A force of about two hundred soldiers had gathered in front of the fortress. Having seemingly completed their pillaging of the nearby villages, they now stood surrounded by an immense amount of loot and a wretched sight—the common folk bound with ropes, being dragged along.
With that much plunder, discipline should have already crumbled, turning them into nothing more than a band of raiders, yet, surprisingly, the count's army remained orderly even in this situation.
Just by looking at the state of the soldiers, it was clear that Count Garnahair was no ordinary man. The soldiers were all shouting in unison, repeating the words of the sergeant, urging the people inside the fortress to negotiate with the count.
A flag was hoisted on the fortress, and two knights, along with a herald, stepped forward. Azadin, Zebeck, and the fortress garrison commander, a brass knight, had come out to negotiate.
Garnahair, too, brought along a knight and a herald as he approached Azadin's group.
"I am Count Garnahair. Which of you holds the authority here?"
Garnahair was a middle-aged man with silver hair, though his face appeared youthful. Perhaps due to the strong blood of the Yaegas Divine Clan running through his veins, he exuded an air of refined vigor, his eyes radiating an eerie glow as if they emitted light on their own.
His very presence was so overwhelming that ordinary people would feel fear just from looking at him. If a man like him, clad in silver armor, were to wander the countryside, the village boys would surely mistake him for an angel.
'And yet, such a man commits the slaughter of civilians.'
Azadin sighed and stepped forward to face Garnahair.
"That would be me."
"Unusual. A herald, aren't you originally a wanderer? And yet, you are the one deciding on negotiations?"
"I am a specialist. The count himself has brought a herald for the negotiations, hasn't he?"
"..."
Garnahair fell silent, momentarily at a loss for words.
"More importantly… You're Nefti, aren't you?"
Azadin's gaze turned to the woman standing beside Garnahair. She was Nefti, ranked 75th among the heralds.
Though the ranking of heralds was just a number, being ranked 75th still indicated considerable skill. Nefti, in particular, was a woman who had proven her worth among the heralds without any noble lineage backing her.
She was three years his senior, and now, she was looking at Azadin with an intrigued expression.
"You know of me, Azadin?"
"Yes. You're more famous than Kahsan, after all, 75th."
"Indeed. So, you really did defeat Kahsan?"
"Did he tell you that himself?"
"He did. It's quite the accomplishment. Losing to you would have stained his honor, yet instead of hiding it, he prioritized the benefit of the organization. A rather endearing fellow, don't you think?"
"That statement stirs quite complicated emotions within me."
Admitting defeat to Azadin alone was already humiliating, and the way she phrased it made it sound even more insulting.
"Of course, I apologize for looking down on you, Azadin. That said, why not join us? Lady Arael has ordered that you be brought in. Until now, everyone opposed it, thinking you were incompetent, but if you've bested Kahsan, that changes things. You'd be welcomed."
"For now, I believe negotiating with the count takes priority. We will open the fortress gates, but in return, I ask that you guarantee the safety of the people inside. Additionally, I request permission to take the surviving villagers and retreat."
"The villagers as well? That's quite the demand for the price of opening the gates."
"I am not asking for wealth. We opened the gates, so we must have justification for it, no? If we claim we did so to save the people, it serves as a proper pretext. Furthermore, the count has no need to sully his name unnecessarily, making this a mutually beneficial deal, wouldn't you agree?"
At Azadin's words, Garnahair scowled.
"You dare insult me?"
"Pardon?"
"Speaking of notoriety—are you not accusing me of slaughtering the people? How dare you rebuke me to my face? Such insolence!"
"That was not my intention. I apologize if it came across that way."
"First, remove your mask. It is unseemly to wear one at a negotiation."
"I wear it because my appearance is rather unsightly, but… very well."
As Azadin removed his mask, Count Lantarik visibly flinched at the sight.
"Your eyes…."
"I merely concealed them because they are unpleasant to look at."
"Hmph. Regardless, I will not hand over the villagers. You may open the fortress gates and leave without touching anything. It wouldn't take long for me to capture this fortress anyway. Oh, and one more thing…"
"Yes?"
"There is an old man among you named Brand. He was once employed as a scribe in my mansion, but he committed embezzlement and theft. I want him returned to me."
"You mean mister Brand?"
"Yes. If you do not surrender him, I will not accept your surrender."
"Hm. Is it truly necessary for the count to personally intervene over a frail old man?"
"He stole something precious from me. Moreover, he has served me for a long time. If I let such a man go after his betrayal, it would be problematic should he spread absurd rumors that damage my reputation."
"I understand. So, to summarize, the count's demands are: open the fortress gates and leave, surrender Brand, and the villagers will not be released. You will, however, allow us to leave with our lives, correct?"
"That is correct."
Then, the garrison commander urged Azadin.
"Let's hand him over. If we just surrender the commoners outside the fortress and one scribe, we can all survive, can't we?"
"...."
To show weakness in the middle of negotiations—Azadin clicked his tongue at the garrison commander's words.
"Understood. Then, let's return to the fortress and take some time to discuss it."
"No, decide right here."
The count blocked Azadin from returning.
"If you don't open the gates quickly, it's no different from resisting to the end. Didn't you agree to negotiations because you planned to open the gates and beg for your lives? Then what's the problem? The lives of the commoners? Brand's life? Ah, is that it? Did Brand spout some strange nonsense about me?"
"He lost his mind. He said he was captured by bandits and was forced to eat his own children. That drove him insane."
"Is that so? Then he's even more worthless. Surely, you don't want all of you to be annihilated here just because of one senile old man? Decide here and now."
The count forcefully demanded that the decision be made on the spot.
"L-Let's just do as he says. We have no right to defy a great noble like the count…."
When the garrison commander once again displayed weakness at the negotiation table, Azadin casually swung his hand.
— Whack!
"Ugh?!"
The garrison commander collapsed unconscious, and Zebeck naturally stepped in to support him, as if he had already anticipated Azadin's move to silence him.
"Oh?"
The count's eyes narrowed as he watched a herald and a holy knight of the king's church act in perfect unison.
"It seems, Count, that you have yet to taste our defensive capabilities."
Azadin spoke with a smile.
"Your defensive capabilities?"
"Yes. You think capturing a fortress like this is as easy as pie, and that even if we surrender and open the gates, you wouldn't gain anything from it. Isn't that right?"
"That's correct."
"In that case, we must prove the value of the product we are selling. If we hold out inside the fortress and slowly wear down your forces, you might start to see the worth in sparing the lives of the commoners and that senile old scribe."
"Are you threatening me? Why go this far? This has nothing to do with you, does it?"
"Because I am the emperor's herald. My mission is to cherish the lives of the people and to listen to the voices of the wronged."
"Even though the emperor has been dead for centuries? Very well, then. I shall start executing the commoners I have captured immediately. If you refuse to negotiate, I will kill them. Reducing the population of Salasma's peasants would actually be quite beneficial to my strategy. So? If you truly value the lives of the people, what will you choose?"
"Hmm…."
Zebeck let out a faint groan as he listened.
Though a holy knight of the king's church, he was of lower noble birth and had never before encountered such madness.
When disputes arose among lower nobles over land, water, underground springs, or wells, commoners were thoroughly protected. Even if they were treated like livestock, there was at least a basic instinct to preserve them.
If the peasants died, crop yields would plummet. Among lower nobles, this was an obvious truth. But such logic did not apply to great nobles like Count Lantarik.
Since his domain was a large city with a constant influx of people, he could always replenish his population. He had the ability to train well-disciplined soldiers and could relocate his subjects to frontier villages for development.
A great noble like him could afford to sacrifice the commoners of another's land for strategic gains.
In other words, this man was genuinely capable of slaughtering them.
'He treats human lives as mere bargaining chips? Disgusting.'
As a holy knight of the king's church, Zebeck was sworn to uphold the light of the king's virtue and protect nobles of the Yaegas clan.
Yet, the words of Count Lantarik were nothing short of abhorrent and vile.
What would Azadin say in response?
"Oh, now that's an amusing threat. But you've already been massacring the commoners before now. Even if I open the gates, you'll still kill them, won't you? If you start executing people in front of the fortress just because I refuse to open the gates, you'll only tarnish your own reputation. Unless, of course, you've never cared about your reputation in the first place."
"Hmph. You think killing commoners will stain my reputation? You clearly don't understand. I am showing mercy."
Count Lantarik shamelessly declared.
Mercy? Killing was mercy? Even if one were to stretch the argument to its limits and consider that to be true, then what about Doneor—the man who had been influenced by the count? That monster had tortured humans in the most grotesque ways and forced family members to eat one another.
Where was the mercy in that?
"My terms remain unwavering. In exchange for opening the fortress gates, you will guarantee the safety of those commoners, your scribe Brand, the commoners' lives, and the lives of the soldiers defending this fortress. If you violate these conditions and start killing people before my eyes, I will simply take other measures. Because allowing you to hold the lives of these people in your hands is no different from sentencing them to death."
"I will execute the ones I've captured right now and then kill all of you as well. Are you still willing to go through with this?"
Instead of answering, Azadin put on his mask and looked at the herald standing beside him—75th-rank Nefti.
"Nefti, you are with Arael, aren't you? Just like Kahsan was?"
"That's right."
"Then why did you align yourself with such an imbecile?"
"What?!"
The count seethed with fury at Azadin's blatant insult.
"You insolent wretch!"
Count Lantarik, consumed by rage, drew his sword.