Everyone was looking at Azadin when he suddenly let out a wailing cry.
"Huk… Uhuhuk. This is lamentable."
"...."
"What the? Is he drunk?"
"Everyone! This is exactly why people have fallen into corruption!"
The merchants and adventurers exchanged glances.
'This bastard is definitely drunk.'
'Who the hell gave him alcohol?'
They all rolled their eyes, looking for someone to take responsibility. Meanwhile, Azadin was passionately delivering his speech.
"The Archangel of Trinity vowed to grant the power of white magic to those who uphold the three virtues and sealed themselves within the Inland Sea Peninsula! But as people stray from virtue, the Salvation Knight Order are losing their strength! And now, with the Age of Jupiter approaching, the forces of darkness will regain their power, yet why is this world filled only with those who chase after pleasure and none who seek virtue?!"
"Wh-what is he even talking about?"
"Man, all I said was that I wanted to make some money and own a few slaves…."
"That's exactly it! Slaves, you say?! Slavery is illegal under both the Salvation Knight Order and the king's church! How can you utter such corrupt words?! Do you not realize that your depravity is hastening the Age of Jupiter?!"
"Ah, um…"
The other merchants were flustered as Azadin shouted, passionately preaching the faith of the Salvation Knight Order.
The so-called Age of Jupiter was an apocalyptic prophecy passed down within the Salvation Knight Order—one that beggars, vagrants, lunatics, and alcoholics loved to ramble about.
Of course, it was also a favorite topic of the zealots within the Salvation Knight Order, and Azadin, in his drunken stupor, was now spouting it.
"The Age of Jupiter is approaching! Embrace the three virtues! Abstain from pleasure, corruption, and prostitution!"
"But you're drinking alcohol yourself, aren't you?"
"W-well, we did give it to him, but still."
"It's fine! Abstinence from alcohol isn't one of the three virtues!"
As Azadin said this and reached for more alcohol, the merchants hurriedly stopped him.
"Whoa!"
"How is he so damn strong?"
"H-he's tall! And his frame is huge!"
The merchants barely managed to restrain Azadin.
"Alright, alright. We've got a long journey ahead tomorrow, so you should go rest!"
"Y-yeah, that's right."
"Ah, understood! I can walk on my own!"
Azadin pushed away the merchants who were trying to support him and made his way up to his room. Once inside, he pressed his palms together in prayer and controlled his breathing.
"Huuh…"
His flushed face gradually returned to normal, and his expression and gaze became steady again. He had deliberately controlled his heartbeat and flushed the capillaries in his face to mimic the appearance of a drunken man.
"As expected, everyone hates fanatics."
"Weren't they just annoyed because you were causing a drunken scene?"
Midiam, who had been lying on the bed, peeked his head out and asked.
"You were watching? Didn't sleep?"
"The whole inn was practically shaking. Of course, I was awake."
"Wouldn't having such a striking presence make it difficult for you to act as a herald?"
Ishmael, also apparently unable to sleep, chimed in.
"Whether they're really talking about the Herald Clan or just falsely accusing helpless commoners and enslaving them, it's disgusting either way. I want to slaughter them all."
Midiam, who had heard about how they enslaved members of the Herald Clan, rolled over on the bed with a chilling smile.
"We need to confirm the truth first."
Azadin was equally enraged by the deeds of the merchants and the sawmill workers. That was why he had deliberately acted like a fanatic to ruin the atmosphere, but that alone wasn't enough to quell his anger.
"So if we confirm it, will you kill them?"
"Depending on the circumstances."
Azadin spoke firmly.
"Upholding the emperor's law is the duty of a herald. Now, shall we get some sleep? For tomorrow's journey?"
Azadin rinsed his mouth lightly with tea dregs and salt before lying down on the bed.
'Who is this daughter of the Herald Clan they were talking about? A former herald? I never received any kind of proper handover, so I have no idea. I'll have to check for myself.'
With a heavy heart, Azadin closed his eyes.
***
The next morning, the merchants and adventurers, suffering from hangovers, packed their belongings and prepared for their journey. Judging by their familiarity with the state of a hangover, it was clear they were used to drinking heavily on a regular basis.
Even while groaning from the effects of alcohol, they packed their goods without damaging them, proving that they practically lived in a state of perpetual intoxication.
"Alright, let's get going!"
They set off as if it were routine. The group left the imperial road and took a forest path. The trail was well-trodden, indicating frequent passage. Nearby, a tea vendor was selling tea and snacks.
Azadin approached the tea merchant and asked,
"How's business?"
"It's alright, I suppose. If I tried selling on the main road, the other guilds would give me trouble."
"Aren't there any beasts or bandits?"
"Haha. There are, but I'm pretty quick on my feet."
The tea merchant said this while pouring tea for the merchants. Azadin walked quietly with the group, then turned to Midiam and Ishmael.
"Those merchants are watching, so don't use your bows. Understood?"
When they fought the holy knights, Midiam and Ishmael had only fired their bows, but that alone had exposed them as members of the Herald Clan.
After all, no thirteen-year-old boy or girl outside of Aragasa could even draw such a powerful bow.
They couldn't afford to be exposed again, so Azadin warned them in advance and stayed in line, pretending to be nothing more than a humble pilgrim.
Meanwhile, Kaka and Chico skillfully surveyed the path, checking for traps or signs of territorial markings left by wild beasts, all while casually joking with other members of the Cell Sword Guild and chatting with Tarkiev about various rumors.
Judging by their demeanor, they didn't seem to consider themselves of noble blood at all.
Most notably, when the conversation about a woman being enslaved simply for having the blood of the Herald Clan came up, they withdrew from the discussion.
'It might just be a coincidence, but I'll give them extra points for now. At the very least, they're better than Tarkiev. Since they haven't participated in exploiting slaves, I should ensure they don't get killed, right?'
With that evaluation, Azadin silently followed the merchant convoy.
The deeper they went into the forest, the darker it became. The trees were dry and grotesquely twisted.
"...."
Azadin clicked his tongue at what his vision revealed.
Black corruption was spreading.
It was a trace of black mana.
"There's a sawmill deeper inside. If we go there, they'll tell us about the wyverns. We're also planning to sell some of our goods there to lighten our load…."
The merchants turned to the adventurers of the Cell Sword Guild, who were escorting them, seeking their opinion.
Is it safe to proceed?
To Azadin, the place was overflowing with dark mana, looking like a dangerous and ominous abyss, but to the merchants and others, it probably appeared as just an ordinary forest.
"Something smells off."
Midiam, who had exceptional talent as a mage, pinched his nose, puzzled.
"Really? I don't smell anything."
Tarkiev remained unfazed, proving that this was something ordinary people couldn't perceive. Azadin signaled to Midiam and Ishmael with hand gestures.
"Stick close to the Kerim goat."
After saying that, Azadin prepared his weapons. He drew two swords he had taken from Kozel's soldiers, sheathing one at his waist and slinging the other across his back. He also picked up four hunting arrows and concealed them inside his pants and beneath his cloak.
As he was making these preparations, the merchants called out.
"Ah, we've arrived at the sawmill!"
"Hey! Karim! We brought some liquor…."
But instead of a human voice, a growling snarl greeted them.
"Krurrr!"
"Grrrr!"
Hunting dogs, their backs marked by massive claw wounds and their innards torn out, suddenly rushed out from the village. Though already dead, they barked and charged madly.
"Get back!"
"Oh, my god!"
"They're undead!"
The adventurers of the Cell Sword Guild immediately formed a battle formation. Since they had come prepared for hunting, they were all armed with spears, and their formation created a strong defensive wall.
However, the charging hounds did not mindlessly crash into the formation. Despite being undead, they retained the cunning and instincts they had in life, circling the Cell Sword Guild's formation instead of attacking head-on.
"Hiik!"
"B-be careful! Show a weakness, and you're done for!"
Just then, one of the hounds leapt at a gap in the formation. It targeted the rear, the formation's weakest point, where there was no way to defend.
"Hup!"
Surprisingly, it was Tarkiev who intercepted it. He swung his longsword, blocking the hound's attack. The undead hound recoiled, retreating upon realizing that this was not a vulnerable point, before resuming its predatory circling.
"Damn it! That thing's clever!"
Tarkiev, gripping his longsword, stood at the rear diagonal of the formation—its weak point—waving his blade through the air to keep the hounds at bay.
"Not bad."
Azadin praised Tarkiev while assessing the situation. The undead hounds were encircling the group of adventurers and merchants, keeping them wary while, from the village, human-shaped undead—zombies—began to emerge.
These were likely the former residents of the sawmill village, now armed with axes, cleavers, clubs, spears, saws, and chisels as they advanced.
"T-there's too many of them!"
With the undead hounds circling the formation, the adventurers and merchants armed with spears couldn't move recklessly. Meanwhile, the enemies continued to close in, leaving them with no options.
Maintaining the formation made moving difficult, yet standing still would lead to them being completely surrounded.
"Shoot, shoot them with bows!"
The people at the rear of the formation began pulling out their hunting bows and firing arrows….
Azadin found it maddening to watch. Their arrows were missing their targets. Since they hadn't trained in archery, their shots were wasted, precious arrows being squandered.
If their archery skills were lacking, they should have been aiming at the slow-moving zombies instead. But in their desperation, they kept trying to shoot the agile hounds threatening the formation, wasting arrow after arrow. Unable to tolerate it any longer, Azadin picked up a rock from the ground.
"Step aside for a moment!"
He said that, then hurled the rock.
—Squeak!
The stone struck a hound's head dead-on.
"Kyeng!"
The undead hound thrashed, tumbling to the ground. Azadin's throw had been so forceful that its skull shattered.
"Huh?"
"Wow?!"
—Whoosh!
Another rock flew. Once again, it struck a hound squarely.
"I'll handle the hounds. You focus on stopping the human zombies."
"Ah, understood!"
"Ugh, alright!"
The others lacked the skill to hit the swift-moving hounds. But following Azadin's advice, they focused on the slower human zombies, finally landing their shots. However, their arrows weren't strong enough to stop the zombies.
The zombies continued walking, arrows embedded in their bodies. Without the sheer power of a strong bow to destroy bones and muscles, dealing with the zombies at close range would prove difficult.