"Huh?!"
—Mistletoe!
The enemy had somehow already climbed onto his back.
"You bastard!"
He aimed at his opponent with his spider-like legs.
But… they couldn't reach.
"A spider can't scratch its own back."
With the herald's taunt, a flash of the blade gleamed.
—Thud!
The mercenary captain's head flew off. Tiny spiders poured out of the wound, trying to close it, but once the head was gone, it was futile.
The Herald Clan member, who had decapitated the mercenary captain in one strike, immediately leaned forward, crushing the opponent beneath him and covering the wound with his cloak.
—Thud!
As he stomped down on the cloak, blood spurted out, soaking it.
"Ugh… uh."
Tarkiev was taken aback, watching the one who had ambushed and slain the seemingly formidable mercenary captain in an instant.
"Is this one the leader? Even after transforming into a spider, he hasn't lost his reason… He must be a follower of considerable rank."
Saying that, he turned his head to look at Tarkiev. Tarkiev, too, had not lost his reason. And he was the employer of the mercenary group—anyone would find that suspicious.
"Ah, w-wait a minute. I… uh…."
—Swish!
The sword that had just decapitated the mercenary captain now aimed at Tarkiev.
"Wait, aren't you a herald? Then you can't kill me! Because… look at this!"
In desperation, Tarkiev pulled out a necklace from his clothes and shook it. A small leather pouch dangled from it.
"Ah, this won't do, you can't see it. H-hold on."
Tarkiev pulled something out from inside.
Gold coins.
"...."
The herald paused.
"Yes, just as Mother said! The Herald Clan can be controlled with the emperor's gold coins!"
"Even if you have three bushels of gold coins, if you do not make a petition, it's meaningless."
"Ah, damn it! Fine!"
Grumbling, Tarkiev threw the gold coins into a nearby engraved triangle. The coins disappeared, and a golden light illuminated the triangular symbol.
The approaching herald sighed and lowered his sword.
"So, how about now? I'm your employer now, right?"
"The correct term is not employment, but petition. So, what is your petition?"
"I'm infected with that spider thing, save me!"
"...."
The herald sighed deeply.
"Ah, this is a mess…."
[That petition is accepted.]
The emperor's voice announced the acceptance of the petition.
***
Azadin let out a deep sigh.
"Why do we have to accept trash like this as a petitioner?"
"Trash? That's a bit much."
Tarkiev, who had been listening, protested, but when Azadin glared at him, he shut his mouth.
"Where did you get the gold coins?"
"My mother gave them to me."
"And the mercenary group?"
"My mother had me hire them…."
Tarkiev was an illegitimate child, but his mother came from a wealthy family.
She had promised to make him the head of the household if he retrieved a copy of the Book of the Divine King. So she had used her in-laws' money to let Tarkiev hire a mercenary group and even acquired the emperor's gold coins to give him.
"And yet the guy who was gleefully pillaging a village keeps going on about 'Mother, Mother'? What a brat."
"What? You bastard, that's no way to talk to your employer…."
—Swish!
Azadin's blade brushed right past Tarkiev's nose.
"Ugh?!"
He felt the faint sensation of his peach fuzz being cut. It was literally a paper-thin margin—if he had moved even slightly, his head would have been lopped off.
"Just because you paid with gold coins doesn't mean you get to treat me like a servant. The emperor's petition isn't about hiring slaves in exchange for gold. It's about seeking the enforcement of the law."
"Th-then do something about it!"
"Before that, can't you use magic?"
"No."
"Your half-brother, Kozel, at least managed to make things shine a little."
"You know Kozel?"
"Anyway. Even if you've fallen into disgrace, if you're of the Eight Divine Kings' lineage, you should at least be able to use some magic. Damn it."
Azadin twisted his body in frustration, then turned to the girl following behind him.
"Midiam."
"Yes?"
"Thunderclap, just a weak one. Please."
"Uh, me?"
"Yes, I'm asking you."
Even though Azadin had asked Tarkiev if he could use magic, he himself could not.
'I do have some trump cards, but… it'd be difficult to only kill the spiders without harming people.'
That was why he asked Midiam. But she hesitated.
"Well, as a clan member in this foreign land, of course, I can help you. But I think it's a bit too much that I'm assisting with a gold coin contract yet being refused as a servant, don't you think?"
"...."
As expected, when Midiam pointed that out, Azadin was at a loss for words.
"R-right?"
"Wouldn't it be about time you acknowledge me as your servant? Well, regardless of that, I'll still use Thunderclap for you."
Midiam knew how to strike at one's conscience.
If she had said, If you don't acknowledge me as a servant, I won't use Thunderclap, Azadin would surely have found another solution.
But instead, she was saying, Whether you acknowledge me as a servant or not, I'll still use Thunderclap. But it would be nice if you did.
Rejecting such a request would be too much, wouldn't it?
"Ah, come on. What do you even expect to do as my servant? Fine, I accept you as my servant."
"Oh, th-thank you! I'll do my best!"
Midiam excitedly cast Thunderclap.
***
"Ugh."
Ishmael groaned. Every single word and action Midiam directed at Azadin was tearing his heart apart.
Perhaps it was nothing significant, but until now, Midiam had never shown such interest in any of her peers.
Midiam had always been that way. She had no interest in those around her, and her eyes were always set on the outside world.
That was why Ishmael had admired her.
People called Arael the greatest genius of their clan, but she was so far ahead that he had never even seen her in person. Meanwhile, Midiam was beautiful, bold, and talented, and above all, as a member of the Aether bloodline, she had significant influence within the clan.
As a child, Ishmael had even once jumped off a waterfall to get Midiam's attention. Yet she had remained indifferent.
But now, that very same Midiam was practically forcing herself on Azadin. Watching that scene made Ishmael feel like his entire world was crumbling.
"What's wrong with him now?"
Azadin sighed, seeing that Ishmael was acting strange too.
***
"Kuaaaagh!"
Tarkiev screamed and collapsed as Midiam's Thunderclap struck him directly. All over his body, spiders died, and pus oozed out.
As expected, Thunderclap completely wiped out the parasitic spiders within his body. It also inflicted some damage on him, but it was far better than being tortured by the spiders.
"Phew. Controlling the power so as not to kill him was quite difficult. But still, mission accomplished. This should be enough, right?"
Midiam said to Azadin, then suddenly staggered and collapsed forward. Startled, Azadin caught her.
"Are you okay? I'm sorry. I must have pushed you too hard."
"N-no. I'll be fine after some rest. The daughter of Aether isn't that weak."
Midiam gave a bright smile and lay back.
"Now that the petition is complete, shall we kill him?"
Ishmael asked, irritation evident in his voice, likely because Midiam was acting too familiar with Azadin.
"W-what? Urgh?!"
Tarkiev, startled, tried to move, but his body was still paralyzed by the lingering effects of Thunderclap. In this state, he was completely helpless, unable to fight back even if a child tried to kill him.
And considering the magic that the young girl had just cast… even if he were in full health, he wouldn't stand a chance.
'They're unbelievable. I can't even compare. So this is what the Divine King Slayers clan is capable of…'
Even the man who had effortlessly taken down the mercenary captain he had struggled with was extraordinary. Tarkiev realized that he had no means to resist them.
"Ishmael, don't say unnecessary things."
"We fulfilled his petition. So now we can take his life, can't we?"
"No. Once someone becomes a petitioner, we serve them with all sincerity, even after the petition is complete. Killing them immediately after fulfilling their request wouldn't be sincere service. Besides, the emperor's voice draws vitality from petitioners."
Azadin dismissed Ishmael's request.
"But he's someone who violated imperial law and sacrificed innocent people."
"If that were all there was to it, no matter how much imperial gold he had, he wouldn't have been able to petition us. At the very least, it means he's not someone who will grossly violate the law in the future."
The petition through gold coins was not simply a magic spell. A petitioner had to have a genuine wish to make the petition.
Throwing a gold coin into the triangular sigil wasn't enough to activate the spell. The emperor's voice judged the petitioner's sincerity, goals, and circumstances before deciding whether to accept the contract.
Otherwise, if the holy knights of the king's church or the Inquisitors obtained the emperor's gold coins and set traps, the Herald Clan would face great danger.
Once someone became a petitioner, they inevitably became an ally of the Herald Clan.
'That's why I provoked him into making a petition, but I didn't think he'd actually become one.'
Azadin was displeased with Tarkiev, but since he had successfully petitioned, there was no justifiable reason to ignore his request.
'Well, thinking about it, this isn't bad. I've already earned two gold coins today.'
When the village was attacked, one of the original residents had made a petition with gold. But since he had died before Azadin arrived, the gold used for the petition was automatically transferred to Azadin.
Then, Tarkiev had made another petition, and Midiam had successfully saved him from the parasitic spiders with Thunderclap, making it a success.
Earning two imperial gold coins in a single day—this was an incredible feat.
'It's unfortunate that the petitioner who made the first request died in vain, but dealing with these guys here should make up for it. Still, this one… I really don't like him.'
Azadin looked at Tarkiev with distaste.
"W-wait a minute! Are you seriously going to kill me just because I looted some frontier settlers?"
Tarkiev, realizing that even Azadin, who had opposed Ishmael, disliked him, hurriedly tried to make excuses. But what came out of his mouth was utterly outrageous.
"What? What do you mean?"
"I mean, frontier settlers are lazy, incompetent, and ignorant fools, aren't they?"
Tarkiev blatantly expressed the noble class's prejudice against frontier settlers.
***
The residents of frontier settlements had to cultivate barren lands while constantly exposed to the dangers of monsters.
Lords who were truly invested in expanding their territories would lower taxes for these settlers and station troops to ensure their safety.
Because they endured greater hardships than others, they deserved consideration, even if their immediate returns were lower.
One day, when enough people settled in the frontier, when fields became fertile, and when the wild beasts and monsters were sufficiently driven out, the frontier would reach the same level of productivity as other cities, repaying the investment in full.
However, most lords failed to see this.
To them, frontier settlements were merely regions with low yields that made excessive demands—lazy peasants who contributed little.
They ignored the fact that these people were cultivating land that had never been farmland before, that they lived in isolated areas with little trade. Instead, they fixated on their lower production rates, dismissing and even despising them as slothful and useless.
This was not just the attitude of Count Kazel, the margrave. It was a widespread, misguided prejudice among many nobles.
This was also why Count Kazel had been so indifferent to the refugees fleeing the frontier due to drought.