Ject The Arbiter (4)

For Azadine, the situation was absurd. Yes, he had killed Sir Kazrek, but Kazrek was a criminal who had murdered civilians. And now, they were using this as an investigative method? Raising him as an undead to track his killer?

“This Sir Kazrek seems like a vile undead. Are you sure there haven’t been any collateral damages? He only targets his enemies and doesn’t harm others?”

“Of course. If there are no enemies nearby or he lacks the necessary blood or flesh to sustain his body, he might attack whoever’s closest. But don’t worry; we’re managing him well.”

“And is it acceptable for a holy knight to use such practices? Raising the dead with dark magic? What happens if you lose control and he attacks innocent civilians?”

Azadine directed the fundamental question at the holy knight before him.

“This wasn’t my doing. It was an unfortunate accident.”

“….”

Azadine took a deep breath. The smell of preservatives was all too familiar.

The scent was identical to the preservatives Count Casel had prepared in his castle.

The undead Kazrek before him was clearly a creation, his internal organs removed and his body preserved with embalming fluids. The undead was reinforced through dark magic and preservation techniques to prevent decay, ensuring its long-term use. This wasn’t a case of a spontaneous resurrection—it was deliberate.

And yet, this holy knight, brazenly standing there, had the gall to call this an “accident.”

“In this case, shouldn’t Sir Kazrek’s grudge be laid to rest and his soul given peace? You can’t allow dangerous beings like the Messenger Clan to roam freely, can you?”

Sir Ject and Azadine exchanged veiled barbs, their true thoughts hidden beneath their words. But Azadine could tell one thing just by looking at this holy knight.

‘He’s incredibly strong.’

The sheer aura of power was evident. This was undoubtedly Sir Ject the Arbiter.

The magic Ject had used made Sir Kazrek incredibly powerful. His body, filled with dark energy, had become as hard as steel, and the plate armor he wore made him even tougher than a regular human.

“So, you’re the one who killed my father, pretending to be a pilgrim while being part of the Messenger Clan!”

Standing beside Ject, Captain Maya glared at Azadine. Behind her, Sir Zebec stood awkwardly, a step back, silently observing the situation.

“How dare you feign ignorance in front of me after killing my father!”

Maya, seething with rage, drew her sword.

“Your father was scum who slaughtered innocent civilians—defenseless farmers.”

“Lies! You took his life, and now you dare to tarnish his honor as well?”

Maya, furious, stepped forward, but Sir Zebec quickly intervened to stop her.

“Wait, Captain Maya. You can’t handle him alone….”

“Then let’s attack together! That wretch has no soul. Who cares about knightly honor or anything else?”

Maya’s anger had reached its peak. To her, Azadine’s deceit and mockery were even more intolerable than the holy knights’ use of dark magic.

“First, let’s give Sir Kazrek the chance to settle his grudge directly.”

As Ject spoke, he released his control over Sir Kazrek, allowing the undead knight to charge at Azadine.

Sir Kazrek had already been riled up at the sight of Azadine, eager to attack, and now Ject released him like an unleashed rabid dog.

Growling like a beast, Kazrek charged at Azadine, his movements wild and feral, bearing no semblance of proper swordsmanship.

His strikes were heavy and powerful, enough to send most humans flying with just a graze, but Azadine calmly deflected each blow with his sword.

Azadine, having transcended normal human limits, found it relatively easy to parry Kazrek’s attacks. But his true concern wasn’t the undead—it was the holy knights observing from behind.

“Impressive. Few can handle Sir Kazrek’s attacks so effortlessly,”

Ject remarked, pulling a censer in his left hand and a massive two-handed sword in his right. The sword was as tall as a child, yet he wielded it with one hand as he used the censer to cast a spell.

-Chain Blast!

Despite being a holy knight, Ject used colorless magic. Unlike white magic, which relied on prayer and faith, colorless magic required dedicated study to cast.

It was clear that Ject wasn’t just a knight—he was a skilled sorcerer as well.

Azadine deflected Kazrek’s charge and grabbed his helmet, twisting it sharply to redirect Kazrek toward the oncoming chain blast.

The undead, now enraged, became a shield against the spell!

But then—

-Variation!

The chain blast scattered like a flock of starlings, only to regroup and fly toward Azadine. Quickly, Azadine unfurled his cloak, swinging it to intercept the spell and slapping it with his hand.

-‘Floral Birds and Thunder of Clear Skies, Kazas Grimoire.’

The contact caused the chain blast to detonate, but Ject continued his advance.

“Interesting. That’s not Flowers, Birds, Wind, and Moon, is it? It looks similar, but it’s clearly not the same.”

“….”

Azadine was taken aback by Ject’s sharp observation. In a single glance, Ject had deduced that Azadine’s technique wasn’t magic at all.

The Clear Skies Thunder technique from Kazas’ Grimoire, while resembling magic on the surface, had never been identified as martial arts at first sight—until now.

Ject must have had extensive experience dealing with the Messenger Clan.

‘As expected of an Arbiter.’

Azadine glanced toward Mediam and Ismail’s escape route. From the elevated terrain, he could still see the children fleeing. If he didn’t buy more time, they wouldn’t get away.

While fighting together would certainly increase their chances, Azadine turned his focus to Ject.

‘This man is dangerous. He wields white, black, and colorless magic, has keen perception, and exudes the confidence of an absolute powerhouse.’

If Mediam and Ismail joined the fight, they could provide support, but it might put them in danger. If Ject or another holy knight decided to target them, they wouldn’t survive.

It was safer to fight alone to buy time.

Ject, seemingly sharing the same sentiment, stood ready with his sword, ensuring Maya and Zebec didn’t intervene.

“Sir Ject, I….”

Maya, gripping her sword and shield, tried to step forward, but Ject stopped her.

“If you step into his range, you’ll be caught in one move and used as a hostage.”

“What?”

“He’s strong. Don’t approach him unless you have a weapon like a spear.”

It was a harsh remark, but coming from the Arbiter, it couldn’t be ignored. Reluctantly, Maya stepped back.

“What should I do?”

Zebec was visibly conflicted.

He had a history with Azadine. When they first met, Azadine was a suspicious member of the Messenger Clan, an enemy that Zebec, as a holy knight of the King’s Church, should have dealt with on sight. Yet, after seeing Azadine’s actions, Zebec couldn’t help but recognize him.

But now, pursuing Azadine with the desecrated corpse of a fellow holy knight turned into an undead? And yet, Zebec couldn’t defy the King’s Church or side with Azadine outright. So, he chose to stay back, keeping his distance and avoiding involvement.

“Sir Zebec, step back as well. Let Sir Kazrek withdraw for now. My subordinates will arrive shortly, so wait until then. In the meantime, I’ll handle this one myself.”

Azadine sought to buy time for Mediam and Ismail to escape, while Ject aimed to stall until reinforcements arrived. Both were in agreement on one thing—dragging out the fight.

Azadine adjusted his grip on his sword.

“So, you’re Sir Ject, the Arbiter?”

“Yes, Messenger. And you are?”

“Azadine, the 108th Imperial Messenger.”

“The 108th? With skills like that? I thought you’d rank higher.”

Ject tilted his head in mock confusion.

“Well, I’m not familiar with your internal hierarchy. Shall we begin? After all, I doubt you’ll hand over the Heavenly King’s Book of Truth before you die.”

The tip of Ject’s sword began to sway. Though his face was hidden behind a helmet, Azadine could sense the smile on his unseen lips.

Without waiting for a signal, both moved at the same time.

Ject launched a clean thrust, the epitome of precision. The attack seemed to materialize out of nowhere, as if the blade had extended on its own, leaving no sign or telegraph of its intent. It was a ghostly strike that sent chills down the spines of onlookers.

Azadine, however, placed his hand on the flat of his blade and parried the thrust upward, deflecting the attack.

“Oh? You blocked it?”

Ject smirked and swung his censer toward Azadine’s face before he could counterattack.

“Hm?!”

Though Azadine wore a helmet that could easily withstand the censer, he recognized it as Ject’s magical catalyst. Sure enough, Ject cast Chain Blast, launching multiple projectiles.

Too close to dodge!

The magical projectiles struck Azadine’s body in rapid succession, but he countered by swinging his sword horizontally, aiming to strike Ject.

The exchange of sword and magic! However, Ject parried Azadine’s blow with his own blade, though he was pushed sideways by Azadine’s overwhelming strength. Even so, it was clear that Azadine had taken the greater damage.

“Impressive,”

Ject remarked, stepping back.

“You endured my magic without much injury.”

Most would have died from a single hit of the Chain Blast, yet Azadine had taken six and still stood.

“Tch!”

Frustrated, Azadine threw his sword at Ject.

-Swish!

The blade sliced through the air, but Ject easily deflected it with his sword. The impact shattered Azadine’s blade into two pieces—Ject’s earlier parry had already weakened it.

-Crash!

The fragments flew toward Maya and Kazrek, who had taken shelter behind Ject.

-Thud!

One shard struck Kazrek in the head, while the other flew toward Maya, only for Zebec to deflect it with his own sword.

“Th-thank you, Sir Zebec.”

“Stay focused! Against the Messenger Clan, a moment’s distraction can cost your life.”

While Zebec spoke, Azadine leapt backward and mounted his Kerim mountain goat.

“Let’s go, Sweater!”

The goat began to gallop away.

“Trying to flee, are we—”

Before Ject could finish, Azadine drew another sword and hurled it at him. Ject parried the second sword just as effortlessly, but in the brief moment of distraction, Azadine unstrapped the bow from his waist and nocked an arrow.

“Oh no, this is bad.”

Ject frowned as he saw Azadine switch to his bow.

-Swish!

Azadine fired an arrow from the saddle, the projectile weaving like a snake as it flew. It grazed the neck of the horse Maya and Zebec had ridden in on, sending the horse into a frenzy.

“What the—?!”

“Ah!”

The startled horse reared up, causing chaos among the knights trying to calm it. Meanwhile, Azadine created more distance and nocked another arrow, this time aiming directly for Ject’s throat.