"Hmm, do you know me?"
Zekt asked back with a smile. At that moment, a chilling aura emanated from him. Though he was smiling, he clearly felt displeasure toward this bandit.
Even the Holy Knights accompanying Zekt, and even Doneor, the King of Bandits, who was meeting him for the first time, could sense Zekt's mood. Doneor hurriedly spoke up.
"I am Doneor, an operative of Count Lantarik. I am not a mere bandit, but was merely carrying out a mission as part of my operative work."
"Oh…"
"I saw the Herald Clan members you were looking for with my own eyes."
"Is that so? That's fortunate. Please lead the way."
Zekt was still smiling.
'Good, I'm alive. At least for now…'
Doneor felt relieved as he sensed the killing intent from Zekt dissipated. Just moments ago, Zekt had been ready to kill him just for having seen him.
But what if he was an operative of Count Lantarik? If Zekt killed him, the Count would surely find a flaw to exploit. There was no way news of him subjugating bandits wouldn't spread.
"Please, lead the way."
"Ah, yes. But, this is…"
Doneor staggered as he tried to rise. Blood was seeping from his thigh.
"Oh, you're injured. Hmm, I suppose I should help you a little."
Zekt smiled.
"Ah, yes. Thank you— huh?!"
Doneor was horrified. From Zekt's hand, a dark crimson blood worm—no, by now, it was no longer just a worm, but had grown to the size of a small viper—crawled toward him.
"Don't worry. It's nothing serious. It will heal your wound and grant you some strength."
"Ah, ahh…"
The dark crimson blood viper burrowed into Doneor's thigh. Holy Knight Zebeck frowned as he witnessed the sight.
"Kuaaaahhh!"
Doneor's scream tore through the air.
***
Shati was locked in an underground prison with a blade fastened around her neck. Before leaving, the bandits had secured it in place.
'I can't move. Why is this so sturdy?'
Nagans possessed strength far superior to humans, but if she tried to exert her power while wearing this blade restraint, she would end up slitting her own throat. Just then, footsteps echoed in the prison.
"Hey, are you sure about this? The boss cherishes these slaves."
"That's why we should just have our fun while he's not here."
"What if they snitch to the boss?"
"They're all going to be disposed of this week anyway."
It seemed the bandits had come to satisfy their greed while their boss was away. But they were going to dispose of them this week?
At that moment, commotion broke out among the bandits. Another set of footsteps was descending into the prison.
The one entering the underground prison of Doneor, the King of Bandits, was his jester, Brand.
"Huh? What the hell?"
"Hey, it's the old man. What's he doing here…?"
The bandits laughed as they spoke, but their expressions changed when they saw the old man carrying a crowbar.
"Hey, old man, put that down."
"No, it is you who should put down your weapons."
"What?"
The next moment, the bandits realized they had walked into a trap. The underground corridor was too narrow for them to escape, and the old man had fortified himself with a patched-up leather coat covered in brass utensils, making him look far from defenseless.
"Hey!"
The bandits reached for their swords, but the old man's crowbar cut through the air first.
'What's happening out there?'
Shati listened to the sounds from outside. Given her limited information, her imagination spiraled in all sorts of unpleasant directions.
Well, in this situation, thinking of anything positive would just be delusional. Her mission had failed, her comrades had been killed, and a restraint was fastened around her neck. Just then, the door opened.
"Come out, young lady."
A clownish old man, wearing a brass wash basin as a helmet, unlocked the prison door. Behind him stood several other women, half of whom looked just as bewildered as she was, while the other half seemed to understand the situation perfectly.
'A prepared rebellion. Some of them planned this carefully. Those who haven't caught on must be newcomers.'
Shati caught on quickly and stepped out of the prison. Among the calm women, one, who seemed to be the leader, walked forward. She wore ragged clothing barely fit to be called clothes and pulled out a key, unlocking the restraint around Shati's neck.
"Now, let's escape. Gather food, supplies, clothes, and shoes. Once we're done, we'll burn this place down."
"Where are we escaping to?"
"We'll make our way toward Count Lantarik's territory. If we follow the water westward, we'll reach his lands."
"It's a straight path, but it seems to be our only option. Ah, by the way, do you happen to have my belongings? There's something very important inside…"
"Are you looking for this?"
The woman in rags held up Shati's document case.
"Ah!"
"I'll be holding onto this for now."
Saying so, she picked up a short sword from the body of a slain bandit.
"..."
She slightly unsheathed the blade, examined it, then slid it back into its scabbard before securing it at her waist. She handled the weapon with familiarity.
"I overheard the bandits talking. They said you're a Naga. Is that true?"
The woman's sharp gaze was pressing. Judging by her stance and the way she handled her sword, she was no ordinary individual.
"That's right. I'm a confidant of the great Cobra Queen, Devislin. But those bandits took something crucial from me, so please return it. If I don't reseal it…"
"If you don't reseal it, then what?"
When Shati was captured by the bandits, she had unsealed the copy of the Book of the Divine King, ensuring it would be traced again. If she didn't seal it again, they would inevitably be pursued.
'But if I demand it now, I'll have to fight them.'
Seeing the way the woman was glaring at her, Shati carefully chose her words.
"If you cooperate with us for now, I'll return it to you later. Until then, I'll keep it safe."
The runaway slave woman, recognizing Shati's interest in the bag, kept it as collateral to ensure her compliance.
"Now, let's go."
The old man with the crowbar took the lead. The women gathered supplies and set the hideout ablaze.
'Is this really necessary? Won't this just attract the bandits?'
Shati thought so at first, but she soon understood why they had set the fire.
The path from the bandits' hideout to Count Lantarik's territory ran through a treacherous gorge, where a rope bridge spanned the gap.
It was no makeshift bridge. The ropes were thicker than a man's arm and reinforced with iron wires. If someone tried to cut it with a sword, the blade would bend and recoil from the force.
The old man, wearing an overturned brass wash basin on his head, poured oil over the bridge and set it on fire, destroying it. If they were planning to escape without a trace, it would have been one thing, but since they were cutting the bridge anyway, there was no reason to fear making smoke.
However, just as they were setting the bridge ablaze, a group arrived at the bandits' hideout. It was Azadin and his companions, leading three Kerim mountain goats.
"Greetings, everyone."
"Ugh, t-that man…."
Shati frowned upon seeing Azadin, who had tracked her all the way here.
"We have come to capture that woman, who possesses something important to us. If you would hand her over, we would be most grateful."
"Hah, how ridiculous! It wasn't yours to begin with!"
"It was ours! It belongs to our Aragasa!"
Unable to hold back, Midiam shouted, causing the people around her to look confused.
"Aragasa? What's that?"
"They mean the Herald Clan!"
Shati exposed Azadin and his companions as members of the Herald Clan.
"That means, at the very least, you're not in league with the bandits."
Brand, upon hearing that Azadin's group belonged to the Herald Clan, felt a bit relieved.
"They've already destroyed the bridge, so they'll probably resort to shooting arrows. It's dangerous, but the distance is quite far, and there are civilians… huh?"
At that moment, Azadin's group mounted their mountain goats and started charging forward. They dashed down the slope, then effortlessly scaled the cliff. Mountain goats were far better at traversing rough terrain than horses, capable of climbing cliffs that were otherwise impossible for a horse to ascend.
"What!"
Shati was stunned as she saw Azadin and his group rushing toward them. Watching them scale the treacherous cliffs as if they were flat ground only reinforced the widely known rumors about the Herald Clan.
However, the old man wearing the brass washbasin, Brand, pointed his crowbar at Azadin.
"Stop right there!"
"Hahaha. Who is this old man? Why is he wearing a washbasin on his head?"
Midiam sneered as she reached for her sword atop her goat, but Azadin raised a hand to stop her, bringing himself to a halt as well.
"Huh?"
"We do not intend to harm you. We simply wish to retrieve the item that she stole from us."
"I can tell that you are not allied with the bandits, but if you try to take something from a woman in distress by force, I will not forgive you."
"Why? She has no deep connection to you, so why do you trust her so much?"
Azadin was genuinely curious. This group of old men and runaway slaves was in no position to be so relaxed.
"Do you really have a reason to take in a suspicious Naga woman?"
"We are nothing but the weak and the old. Among us, there are even pregnant women. If we start abandoning people just because we have no reason to keep them, we'll all end up scattered in the end."
The old man pointed his crowbar at Azadin.
"So rather than abandon someone here to ensure our own safety, I'd rather fight and die. Even if what you say is true and she is a thief, I will not step aside now."
"Hah, you are being stubborn. You know you are weak, yet you insist on protecting her?"
"Because even now, my knees are trembling as if they might collapse. If I do not force myself to stand my ground, if I do not persist even unreasonably, I fear I will once again succumb to wretched submission."
"You mean you are being stubborn just to avoid being miserable again? Fine."
Azadin leapt down from his Kerim mountain goat and landed on the ground.
Was he going to fight?
Everyone instinctively took a step back in fear, but Azadin merely straightened himself and offered a respectful bow.
"It is the duty of the Emperor's herald to answer the voices of the people, so we will assist you."
"Are you serious?"
This time, the old man was the one caught off guard. Behind him, Ishmael muttered under his breath.
"There's no gold coin involved, so why…."
"Wait, hold on a moment!"
Shati objected. From the way Azadin was speaking, wasn't he suggesting that he would accompany this group of runaway slaves?
"Of course, he's lying! That Herald Clan member is just making things up so he can stay close and steal my belongings!"
In truth, it was Shati who was blurting out whatever came to mind in her panic. Azadin, noticing her slip of the tongue, began pressing her with a quiet intensity.