Arael Tribe (4)

Approximately 200 soldiers had gathered in front of the fortress. The scene was grim, with villagers tied up and dragged along, accompanied by an enormous amount of loot, suggesting the nearby villages had already been pillaged.

Under normal circumstances, such looting would have left the army in disarray, but Count Garnahaer’s troops moved with an unexpected discipline even amidst this chaos.

From the state of the soldiers alone, it was evident that Count Garnahaer of Lantarique was not an ordinary man. The soldiers chanted in unison, repeating the orders of their officers, urging the people within the fortress to negotiate with the count.

A flag was raised over the fortress, and three figures stepped out: Azadine, Sir Zebec, and the fortress commander, a knight of lower rank who had led the defenses.

On the opposing side, Count Garnahaer emerged accompanied by one knight and one Messenger Clan member to meet Azadine’s group.

“I am Count Garnahaer of Lantarique. Who among you holds authority?”

The count, despite his white hair, appeared youthful for a middle-aged man. His sharp features, likely a result of his strong Yaegas heritage, exuded a composed and commanding presence. His eyes glowed faintly as though radiating their own light, giving him an almost otherworldly aura.

Such was his imposing demeanor that most common folk would feel an instinctive fear upon seeing him. A man in silver armor like him could easily be mistaken for an angel by a naïve village boy.

‘And yet, this man has committed atrocities against civilians,’

Azadine thought, sighing as he stepped forward to address the count.

“That would be me.”

“How peculiar. A Messenger Clan member, yet you’re the one deciding the negotiations?”

“I’m a professional, after all. Besides, you’ve brought a Messenger Clan member for negotiations too, haven’t you, Count?”

“……”

Garnahaer fell silent, seemingly at a loss for words.

“More importantly… is that Nefti over there?”

Azadine turned his attention to the woman standing beside the count. She was Nefti, the 75th-ranked Messenger.

The rankings among Messengers were only numerical, but the 75th rank was still a significant accomplishment. Nefti was particularly notable for rising to her position without any familial connections, proving her worth entirely through her own abilities.

A senior to Azadine by three classes, Nefti regarded him with an intrigued expression.

“You know of me, Azadine?”

“Yes. You’re much more renowned than Kahsan, 75th-ranked Messenger.”

“Indeed. So, is it true that you defeated Kahsan?”

“Did Kahsan tell you that himself?”

“He did. It’s remarkable. For someone like you, who’s been scorned by the clan, to defeat him, it must have taken quite a feat. Kahsan, however, valued the organization’s interest over his pride. Quite a charming fellow, don’t you think?”

“From my perspective, that’s a rather complicated thing to say.”

By admitting his defeat, Kahsan had tarnished his honor, which he would have preferred to conceal. From Azadine’s point of view, it was hardly a compliment.

“Of course, I apologize for looking down on you, Azadine. On that note, why don’t you join our side? Lady Arael has instructed us to bring you back. Everyone opposed the idea, believing you were incompetent, but defeating Kahsan changes things. You’d be welcomed warmly.”

“Rather than discussing that, shouldn’t we focus on negotiations with the count first? I propose opening the fortress gates in exchange for ensuring the safety of those inside, as well as allowing the villagers still alive to retreat from the area.”

“The villagers too? That’s quite the demand for simply opening the gates.”

“It’s not money we’re asking for. If we open the gates, we need a valid justification. Claiming that we opened the gates to protect the people provides a moral high ground, and it saves the count the trouble of tarnishing his reputation. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement, don’t you think?”

Azadine’s words caused Garnahaer to frown deeply.

“Are you mocking me?”

“Pardon?”

“Speaking of reputations—isn’t that just a veiled criticism of my actions? How dare you rebuke me to my face? Such insolence!”

“That wasn’t my intention. I apologize if it came across that way.”

“First, remove that mask. Coming to a negotiation wearing a mask is unacceptable!”

“I’m not exactly pleasant to look at, but… fine.”

Azadine removed his mask, causing Garnahaer to recoil slightly.

“Your eyes…”

“They’re unsightly, so I keep them hidden.”

“Hmm. In any case, I will not hand over the villagers. Open the gates, leave everything untouched, and depart. This fortress would fall soon enough without your interference. Oh, and…”

“Yes?”

“There’s an old man named Brand among you. He used to work as a scribe in my household but was convicted of embezzlement and theft. Surrender him to me.”

“Brand, you say?”

“Yes. If you do not turn him over, I will not recognize your surrender.”

“Hmm. For someone as distinguished as you, Count, it seems trivial to personally demand one decrepit old man.”

“That man stole something of great value to me. Furthermore, he’s been in my service for years. To let him go after such a betrayal would damage my reputation. He could spread falsehoods that undermine my standing.”

“Understood. So, the terms are: open the gates, surrender Brand, leave the villagers to you, and ensure only our own lives are spared. Is that correct?”

“That is correct.”

At this, the fortress commander turned to Azadine, urging him.

“Let’s agree to this. If all it takes is handing over the villagers and one old scribe, it’s a small price to pay for our lives.”

“……”

Revealing weakness in the midst of negotiations? Azadine clicked his tongue at the fortress commander’s behavior.

“Understood. Then we’ll return to the fortress to discuss our decision.”

“No, decide here and now.”

The count stopped Azadine from returning.

“If you don’t open the gates immediately, it will be no different from resisting to the end. You sought negotiations to open the gates and beg for your lives, didn’t you? So what’s the problem? The lives of the villagers? Brand’s life? Oh, is it because Brand might have said something strange about me?”

“He’s lost his mind. He claimed that he was forced to eat his own wife and children after being captured by the bandits. He’s gone mad.”

“Is that so? Then it’s even less of an issue. Surely you wouldn’t want everyone here to be slaughtered over some senile old man. Decide here, now.”

The count’s demand was forceful, leaving no room for delay.

“Let’s just accept it… We can’t possibly defy a great noble like the count….”

As the fortress commander once again displayed undue weakness, Azadine casually waved his hand.

-Thunk!

“Urgh?!”

The commander collapsed, unconscious. Sir Zebec, as though expecting Azadine’s action, stepped forward and supported the fallen man with ease.

“Oh?”

The count narrowed his eyes as he observed the coordination between the Messenger Clan member and the Holy Knight of the King’s Church.

“It seems you have yet to experience our defensive capabilities, Count.”

Azadine smiled as he spoke.

“Your defenses?”

“Yes. You think taking this fortress would be as easy as eating porridge, so opening the gates and surrendering wouldn’t change anything for you. Isn’t that correct?”

“It is.”

“In that case, we must demonstrate the value of what we’re offering. If we defend the fortress and whittle down your forces little by little, perhaps then you’ll see fit to grant the lives of the villagers, a mad old scribe, and the soldiers here as part of the deal.”

“Are you threatening me? Why go to such lengths? This has nothing to do with you.”

“Because I’m the Emperor’s Messenger. I value the lives of the people and consider it my mission to hear the voices of the wronged.”

“Even though the Emperor has been dead for centuries? Fine, then. I’ll start by killing the villagers I’ve captured. If you don’t agree to negotiate, I’ll execute them. Reducing the Salasma population works well with my strategy anyway. What will you choose if you value their lives so much?”

“Hmm…”

Sir Zebec let out a troubled sound. Though a Holy Knight of the King’s Church and of lower noble descent, he had never encountered such blatant cruelty before.

Among lesser nobles, disputes over land, water, or wells were common, but civilians were always protected. Even if they were treated as livestock, a genuine sense of responsibility to safeguard them often prevailed.

However, the rules that governed lesser nobles did not apply to a great noble like Count Garnahaer of Lantarique. With a large city as his territory, he had a steady influx of population and could easily train soldiers. He also had the means to redistribute his people to frontier villages. For someone like him, the lives of another lord’s villagers were expendable for his strategies.

In short, this man was entirely capable of carrying out his threats.

‘He’s willing to kill civilians just to make a point? Disgusting.’

As a Holy Knight, Zebec was bound to protect the nobility who bore the Light of the Crown and the bloodline of Yaegas. However, the count’s words filled him with revulsion.

What would Azadine’s response be?

“Ah, what an amusing threat. But you’ve already been killing villagers. Even if I open the gates, you’ll still kill them, won’t you? Killing them here in front of the fortress will only tarnish your dignity. Unless, of course, you don’t care about your reputation.”

“Hmph. Tarnish my dignity by killing villagers? You must be joking. I’m showing mercy.”

The count said this with a brazen expression.

Mercy? Even if one gave him the benefit of the doubt, how could anyone call what his subordinate Doneor did merciful? Torturing humans and forcing families to eat each other—where was the mercy in that?

“My terms are non-negotiable. Open the gates in exchange for guaranteeing the lives of the villagers, the scribe Brand, and the soldiers defending this fortress. If you break these terms and start killing people in front of me, I’ll simply take a different approach. Keeping those villagers in your hands is equivalent to killing them already.”

“Then I’ll start executing the captives immediately and kill you all as well. Are you fine with that?”

Azadine didn’t respond. Instead, he calmly put his mask back on and turned his gaze toward Nefti, the 75th-ranked Messenger standing beside the count.

“Nefti, you’re aligned with Arael, aren’t you? Just like Kahsan?”

“I am.”

“Then why are you working with an idiot like this?”

“What?!”

The count erupted in anger, glaring at Azadine for openly insulting him.

“You insolent wretch!”

Furious, the count drew his sword.