Salasma and Lantarik, these two territories were adjacent to each other, making them destined to be arch-enemies for generations. The Kora River, which formed their territorial boundary, was the lifeline for river transport, irrigation agriculture, and fishing, leading to continuous disputes over its basin.
The current lord of Lantarik was Count Garnahair, a high-ranking noble who owned not only Lantarik but also the territory of Adirof. However, when Count Kazel rose to power in Salasma, Garnahair underestimated him and waged war, only to taste the bitter cup of defeat.
Afterward, Count Garnahair adjusted his strategy, sending his daughter to marry Count Kazel in a political marriage while secretly deploying agents along the border to sow chaos in Salasma, engaging in slave trading and supporting bandit groups.
Among the agents that the lord of Lantarik had infiltrated, the highest-ranking one was a former guard captain known as Doneor. Doneor originally had no fondness for covert operations like these. He had always believed that he would either become a knight someday or, at the very least, retire with a hefty pension and live in wealth. Thus, he even harbored resentment toward Count Garnahair for sending him to live among bandits.
However...
Once he actually settled in, he found it quite enjoyable. They say it's better to be the head of a snake than the tail of a dragon, and after experiencing it firsthand, he realized that old saying was absolutely true.
Doneor freely took his pick from the women captured by the bandits, looted all sorts of luxury goods and treasures, and even kept a personal jester for his amusement.
His hideout, which was no less extravagant than the palaces of lesser nobles, was referred to by other bandits as the "Bandit King's Palace." It was to this so-called Bandit King's Palace that the naga woman, Shati, was presented.
***
"Bandit King, we have captured a naga."
"What? What nonsense is that?"
Doneor was skeptical.
"All nagas belong to the organization dedicated to rebuilding Nagashura. They're no easy opponents. How could someone of your skill possibly capture one?"
"Well, you see… It was them."
"You know, that inn where the guests end up in a pot."
"Ah, that place? Even nagas fall victim to its poison?"
Doneor chuckled in disbelief.
"So, what about the naga?"
"She's an exceptional beauty."
"A naga who has taken human form."
"Hah, interesting. Isn't she just a regular woman? Bandits do have a knack for exaggeration."
Thinking as much, Doneor pulled out the person chained beneath his dining table.
"Ugh! What are you doing? Do you dare insult a knight?"
The one bound in chains was an elderly man with a beard as white as snow. Though his youthful vigor had long faded, leaving his skin dry like an old tree, his dignified presence hinted that he had received an excellent education.
However, at present, he wore a brass wash basin on his head, a crude wooden sword painted in garish colors fit only for children, and a ridiculous suit of cloth armor. Moreover, his mind seemed not to be entirely intact, as he had forgotten all decorum and was picking up breadcrumbs from the floor to eat.
"What do you think, Sir Brand?"
Doneor sneered, and the old man, addressed as Sir Brand, shot up from his seat.
"Whether a naga has transformed into a human, whether the people lied to please their king, or whether even they were deceived by a fraud, none of that matters. What matters is that the king himself must judge! That is the duty of one who wears the crown!"
Brand deliberately omitted the word "bandit" from Doneor's title as Bandit King. In doing so, Doneor became simply "the King," and his bandit subordinates became his "subjects" or "soldiers."
"Hahaha, you always amuse me. Keeping you alive has been worth it."
Doneor had been the son of a tanner. Tanners, always reeking of foul chemicals, were considered a lowly profession, and even after he became a soldier and achieved various feats, he was never evaluated on the same level as others.
Count Lantarik had deployed him to the bandits precisely because he was a tanner's son. But this old man called him a king. Here, this was his palace, and in this place, he was the king, reigning over a nation of bandits who pillaged, killed, and even consumed their victims.
Of course, it was entertaining. The king of bandits had a senile brass knight doubling as a jester, so why not add a naga to the mix?
***
The bandit hideout was located in a basin. Though Salasma had suffered a drought, the basin had been spared, and inside, lush vegetation flourished around a small stream that branched from the Kora River, with bandit camps lined up along its banks.
At the center of the basin stood a wooden fortress. It wasn't built to last forever, but it also wasn't a simple tent that could be pitched and taken down easily.
The palisade walls were solid enough that it would have taken at least half a year of construction to form a recognizable stronghold. As Shati looked upon the bandits' lair, she immediately grasped what had happened.
'This is the work of the lord of Lantarik. That conniving Count Garnahair!'
She had stayed in the margrave's castle in Salasma and was well aware of the friction between Salasma and Lantarik. Although the lord of Lantarik's daughter had married Kazel, the son of the lord of Salasma, the embers of their rivalry still smoldered beneath the surface.
At that moment, soldiers opened the iron bars.
"Come out, naga. Our king wishes to see you."
"The king? The king of bandits?"
"That's right. Our king even keeps a personal jester. He's more of a king than most counts."
"...."
Even as a joke, for him to call himself king suggested that his loyalty to Count Garnahair was wavering.
'Perhaps I have a chance to get out of this alive?'
Clinging to a glimmer of hope, Shati followed the soldiers.
Inside the fortress, at its heart, stood a longhouse decorated with gold, ivory, and all sorts of rare treasures. Women, draped in exotic clothing looted from merchants, were cleaning the interior.
The longhouse was large, but it hardly seemed to require four or five women to clean. The presence of so many half-clad women suggested that the leader was deliberately flaunting his power to his subordinates.
'He's drunk on power, losing his mind. It's a common sight with men like him.'
Shati was led before the bandit leader, the so-called Bandit King. He was a middle-aged man, and from his presence, he seemed to be a formidable warrior.
"This… is supposed to be a naga? No matter how I look at her, she just seems like a regular human woman."
"Yes. Her companions also looked like human men, but when they attacked, they transformed."
"Now that I think about it, wasn't there a story about Count Salasma transforming into a naga? This woman must be related to that. Am I wrong?"
"...."
Shati was at a loss for words. She had assumed he was just a foolish bandit playing king, but he was surprisingly sharp.
"You won't answer? If you get tortured, surrendering without resistance will have been meaningless. You're waiting for your comrades to rescue you, aren't you?"
"It's humiliating enough just speaking with scum like you, filthy warm-blooded monkey."
"Was it your doing that the count turned into a naga?"
"He made that choice himself. Becoming a follower of the great Cobra Queen, Devislin, is an honor—too grand a blessing for a mere warm-blooded monkey."
"Hmm. So you're saying Count Salasma has become a cultist. There's no way you were willing to accept him as a follower for nothing. What did he offer you?"
"The corpses of his subjects. We planned to turn them into mummies and use them to overthrow Count Lantarik."
Shati mixed lies with truth. It was indeed true that they had gathered corpses to create an undead army and devour the entire Korasar region, including Lantarik. However, the real reason the Cobra Queen, Devislin, accepted the count as her follower was that he had offered a copy of the Book of the Divine King.
If she mentioned the Book of the Divine King, there was no telling what kind of greed these bandits might show.
"Hahaha. Nobles all think alike. They're all mad, really."
"And yet, you seem to be doing all this because you want to be a noble yourself. How about it? Why not become a follower of the Cobra Queen as well?"
"Didn't you just call me a filthy warm-blooded monkey?"
"That and this are separate matters. If you become a follower, you can escape the fate of a filthy warm-blooded monkey. We nagas live much longer and are far stronger than you humans."
Though Shati despised these bandits, if she could recruit them, she would.
Count Kazel had been killed by the Herald Clan, and the nagas' carefully crafted plan had been ruined. If she could win over this Bandit King and his horde, she could at least recover some of that loss.
"Hmm? Quite arrogant for someone who's been captured."
Doneor smirked at Shati's confident attitude.
"So, what will you do? Will you accept?"
"No, I don't like it. You dare try to negotiate with me as an equal? Hang her on the rack. As for food, just give her the corpses of her fellow nagas for a while."
"Yes, sir!"
"...H, hey!"
Shati was taken aback by Doneor's response.
Just then, a messenger came running in.
"B-Boss! We have a problem!"
"A problem? What problem?"
"Some lunatic is attacking!"
"A lunatic?"
"Yes! He stormed in demanding to buy the naga woman, and he's either breaking the arms and legs of our guards or, um, uh… castrating them!"
"Castrating them?"
Doneor turned to Shati.
"Seems like a guest has come looking for you. Any idea who it might be? A comrade?"
"Ah, probably."
"Speak."
"You were just about to hang me on the rack, weren't you? Why should I tell you anything?"
"If you don't—"
But before he could finish, the bandits screamed.
"Boss! Now's not the time for this!"
"Please, give us orders!"
"...Damn it! Fine!"
Doneor hurriedly prepared for battle.
***
As they entered the basin where the Kora River tributary marked the boundary between Count Lantarik's and Count Salasma's territories, the signs of drought that had plagued the eastern inland region disappeared, giving way to lush green forest paths.
"Hey, stop following us."
The guards of the armed merchant caravan grew irritated when Azadin and his group followed them closely.
"We're not exactly following you. The road just happens to be a straight line."
"Hmph. Don't play dumb. Do you think we don't know what you're up to? There are a lot of bandits in this area, so you're just trying to tag along with us for safety, aren't you?"
"Even if that were the case, isn't it better to have more people? That way, the bandits would find us a harder target to attack."
Simply increasing their numbers would make them a less tempting target for bandits. Azadin pointed this out, but the mercenaries of the armed merchant caravan scoffed.