"I will do it."
"No, please allow me to do it."
"Compensate for what you've plundered as well. I've written down all your houses. You wouldn't want to see me again after trying something foolish, would you?"
As Azadin walked, he sought out the victims he could find—those who had been robbed, sitting on the roadside crying, or walking dejectedly—and ensured they were compensated as much as possible. For those he couldn't compensate for, he gathered testimonies and wrote their names on a list.
He was in a hurry, so he couldn't be further involved in the compensation, but he had done as much as he could.
***
"I-Is that everything now?"
When Bühne asked, Azadin smiled.
"No, there's one more thing left."
"What?"
"Removing your combat ability for the time being."
"Huh? What? What are you talking about?"
Instead of answering, Azadin pulled a pair of tongs from his baggage—tongs used for crafting and handling arrowheads.
"Consider yourselves lucky. If you had committed murder, I would have inflicted permanent damage. But from what I've confirmed, you didn't go that far, so I'm letting you off with this."
"Huh? Letting us off with what? What are you— Aaaaagh!"
The pain of having one's nails pulled out raw was enough to make a grown adult cry like a child.
After Azadin pulled out the thumbnails and index fingernails of Bühne's group and cast them out, Tarkiev let out a sigh of relief.
"To think that they'd try to kill their own kin over inheritance rights… People are truly rotten. I even got along with Bühne, too, hyung-nim."
"Indeed. Not that inheritance rights mean much anyway."
Azadin said that to Tarkiev as he wiped down the tongs. Just then, Midiam spoke to him.
"Still, you seem to have recovered a bit now."
"Why?"
"Nothing. It's just that you returned the stolen goods to the victims. It feels like you're back to your usual self. As expected, pregnancy really makes one's emotions fluctuate, doesn't it?"
"Oh, for God's sake."
Azadin let out a sigh.
"Childbirth under the Curse of Service isn't a normal pregnancy. That kind of thing doesn't happen."
"But you were acting completely different from your usual self."
"I can get angry, too. When emotions run high, anyone can lose control of themselves. And for the record, the person currently making me angry is you, Midiam."
"Huh? Me?"
"Yeah."
At that moment, Ishmael asked,
"Didn't you sell off the silver candelabras that Tarkiev's mercenaries looted? Why are you going out of your way to return things this time?"
"There were too many back then. It was too much for me to return on my own, and there were too many mercenaries around. Besides, those villagers would've had to evacuate anyway."
"Evacuate…"
"More ogres were coming. They had to flee. Returning their stolen goods—most of which were furniture—would've only been a burden on their escape."
"But you still profited from it, didn't you?"
"I had no choice. I'm the type to be flexible when necessary."
Azadin was a good man, but he was no naïve fool. As the emperor's herald, he had to grasp harsh realities.
"This time, though, it was easy to return the items, and there weren't too many. Why? Do you have a problem with that?"
"I simply cannot understand you. You are like… something foreign. It's much easier to comprehend those who are obsessed with killing and pillaging."
"Is that so? But I think I understand you to some extent."
"You understand me?"
Ishmael felt offended by Azadin claiming to understand him. It felt as if he were being labeled as simple and easy to read, and it stirred a sense of resentment.
Just then, Tarkiev, who was leading the group, clicked his tongue.
"Everyone, be quiet. There's a knight of salvation ahead."
"Hm? A knight of salvation?"
Azadin's interest was piqued.
***
As they approached Salasma, people were everywhere. Refugees were pouring in from all over. A month-long drought had dried up the rivers, there was no aid reaching the frontier settlements, and troubling events were occurring everywhere.
Yet, the count's illegitimate children were causing a ruckus, claiming they were searching for the Book of the Divine King, pillaging people wherever they went. Those who had lost their homes were flocking to Salasma, where at least there was food and clothing.
Near Salasma, in an open area, several firms and the knights of salvation had rented an entire inn, turning it into a relief center.
"Oh, the Wheel of Three Wings!"
Azadin was delighted to see the flag bearing the emblem of the knights of salvation—a cartwheel with three wings.
"So it really is the knights of salvation. Impressive."
"...."
Midiam and Ishmael were left speechless at Azadin's delight in witnessing the good deeds of the knights of salvation.
Unlike the king's church, the knights of salvation wouldn't attack the Herald Clan on sight. However, their members were still people of Hubris. They, too, saw Aragasa as soulless, profane beings and despised them as cursed existences, no different from others.
Even that so-called relief center was funded through "donations" that were all but extorted from the firms. Moreover, the knights of salvation were accepting children from refugee parents who had given up on raising them, all to expand their own ranks.
Rumor had it that the knights of salvation owned vast lands in their main stronghold, the Inland Sea Peninsula, and needed an immense number of serfs to cultivate the region.
There were dark whispers that the knights were gathering orphans and refugees under the pretext of charity, only to send them off to develop the Inner Sea Peninsula.
"Should I say something? No, even if I did, it seems like the knights of salvation are precious to him. It would be pointless, wouldn't it?"
Midiam kept her mouth shut as she watched Azadin being pleased with the relief efforts of the knights of salvation.
"Surprising. You, of all people, are actually hesitating to speak?"
"N-No, but, isn't it obvious?"
Midiam shrugged her shoulders.
"Since there's a possibility that a new life has taken root inside Azadin, it wouldn't be good to stress out a pregnant person too much."
"Hey. I can hear everything, you know?"
Azadin snorted in disbelief at Midiam treating him like a pregnant woman.
"Well, the decision to dismiss me was probably a mistake made by the upper ranks out of fear of Arael. If I go talk to them, I can sort things out."
Now that he had cooled down, Azadin realized that he had plenty of means to negotiate with the upper ranks of Aragasa.
He had two copies of the Book of the Divine King and had amassed a significant amount of gold coins in a short time. There was likely no other herald in history who had processed three imperial petitions in such a short period.
'Right now, there are a lot of crises, so people must be submitting petitions without hesitation. The people of Hubris think of summoning a herald as akin to selling their soul to a demon.'
Even those who hoarded the emperor's gold only used it when they were truly desperate, when they were cornered—never because they liked the Herald Clan.
In other words, with the drought continuing and the Kurt Divine Clan rising in rebellion over the Book of the Divine King, heralds in other regions were likely experiencing record-breaking gold coin collection rates.
Thinking about it like that made him feel a little uneasy.
'Does the clan hate me? What if they refuse when I ask to be reinstated? What if they try to kill me and take my copies of the Book of the Divine King?'
Azadin shook his head at the thought. No matter how much they disliked him, it would be pure paranoia to assume they would go that far out of sheer stubbornness.
"Let's just prepare for camp!"
***
They began preparing to camp near the dried-up riverbank. Since tents were too heavy to carry, camping preparations usually just meant clearing the ground.
"Why do I have to do this kind of menial work? I'm a noble and a knight."
Tarkiev grumbled as he picked stones out of the ground.
"Stay there and keep working on that for a bit."
Azadin left the complaining Tarkiev to his task and surveyed the area. Other refugees were around, but seeing a knight like Tarkiev preparing a campsite made them slowly back away and yield space.
As evening fell, workers from the inn began distributing blankets, each marked with the emblem of the knights of salvation, along with bread.
"Those who need blankets, you may borrow them. They are borrowed, so you must return them."
"If you don't return them, you will fall into hell in the afterlife or be reborn as a member of the Herald Clan."
Midiam chuckled upon hearing that.
"Now that's some real motivation."
"Considering the return rate of those blankets is probably abysmal, does that mean all these people will be reborn as members of our clan?"
"Seems that way."
Midiam said that while looking toward Azadin's stomach.
"What? Why are you looking at me?"
"Well, if some of the people who don't return the blankets end up being reborn into our clan, then if the Curse of Service activates and you end up having a child…"
"Hey. Droopy Eyes, was she always like this?"
"Yes."
Ishmael bowed his head and answered, as if embarrassed by Midiam's behavior.
"Her peers must have hated her."
"What are you saying? My peers worshipped me."
Midiam shrugged and said proudly.
"Anyway, let's go get some of that bread."
"Huh? We have our own food. I thought you, of all people, wouldn't take relief supplies."
Midiam had always seen Azadin as someone who upheld his principles. Though he was pragmatic, he was fundamentally a good person—someone who was friendly toward the people of Hubris, helped the weak, and was harsh on the strong.
Yet now, he wanted to take relief supplies meant for refugees? That would only reduce the amount of food available to those in need.
"I just want to see what kind of provisions the knights of salvation are handing out."
Saying that, Azadin approached the cart where relief goods were being distributed and spoke to a knight of salvation.
***
"They're busy dealing with people, so why is he talking to them?"
"He must really like the stories about the knights of salvation. I think he just wants to exchange words with them and get closer to them in any way he can."
A short while later, Azadin returned, holding a loaf of bread distributed by the knights.
"You actually took the bread?"
"Of course, I didn't steal relief supplies. I made a donation."
"A herald… gave money to the knights of salvation? As a donation?"
"Yeah."
"..."
"What? Got a problem with that?"
"You were there for quite a while for just a donation. What were you talking about?"
Ishmael asked in a cold tone.
"Oh, I asked if they could stamp my parchment with the same emblem they marked those blankets with. They refused, though."
"..."
"Why would you even want their emblem?"
"Because the knights of salvation's insignia looks cool. Isn't it?"
"..."
Midiam and Ishmael exchanged glances.
"I don't think so. It's not a dragon or anything, just a cartwheel."
"But it belongs to the knights of salvation. Hmm. Our Aragasa clan doesn't really have many symbols. The hawk is our emblem, but it's not something we can openly display."
Azadin absentmindedly fiddled with the new mask he carried. The hawk-shaped mask was a symbol of Aragasa, but due to their persecuted status, it wasn't something he could wear openly.
"In storybooks, the knights of salvation are heroes who treat everyone equally, but in reality, the moment they find out we're part of the Herald Clan, they'll try to kill us. Even if you admire them, they will betray your feelings. Doesn't that scare you?"
Midiam asked, as if subtly trying to poke at Azadin.
"It's fine. My belief isn't something so fragile. Even if they persecute me, even if they eventually kill me, that doesn't mean my belief has been betrayed."
"..."
Hearing that, Midiam realized that Azadin's admiration for the knights of salvation wasn't just childish longing—it was something deeper, a powerful conviction.
But would belief really never betray him?
For some reason, an ominous feeling crept up Midiam's spine. She had a strong premonition that Azadin's faith was about to be tested.