Temple Of The Serpent (2)

The Light of the Crown.

The foundation of the faith of the King’s Church and the reason the Yaegas God Tribe was revered as Divine Kings.

When a rightful king ascended the throne, a barrier of white magic protected the land, driving out creatures of darkness. The undead, in particular, melted away before the Light of the Crown like snowmen under a scorching summer wind.

“Heh. The Light of the Crown, you say? If a rightful king ascended, perhaps. But the blood of the Yaegas God Tribe has thinned, and their power has weakened. That’s why they’ll offer a copy of the Heavenly King’s Book of Truth in exchange for Debyslin’s blessing.”

“Debyslin’s blessing?”

“The power of the Cobra Queen of the Kurt Tribe will push back the Light of the Crown and help me seize the throne of Korasar. Thanks to your Messenger Clan leaking a copy of the Heavenly King’s Book of Truth, I can once again challenge for the throne.”

“Are you trying to create a world filled only with undead and Nagas? Do you think that’s beautiful? Wasn’t it Korasar’s throne that you wanted? Would you be satisfied sitting on that throne if all your subjects were undead or Nagas? Is that truly what you desired?”

Azadine asked sincerely. Perhaps because of that, the Count gave an earnest reply.

“What meaning does a beautiful world hold if it isn’t mine? If it’s within my grasp, I don’t care if every citizen of Hubris becomes undead. If I can’t have it, its beauty only makes me sick.”

“Ah… is that so? That’s the kind of person you are.”

Azadine clicked his tongue.

He couldn’t be persuaded; he was destined to be an enemy. No, leaving him unchecked would plunge everyone around him into a pit of despair—he was absolute evil.

A man consumed by his lust for power.

In a way, he was similar to Arael.

‘Arael….’

Azadine felt the old wounds inflicted by Arael ache anew.

“I’ll give you whatever you want. Join me.”

The moment Azadine opened Arael’s letter, he was drawn into a black void.

In the pitch-dark space, a single woman stood against the light—Arael.

Her face was obscured by the intense backlight. No, perhaps she didn’t want it to be seen.

Azadine’s eyesight, capable of piercing through darkness and glare, couldn’t discern her face, likely a testament to her will.

“It’s been a while, Arael.”

“Did you miss me?”

“Not at all.”

Azadine touched his face. An old scar split open, and blood trickled down. This had never happened before, but in this space, the scars felt freshly torn.

“I didn’t miss you.”

“Is that all you have to say after ten years? Aren’t you curious why I betrayed you?”

“Not in the least. It’s bound to be something like wanting to take over the world or claiming the Messenger Clan is rotten, isn’t it?”

“The Elders and the Chief are obsessed with the ‘Nether.’ Surely, you know that? You deciphered the Nether’s language alongside Elder Kazas.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

The Messenger Clan, Aragasa, had been researching various magics to free themselves from the curse of servitude. Among these was the forbidden dark magic of the Nether.

However, Nether magic—known as Deep Dark Magic—was nearly impossible for humans to handle. Ordinary humans would find their tongues shriveling just by uttering the Nether’s language.

Azadine, born with innate resistance to magic, had served as Elder Kazas’ voice in speaking the Nether language, while Kazas taught Azadine the Art of Flower, Bird, Wind, and Moon from his Grimoire in return.

“Good. This makes the conversation faster. Azadine, I need you. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“What do I want?”

“Don’t you want revenge on the clan that belittled you? Take it. Once my conquest is complete, I’ll make all of Aragasa your slaves. You can torture the men for eternity, turning them into grotesque creatures to display as your fortress walls. The women will serve as your maids—even Aldis.”

“……!”

“Yes. You’ve wanted Aldis since you were a child, haven’t you?”

“…You know nothing.”

Azadine shook his head.

“I want her to be happy. And that’s not something that can be achieved like this.”

“What a fool you are, Azadine. Aldis loves Chief Hathir.”

“…….”

“Are you just going to stand by and let what you desire become someone else’s?”

“If I try to take it, it will be destroyed.”

“So what? If I can’t have it, I’d rather break it and take the pieces.”

“If you truly believe that, Arael.”

Azadine wiped the blood from his wound and glared at her.

“Then we’re done. You’re my enemy.”

“…What a foolish little brother I have.”

“I’m your older brother.”

“Hmph? That’s just your opinion, isn’t it?”

Despite her words, Arael smiled from within the backlight.

“Why are you trying to persuade me now, Arael? Because I can help you study the Nether language?”

“That’s part of it, but Azadine, you and I are the only family we have left in this world.”

“And you bring this up now?”

“Listen carefully. I’ll take everything in this world. But when I think about it, I don’t care for fine food, clothing, grand castles, or beautiful lovers. What I truly desire is power itself.”

Indeed, power and strength were all she cared about. She lacked greed for material things, but she also lacked love for anything else.

The only thing that drew her heart was strength.

Power alone.

“Even so, I won’t let go of treasures, slaves, or kingdoms in front of me. I’ll take all the wealth, luxury, and honor. And if I can’t have them, I’ll destroy them. Anything I can’t possess has no right to exist.”

Though she lacked material greed, her ambition to take everything or destroy it was unyielding.

Hearing Arael’s declaration, Azadine let out a bitter laugh. It was the kind of madness one might expect from a drunkard shouting on the roadside.

The problem was that Arael’s power was akin to that of a living goddess. She had the strength to turn her outlandish claims into reality.

“My foolish and detestable followers will be useful for now. But when I think about sharing the wealth and glory I’ll gain with such filth, your face suddenly comes to mind. It’s clear that it’s better for you, my kin, to enjoy wealth and glory rather than those disgusting creatures. Through that, even if they hate it, they’ll come to realize the nobility of our bloodline.”

“……”

Was such a thought born from the peak of selfishness and self-love? In a way, it was an awe-inspiring statement.

“You are my only blood, Azadine. I’ve decided to love you in my own way.”

The very person who had inflicted Azadine’s deepest wounds… now declared her love for him.

But was it truly love? Unable to love her own life, she found no joy even when obtaining what others coveted. For this reason, she turned her gaze toward Azadine.

Claiming to love him as kin would give meaning to sharing what she had acquired. To discuss ‘love’ based on such reasoning?

“I refuse. I don’t need that kind of love. It’s not love—it’s just a decoration for your ambition. To be a trinket praising your victory…”

Azadine touched the scar on his face.

“I have my pride too!”

“I’ve told you before, Azadine.”

Arael rose from within the backlight.

“Anything that doesn’t belong to me has no reason to exist. Even if that thing is my only kin!”

As the blood flowing from Azadine’s face hit the ground, he broke free from the spell embedded in the letter.

Now, before Azadine stood Count Casel, speaking the same words as Arael.

‘How typical of a power-driven human.’

Azadine recalled Arael’s letter and felt the sting of his old wounds once again.

“Count, why are you bothering with that heretic?”

The Nagas voiced their displeasure at the Count’s serious conversation with Azadine.

‘Is it because I’m Aragasa or because I’m standing on their idol? Even the Nagas are calling me a heretic.’

Azadine chuckled to himself at the absurdity.

“We know you used to boast about enslaving Messenger Clan members, but now, even without them, nothing can stop your army.”

For the Count, subduing and enslaving members of the Messenger Clan had been a significant source of pride. Perhaps that was why he was interested in Azadine. However, now that he had an army of mummies, there was no real need for Messenger slaves.

“True enough. Raw power can solve everything. But there’s something intriguing about this one. He feels different from other members of the Messenger Clan.”

The Count sensed an unfamiliar quality in Azadine, which made him all the more desirable.

“A remarkable talent. Especially since he subdued those two Messengers without much effort.”

Count Casel smirked wryly as he spoke.

“But I suppose one cannot have everything. Raise the mummies.”

“Yes, my lord.”

The Nagas began casting their spells.

“That won’t do.”

Azadine retrieved blood-soaked arrows from atop the idol. Using the arrows he had taken from Harad and Kevna, he aimed at the Count.

The Count attempted to block the arrows with the same invisible barrier he had used before, but this time, Azadine’s arrows curved mid-flight, spraying blood as they spun. The transformation was subtle, but the blood-soaked arrows were clearly reacting differently.

“What?!”

The arrows veered toward the Nagas standing beside the Count. Startled, the Nagas leaped back like vipers avoiding a strike, but the arrows grazed their torsos and chests.

Though the Nagas’ tough scales prevented the arrows from piercing through, the injuries were severe.

“Kyah!”

“Shaah!”

Enraged, the Nagas began casting spells. Droplets of blood rose from the idol and flew toward Azadine, but he had seen this magic before.

-Hiss, hisss!

Azadine hurled a dagger, intercepting the blood droplets before they could transform into projectiles. The droplets burst like balloons, and Azadine fired another arrow.

“Damn it!”

“That cursed Messenger!”

Knowing that Azadine’s arrows could curve unpredictably, the enemies scrambled to evade. As the Nagas struggled, the Count stepped forward and intercepted an arrow with his body.

-Boom!

A spherical magical barrier formed in front of the Count, causing the arrow to explode harmlessly.

“You’ve tormented my women enough. I’ll handle you myself. You, awaken the mummies.”

“Yes, my lord!”

“Understood!”

The Nagas stepped back and resumed their spellcasting. Blood from the underground passage began converging on the mummies.

As the blood soaked into the mummies, they began to rise. Flames of decay flickered in their eyes, and an ominous curse enveloped their bodies.

“I can’t let that happen!”

Azadine fired another arrow.