow, Sedrin burst out laughing.

“Alright. Then let’s organize the situation. Ms. Sedrin—what you want is to keep the position of forest keeper of the Black Soil Forest?”

“That’s right, though more than that wouldn’t be bad.”

“And you, Sir Selim?”

“No need for all this talking! I want to make more hippogriffs and strengthen the Order! Flying together would be incredible!”

“Just in case—don’t listen to him. That’s the very reason he got exiled to the Chadra Plateau.”

A hippogriff was a miraculous beast born between a griffin and a horse—its very existence called a miracle.

Trying to artificially “mass-produce” hippogriffs was even more absurd than simply taming griffins, which would be far cheaper—even considering how griffins devoured livestock like water.

Selim’s demand was so unrealistic that even a three-year-old could tell.

“Chashan, what about you?”

“Lift the restrictions on commerce. If you entrust trade to me, I can make Fireglyph even richer—almost like a nation in its own right.”

“By selling drugs? That’s impossible. We need tariffs to secure revenue—your method won’t make anyone prosperous. And what about the people ruined by drugs?”

After hearing their demands, Azadine reached his conclusion.

“Sedrin stays as forest keeper of the Black Soil Forest—status quo. Sir Selim’s hippogriff expansion request is rejected. Chashan, your request is ridiculous as well, so rejected.”

Aside from Sedrin, the other two received an unpleasant answer.

Even Sedrin didn’t look pleased.

“Then I won’t agree either. The Black Soil forest keeper post is mine by rights. You’re telling me to keep the status quo and split from the Chadra Five Ogres? If you want to divide us, you should add something on top, shouldn’t you?”

Sedrin rejected Azadine’s terms, which were less than status quo in her eyes. Selim was so furious he looked ready to ram Azadine on the spot.

“What?! Don’t tell me you hate hippogriffs! How can you reject such a beautiful creature?! You’re a species-discriminationist!”

At the very moment Selim preached hippogriff beauty, the hippogriff—injured after being struck by Sedrin—began groaning and relieving itself on the terrace. The stench of farm manure flooded the office.

“Ah, seriously…”

Chashan stared at Azadine with a sinister smile.

“Heh-heh, Sir Azadine. You’re still young. If we Chadra Five Ogres interfere with your rule, once a new Chapter Master is appointed, you’ll have to bear the responsibility alone. You’re a Messenger Clan man who smashed the previous ruler of Fireglyph—no one will view that kindly. Do you think you can survive on the Chadra Plateau without our cooperation or support? This plateau is a land where mana runs mad. No matter how capable you are, there are things you can’t do alone. And if you make enemies… all the more so.”

As Chashan implied a threat, Azadine sighed.

“I think you’re misunderstanding something. You stayed quiet under Hexenmaier, and now you want to stick your spoon in—do you really think I’ll just say yes and hand it over?”

“!!!!!”

“You want to interfere with governance? Go ahead. Try it—I’ll crush you. What I recommend is: don’t get greedy, and just keep enjoying the privileges you already have. In a harsh land like this, you’ve been left alone by the Order because you’re still, in your own way, ‘useful’—that’s all.”

“You bastard!”

As Chashan’s anger flared, his hair and beard bristled upward, and the tattoos carved into his body began to shine and flash with mana.

Wild Druid Sedrin also fixed Azadine with slit-pupiled eyes, no longer elf-like.

Selim snorted and pawed the ground, then stared at Azadine.

“You’ll crush me? Insolent. I liked you. Let’s duel—”

“Stay put, idiot.”

Sedrin stopped Selim.

“The Messenger Clan are assassination specialists. If you fight directly, even you could be in danger. Do you think they call him ‘God-Killer’ for nothing? If you lose here and one of our five collapses, morale breaks.”

Sedrin said that, then glared at Azadine.

“Hm. Sir Azadine. I’ll say this up front: the three of us are much more moderate than the other two. You really won’t form the council? This is probably your last chance to change your mind.”

“It’s not that I want to rule—more that I can’t let you have it. Ah, and to be precise, Fireglyph is being governed by Investigation Leader Sir Pavel. I’m just middle management.”

“Fine. Negotiations are broken off. Convey that intent to Niselda and Sok as well.”

Sedrin turned into a crow and slipped out through the window.

“This—! I have to treat my pretty one before I go! Leaving just like that?!”

Selim grumbled and stomped out onto the terrace. As the massive minotaur thundered through the office, chaos erupted—ceiling lamps swayed as his horns clipped things, chairs broke, tables flipped.

Still making a racket, Selim ran out and checked his mount. It seemed a druid’s green magic—Regeneration—had already been cast.

“Hmph, so you did put a healing spell on it. Sedrin does have some decency. Fine, then. Sir Azadine—I’m watching you closely! You’ll regret not listening to me!”

Sir Selim and the hippogriff left behind an enormous pile of horse dung on the terrace, then shot into the sky and vanished.

“Everyone made such a dramatic exit… I feel like I should do something too.”

Chashan gestured at Sir Braham with his chin.

“But instead of pointless theatrics, I’ll simply go. Sir Azadine—you’ll regret today’s choice. You should’ve taken our hand while we were willing to act like gentlemen.”

Chashan and Sir Braham departed.

“Uh… ugh…”

Sir Pavel was trembling, shaken by the hostile killing intent the three Chadra Five Ogres had radiated.

“Why did you do that, Sir Azadine? I only want to live thin and long.”

A truly pathetic thing to say.

But Azadine had to soothe Sir Pavel.

“Sir Pavel. If you accept their demands, it becomes your responsibility later. Up above, they don’t want ‘status quo plus a new Chapter Master’—they don’t want prisoners forming a council, self-governing, and surfacing into the open. Would they like that?”

“Ah…”

Only then did Sir Pavel finally realize that clashing with them was, in fact, the path that best fulfilled his duty—and carried the least future fallout.