He had already gained plenty of gold coins. Since he had already obtained three, he could brag about it to shut this guy up, but Azadin held back.
"More than that, won't you at least serve some tea? If you don't, other travelers might find it strange."
"Tea, you say? Ah, of course, I should serve you."
The peddler grumbled as he brewed and served the tea.
"Do you have any snacks?"
"Yes, these are cookies made from sugar mugwort. Ah, dear, I won't even be getting money from you, Herald, and yet you're taking such fine goods."
Although the tea shop peddler was reluctant, he still handed over the snacks. The cookies were made by kneading sugar mugwort, a herb with both a bitter and sweet taste, into the dough. Azadin distributed them to his companions and, while seated, asked,
"So, what's the mission?"
"Up ahead, the Knights of Salvation are conducting relief work. They're setting up a camp for the refugees and distributing food to them."
"They're doing good work. You're not telling me to kill those Knights of Salvation, are you?"
"No, that's not it. The problem is that while they claim to help the poor, they are forcing merchants to make donations."
"Hmm, well, that much is to be expected."
Azadin didn't think much of it. It seemed reasonable that the Knights of Salvation would forcibly take donations from the wealthy for the sake of the refugees.
'The relief activities of the Knights of Salvation are like those of righteous bandits—convincing when spoken of, but in the end, they end up taking more for themselves. Azadin has always been lenient toward others, but he seems especially generous toward the Knights of Salvation. Could it be that his faith in the Archangel is making him biased?'
Midiam harbored such suspicions.
The tea merchant, an informant of the Herald clan, continued speaking.
"So, the merchants are gathering ahead to take a detour off the main road, but recently, wyverns have been appearing in that area."
"Wyverns?"
"Yes. In addition, refugees who fled due to the drought have turned into bandits and have begun to appear... and those Knights of Salvation seem to be searching for a copy of the Book of the Divine King as well."
"So, what's the mission?"
"The task is to take down the wyverns and the bandit groups along the detour route... Will you take it? Or will you refuse again this time?"
"That much, I should do."
"Oh, that's unexpected. What's gotten into you all of a sudden?"
"It's not an assassination but a task to help people."
"Haha."
The tea merchant let out a strange laugh. What Azadin was implying was clear—he was subtly criticizing the other requests of the merchant guild as mere assassinations or self-serving tasks.
Of course, despite being nothing more than a servant within the hierarchy of the Herald clan, the tea merchant had been subtly provoking Azadin, a Herald, all along. But the merchant was of a higher rank. Since Azadin had failed the basic training and selection process, the merchant did not recognize him as a true Herald. In fact, he felt insulted by Azadin's words.
At that moment, Midiam spoke up.
"Hey, Azadin, I can't stand it anymore. May I?"
Azadin nodded at her words.
What was that? The tea merchant was puzzled.
—Sreung!
Midiam drew her sword and aimed it at the merchant's throat.
"What?!"
Azadin, in the midst of this, sipped his tea calmly.
"How dare a mere servant act arrogantly toward a Herald? You've been nitpicking at every little thing, haven't you?"
"A-Ah, no…"
"Show respect to a Herald. If not…"
Midiam pressed the blade against the tea merchant's throat as if she was about to drive it in. The merchant, in an attempt to avoid having his throat pierced, had to lean back so far that he was practically lying down.
"Enough."
Azadin stopped Midiam.
"Midiam, you may be an Aether and performing the duties of an attendant, but your opponent is of a higher rank than you. While bloodline and position matter, our clan also values the tradition of respecting one's elders. Keeping that in mind, unless you intend to kill him, put your sword away."
"Understood."
Midiam wiped the blade clean, twirled it gracefully, and then sheathed it in one swift motion before kneeling before Azadin.
Being a proud member of the Aether bloodline, she deliberately displayed excessive courtesy before Azadin to show her respect. Naturally, this was meant for the tea merchant to see.
"...."
The tea merchant, seeing Midiam bowing so politely at a single word from Azadin, was taken aback.
"My apologies. You served us such fine tea, yet we showed you such an unpleasant sight."
Azadin was not oblivious. He knew exactly why Midiam had suddenly drawn her sword to intimidate the tea merchant. With an air of indifference, he took another sip of his tea and apologized.
"N-No, it's fine."
The tea merchant, rubbing the wound on his neck, wore a sour expression. Since Azadin, the Emperor's Herald, had apologized on behalf of his servant's rudeness, the merchant, as a mere servant, had no choice but to accept it. However, his emotions were still hurt. He couldn't even complain, as, by principle, Azadin was in the right.
The one who inflicted the wound and the one who apologized were different, yet they were both on the same side.
***
After parting ways with the tea merchant and crossing a ridge where he was no longer in sight, Azadin called for Midiam.
"Midiam."
"Yes?"
"First of all, thank you."
"Hehe, don't mention it. Now that I am your servant, those who disrespect you are also disrespecting me. Besides, the Korasar peddlers' guild belongs to the Savan family, doesn't it?"
The Savan family was one of the founding five families of the Herald clan and had long been rivals with the Aether family. For various reasons, Midiam had taken this opportunity to make a clear statement.
"So, I do appreciate it, but don't go out of your way to insult those who have deep ties to the Savan family. Things could get complicated. I've heard rumors that my predecessor was purged after offending them."
"Those bastards would do such a thing, no doubt."
Midiam spoke with little concern, showing no real fear of the Savan family. Perhaps it was because she was still young and overflowing with confidence.
"But the Herald clan really is a vast organization with many members. That tea merchant, was he part of the Herald clan too?"
Tarkiev asked curiously, to which Azadin clicked his tongue.
"Don't be too eager to know. As you're aware, we can't afford to expose too much of the organization."
"But still, they seem highly capable and powerful. If they were to help me, becoming a Count…"
"...."
"A-Ah, forget it. I said nothing."
Tarkiev shut his mouth under Azadin's gaze, though he still seemed somewhat regretful.
Looking at Azadin's skills and the power of the Herald clan, it was hard not to feel greed.
If they fully supported him, inheriting the title of Count would be no issue at all.
It was obvious what he was thinking, and Azadin let out a sigh.
"You actually believe they'll let you inherit the title of Count? Are you an idiot?"
"Huh?"
"Count Kazel is still young. He won't want to solidify the succession so rigidly at such an early age. Even for you, isn't your mother from a wealthy and influential family?"
Otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to hand her son the Emperor's gold coin and hire a mercenary company.
"Yes."
"The Count is shaking up the household leadership, so everyone is bringing in their dowry wealth and doing whatever the family head wants. Do you think he'd use such a tempting bait just once and be done with it? He's not some dying old man. He'll keep using it over and over. By then, any new children he's had in the meantime will also be gathered up, fighting amongst themselves."
"But that doesn't mean I can just do nothing and give up, does it?"
"Why not just give up already? Instead of running around pretending to be knights and plundering people, wouldn't it be easier on your body and mind to just wait in the Count's court?"
"Staying in court isn't all that peaceful either."
"But if you and your kind roam around with your rotten personalities, the other residents suffer. If staying in the castle makes you uncomfortable, why not just give up on this life and hope for a better afterlife? The Hubris people, unlike us Aragasa, claim to have souls, so isn't an afterlife guaranteed for you?"
"How could you say something so cruel…?"
"You should be grateful that I'm keeping it to mere words! The civilians you pillage might starve to death. Ah, there, that inn! That must be the one the tea merchant mentioned."
Azadin, who had been relentlessly scolding Tarkiev, suddenly spotted an inn ahead. At a glance, it was a place where trade caravans and adventurers gathered.
Among those at the inn, two individuals—a man and a woman—recognized them and approached. They had healthy-looking dark skin.
"Tarkiev hyung-nim!"
"Tarkiev, is that you?"
"You guys?"
Tarkiev recognized them and, surprised, turned to Azadin.
"Who are they?"
"They are my half-siblings."
"Competitors?"
Azadin's question carried an underlying meaning—'Are they also idiots like you, wasting their mother's wealth because they blindly believe in the empty promises the Count keeps handing out?'
"Not exactly, they are members of the Cell Sword Guild."
The Cell Sword Guild was essentially a mercenary or adventurer's association. It meant that, at a young age, they had already given up on competing for the household head position and had chosen the life of mercenaries or adventurers instead.
It was unclear whether they had a keen sense of reality or had simply given up due to a lack of support from their maternal family. Unlike Tarkiev, who flaunted his noble status, they were dressed in lightweight leather armor and armed with swords, bows, and spears.
"Hello, hyung-nim. And these people are…?"
"Ah, they are…"
Azadin stepped forward to answer instead.
"We are pilgrims. Fortunately, Sir Tarkiev has been graciously escorting us, for which we are deeply thankful."
"What? Hyung-nim, escorting pilgrims?"
"What about the mercenaries?"
"Oh, those mercenaries? They betrayed me."
"They betrayed you?"
"They weren't listening, so we just parted ways."
That was Tarkiev's excuse. The mercenaries he had hired had sworn allegiance to the Kurt Divine Clan and laid waste to the eastern relay town. Claiming that he had separated from them before that happened was probably the best way to reduce his own responsibility.
"If they betrayed you, are you all right?"
Typically, when mercenaries betray their employer, they kill them. If that had been the case, Tarkiev wouldn't have survived.
"Well, they just left me because the conditions didn't suit them. So maybe 'betrayal' isn't the right word after all."
"I-I see? Ah, I am Kaka."
"And I'm Chico."
The two siblings introduced themselves to Azadin's group.
"I am Azadin. This is Midiam and Ishmael."
Azadin did not use an alias and introduced himself by his real name.
"So, what are you two doing here?"
"Ah, we're doing Cell Sword's word."
"The merchants here said a wyvern had appeared and asked us to hunt it down."
"A wyvern? You're not here looking for a copy of the Book of the Divine King?"
"We have no idea where that supposed copy is supposed to be."
"Wouldn't you eventually hear rumors about it while traveling for work?"
"Are you planning to find it and aim for the Count's title?"
"As if. Our mother isn't that interested in us… and we don't have the backing to aim for the title of Count anyway."
"If we do find a copy of the Book of the Divine King, we'll just sell it. It'd be nice if you bought it. Tarkiev would be much better than Kozel."
Hearing that, Azadin let out a small laugh.