"Ah."
Azadin brought the water flask to his mouth, only to be disappointed. Just a drop or two barely moistened his lips.
"This is bad."
He sighed, placing the flask back into his backpack.
"Why did you brag about getting there in just two days? Now you have to take responsibility for it, you stupid spirit."
[Such insolence, speaking that way to the Emperor's Voice.]
A voice echoed around Azadin.
This spirit, known as the Emperor's Voice, was tasked with hearing petitioners' requests and connecting them with nearby members of Herald Clan. It was an artificial spirit created by the emperor, and its power stretched across the entire continent of Hubris.
Even centuries after the emperor's death, the spirit's power had not diminished but remained as potent as ever—a testament to just how powerful the emperor was, almost god-like.
But Azadin, a member of the Herald Clan who was supposed to revere the emperor, scoffed.
"Let's be real. The emperor died without any plan, leaving us, the emperor's heralds, to be hated by the entire world! We're called Divine King Slayers, soulless heretics, and all sorts of names. It's your boasting to a petitioner that made me drop everything and sprint like mad to meet your expectations. Now I'm dying of thirst. I've got nothing to eat but dried rations, and if I eat those, I'll probably choke and die."
[…That is unfortunate. But worry not, your attendants will soon arrive.]
"Attendants? I don't have any attendants."
Just because someone was from the Herald Clan didn't mean they automatically became a herald. Only 108 individuals could match the 108 spirits of the Emperor's Voice. The rest either served as attendants to the heralds or worked in various livelihoods to sustain the herald clan.
In Azadin's case, he was so unpopular among the Herald Clan that no one had volunteered to be his attendant.
[Recently, two individuals applied to serve as your attendants. They are young and exceptional talents.]
"Hmm. No sane person would apply to be my attendant. Exceptional, huh? I don't buy it."
Grumbling, Azadin walked along the dusty road until he halted, spotting an abandoned village with a well. At the village entrance, mirage-like human shadows appeared.
"Ghosts?"
Azadin placed his hand on the sword at his waist.
[They are not enemies. They are petitioners.]
"...Really?"
As Azadin approached, faces emerged from the shadows. He recognized them as the very people who had been hanging from a mulberry tree at the entrance of the village where he had received their petition—a young girl, her lover, and their family, now appearing as wandering souls on the road.
As Azadin drew closer, the ghosts clasped their hands and bowed respectfully. Azadin returned the gesture with a nod.
"This land is devoid of the light of King's Virtue or the blessings of the archangel, so lingering here won't be good for you. I've avenged your grievances, so cross to the other side."
Despite his words, the ghosts pointed toward the village well.
"Oh, are you offering me water? Well, I do need it, but there's no need to go that far… Just rest in peace."
Though he said that, Azadin eagerly retrieved his flask and approached the well. Pulling on the bucket rope, he felt a heavy resistance.
A dried-up well shouldn't feel this heavy.
"Wow, this well looks bone dry, but for there to be water, the ghosts must've worked hard."
Excited, Azadin pulled the bucket up quickly. But when he looked inside, he found sand and a glowing piece of paper.
"..."
[Ah, a copy of the Book of the Divine King.]
"The copy of the Book of the Divine King?"
Azadin flinched at the mention of its name.
"Why is this here...?"
His lips trembled, and just then, a will-o'-the-wisp floated past his eyes.
"Well, thanks, I guess…."
When Azadin turned back, the ghosts bowed to him one last time before walking off into the swirling sands and vanishing.
Even though the petitioners were long dead and their petition fulfilled, they had found and delivered a copy of the Book of the Divine King to Azadin before departing for the afterlife.
It was a touching tale of gratitude even in death, but Azadin smacked his lips in frustration. His mouth was so parched that his lips were cracking and bleeding.
"Thanks, but this is... Why give it to me, of all people?"
Clicking his tongue, Azadin held the glowing page of the copy of the Book of the Divine King. The paper radiated light, with letters inscribed on it that no human intellect could decipher.
Such is the nature of grimoires. Understanding one without guidance is impossible, which is why most grimoires must be studied indirectly through interpretive texts known as 'Haeseo.'
[You don't seem pleased. Isn't this something heralds desire above all else?]
The Emperor's Voice spoke calmly.
"I'm not in a position to be overjoyed."
Azadin gazed at the copy of the Book of the Divine King in his hand, feeling the strange touch of fate.
***
The herald clan was originally a people known as the Aragasa.
They were descendants of a fleet that had braved typhoons and shipwrecked on the shores of the Hubris continent. When they arrived, the emperor welcomed them warmly, and they pledged their loyalty to him, becoming his heralds.
The emperor gifted them the grimoire — Beauty of Nature (Flowers, Birds, Wind, and Moon) and granted them the spirit known as the Emperor's Voice.
Thus, the herald clan became the emperor's sword, executors, and enforcers, punishing unruly nobles who violated the emperor's law and reaping prosperity in return.
But after the emperor's death and the empire's collapse, that prosperity turned into a curse.
The people of Hubris believe in the afterlife. By accumulating virtuous deeds, one can be reborn as a noble entity, with royalty and aristocracy occupying the highest rung of this reincarnation cycle. To harm them is to scorn and destroy the very cycle of the soul.
Thus, no matter how much the kings and nobles exploited and mistreated the people, they could not resist. Not only were the royals and nobles powerful mages, but Hubris' faith and customs regarded spilling their divine blood as a grave blasphemy.
But the emperor needed someone who could commit such blasphemous acts without hesitation. To govern the entire realm of the Eight Kingdoms under imperial law, he required those who could decisively execute corrupt royals and nobles.
So, he welcomed the foreign herald clan, bestowed upon them grimoires, and granted them authority.
They were unaware of this fact—or perhaps they knew but were intoxicated by the emperor's favor.
The herald clan, who had unhesitatingly stained their hands with divine blood, came to be called the slayers of sanctity, despised and rejected by the people.
The herald clan, who had committed blasphemy unimaginable in Hubris' faith without hesitation, were seen as soulless beings to be hated and scorned.
A belief formed: crimes committed against the soulless herald clan would not result in debt of karma.
After the emperor's death and the loss of power, that scorn and hatred turned into persecution, exacted in full upon the herald clan.
The pact they had made with the emperor also became a problem. Even after the emperor died and his empire collapsed, the pact and the contract of service remained intact, binding their clan for generations.
Even in death, the herald clan had to continue their mission as the emperor's heralds. To dissolve the contract, they would have to pay 100,000 imperial gold coins as a cancellation fee. But with the emperor dead and the empire gone, imperial gold coins were no longer minted.
With no way to collect the gold and end the contract, the herald clan began to form new ideas.
What was the source of the emperor's power?
The mages of the Yaegas clan, their kings, and the grimoire passed down through their thrones—the Book of the Divine King.
The emperor must have exercised his power through the Book of the Divine King. If they could acquire it and master its secrets, they could possibly overcome the magical pact binding them.
Thus, the herald clan made acquiring the Book of the Divine King their ultimate goal.
While fulfilling their service contract, they sought to obtain the Book of the Divine King. By doing so, they would break free from the curse of their servitude.
This was the goal of the herald clan.
***
The copy of the Book of the Divine King was something the entire herald clan would risk their lives to obtain. Yet, even with it in his hands, Azadin didn't seem particularly pleased.
"I appreciate what the ghosts did for me. It's nice that they gave me a gift before resting in peace. But what worries me is the fact that this is out in the world now, because the reason it's been unleashed..."
Azadin stared at the copy of the Book of the Divine King for a moment before rolling up the page and tucking it into his backpack.
"Well, since they helped me find it, I can't just leave it here. I guess I'll take it with me."
Leaving the village behind, Azadin set off on the road once more.
The journey back would take longer than the two-day sprint it took to get here. On the way there, he hadn't conserved any water, but now, with none left, he had to pace himself carefully to make it back.
"At least once I get over that mountain... there's water on the other side."
Azadin gazed up at the mountain path before him. The seemingly endless path winding up the mountain made him feel dizzy just looking at it.
How much farther did he have to go?
Would he make it back without any water?
As he pondered this—
Swish!
An arrow suddenly shot toward Azadin.
***
Two mountain goats, each the size of a pony, were making their way down the mountain path. Saddles rested on their backs, and a boy and a girl, who looked to be in their early teens, rode atop them. Despite the rough terrain, their bodies moved minimally, as if they were descending on flat ground.
"Wow, this place is desolate."
The girl clicked her tongue as she looked down at the vast wasteland stretching below the mountain.
"They weren't kidding when they said it hasn't rained a drop for a month."
Dust clouds rose as the girl watched, shaking her head. Below the mountain lay abandoned villages and farms, the wind kicking up dirt with each gust.
"Lady Midiam!"
The boy called out to the girl, chasing after her.
"Let's turn back! It's not too late!"
He followed behind her, trying to change her mind.
"No way. What are you talking about when we've come this far?"
"As a descendant of the founder, you don't need to be the attendant of a lowly herald! You can still cancel it and go back."
"What, so I can just sit around in that boring sanctuary sucking my thumb? Don't be ridiculous. I want to see the world."
Despite her insistence, the girl clicked her tongue as she surveyed the landscape.
"But the scenery here isn't much better. I can't say it's an improvement over the sanctuary."
The eastern interior region had turned into a dry, dusty wasteland due to the prolonged drought.
Although the shadows cast by the setting sun could create a sense of mystique in such desolate places, the young boy and girl were more interested in man-made wonders than the natural scenery before them.
"If we go any farther, it'll be dangerous without water. These mountain goats drink ten times more than a normal person."
"But that stupid herald went in, didn't he?"
"He probably released his mountain goat nearby and entered on foot."
The Kerim mountain goat had excellent stamina but was vulnerable to heat and dryness. They required much more water than humans, so riding them into such arid regions was not an option.
"Let's turn back. Once you meet the herald and declare yourself as his attendant, there's no going back. And don't forget, the one you're about to serve is none other than that 'cursed Azadin.'"
The boy shuddered as he mentioned Azadin's name.