The Shadowed Legacy of the Soulless Messenger

“Tarki!”

“Um? What? Isn’t that Vinet?”

“Vinet?”

“She’s my half-sister.”

The woman, Vinet, had armor and weapons that matched Tarki’s equipment in quality. However, those that accompanied her, unlike those in Kozel’s or Tarki’s retinue, lacked armaments, with all of them carrying only one longsword and stiff leather armor.

They didn’t even have horses. While Vinet was riding a horse, the others walked with a cart behind them that looked obviously stolen from a farm.

‘How could half-siblings be that similar?’

Azadine was baffled as he looked at the two’s reunion.

“What happened, Tarki! What about the mercenaries who were with you?”

Another of the Count’s illegitimate children, Vinet, approached Tarki while riding her horse. Tarki was also on a horse, and they got close enough that their horses’ heads were within touching distance.

“Well, the thing is…”

“By any chance, Tarki, were you the one who crushed Kozel?”

“Huh? What do you mean ‘crushed Kozel’?”

“Didn’t you hear? Kozel lost all of his subordinates, and apparently, his ‘thing’ got chopped off. Everyone’s going wild over it.”

“What? That’s real! Oh, yeah~!”

Tarki was happy to hear this. If the son from the legal wife, Kozel, was castrated, the right of inheritance would naturally be transferred to the next in line, who was physically capable. This meant that Tarki would become the heir.

“Ah, as they say, if you live righteously, luck knocks on your door by itself. I lived righteously for so long, so the ancestors must’ve helped me.”

“…”

Azadine, who was listening to this conversation, could not control a snort of laughter.

‘Live righteously? These fuckers will spit out all sorts of nonsense just because they can open their mouths, huh?’

Vinet also laughed at that moment.

“By the way, where did all the mercenaries accompanying you go? They left you all alone?”

“Oh, that…”

Vinet pulled out her sword at that moment. She didn’t wait for Tarki’s reply and went for a quick draw of her sword to launch a surprise attack.

Tarki, caught completely off guard, was helpless at the sudden attack. But he then heard the sound of wind piercing through the air from behind him.

-Clang!

A small stone collided with the sword and sent its blade away. Azadine, wary of Vinet from the beginning, had thrown the rock to save Tarki.

‘No wonder she was getting needlessly close.’

People from the Messenger Clan were used to using their arrows sparingly. Azadine decided that these punks weren’t worth even a single arrow.

“Ugh!”

Tarki stepped back in shock.

“Vinet! You tried to kill me?”

“Well, I thought about it, and this is better than finding the Heavenly King’s Book of Truth, whose location is unknown.”

Vinet sneered at him.

“Damn it!”

Tarki drew out his sword as well.

“Guys, get them!”

Hearing her orders, Vinet’s subordinates rushed in.

Tarki was astonished because Vinet, who he was close to, had attacked him out of greed.

“Vinet! You’re making a mistake. Do you know who’s with me right now?”

Tarki said this and proudly turned to look at Azadine and his party. However, Azadine, Mediam, and Ismail simply watched him with their arms crossed.

“What are you doing, Brother! You gotta help me!”

Tarki, petrified in fear, stepped back as he faced the enemies’ swords coming at him.

“I want to see your skills.”

“Aren’t you being too mean?”

Having said that, Tarki was frazzled as he tried to block the aggressive attacks of Vinet and her men.

Dodging the attacks of four men and women on his own may seem like he was skilled at fighting. However, a logical, unbiased analysis made it clear their skills were below standard. Since they didn’t meet the standard, it was enough for Tarki to simply defend himself while riding his horse.

‘The soldiers that accompanied Kozel and Tarki were quite skilled. Well, even these guys were probably good enough to mess with normal people. Compared to the Aragasa, though, they were too weak.’

Azadine was doing an objective analysis. At that moment, however, a man rushed at Azadine. It seemed he thought to break Tarki’s focus by attacking Azadine, who was observing in the back.

Azadine simply took a light step back, and suddenly, a wide distance opened between them. He couldn’t even chase Azadine because of the large difference in speed.

“Mediam, Ismail. You guys give it a try. Don’t kill. Let’s check out your skills too.”

“Huh? Don’t kill? But the opponent’s coming at me with a real sword?”

“Can’t you manage that much?”

“Okay.”

Ismail moved forward and firmly drew his short sword.

“Th-these bastards…”

The man who had dashed in to attack Azadine shook in humiliation as he saw a young boy wielding a short sword at him. Ismail then proceeded to deal with the swings of the longsword using his short sword.

“Are you taking me as a joke, you punk?”

Enraged at Ismail’s blocks using his short sword, the man swung his longsword in a full-blown attack. However, this was all part of Ismail’s plan.

Ismail easily dodged the attack with a switch in his step. From positioning his right foot in the front, he freely and nimbly switched to his left foot, easily escaping the attack’s trajectory and counter-attacking on the side.

The boy had a weak physique and couldn’t knock out his opponent with a simple hit. He couldn’t use magic either since that would be risky. Instead, Ismail boldly chose to cut the man using his short blade in the inner part of his thigh, where the armor was the thinnest. It wasn’t a fatal wound, but it was an awkward injury that could lead to significant blood loss without treatment.

‘I’ve seen him before, but he’s quite skillful. This kid can become a messenger and perhaps more.’

Ismail had a large and agile build for a boy but did not possess Azadine’s extraordinary strength. This meant he could not knock his opponent out using a barehanded attack. That was why he decided to inflict an unusual injury instead.

The man wouldn’t die if he kept putting pressure on the wound using his hand, but continuing to fight would be impossible that way. Alternatively, he could ignore it and continue fighting, but the wound was deep enough that it could lead to massive blood loss.

Ismail saw that he could take advantage of this. The boy was quick and knowledgeable about human anatomy. He was also cold-hearted and had a cool-headed personality.

“Impressive.”

Azadine honestly complimented Ismail and then looked at Mediam.

“Do I have to do it too?”

“Yeah. I want to see your non-magical skills too.”

Mediam had already showcased her strong magic, but what about other aspects of her skills?

“I understand. After all, Azadine, you’re not alone in that body anymore, so I…”

“What?”

“I mean, you’re ‘that’, right? If you’re subjected to the Curse of Service, then by now, in your belly…”

“…”

“Isn’t that why you’re making us fight?”

“No! Exactly what disgusting thoughts are you…”

At that moment, Tarki’s scream filled the air. Tarki had been trapped by his opponents’ attacks and fell off his horse.

It was an inevitable ending as his horse had been constantly pushed back while he defended. His opponents were rushing in aggressively with their attacks, so the horse was probably smart for stepping back by itself.

‘Is he an idiot?’

Tarki had the best horse and armor there. If he had simply pushed his way through, those poorly-equipped attackers wouldn’t be able to compete with him. But now that he has been thrown off his horse…

Azadine sighed and moved to intervene.

“That’s it for you now!”

“Who are you!”

The incensed men and women swung their longswords, but Azadine grabbed their blades with his bare hands. Thus began a power struggle between the one who held the blades and those who held the handles.

Just going by common sense, the ones who held the sword handles would have the advantage. Still, Azadine simply twisted the swords and smashed the holders into the ground.

“Ughk!”

“Argh!”

Those who had felt Azadine’s power quickly realized that their opponent had extraordinary strength. He possessed a level of precision and focus they were not a match for.

However, those who didn’t go directly against him saw Azadine, who didn’t even have a sword, as a joke.

“Oh, my?”

“Looks like this fucker learned a few tricks?”

“How cute, trying to prove you can handle a sword too, huh!”

“Do you know how much we spent on a master to teach us sword skills?”

They all charged at Azadine, but he systematically flung them to the ground and took away their weapons. By the end, they had all been planted upside down into the ground.

“Ugh. Th-thank you. As expected of Brother.”

Tarki got up and thanked Azadine.

“Don’t say stuff like that. I’m worried people will think we’re close to each other.”

“Haven’t we gotten pretty close, though?”

“No, just… keep your act straight, for god’s sake.”

Azadine was sick of these bastard noble children who habitually looted the populace.

‘What sort of lives do these punks live for them to be like this!?’

Azadine may be one of the Messenger Clan who was persecuted as soulless blasphemers by the whole world. Yet, even he did not want to become entangled with these people who lived such a terrible way of life.

“Damn it. Who is this guy!?”

In a fit of rage, Vinet rushed her horse forward without hesitation to trample over Tarki and Azadine.

‘She’s better than Tarki, at least in terms of tactics, I guess? But…’

Azadine dodged the horse’s forward dash with ease and firmly grabbed Vinet’s legs. Vinet swung her sword at Azadine, but he simply removed her foot from the spur strap and pulled it straight, dodging the sword aimed at him. As expected, Vinet was thrown off her horse.

“Ack!”

As she fell, she had perhaps fallen awkwardly on her crotch as she screamed in pain.

“Ah…. pe-pelvis! My pelvis…”

Azadine overpowered Vinet’s party and traced them back from where they had come. He soon saw a crying farmer who they had stolen the cart from.

Seeing the heap of hay lying haphazardly on the path, it seemed that those people had confiscated a cart used to transport hay, thrown the hay out, and then loaded it with their loot.

“I’ll return the cart, so try to return as many of the looted items as possible.”

When Azadine said that, the farmer kept bowing his head to him.

“Thank you! Really thank you. Excuse me, your name…”

“The legal heir of Count Casel, Tarki!”

“…”

Azadine glared at Tarki, who had cut in front of him.

“Enough of that. Oi, you. Load the hay back onto the cart.”

“Huh? Us?”

“Of course, you’ll do it. Or do you think I should? Oh my, what’s with these punks? What do you bastards think you are?”

Azadine asked Vinet, the illegitimate child, and she replied with a groan.

“Urgh. They’re my friends.”

“Friends?”

“Excellent adventurers.”

“Excellent?”

Apparently, Vinet was a self-proclaimed adventurer who loafed around with a gang of similar-minded bastards. They spent their days simply chatting and lying about.

She had taken to wandering after being lured by the Count’s declaration that he would allow the finder of the Heavenly King’s Book of Truth to become Head of the Family. However, she had quit the search and instead feverishly fell into looting. During this, she had heard the news that Kozel was now disqualified and had gone to look for Tarki.

‘They’re thoughtless, immature kids. I’ve nothing to say. To make it worse, while people are struggling with the drought, punks like these are going around looking for the Heavenly Book. Does that even make sense?’

Azadine questioned a few of the self-proclaimed adventurers and found that they weren’t even at the level of nobility. They were children of wealthy families who worked as clerks, engineers, lawyers, and so forth. They liked playing around and had gone with Vinet for easy loot and coins.

“Great! If you don’t load that heap of hay, I’ll remove all of your armaments and tie you up to that tree over there. Without your pants, that is.”

Vinet and her party turned pale at Azadine’s threat.