The light of the king's virtue.
It is the foundation of the faith of the king's church and the reason why the Yaegas Divine Clan is revered as divine kings.
When a rightful king sits on the throne, a barrier of white magic protects this land and drives out the dark monsters. Especially the undead, who melt away like snowmen in the face of the scorching summer wind under the light of the king's virtue.
"Hehe, the light of the king's virtue, you say? That's only if a rightful king is seated. The blood of the Yaegas Divine Clan has thinned, and their power has weakened. That's why they will offer a copy of the Book of the Divine King in exchange for Devislin's blessing."
"Devislin's blessing?"
"The Kurt Divine Clan, the power of the Cobra Queen, will push back the light of the king's virtue and help me seize the throne of Korasar. Thanks to you heralds leaking the copy of the Book of the Divine King, I can challenge the throne once again."
"So you plan to create a world filled only with the undead and Nagas? Do you think that is beautiful? What you wanted was the throne of Korasar. Will you still be satisfied if all your subordinates on that throne are nothing but undead or Nagas? Is that truly what you desired?"
Azadin asked out of pure curiosity. Was it because of that? The count answered seriously.
"What meaning does a beautiful world hold if it is not mine? As long as I can claim it, I would not care if all the people of Hubris became undead. If I cannot have it, then its beauty only disgusts me."
"Ah… is that so? So that's the kind of person you are."
Azadin clicked his tongue.
There was no persuading him. He could only be an enemy. No, if left alone, he would drag everyone around him into the abyss of misfortune. He was the embodiment of absolute evil.
A man who craves power.
In a way, he was similar to Arael.
'Arael…'
Azadin felt the old wounds inflicted by Arael ache once more.
***
"I will give you whatever you desire. Be on my side."
The moment Azadin opened Arael's letter, he was sucked into a pitch-black space.
A space filled with nothing but darkness, where a lone woman stood with her back to the light. It was Arael.
Due to the intense backlight, her face could not be seen. No, it was more likely that she did not want it to be seen.
Azadin's vision could normally pierce through both darkness and backlight. The fact that he could not see her face now was undoubtedly her will.
"It's been a long time, Arael."
"Did you miss me?"
"Not at all."
Azadin touched his face. His old wound had split open, and blood was trickling down. Until now, such a thing had never happened, but in this space, his wounds had reopened as if they had just been freshly cut.
"I didn't miss you at all."
"Is that all you have to say after ten years? Aren't you curious why I rebelled?"
"Not in the slightest. I can already guess. Something about conquering the world, or how the current heralds are rotten, right?"
"The elder council and the chief are bewitched by the 'Nether.' You know that, don't you? You were deciphering the language of the Nether alongside Elder Kazas."
"Yes, I know."
The heralds, the Aragasa, had been studying countless magic arts in their desperate quest to break free from the curse of service. Among them were forbidden black magic and even the magic of the Nether.
However, the magic of the Nether was so dark that even attempting to approach it was nearly impossible for humans. A normal human who merely uttered a word in the Nether language would have their tongue wither away.
Azadin, who possessed an innate resistance to magic, had taken on the role of speaking the Nether language for Kazas, and in return, Kazas had taught him the Beauty of Nature Haeseo.
"Good. This makes things faster. Azadin, I need you. I will give you whatever you desire."
"And what is it that you think I desire?"
"Do you want revenge against the clan that scorned you? Then take your revenge. Once I complete my conquest, I will make all of Aragasa your slaves. You could torture and torment the men for eternity, turn them into monstrous flesh walls, and display them on your fortress. You could make all the women your servants. Even Aldis."
"...!"
"Yes, you've always wanted Aldis, haven't you?"
"…You know nothing."
Azadin shook his head.
"I just want her to be happy. And that… is not a dream that can be realized in such a way."
"You're speaking like a fool, Azadin. Aldis loves chief Hatir."
"..."
"Are you just going to stand by and watch as the one you covet becomes someone else's?"
"If I try to take her, she will be destroyed."
"And what does that matter? If it cannot be yours, then breaking it and taking the fragments is better than having nothing at all."
"If you truly believe that, Arael."
Azadin wiped the blood from his wound and glared at her.
"Then we are finished. You are my enemy."
"…It seems I have an incredibly foolish younger brother."
"I'm the older one."
"Hmph? That's just your own claim, isn't it?"
Despite her words, Arael smiled within the backlight.
"Why are you trying to persuade me now, Arael? Is it because I can help you study the Nether language?"
"That's part of it, but Azadin, you and I are the only blood kin left in this world, aren't we?"
"And you say this now?"
"Listen carefully. I will claim everything in this world. But when I think about it, I have never truly cared for fine food, luxurious clothes, grand castles, or beautiful lovers. What I truly desire is power itself."
Indeed, she cared for nothing but power and strength. One could say she lacked greed, but conversely, it also meant she had nothing she loved.
The only thing that captivated her was power.
Power.
"That doesn't mean I plan to let go of the treasures, slaves, and kingdoms that will fall into my hands. I will take all the wealth, glory, and honor for myself. And if I cannot have something, I will destroy it. Anything beyond my grasp has no right to exist."
Despite having no material desires, she aimed to possess everything, and if she could not, she would annihilate it.
As Azadin listened to Arael's words, he let out a dry laugh. It was the kind of mad rambling one might hear from a drunken vagabond on the street.
The problem was that Arael's power was akin to that of a living goddess. She had the strength to turn her delusions into reality.
"My foolish and repulsive followers will serve their purpose until then. But when I think about sharing my wealth and prestige with such loathsome creatures, I suddenly remembered you. Rather than those detestable beings, wouldn't it be better for my own blood to enjoy the riches and glory? That way, whether they like it or not, my followers will learn one undeniable truth—that our bloodline is noble."
"..."
Is this the kind of thought that arises when selfishness and narcissism reach their peak? In a way, it was almost an admirable statement.
"You are my only blood relative, Azadin. I have decided to love you in my own way."
The very person who inflicted the deepest wounds upon Azadin… now declares that she loves him.
But is that truly love? She doesn't know how to love her own life. Even when she acquires things that others covet, she feels no joy. That is why she has turned her eyes toward Azadin.
If she claims to love Azadin as family, then it gives meaning when she shares what she has acquired. And she dares to call that 'love'?
"I refuse. I have no need for such a love. That is not love; it is nothing more than an ornament to decorate your ambition. To become a mere decoration for your victory…"
Azadin raised his hand to the wound on his face.
"I have my pride too!"
"I told you, Azadin."
Arael, still within the backlight, stood up.
"Anything that does not belong to me has no reason to exist. Even if that thing is you, my only blood relative!"
As the blood flowing from Azadin's face dripped to the ground… he broke free from the magic of the letter.
***
Now, in front of Azadin stood Count Kazel. And yet, he was saying the exact same things as Arael.
'A power-driven mind indeed.'
Azadin recalled Arael's letter, remembering how she had tried to sway him, and once again, his wounds throbbed.
"My lord, why do you concern yourself with that heretic?"
The Nagas expressed their displeasure at how the count was seriously conversing with Azadin.
'Is it because I am an Aragasa? Or because I am stepping on the sacred statue? Either way, to hear even the Nagas call me heretic…'
Hearing this, Azadin let out a small laugh.
"I understand that you once took pride in your herald slaves. However, even without them, there is nothing that can stand against your army now, my lord."
For the count, subjugating and enslaving the heralds had been a great source of pride. That was why he set his sights on Azadin. But now, with an army of mummy soldiers at his command… he had little need for herald slaves.
"Yes, that's true. Strength alone will suffice. But this one is rather interesting. There's something about him that feels different from the typical heralds."
The count sensed an unusual difference in Azadin from the other heralds. That was why he desired him.
"A talent worth having. And even more so if he managed to subdue those two heralds without inflicting much harm."
Count Kazel spoke, then let out a bitter smile.
"But one cannot have everything. Now then, raise the mummies."
"Yes."
The Nagas began chanting their spells.
"That won't do."
Azadin drew blood-soaked arrows from atop the sacred statue—arrows he had taken from the previous heralds, Harad and Kebna—and loosed them toward the count.
The count attempted to block them with the same invisible barrier he had used earlier, but… Azadin's arrows twisted mid-flight, spraying streams of blood as they curved. It was a subtle transformation, barely visible under normal circumstances, but the blood-soaked arrows spun, scattering droplets of blood through the air.
"Hmm?!"
Azadin's arrows curved, aiming instead at the Nagas beside the count. The startled Nagas recoiled like venomous snakes, but the arrows grazed their stomachs and chests as they twisted away.
Though their tough scales prevented the arrows from piercing through, the wounds were deep.
"Kyaaak!"
"Shaaa!"
The enraged Nagas chanted their spells. Droplets of blood lifted from the sacred statue, shooting toward Azadin, but he had seen this magic before.
—Swish! Swish! Swish!
Azadin threw his daggers, striking the floating blood droplets before they could unleash their attack. The droplets burst like balloons, and Azadin fired another arrow.
"Damn it!"
"Curse that herald!"
Now aware that Azadin's arrows could bend and strike their targets freely, the Nagas frantically dodged, struggling to evade. At that moment, the count himself stepped forward, throwing his body in the path of the arrow.
—Boom!
A spherical magic barrier formed in front of the count's body, causing the arrow to explode upon impact.
"You're troubling my women too much. I will deal with him myself. You focus on raising the mummies."
"Yes!"
"Understood!"
As the Nagas withdrew and resumed their spellcasting, the blood pooling within the underground chamber began flowing toward the mummies.
The moment the blood seeped into them, the mummies lying on the floor stirred. From their eyes, ominous embers of ghostly fire flared, and a dreadful, cursed energy surrounded them.
"I can't let that happen!"
Azadin fired his arrow.