Ject The Arbiter (3)

Veldon was not one to reveal his employer’s secrets. Hence, there was no reason for Azadine to disclose his true identity.

Above all, Lord Kozel’s grudge against the Messenger Clan—especially Azadine himself—wouldn’t be insignificant. If Casel learned that Azadine was the very one who had ruined his life, it could provoke a dangerous reaction.

‘If he knew I’m the one who turned him into a wreck, he’d probably bring every holy knight and inquisitor to hunt me down for revenge.’

Azadine spoke nonchalantly, and Veldon sighed, seemingly convinced by the bluff. Luckily, Azadine’s facade had worked. Regardless, digging too deeply into the group that had killed the monstrous Count and his mummy soldiers wouldn’t have been a wise move for Veldon.

‘If they truly are from the Messenger Clan, Lord Kozel’s temper would cause chaos. But fighting the ones who killed the Count? That’s not smart.’

Veldon, who preferred to avoid unnecessary trouble, had no intention of revealing Azadine’s identity to his employers, even if he suspected the truth. However, he still needed to negotiate.

“Why did you proceed without first agreeing on an advance or payment terms?”

“I infiltrated the Count’s estate for reconnaissance and found out he was planning to massacre everyone in the area. I couldn’t just stand by and watch, even if it wasn’t our problem. If I waited, the damage would have been catastrophic, and by then, it might’ve been too late to act. I had no choice but to act quickly. My comrades suffered a lot for it.”

Azadine referred to his “comrades,” meaning Mediam and Ismail, but to Veldon, it sounded like Azadine had a team of assassins assisting him. After all, it was hard to believe anyone could execute such a massive operation alone.

“So, you must have brought the payment with you to meet me, right?”

“Y-yes, of course.”

Veldon handed Azadine a leather pouch. Inside were gold coins and a brooch adorned with gold and opals.

“This is…”

“We lacked sufficient gold coins, so we brought jewelry instead. It should be worth about 50 gold coins.”

“It’s troublesome to deal with. Who knows if it’s really worth 50 gold coins? And if this can be traced back…”

“I apologize. This was the best we could manage.”

In truth, the Baroness and Lord Kozel had hesitated over the payment.

‘Was it really the assassins who did this?’

‘Do we really have to pay them?’

‘We never confirmed the 50 gold coins—can’t we just haggle it down?’

They had tried to avoid paying altogether or at least reduce the amount. Veldon had broken a sweat trying to convince them otherwise.

‘If those people really killed the Count, refusing payment would put the Baroness and Lord Kozel in danger. How will you deal with that risk?’

When Veldon explained the dangers of withholding payment, the Baroness reluctantly gave him the brooch.

If Azadine didn’t accept this, Veldon would have to approach the Baroness’s family for additional funds, which would be a hassle.

“Fine. I’ll compromise. This brooch is obviously the Baroness’s property, so I’ll need to sell it in another country to avoid complications.”

Azadine accepted the pouch and continued questioning Veldon.

“Do you need any other assistance? I heard the Baroness and the church are vying for control over Salasma’s territory.”

“Would you be able to assassinate someone from the church?”

“Hm. Who?”

“Sir Ject the Arbiter.”

“An Arbiter? That’s one of the sixteen highest-ranking inquisitors in the Holy Knights. You’re telling me one of them is here in Salasma?”

“Yes. He’s interfering in Salasma’s governance, aiming to prevent the Count’s bloodline from inheriting the territory. The King’s Church wants to reclaim Salasma for itself, arguing that the Count’s transformation into a naga implies his entire bloodline may be corrupted.”

“Ah, I see.”

Azadine clicked his tongue.

“I doubt they’d make that public.”

Revoking the inheritance rights of the Count’s bloodline due to his transformation into a monster might be appealing to the church, but it wasn’t a great political move.

Declaring that the noble bloodlines—especially those of the Yaegas god tribe—were imperfect would undermine the King’s Church’s foundation.

“Killing the Arbiter wouldn’t improve the situation. I’ll have to refuse that request.”

“Understood.”

“Take care, then.”

Azadine handed the signet ring to Veldon and slipped away from the alley.

Azadine bid farewell to Baroness Nort and left her estate.

“So, where do we go now?”

“Let’s track the nagas. Where did their trail end?”

“It continued southwest….”

“Southwest, then. Let’s follow it for now.”

As they descended from the highlands, Azadine surveyed the state of Salasma’s outer walls. Refugees were still pouring into the city in droves.

Throughout the city, rivers were drying up, and the waste accumulated by the influx of refugees was left uncleaned, accelerating the area’s deterioration. With no clear leadership, the city’s future seemed bleak.

As Azadine walked, lost in thought, he noticed something approaching from behind.

It was a group of mounted knights and noncommissioned officers. At the forefront, something armored was running like a beast.

“…Huh?”

A human figure was running on all fours like an animal. Its eyes glowed ominously, and Azadine could see a black aura emanating from it—clearly a product of dark magic.

“What is that?”

Azadine focused his vision on the figures chasing it. They were holy knights of the King’s Church.

‘An undead escaping while being pursued? But….’

When a rightful king sat upon the throne, the Light of the Crown protected the land.

The throne brought by the Yaegas god tribe, the Throne of the Eight Kings, was itself a magical artifact and a part of the Heavenly King’s Book of Truth.

The Light of the Crown was a real, tangible force. In cities and towns where the faithful of the King’s Church resided, it suppressed undead and monsters, shielding humanity.

‘For an undead to roam openly in broad daylight in a major city like this… it would take an extraordinary amount of magic to make that happen.’

Of course, Count Casel had managed it, but even he had needed immense resources, manpower, and assistance from the nagas to create such powerful undead.

But that…

“It looks like it’s coming for us.”

Mediam noted warily.

“What should we do?”

Ismail asked Azadine.

“What else? We run. There’s no reason to fight that thing.”

Azadine was walking, holding the reins of his Kerim mountain goat, while Mediam and Ismail were riding theirs. If Azadine suddenly mounted his goat, it might look suspicious to the surrounding people. Instead, he quickened his pace and motioned for Mediam and Ismail to go ahead.

At that moment, they reached a fork in the road and turned onto it, but the undead veered off its path, sprinting directly toward them.

And then—

-Woooong!

A magical attack came from the holy knights. But it didn’t target the undead—it was clearly aimed at Azadine’s group. It was a colorless, soundless basic spell, making it even more dangerous.

The spell momentarily dazed its targets, and while it didn’t affect Azadine, Mediam, or Ismail, it did work on their Kerim mountain goats, leaving them momentarily dazed.

“Ah!”

“Damn it!”

Now Mediam and Ismail were certain—they were being targeted. The holy knights, known for their adherence to honor, had initiated an attack with magic. It was possible their identities as members of the Messenger Clan had been exposed.

In this dire situation, Azadine gave an order to Mediam and Ismail.

“Go ahead!”

“What?”

“I’ll hold them off.”

“No! Last time you ended up needing our help.”

“And your body isn’t in good condition!”

Despite their protests, Azadine turned to face the approaching undead.

And then—

“Grrr!”

The creature growling and charging at him was, to his shock, someone Azadine recognized.

‘That’s him! The one who tried to cover up killing civilians by massacring a whole farmhouse—what was his name again?’

It was Sir Kazrek, now undead, charging directly at Azadine.

“Alright, Sweater!”

Azadine gripped the reins of his Kerim mountain goat, Sweater, and drew his sword from the saddlebag. Calmly assessing the undead Kazrek’s attack, Azadine blocked it with his blade and shouted.

“Now!”

At that moment, Sweater kicked out with its hind legs, striking Kazrek’s undead body with immense force. The sheer power sent Kazrek flying through the air.

“Uh…”

The pursuing holy knights froze in surprise. Watching a mountain goat deliver such a powerful kick, they had been completely caught off guard.

‘It’s lucky it was the undead Kazrek that got hit. If it had been me…?’

Even with armor, would they have survived? The thought sent chills down their spines.

While the holy knights hesitated in shock, Azadine chased after Kazrek to finish the job. With one foot in the stirrup, Azadine leaned off the side of Sweater, resembling a man hanging from a moving carriage as they sped forward.

“Grrr…”

The undead Kazrek rose to his feet. A human would have suffered internal injuries and fractures from such a kick, but Kazrek seemed unaffected.

However, before Kazrek could regain his balance, Azadine surged forward with Sweater and plunged his sword toward Kazrek’s head.

Under normal circumstances, the blow would have landed perfectly.

But at that moment, a surge of black magic erupted from Kazrek, forcing him to retreat like a frightened animal.

“….”

Azadine furrowed his brow, focusing on the source of the magic.

A holy knight clad in golden armor approached. The knight’s face was hidden by a helmet, but his voice sounded young.

“Well, well. That’s some impressive skill. You don’t seem like an ordinary pilgrim.”

“Holy knight, are you going to stand by while an undead roams around in broad daylight?”

“That is Sir Kazrek. Tragically, he was killed by the Messenger Clan and has returned as a vengeful wraith. Do you know what defines wraith knights like him?”

“….”

“They have an innate ability to locate and pursue their killers within a certain range. In other words, you are the one who killed Sir Kazrek.”

The holy knight in golden armor accused Azadine of being Kazrek’s murderer.