Azadin and Arael were twins born from the same womb.
Arael was born with the unparalleled greatest mana in the history of the Herald Clan, having torn away the Grimoire of the Beauty of Nature, which was originally meant to be Azadin's. In contrast, Azadin was born a malformed child, unable to use even a single proper spell, and without eyes.
It is an incredibly difficult thing to ask someone not to hate a twin who was born after robbing them of the talent that should have been theirs. Azadin was no exception—he resented Arael. However, at the same time, he had to acknowledge something.
The charm and power to subjugate all.
But even that charm and power were questionable.
"What reason could possibly justify cooperating with a bastard who slaughters their own people so recklessly?"
The air was thick with the scent of blood and burning. From atop the fortress watchtower, one could see multiple plumes of smoke rising from burning villages.
The army of Count Lantarik had already pillaged the surrounding area and slaughtered many. They were undeniably scum. Even if there were some tragic backstory behind it, could Arael really join hands with someone so utterly irredeemable?
"I'll take charge of the defenses here for now. Any objections?"
"Uh, um."
"We have no complaints."
The soldiers in the watchtower, even the fortress garrison commander, yielded.
Under normal circumstances, they would never entrust their lives to a suspicious entity like a member of the Herald Clan. But in this situation, the only one they could trust was that very suspicious Herald.
"Then, bring all the arrows inside the fortress and stack them here! Soldiers, withdraw from the battlements!"
Azadin stepped onto the battlements himself.
With the sound of wind being sliced, arrows flew toward him. However, he swung his cloak and deflected the incoming arrows.
The now-powerless arrows piled up atop the fortress walls, and one of them landed in Azadin's hand.
—Swaek!
Azadin shot the arrow back. The arrow curved as it flew toward the advancing soldiers, then skimmed low along the ground, sweeping over the soldiers carrying the battering ram.
—Thud!
The power of the bow was so immense that the arrow pierced through one man and continued, skewering the one behind him as well.
"Ugh!"
"T-The shieldmen, what are you doing?!"
"Damn it! It was shot from above, so why is it coming from the front?!"
The soldiers screamed, but Azadin fired another volley in quick succession.
—Swaaaek!
With the sound of the wind being torn apart, the entire right column of the battering ram carriers collapsed. With one side of the carriers gone, the soldiers on the opposite side had no choice but to drop the ram, causing some to have their feet crushed or even be pinned beneath it.
"Argh!"
"D-Damn it!"
"This is insane!"
As the battering ram carriers fell, the sergeants picked up their shields and urged the soldiers forward.
"Shieldmen! Protect the battering ram! Soldiers! Pick it up!"
"..."
But the soldiers' faces were filled with terror.
Anyone who touched the battering ram became a prime target for concentrated fire. If you wanted to die, go ahead and grab the ram.
That was the message Azadin was sending with his arrows.
"We just need to block those arrows with our shields—"
—Thud!
Before the sentence could be completed, the sergeant holding his shield had his jaw blown off. The arrow had slipped through the gap in his shield and obliterated his lower face.
"Ahhhhhhh!"
The sergeant, his jaw gone, collapsed while screaming.
"Abandon the battering ram! Just use axes to break it down!"
"Raise shields and grab axes!"
The soldiers raised their shields over their heads and charged toward the fortress. However, this time, arrows flew out from the fortress windows.
The arrows were shot by Ishmael and Midiam, enchanted with the magic of the Herald Clan, allowing them to maneuver even more freely than Azadin's arrows, wreaking havoc on the advancing soldiers.
"What are our archers doing?! Fire!"
Lantarik's archers loosed arrows toward the fortress walls and windows, but Azadin simply caught the incoming arrows, nocked them on his bow, and shot them back.
—Thud!
Another soldier fell.
Seeing him blatantly catch and return their own arrows, the archers' morale crumbled.
"T-That guy…"
"Shooting is only resupplying his arrows, isn't it?"
"We… we can't move forward!"
"Are you idiots?! It's just one man, and you're telling me you can't even reach the gate?!"
Yet in just this brief skirmish, around ten soldiers had fallen.
Five dead, five wounded.
While it may not seem like much, those ten soldiers made up five percent of the total forces Count Lantarik had gathered here.
Losing that many men in such a short time was devastating. The soldiers' morale plummeted to the depths.
"So this is the Herald Clan!"
"What a terrifying monster!"
The soldiers had no choice but to pray to the gods that the next arrow wouldn't be aimed at them.
***
"What are you all doing, Heralds?!"
Count Lantarik Garnahair seethed at the inaction of the Herald Clan warriors under his command.
"We are shooting, you know."
"Firing at the fortress is a waste. That bastard is from our clan as well—if an arrow lacks power, he just catches it and shoots it back."
"All we're doing is resupplying his arrows at this point."
Even the Heralds on Lantarik's side fired arrows at the fortress walls, but due to the height difference, their shots lost power and inflicted little damage.
Of course, if they used enchanted arrows, things would be different, but the Heralds here weren't truly loyal to Count Lantarik.
They had only formed a loose alliance based on mutual interest.
"That's why I recommended attacking after nightfall. If there was no time to wait and you insisted on launching a frontal assault in broad daylight, I advised sending in all your forces at once to end it swiftly."
As Nefti spoke, Count Lantarik fell silent.
Because Nefti's words were true.
Nefti had indeed given that advice. However, Count Lantarik had ignored it, boasting that this puny fortress could be taken down easily, and had sent in the battering ram troops separately.
He had thought it wasteful to send his entire army rushing at a small fortress just to hack down the gate with axes.
And now, this was the result.
The soldiers' morale had plummeted, and they had reached the culmination point of their offensive without achieving anything.
Nefti was subtly blaming the Count for this outcome.
'How dare you criticize me?'
The great noble Garnahair was not accustomed to criticism. However, the overwhelming strength of the Herald Clan was something he had come to feel keenly, and he could not afford to treat them carelessly.
"You shoot well. You're handling that bow alone, but it's as if you have ten archers firing at once. Just how many arrows can the Herald fire in a day?"
"About a thousand shots per day, with ease."
"A thousand shots? With such a strong bow?"
Even seasoned archers wielding the Ashwood Longbow would be utterly exhausted after firing about a hundred arrows in a day, to the point where they would be drooling from fatigue. But a thousand shots?
'Is that an exaggeration? No… if it's true, then no matter how many troops we throw at them, it'll be tough. We'll need catapults to make this siege possible! But… it's not even a proper fortress, just a military outpost.'
Originally, this was nothing more than an insignificant stronghold that didn't warrant the use of siege engines. But with the master archers of the Herald Clan occupying it, the outpost had turned into an impregnable fortress.
'That guy had a reason for negotiating so confidently, offering to open the gate.'
Garnahair had no choice but to acknowledge that he had made a miscalculation.
"For now, let's wait until nightfall. Then, our clan will infiltrate the fortress and take care of it from within."
"Infiltrate?"
"That kind of fortress wall is something we can climb as if it were level ground."
"Hm… fine. I'll withdraw the troops. There's no point in launching another charge if all we'll do is waste our forces."
If the archers had exhausted themselves after firing forty or fifty arrows, then overwhelming them with sheer numbers could have worked. But if they could fire a thousand shots before tiring, then wave attacks were meaningless.
"Then, may we also withdraw and rest? We need to conserve our strength if we are to move by night."
"Do as you wish."
Though Count Lantarik was displeased, he granted them permission to rest and pulled back his forces.
***
Yaravin, a young man of the Herald Clan, was a servant of Nefti. He had given up on becoming a servant, instead independently pursuing commerce and intelligence work under Nefti's banner. He held deep dissatisfaction with the structure of the Herald Clan.
He had the skills necessary to become a servant, but he had been forced to choose servitude instead—his impoverished family needed him to provide for them. Without the income from his trade, his siblings and sickly parents would have starved to death.
But even so, he was a man skilled in wielding the Dual Immortal Bow and versed in the grimoire Beauty of Nature. He prided himself on being more than a match for any lower-ranked herald, and in truth, his abilities lived up to that claim.
That was why, when Arael rejected the traditional order of the Herald Clan and sought to establish a new structure, Yaravin had felt an uncontrollable surge of joy.
And he was not alone. Every herald under Nefti's command had been discontent with the old order. It was only natural that they would rally under Arael's banner.
"Hehe… that count is getting exactly what he deserves."
Yaravin couldn't help but revel in Count Lantarik's humiliation. He didn't particularly like Azadin, but Azadin was still an Aragasa. Seeing a Hubris noble—who had always looked down on the Aragasa—disgraced like this filled him with satisfaction. The Aragasa held deep-seated resentment toward the Hubris nobility.
"Don't get carried away. He's a client, after all."
Nefti stopped Yaravin and stood up. The soft moonlight glided over her sleek, panther-like frame.
She was a strong and captivating figure. Acquiring the rank of 75th Herald at such a young age, without any significant backing, was not something that could be attributed to luck alone.
"Well then, shall we climb that fortress? Everyone, stay sharp. Azadin is no pushover. I've exchanged blows with him—he's got considerable skill."
"But wasn't he injured?"
"I find it hard to believe that Azadin has become such a formidable warrior."
"He looked injured, but that could just be a ruse. Stay vigilant. They say Kazas Haeseo is specialized in assassination."
Even Nefti wasn't entirely sure what Kazas Haeseo truly was. However, she knew that Elder Kazas had not been born an Aragasa, meaning he had not been naturally gifted with the Beauty of Nature grimoire. And yet, through sheer effort, he had mastered it in his own way, making his techniques lethal and destructive.
If Azadin had learned that, they could not afford to be careless. And now, they had to climb the fortress walls.
"The support team should prepare their arrows below, while we select the strike team. Who's going up?"
"I'll go."
Yaravin volunteered himself.
"I'll stay below."
Kahsan, who had been injured after being thrown by Azadin, was in no condition to climb, so he declared that he would provide cover fire instead.
"Alright. Yaravin, you and I will ascend. Kahsan, Nema, Kodanus—you three provide covering fire from below. What about the scout team?"
A servant called Nema was casting reconnaissance magic, scanning the airspace above the fortress and surveying the surroundings.
"There are no lights on the fortress walls. The sentries are positioned behind the barricades, looking down."
"They're watching below? That means they anticipated this."
From the way the sentries were concealed behind the walls and looking downward, Nefti deduced that Azadin was wary of a night raid—that he had specifically anticipated that the Herald Clan would scale the walls.
"It could be a trap. Should we retreat?"
"No. We mocked the count earlier—if we back down now, his patience will run dry. We have to break through."
"Even if there's a trap?"
"That's what we do, isn't it?"
Nefti flashed a confident smile.