Midiam, a member of the prestigious Aether family of Aragasa, harbored no goodwill toward the people of Hubris. However, she found herself sympathizing with Azadin's words.
Protecting the people was a beautiful act. Even if they were the very civilians who harbored hostility toward Aragasa, protecting the powerless was the true virtue of a warrior noble. Even if one was not a warrior noble…
As a human, it was simply the right thing to do.
'No one has ever taught me that before.'
Everyone only spoke from Aragasa's perspective, never discussing the virtue or aesthetics beyond it. For that reason, Midiam had already begun to respect Azadin to some extent.
If Azadin possessed the eloquence and means to embellish that philosophy,
Her respect would only grow deeper.
"Please stop, young lady."
Ishmael grumbled.
"There is no need to go out of our way to save such a person and forgive him. He must be killed. If we spare the one who caused the black magic disaster, who knows what will happen? And respect…?"
Ishmael felt like he was going mad with jealousy.
Respect from Midiam?
Midiam had never shown interest in anyone her age, nor in anyone older. Why was she so interested in that eyeless traitor, the cursed Azadin? And why did Azadin find Midiam's attention so bothersome?
If he could just receive that level of attention from her, Ishmael would be willing to sell even his soul!
"Whether you respect me or not, that doesn't matter. I'm just doing what I can."
"So, will you continue to hide our identities? Should we refrain from shooting our bows? Are you telling us to just act like helpless children of Hubris?"
"That's not it."
Azadin pulled something out from the storage.
"Let's use this."
What Azadin brought out was a hunting bow used by the villagers. Compared to the Moon Horn Bows of the Herald Clan, its draw strength was weak. It was a weapon that wouldn't be strange even in the hands of thirteen-year-old boys and girls.
"Hm, this?"
"Yes, let's get ready."
"For what?"
"A defensive battle, of course. Entering the forest or swamp would be foolish, so we'll lure the enemy here."
Saying that, Azadin began preparing to light a fire.
"We're going to need a lot of arrows. The ones used by the villagers and what we have now might not be enough. Well then, shall we wax the bows and make some arrows?"
"Ugh, I don't want to make arrows."
Midiam groaned in annoyance.
"Hmph, but it's about time you waxed your Moonhorn Bows, right? If you don't maintain them consistently, they'll snap."
The bows of the Herald Clan were smaller yet more powerful than ordinary bows. However, they required rigorous maintenance. If they weren't waxed at least once a week, the bows would dry out and eventually snap explosively.
Azadin lit the fire and took out supplies—materials for making arrows. He gathered threads, feathers, and wood from the sawmill, beginning to refine them.
Using a hand axe sharpened to the point where it could shave hair, he split the wood into shafts. He then roasted them over the fire, drying out the remaining moisture and sap.
"Prepare."
"Yes."
Ishmael, the servant, combed the fur of the Kerim mountain goat they had brought along, using an oil comb to collect the wax esters from its sebaceous glands.
The collected wax, along with fleas, lice, and dust, was then scraped onto an iron plate. Azadin rolled the fire-scorched wooden shafts over the plate, crushing the fleas and lice while evenly coating the shafts with wax ester. He then roasted them over the fire once more, allowing the wax to be fully absorbed. This was how the arrow shafts were made.
"Next."
Azadin handed the finished arrow shafts to Midiam. She carefully split the ends, inserted feathers, wrapped them with thread, and prepared to attach nocks made of animal or fish bones.
"Don't use the nocks. Just finish with thread. We need to conserve."
"But that will make the arrows…"
"These arrows are made from fresh wood, and they'll dry out and become brittle over time anyway. We're also using iron coin arrowheads. We'll pour everything into this defense. They'll all be fired before they dry out, so they only need to be slightly better than goblin arrows."
The iron coin arrowheads were made from iron coins, a hard currency in the Eight Kingdoms. The iron coins, known as elm leaf coins, were cast from iron and could be used as makeshift arrowheads.
It was said they were designed this way for wartime or emergencies, but to actual archers, it was nothing more than a bureaucratic fantasy.
Iron coins, being general currency, contained many impurities and were made of low-quality metal. Arrowheads made from them had poor penetration. While they were sufficient against unarmored opponents, against those wearing armor, the arrowheads would simply break, rendering them nearly useless.
Moreover, many of the iron coins were worn and bent from circulation, meaning they had to be carefully selected for use as arrowheads.
"The goat has been fully combed."
Ishmael, having collected enough wax ester, quickly approached Midiam.
"Then you attach the arrowheads."
Azadin instructed Ishmael to fasten the arrowheads. As expected of members of the Herald Clan, renowned for their archery, they were also adept at crafting arrows, swiftly filling their quivers and producing extra.
Once the arrows were made, Azadin used the leftover wax ester to treat the Moonhorn Bows.
"Alright, then."
Azadin attached a halberd head to a refined wooden shaft—the halberd head previously belonging to the village's guard captain. He fastened the nock, applied the remaining wax, and carefully roasted it over the fire to ensure the wax seeped in evenly.
***
While Azadin, Ishmael, and Midiam made arrows and maintained their bows, the rest of the group gathered wood and furniture to reinforce the barricades. It was impossible to defend the entire sawmill village, so they designated key buildings—houses, storage facilities, and other structures—as the defensive line. They then piled up obstacles to prevent enemies from easily entering through the windows.
"He doesn't seem like a mere pilgrim."
Kaka, following the defense plan Azadin had set up, dragged furniture into position and muttered in admiration. No matter which direction the enemy attacked from, the houses, storage buildings, and existing structures were strategically used, with furniture and garbage piles placed for maximum advantage.
"What exactly is that man? Is he on a pilgrimage because he committed some great crime in the past?"
"I don't know either."
Tarkiev had no choice but to answer that way. He couldn't exactly say that he was the Emperor's herald.
"I apologize. I should be the one leading."
Meiya, the executive knight of Salasma, felt ashamed that she, a holy knight, was failing to properly command the situation.
At that moment, movement was sensed in the forest.
—Wuung?
A wyvern's cry. And then, through the mist at the southern entrance of the sawmill, merchants appeared.
"Grrrr."
"Kuuuu."
The merchants and their guards had somehow become undead. Those who had departed along the southern road had been ambushed by monsters, slaughtered, and then returned as the undead.
***
"They're fast."
Azadin clicked his tongue at how quickly the merchant group had been wiped out. The merchants, perhaps, but the mercenaries and adventurers traveling with them shouldn't have been so easy to take down.
"Well then, everyone into battle formation!"
Azadin handed spears to Tarkiev, Kaka, the Chico siblings, and the holy knight Meiya, positioning them at the front. Meanwhile, he took up his bow and stationed himself inside the storage building.
The undead, once the bodies of merchants and adventurers, were now approaching the village's entrance barricade. Suddenly, a woman's voice echoed from above.
[Ahahaha. You people are quite amusing, aren't you?]
To their shock, the wyvern was speaking in the voice of a young woman. Most likely, the mage responsible for this situation was using the wyvern's body to transmit her voice.
'If she can control undead and other creatures, then controlling a flying one like a wyvern makes sense. It gives her a clear vantage point and better mobility.'
Azadin had realized from the start that the wyvern was acting as this woman's possessed body. Since the host was nearby, he initiated a conversation.
"Are you the Herald Clan member who massacred this village?"
Azadin's question made the voice sound surprised.
[What? How do you know that?]
"The merchants talked."
[That's right. Those bastards turned me into a slave, trampled on everything I had! Just because I inherited the blood of the Herald Clan! They treated me like a soulless rock!]
"Are you still alive?"
[Of course, I'm alive!]
She said that, but most wraiths also claimed they were still alive, so her words couldn't be taken at face value.
"How did you gain this power?"
[Why should I tell you that? If you're so curious, become one of my undead. Then, you'll find out whether you like it or not!]
"Even though we had nothing to do with those who enslaved you, you still intend to treat us as enemies?"
[Shut up! If only you people have souls while I'm just a soulless rock on the side of the road, then my mission is to grind your souls into dust! You arrogant Hubris people! I will drown your souls in suffering!]
It seemed this mage intended to take out her resentment on all the people of Hubris for the abuse she suffered as a Herald Clan member. For Azadin, who was also from the Herald Clan, this was quite unfair.
Hearing this, Midiam whispered to Azadin.
"If we reveal that we're from the Herald Clan, could we persuade her?"
"And what about the holy knight?"
"We'll have to kill her."
"If we kill the holy knight, then what will happen to Tarkiev's half-siblings?"
"Well, there's nothing we can do about them either."
"Oh, Midiam."
Azadin let out a sigh.
"You mustn't take human lives so lightly. Not even the holy knights of the King's Church."
"Oh, my goodness. Are you serious?"
Ishmael, who had been listening, was appalled.
"Then what other solution do we have?"
"Well, since she believes that the strong take everything…"
Azadin shrugged.
"We just have to show her who the strong one really is."
The bodies of the adventurers and merchants were closing in from the sawmill village entrance, advancing toward the storage building. Azadin grabbed an arrow and set it on his bowstring.
"Aren't they still too far? Shouldn't we lure them in a little more before shooting?"
Meiya suggested waiting until they were closer, but Azadin responded.
"I'd like to, but there are too many of them. For us, space itself is a barricade. If we let them take up too much space, the barricade shrinks."
In other words, he intended to shoot from a distance to maximize their area of defense. With that, Azadin loosed his arrow.
—Shwaaaak!
With a fierce sound tearing through the wind, the arrow flew.
—Thwak!
The shot struck an adventurer's head, shattering his jawbone and piercing through his helmet, sending it flying. The terrifying sound was just an added effect.