Arael Tribe (5)

No, he was trying to draw his sword. But Azadine was faster.

Azadine extended his foot, blocking the pommel of the Count’s sword so that the blade could not leave its sheath. He swiftly drew his own sword and swung it toward the Count’s neck.

It was a display of lightning-fast speed and overwhelming power. However…

-Ka-Kack!

Azadine’s sword merely grazed the Count’s armor and neck guard. The 75th-ranked Messenger of the Messenger Clan, Nefti, had subtly pulled the Count back to help him evade the attack.

“You’ve crossed the line!”

At that moment, Nefti drew her sword.

“Stop it. You know we’re not supposed to attack during negotiations.”

With one hand, Nefti pushed the Count behind her, while the other hand held a slender, needle-like sword aimed at Azadine’s neck. It was a piercing-specialized weapon, capable of penetrating armor with ease. Though thin, the blade was surprisingly heavy, but Nefti wielded it as if it were part of her body.

Azadine, however, countered by blocking the trajectory of her blade with the tip of his sword hilt.

“We are under a white flag of negotiation, and no matter how provoked you are, you can’t strike first. It’s just a petty provocation! Falling for that and making a foolish move will get you killed, no matter your lineage. Even if you’re Arael’s younger sibling, or if you’re born of some exalted bloodline, I’ll make you regret being born. Torture, humiliation, and begging for death would follow.”

Nefti, with her sword pointed at Azadine, smiled.

“Exactly. Attacking during negotiations under a white flag would make one a fool….”

Both Azadine and Nefti lowered their swords at the same time.

“You wretched scoundrels!”

Count Lantarique, realizing their words were directed at him, fumed with anger. Yet, Nefti’s statement lingered in his mind.

“Regardless of your bloodline, I will punish you.”

Wasn’t that aimed squarely at the Count?

“So, the rumors about Kahsan’s defeat were true. Your skills are formidable. But Azadine, you don’t seem to be in perfect condition. You’re sweating bullets.”

“I tend to overheat easily.”

Azadine avoided Nefti’s sharp gaze, which seemed to see through his injuries.

“Why has Arael sided with the Count?”

“I can’t disclose that. But if you’re curious, why not join us? Then I’ll happily tell you.”

“It’s not to petition for gold coins, is it? Partnering with the Count alone gives me plenty of reasons not to trust Arael.”

“That’s unfair. Do you think other branches of the Messenger Clan are pure and untainted?”

“If you’ve turned against the existing power structure, you should at least carry a banner of a different color. Coming here with the same banner and asking me to switch sides feels unreasonable. Besides, do you know who left a scar on my face? Your glorious Arael.”

“Thanks to that, you look quite dashing now.”

“It seems we’ve talked enough. I have one demand: guarantee the lives of everyone in this fortress, including the civilians the Count’s forces have captured. That’s all I ask.”

Azadine shot a glance at Nefti before turning away.

“You’ll regret this, you bratty Messenger.”

The Count threatened Azadine as he departed.

Negotiations with the Count ended in failure. It was an inevitable result since swords were drawn and swung at each other during the meeting.

The Count had attempted to draw his sword first, but Azadine seized the opportunity to try and kill him on the spot.

This man was beyond redemption.

He unleashed bandits on civilians, pillaging, tormenting, and massacring without hesitation. Keeping such a grand noble alive would only result in countless more victims.

Even if it meant violating the laws of negotiation and facing universal condemnation, Azadine was ready to kill him—until Nefti interfered.

Yet Nefti defended Azadine. It was the Count who first violated the laws of negotiation. She dismissed the incident as a minor happening, and Azadine tacitly agreed.

“Well then….”

Azadine’s group returned to the fortress and locked the gates behind them.

The soldiers flocked toward them like hungry chicks, only to stop in shock upon seeing their commander unconscious.

“H-how did the negotiations go?”

“They’ve fallen through.”

Azadine stated bluntly before finding a seat and lying down.

“What?!”

“The Count underestimates the defensive capabilities of this fortress. He believes he can force the gates open, even if we don’t unlock them for him. That’s why his offer for us to open the gates was so miserly.”

Azadine spoke while lying down, causing everyone to exchange uncertain glances. At that moment, the awakened commander jolted up.

“Huh? Wh-what happened?”

“Commander?!”

“Is it true that the negotiations failed?”

The commander asked in alarm.

“Failed negotiations? Ah, damn it! Hey!”

The commander abruptly got up and looked around.

“Messenger Clan! Why did you reject the Count’s proposal?”

“What do you mean?”

Azadine rolled onto his side and stared at the commander.

“He said he’d let us go if we handed over one old man, didn’t he?”

The commander’s words startled all the soldiers.

That’s not what the Messenger had said. In fact, the Messenger had been rather vague. But if the commander’s words were true, they could have been saved. Yet the negotiations had failed.

“You must have missed it because you were unconscious, but the Count demanded your lives as well. He said disloyal knights and soldiers aren’t worth keeping alive. He proposed sparing the civilians trapped here only if we handed over the fortress’s garrison.”

“…….”

Zebec clicked his tongue at Azadine’s audacious lie. He was outright fabricating things without hesitation.

“What? Nonsense! Why would a grand noble like the Count care about the life of a low-ranking knight like me?”

“Well, why would a senile scribe’s life matter to him? Count Lantarique is a very emotional and terrifying man. He gave us an ultimatum: either all the soldiers die, or all the civilians die. He’s confident he can twist open this fortress like it’s nothing, which is why he made such arrogant demands.”

Azadine’s eloquence bewitched everyone who listened.

Come to think of it, didn’t it sound plausible?

Count Lantarique viewed this fortress as insignificant and insulted the negotiators by demanding they open the gates as a condition for ensuring their safety.

It was a plausible story when considered logically. However, for Zebec, who knew the truth, it was difficult to maintain his composure.

‘How can someone lie so skillfully?’

But Azadine’s demeanor was so calm and natural that no one questioned it.

“W-wait a moment! Is that true, Sir Holy Knight?”

The commander turned to Zebec for confirmation.

“It would put the commander in an awkward position to say such things here….”

As a Holy Knight, Zebec avoided lying outright. He simply refrained from answering.

When Zebec trailed off, everyone assumed Azadine’s words to be true and let it slide.

“Ugh….”

The guards, who had been eager to offer up someone else’s life, quickly quieted down when their own lives were on the line.

Would the civilians be massacred while the guards survived?

Would the guards be slaughtered while the civilians were spared?

If the Count had made such a proposition, neither side could be chosen.

As Azadine had suggested, they needed to demonstrate the fortress’s defensive capabilities and inflict heavy damage on the Count’s army. Only then would the Count understand that opening the gates would warrant a greater concession.

At that moment, the Count’s army began to move.

Unable to contain his anger after being humiliated by Azadine, the Count immediately ordered his troops to advance toward the fortress.

“Is he out of his mind?”

Azadine clicked his tongue as he watched the approaching soldiers. A small fortress like this was, in fact, harder to siege. A larger castle would have multiple gates for practicality, making it harder to defend.

But this fortress, built as a watchtower to control the emperor’s road, had only one entrance. The rest was solid stone walls. It wasn’t even critical to bypass this fortress, yet the Count insisted on a direct assault just because of a slight insult.

“Everyone, step back from the walls.”

Azadine instructed the soldiers to retreat from the ramparts.

“Are you out of your mind?”

The commander protested but stood on the wall with his bow and stones. At that moment, an archer concealed among the attackers fired an arrow.

-Swaeek!

The arrow flew with terrifying speed, knocking the commander’s helmet off. Azadine quickly grabbed the commander’s coat and pulled him back, saving his life, but he couldn’t prevent the arrow from tearing through the helmet and leaving a long gash on the commander’s ear and sideburns.

“This is bad.”

It was Nefti’s greeting. When Azadine attacked the Count earlier, Nefti had protected him from harm.

In contrast, though Azadine saved the commander, he couldn’t prevent the man from sustaining a significant injury.

“Aagh! It hurts! Poison—it’s poisoned!”

“No, it’s just an arrow. Stop exaggerating.”

Azadine bent the commander over and examined the arrow that had shredded his helmet.

“It’s a Blue Steel Arrow. They’re using some expensive gear.”

Arrows generally came in two types: lightweight hunting arrows and steel-tipped arrows for penetrating armor.

The Messenger Clan had two additional premium varieties. One was the luxurious Blue Steel Arrow, crafted from blue steel, and the other was the Black Steel Arrow, coated in a potent poison capable of tearing through armor like paper.

Three Blue Steel arrows cost a single gold coin.

Such an expensive weapon was a Blue Steel Arrow.

“Shall we return the favor?”

Azadine shot an arrow toward the archers covering the advancing troops from below.

The nearby soldiers raised their shields to protect the archers, but Azadine had already predicted their movements.

-Flowers, Birds, Wind, Moon; Kazas Grimoire! Yellow Crane!

The arrow curved mid-flight, slicing through the archers’ bows and fingers.

“Graaah!”

Amazingly, Azadine’s single arrow severed fingers and bows before continuing its trajectory to strike other archers. However….

-Thump!

Among the archers, someone moved and caught the arrow.

It wasn’t Nefti but another member of the Messenger Clan, hidden among the archers.

“Is this from the Kazas Grimoire? It moves with a trajectory and force similar to the Yellow Crane spell, even without enchantments.”

The boy, larger than the average farmer on the Hubris Continent but not particularly large among the Aragasans, caught the arrow and smirked.

“Don’t grab it carelessly. Azadine’s skills are unpredictable. What if the arrow tore through your hand?”

“I was curious, though. They said Kahsan was defeated….”

Here and there among the Count’s soldiers were members of the Messenger Clan—Arael’s followers.

“Just as I thought….”

Azadine furrowed his brow.

“You’ve been preparing for rebellion for a long time.”

Echoing in Azadine’s ears was the bold voice of a girl—Arael’s voice.

‘I will raise the Aragasans anew. We will destroy all antiquated systems that deny us what we deserve through our power!’

The result of her bold proclamation was now unfolding before Azadine’s eyes.