"With this, I have taught you everything I can."
As the dazzling morning sunlight crossed the ridge of the atmosphere, the master spoke with the light behind him.
"But the Kazas Haeseo is destroying your body, Azadin. I made a mistake in my thinking. It is not suited for humans."
"Not suited?"
"Yes. We elves, even if we are injured, will inevitably heal completely. Our joints and ligaments regenerate entirely, so chronic illnesses like arthritis or back pain that humans suffer from are merely temporary injuries for us."
"That sounds enviable."
"If you continue using the Kazas Haeseo, your body will deteriorate, and the damage will accumulate. You will suffer in old age—if you even live to see old age."
The master was worried about Azadin.
"Azadin, what I have taught you may betray you."
"No, Master."
Azadin shook his head.
"The Kazas Haeseo cannot betray me."
He looked down at his arms.
The power embedded within them.
This power, given to him, who had once been despised as an outcast of the Herald Clan, had saved him. But more than anything, the one who had truly saved him was his master, who felt sorrow for his sake.
"I have already been saved, so this power cannot betray me. What I fear, however, is…"
***
"Ugh…."
Azadin opened his eyes—or rather, since he had no eyes, it would be more accurate to say that his consciousness awoke and his 'sight' was activated.
The dazzling light, like the morning sunlight of that day, shook Azadin's mind awake with its stimulus. It was a pleasant sensation.
Azadin lifted his head and watched as the morning sunlight caressed the land.
"Magnificent."
The morning sunlight he saw every day, the scenery that seemed the same everywhere—yet, every time he looked at it, memories surfaced, making it appear even more beautiful.
He controlled his wounds through breathing and steadied his mind with memories before standing up.
"You're awake. Are you alright?"
Zebeck looked at Azadin with worried eyes.
"Sir Zebeck?"
Azadin recalled from his memories of the previous night that Zebeck had helped him. He remembered being struck by Zekt, breaking his ribs, being stabbed in the chest by a Black Steel Arrow, and facing a dire situation.
Yet, weren't all his wounds now healed?
"I washed your wounds and applied ointment, but if you move, they will reopen."
When they first met, Zebeck had regarded Azadin as a mere ruffian. From the perspective of the King's Church, the Herald Clan were heretics who had to be killed on sight—an obvious stance.
But now, Zebeck's attitude toward Azadin was nothing but respectful.
'I saved his life, so I could boast a little, but he's really a serious man.'
Thinking that, Azadin expressed his gratitude to Zebeck.
"I caused you trouble. But where are we?"
"We are at the border between the County of Lantarik and the County of Salasma. You can see the Kora River over there."
"Ugh. Damn, my whole body aches. My head feels like it's shaking apart. Damn it. I shot Zekt straight through with an arrow, and he still didn't die. He's definitely crossed the line. He's no longer human."
"The Inquisitors and Judges do research into black magic, but yes, that was definitely beyond the limit. Even so, to have driven an arrow into Sir Zekt—that is truly impressive."
To have injured a strong opponent like Sir Zekt—that alone was a feat worth praising, and that was why Zebeck was complimenting Azadin.
Zekt was a figure at the pinnacle of the church, yet Azadin, who was merely a 108th ranked Herald, had managed to wound him.
"He was caught off guard, so I struck him with a Black Steel Arrow, that's all."
"Even so, if Sir Zekt had been an ordinary human, you would have won."
"..."
Embarrassment tingled on his face. Azadin felt ashamed, as if his words had sounded like an excuse.
"But Sir Zebeck, can you return to the church now?"
"I must testify that Sir Zekt used black magic and prove my innocence in court. However, since Dame Meiya saw me rescue you and flee, if I go to trial, I will be branded a heretic and executed."
"Uh, hmm… Sorry about that."
"I had already prepared for this. In fact, I am grateful for this opportunity to make my resolve clear."
"Grateful?"
"Yes. I had long felt that something was wrong with Sir Zekt. However, his high rank and great influence in the church made it impossible to oppose him or submit to him, leaving me wandering in uncertainty. Now, I have been given the chance to make up my mind, and I feel relieved."
Zebeck had once learned under Zekt and respected him. As a member of the royal bloodline who treated all people with respect, Zekt's elegant demeanor and refined grace were qualities few could dislike.
But the Zekt he met now was no longer the man he once knew. He had become a slave to terrifying power, wielding black magic without hesitation.
"Sir Zekt said he was searching for a copy of the Book of the Divine King. The Herald Clan is also looking for it… isn't that right?"
"That's correct."
"From the perspective of a Holy Knight of the church, the very fact that the Book of the Divine King has been leaked is intolerable."
"But for the Herald Clan, it is something that cannot be abandoned. They believe it is the only way to lift the Emperor's Curse. It is the greatest wish of our people. We can never give up. Besides, we were the ones who originally leaked the Book of the Divine King."
Azadin and Arael, two siblings born of a curse, were deeply entangled in the incident surrounding the leak of the copy of the Book of the Divine King.
"But can the Herald Clan be trusted? Even if they gather the copies of the Book of the Divine King and lift the Emperor's Curse, they will still have those copies in their possession. When they hold such power in their hands, can they truly be trusted?"
"No, of course not. They won't just stop at lifting the Emperor's Curse. Without a doubt, they will seek revenge for the persecution they've suffered. I know because I'm an Aragasa. Our clan has a strong sense of retribution."
Azadin shook his head, then groaned as his expression twisted in pain. Moving even slightly hurt.
"Hearing you say that, at least you seem better than me. When you belong to an organization, you inevitably get swept along by its interests and logic. Even when you realize your organization is flawed, you justify it by telling yourself that all organizations have their faults, and you stay silent about its misdeeds."
"Well, don't blame yourself too much. Most people are like that."
"What about you? Not all Herald Clan members are as honorable as you. Azadin, when the time comes, will you be able to speak out against your own organization?"
"I'd be lying if I said I was sure. It's easy to point out others' faults, but hard to see your own."
However, in Azadin's case, he was already considered a heretic among the Herald Clan, so in that regard, his situation was better than that of Zebeck, who had once been Zekt's trainee knight.
"Ugh, it hurts."
Azadin took out a needle and thread, intending to stitch his wounds, but as he moved, a sharp pain surged through him. It seemed that his ribs were not only broken but also cracked.
"I can do it for you, but are you alright with that? We don't have any alcohol."
Normally, when stitching a wound, one would drink strong liquor to dull the pain before proceeding. However, Azadin steadied his breathing and held out the needle.
"It's fine. Just do it."
"Understood."
Zebeck stitched Azadin's wound and wrapped bandages around his body to protect his cracked ribs.
"All done."
"You're pretty good at this."
"Well, I am a Holy Knight, after all. It's not just the Knights of Salvation who know how to treat wounds. Hm?"
Zebeck turned his gaze toward the Kora River and furrowed his brows. In the distance, smoke was rising. The territory of Count Salasma was burning.
"It seems war has begun."
***
Count Garnahair, the Margrave of Lantarik, had once invaded the lands of the Margrave of Salasma and suffered defeat. To avoid complete disgrace, he had been forced into a political marriage, giving his daughter to the enemy in a humiliating reconciliation.
But now, there were rumors that Count Kazel, the Margrave of Salasma, had betrayed humanity and become a Naga, ultimately meeting his death. If there was ever a time to settle old grudges and satisfy his desires, it was now.
"So, it's war."
Azadin, watching from the high ground, furrowed his brows.
"They say the bandits in this area are agents of Count Lantarik. That means they've been planning this for a long time. What should we do? It would be best to avoid this, wouldn't it?"
There was no reason to get involved in a war. Especially now, when Azadin was in no condition to fight, it was even more imperative to stay clear.
However, at that moment, Azadin noticed something and grimaced.
"Damn it. I just saw something I shouldn't have."
"What is it?"
"A Kerim Goat."
"That goat? I've seen smaller ones used by merchants before."
Zebeck looked down alongside Azadin. Even the fortress engulfed in flames appeared small from this distance. And yet, he could recognize a goat from here?
"It belongs to my servants. I'm sure of it."
It was impressive enough to distinguish between a goat and a horse from this far away, but to recognize whose goat it was?
"I told them to protect the civilians, so naturally, they must have gone to the nearest village. But… the war just had to start now. I have to go help them."
"You're in no shape to fight. And besides, isn't your bow broken?"
"That's why I'm asking. Can you help me?"
Azadin straightforwardly asked Zebeck for assistance.
"Hah. You're really something. Asking a Holy Knight of the King's Church, whom you've only just met, for help? You sure have a way with people."
"We've only just met, but that's enough. Some people spend a lifetime together and never reveal their true worth, while others prove everything in a single moment."
"..."
"What?"
"That's too much praise. Get on. Your goat isn't in any condition to be ridden, is it?"
Zebeck mounted his horse and extended a hand to Azadin.
***
As Azadin had predicted, Midiam and Ishmael had arrived at the village to evacuate the refugees but had been forced to take shelter in a fortress when Count Lantarik's army suddenly launched an attack.
The fortress was garrisoned by barely twenty soldiers, but its walls were so well-built that even with such a small force, they could hold out for a while. However…
"So that's why those bandits were killing people and eating human flesh."
Midiam trembled at the horrific sight before her.
Count Lantarik's army seemed intent on securing this strategically vital fortress before advancing.
Though the fortress had only a handful of soldiers, it was a key stronghold that could threaten the Kora River crossing. Since Salasma was now under the control of the King's Church, it was impossible for the Lantarik army to capture it through swift maneuvers, making a thorough conquest of the Kora River region the more strategic choice.
And so, Count Lantarik's army had chosen mass slaughter and public executions as their means of siege.
They had raided the surrounding farms and fishing villages, rounding up civilians and driving them forward. Now, in front of the fortress, a human wall had formed—peasants tied with ropes, forced forward as living shields.
"Advance!"
At the command of the soldiers in the rear, the bound peasants struck the fortress gates with plows and harrows, chipping away at them little by little.
If left alone, even the sturdiest fortress would eventually fall. But shooting the civilians, used as human shields, was not an option either.
"W-what should we do?"
"Damn it. That bastard. Count Lantarik has gone mad."
The fortress soldiers and their commander were horrified by the sheer brutality of the enemy's siege tactics.
The scent of anxious sweat filled the air, the stench of blood was already rising even though the battle had yet to truly begin, and the sound of metal grinding against metal rang through the chaos. True pain had yet to come, but despair was already at its peak.
"Step aside."
At that moment, a young girl stepped up onto the fortress wall.
"Midiam, we can't…"
Ishmael wanted to stop her.
The Herald Clan was a persecuted people. Revealing their identity here would do them no favors. Even if these civilians were slaughtered, there was no reason for them to interfere.
But at some point, Midiam had changed. Ever since she had met that hateful man, she had begun to protect the Hubris people.
"It is beautiful to protect the people."
All because of a single sentence from Azadin.
"Arrows."
Midiam requested an arrow from Ishmael and pulled back her bowstring atop the fortress wall.