"Midiam!"
Ishmael grabbed the flagpole and caught Midiam, who was about to plunge off the wall.
"Argh!?"
"Ugh!"
The moment Ishmael and Midiam grasped each other's hands, they both felt a sharp pain. Kahsan had thrown them with such force that it felt like their arms would be torn off.
"Ugh! Ah, no!"
Ishmael couldn't hold onto Midiam's body because of the pain in his arm. Even though he knew Kahsan was waiting, he had no choice but to return to the top of the wall.
As soon as they landed, Kahsan was waiting for them. He effortlessly swung both forearms, striking the necks of Midiam and Ishmael.
"Guh!"
"Kyaa!"
Ishmael and Midiam collapsed onto the ground.
"Haha, impressive. For mere servants of Azadin, your skills are too good, aren't they? As expected of Aether. If you had reached adulthood, you would have defeated me. But right now, you're just too young."
After subduing Ishmael and Midiam, Kahsan shrugged his shoulders.
"It's such a waste to leave talents like you with a half-wit like Azadin. How about becoming my servants instead?"
At that moment, a soft chuckle came from behind Kahsan.
"You attack servants, and now you're acting like you're offering something noble?"
"Hm?"
Kahsan turned around in surprise to find another herald standing on the fortress. Azadin had arrived unnoticed.
"Azadin!"
"Sorry, I was watching."
"...!"
If what Azadin said was true, that meant he had calmly observed the entire battle between Kahsan, Midiam, and Ishmael.
Yet, Kahsan had failed to notice Azadin's approach. What would have happened if this had been an actual ambush?
'Well, that's just boasting.'
Azadin had indeed watched, but only because he was making his way up to the fortress. It wasn't as if he had deliberately stayed silent to evaluate Kahsan's skills. After all, he couldn't just stand by while Midiam and Ishmael were being thrown off the fortress, could he?
"Haa."
Standing beside Azadin was a knight. He was still a holy knight, and using his status, he had managed to pass through the Lantarik forces and act as a negotiator to enter the fortress.
"Azadin, it's been a long time. I saw you when you were just a little kid, but you've grown a lot."
"Excuse me, but who are you?"
"It's Kahsan. I'm from two years ahead of you! Don't tell me you've forgotten? Kahsan the Bow Breaker!"
"The one who cried his eyes out after getting beaten by Arael?"
"You bastard, how dare you mock me!"
Kahsan was furious at Azadin's words but quickly regained his composure.
"More importantly, who's that next to you? He looks like a holy knight from the King's Church."
"You have a lot of bows. Mind lending me one?"
Azadin's eyes were fixed on the four bows Kahsan carried. Since his own bow had been broken, he needed a replacement, and there just happened to be bows right in front of him.
"My question comes first. What are you up to, Azadin? I'm two years your senior. Do you think it's funny to ignore a senior's words?"
"To be honest, it is a little funny. You mercilessly ambushed children, after all."
"This bastard."
"Why did you side with Lantarik? I never heard anything about that. What kind of deal did you make?"
"You answer first. I'm not talking to you until you do."
Kahsan wasn't an idiot. A herald needed to be skilled not just in combat but also in tactics and strategy.
Azadin realized he couldn't keep playing word games.
"This man is my collaborator. He's helping me expose Sir Zekt's corruption."
"In exchange for what? Gold?"
"No, justice."
"Justice?"
"The true duty of the Emperor's herald—listening to the pleas of the wronged and bringing justice to this land."
"Ah… Hahaha. You've lost your mind, Azadin. Saying something so embarrassing with a straight face."
"The one who should be embarrassed is you, not me. I serve as the Emperor's herald because I believe in its honor, but you're just a lapdog doing it out of necessity. Living like a hound, obeying orders just because you're told to—doesn't that feel pathetic?"
"Don't be ridiculous! I do this of my own will. Do you think I could have passed that brutal selection process otherwise?"
"And yet, isn't it just for selfish gain? Even a hound works hard when it's thrown a bone."
"Grr. You sure talk a lot."
Kahsan cracked his neck and shook his hands with a grin.
"Lady Arael ordered me to bring you back alive, but I really don't feel like it. I can't stand the thought of a failure like you getting a position just because you're Lady Arael's brother. I'll kill you right here."
"So, you're with Arael, after all."
Hearing that, Azadin placed his hand on his sword hilt. But before he could act, Zebeck stepped forward to block him.
"You are in no condition to fight right now."
Having treated Azadin, Zebeck knew that his wounds wouldn't allow him to fight properly. Although he had stitched the wounds together, fighting again would likely make them worse. In this era, even a fingernail-sized wound could lead to infection and death.
"What? You're sending a holy knight to fight in your place? Impressive. How did you win him over?"
Kahsan looked at Zebeck, who seemed prepared to fight in Azadin's stead, with a bewildered expression.
"When one's will is strong, they naturally find comrades who share it. But I don't expect a livestock creature that wags its tail for mere feed to understand that."
"You bastard! I, too, follow the will of Lady Arael…."
At that moment, Azadin moved.
Kahsan was surprised by Azadin's sudden attack, but after seeing how slow, clumsy, and weak it was, he smirked.
'They call him the disgrace of the herald clan, and it shows! With such pathetic skills….'
Kahsan didn't even bother drawing his sword. Instead, he raised his hand to strike Azadin's blade aside. But in the next moment, Azadin let go of his sword and seized Kahsan's wrist.
"…Huh?"
Kahsan was caught off guard by Azadin's sudden precision and overwhelming strength. More than anything, the moment they made contact, a surge of rampant mana flowed from Azadin, piercing through Kahsan's body.
Azadin stepped past Kahsan, lifted his massive frame, and threw him off the fortress.
"W-Wait!"
Kahsan, like Ishmael before him, tried to grab the flag, but Azadin drew a dagger from his belt and hurled it at him. The flying dagger carried such force that it seemed capable of piercing even a cow's skull.
"Ugh!"
Kahsan had no choice but to let go of the flag and fall beneath the fortress.
"Just you wait!"
While in midair, Kahsan cast the Beauty of Nature spell to slow his descent, and upon landing, he rolled across the ground to absorb as much impact as possible. However, judging by how he struggled to get up properly, it was clear that he hadn't escaped unscathed.
"Ishmael, shoot."
"Yes!"
As Ishmael fired an arrow, Kahsan cursed and began fleeing to avoid it.
"Wow, that was amazing, Azadin!"
Midiam ran toward him with excitement, but Azadin was sweating profusely.
"…Huh?"
"I told you not to overdo it. You broke your ribs, and yet you're exerting yourself."
Zebeck clicked his tongue at Azadin's recklessness. In Hubris, people could fall ill and die just from tripping and scraping their knees. Let alone fractures and external wounds—death from infection was all too common.
"The herald clan underestimates me, so I can easily win once."
"Your entire clan underestimates you? I don't understand. Didn't you fight Judge Zekt on equal footing? Even among the heralds, there aren't many who could do that."
"I was a bit of a failure when I was younger. A lot of people still remember me that way, so they look down on me. Thanks to that, I was able to grab some bows quickly."
Azadin now held two Moon Horn Bows in his hands. While lifting Kahsan, he had snatched the Moon Horn Bow from his thigh.
"But that trick won't work anymore. So, here's the thing."
Azadin turned to look at the fortress commander.
"Uh, you mean me?"
The fortress commander flinched under his gaze.
"We need to talk."
Azadin gestured with his finger, leading the fortress commander into the soldiers' barracks, away from prying ears.
***
"To be blunt, hand over the fortress and negotiate peace."
"What? If I do that, Count Salasma will have us flayed alive."
"Count Salasma is already dead. There's no one left to punish you."
"But won't the next Count Salasma punish us later?"
"Hmph. You Hubris people really don't know much, do you? Think about it. Why did Count Lantarik suddenly invade this place?"
"Uh, well… I don't know?"
"Because Count Salasma's legitimate heir lost his ability to reproduce and lost his claim to inheritance. From Count Lantarik's perspective, he went through all the trouble of arranging a political marriage, only for Salasma's inheritance to slip away. So, this is a show of force. On a large scale, he wants to have his daughter inherit the land. On a smaller scale, he at least wants to take control of the Kora River basin. Even if someone else becomes Count, controlling the waterway will give him an advantage in future power struggles."
Zebeck, listening, was impressed.
'Incredible. His political insight is sharp. These days, even holy knights don't study the Laws of the Eight Kings, but perhaps it's because he's the emperor's herald?'
"So, if we hand this fortress over to Count Lantarik, what happens to us? Won't the next Count Salasma want us dead?"
"Set the people free and switch sides to Count Lantarik. That way, there will be less bloodshed. Count Lantarik plans to massacre the locals, erase the villages in the area, and replace them with his own people. That way, he can claim the land as his own, and even the King's Church will have to recognize it. But if the knights and sergeants who originally ruled this land surrender to Count Lantarik, he won't need to slaughter the people. He'll have a legitimate claim to the land."
"You, you're telling us to switch masters?"
The fortress commander hesitated. As a landed knight, betraying one's lord would stain his family with dishonor for generations.
"Count Lantarik will treat you well. And you'd be taking a bit of dishonor upon yourself to save the people—that's something a true hero would do, isn't it? The high nobles might complain, but the people here will understand and see your decision as noble. If you want, I can even compose a song about it. 'The knight who bore disgrace to save his people'—doesn't that sound like a popular ballad?"
"This is the only way for you to survive. Do you really think the late Count Salasma will rise from the dead and save you?"
Ishmael added his own remark.
"S-Surely… If we fight, we'll just die in vain. Surrendering under these conditions might actually be the honorable choice."
Azadin's words seemed to sway the fortress commander.
"Yes, if we open the gates before the siege breaks through, they'll spare us—it's the natural duty of warriors! We're saved!"
The soldiers also seemed relieved.
'But will it really go that way?'
Midiam recalled Count Lantarik's terrifying reputation and remained doubtful.
'Oh well. Let them enjoy their optimism.'
Just then, the sound of a war horn echoed from outside. Moments later, the voices of numerous soldiers called out in unison.
"I am Count Lantarik, Garnahair! Herald Clan members! Answer my call for negotiations!"
Count Lantarik, Garnahair, had made the first move for negotiations.