Azadin opened the fortress gates and sent all the guards and civilians outside.
"As soon as we step out, won't the Count's army just slaughter us?"
Everyone trembled in fear and doubt, but nothing happened when they stepped outside the fortress. The Count was too occupied battling the mysterious monsters and the suddenly appearing undead to worry about his rear.
The Herald Clan members and the Arael Faction, who were allied with the Count, were moving away to avoid Azadin, but they didn't seem inclined to join the Count's army immediately.
If they intervened when the Count's army was in crisis, it would serve as an excellent excuse for failing to capture the fortress.
'Ah, we were trying to take the fortress, but suddenly chaos broke out in the rear, so we came to rescue you. If it weren't for that, we would have captured the fortress.'
By making such an excuse, they could gloss over their defeat at Azadin's hands. The people stepping out of the fortress were bewildered to see the enemy forces pulling back.
"It, it's fine?"
"Y-yeah, just as expected."
"Amazing. So this is the Herald Clan? Incredible."
The soldiers were in awe of how everything was proceeding according to Azadin's plan.
As the sun set and the night grew dark, with only a faint moonlight, the people moved forward, guided by the shadows. It felt as if they were crawling through a tunnel with no end in sight.
The future was uncertain, and fear and anxiety tightened around their hearts. Yet, Azadin boldly forged ahead toward that uncertain future.
'This man is truly smart and wise. Did he really foresee all of this?'
'And this confidence—how can he be so sure of himself?'
As people gazed at him in reverence, Azadin turned to look at them.
'Well, I went ahead and did it, but… what is that? I thought releasing the seal of the copy of the Book of the Divine King would bring Sir Zekt chasing after us, but nothing happened? And what's with that undead army?'
In truth, Azadin was also caught off guard. However, if he showed any sign of panic or anxiety, the people who followed him would surely spiral into hysteria. So, he deliberately feigned composure.
"Well then, everyone, it's time to part ways. May the Archangel of the Trinity bless you."
"..."
When Azadin invoked the angels' blessings, everyone was shocked.
They had always considered the Herald Clan to be soulless heretics—monstrous beings who killed gods and worshipped the Emperor. But now, one of them had just uttered a blessing in the name of the religion they recognized—Salvation Knight Order and the faith of the angels.
'Is this man a follower of the angel faith? A knight of salvation? But a Herald Clan member following the angel faith? Does that mean he's not a soulless heretic?'
The prevailing belief was that the Herald Clan had no faith and no soul. They were seen as beings devoid of spirituality, capable of slaughtering the divine bloodline without hesitation.
To most people, faith was proof of one's soul. Since the Herald Clan killed divine beings without remorse, people had assumed they were soulless.
But if he was a follower of the angel faith…
He was not without a soul. If he had faith, then he had a soul.
'Now that I think about it, he saved us even though there was no benefit for him.'
'But why is he saying goodbye now?'
Azadin drew his sword from the saddle—not of a horse, but of a mountain goat—and pointed northward.
"Avoid Lantarik and follow the northern path. Once you reach the area controlled by the King's Church, you will be safe. My comrades and I will act as decoys to prevent the army from chasing you, so this is where we part ways."
"Ah!"
"That's dangerous."
"W-will you be alright, benefactor?"
Delmere asked with concern.
"I'll be fine. However, Shati, you must come with me."
"..."
Azadin was willing to let the others go, but he had to keep Shati. Since Azadin had specifically singled her out, Shati resigned herself to her fate.
"Alright. Fine. It's not like I could shake you off and escape anyway."
"Then once again, may the blessings of the angels be upon your path."
As Azadin elegantly bowed, the people withdrew, overwhelmed with emotion. However, one man remained behind.
It was Brand, Brass Knight.
"Sir Brand?"
"I will go with you."
"…What? You want to follow me?"
Azadin was taken aback by Brand's insistence.
'Hmm. What do I do?'
He liked Brand. In a cruel world, doing the right thing required a touch of madness.
'A person who chooses madness rather than yielding to the world's cruelty deserves respect, even if they are a lunatic. But I can't accept this request. He's not a warrior, just an old scribe. There's no way he could survive the journey ahead. I need to persuade him to stay behind.'
So, Azadin made an excuse.
"Sir Brand, I would like to entrust you with protecting these people during their escape. Who else but the great Sir Brand of Lantarik, renowned for his martial prowess, could ensure their safety?"
Azadin tried to coax him into joining the refugees. But Brand spoke up.
"First of all, I am not a knight. I was merely a scribe under Count Lantarik."
"..."
Azadin's face turned red with embarrassment.
'I thought he was out of his mind and tried to talk nonsense… how embarrassing.'
Brand cleared his throat.
"Ahem. I won't say that my mind is completely sound. You might not believe me, but I've regained a bit of clarity."
"Are you alright?"
"Of course… though, this truly feels like a nightmare."
Brand pressed his hands against his head, wincing.
"I can still hear the whispers of madness. My family was slaughtered and violated, and I…."
"Calm yourself. You say your mind has returned? Then why…?"
"I was Count Lantarik's scribe, privy to many of his secrets. So when I feared that the Count might have me silenced, I fled with my family. But then I was captured by that wretch, Doneor."
Brand turned to look at Azadin.
"That place was hell. You freed me from that hell, and I want to repay you somehow."
"Repay me?"
Midiam, who had been listening, was puzzled.
"To be honest, I used to despise the Herald Clan. But I never imagined that, in my darkest hour, it would be a Herald Clan member who saved me. I feel ashamed. I want to repay this debt, even if it costs me my life."
"A debt? What do you intend to offer? The hidden wealth of Count Lantarik?"
Midiam was puzzled. Brand had neither wealth nor a legendary sword in his possession. So how exactly did he plan to repay them?
"Do you know why the Herald Clan is aligned with Count Lantarik?"
"What?"
"What if I told you that the original plates used to mint the Emperor's gold coins still exist?"
"...!?"
"Huh?"
Midiam, Ishmael, and Azadin immediately grasped what the old man was implying.
"The Emperor's Mint?"
Among the Herald Clan, this was a story akin to legend.
The Emperor's gold coins were imbued with magic so intricate and powerful that they could not be carelessly counterfeited or reproduced. However, if the Emperor's Mint could be found and its secrets unraveled—
Not only could they mass-produce the Emperor's gold coins and free the Herald Clan from the curse of service, but they could also wield the Emperor's Voice and the Miracle of Petition at will.
Of course, finding and deciphering the copy of the Book of the Divine King to break the curse of service was crucial. The Book of the Divine King was the most powerful grimoire on the continent of Hubris, containing the secret to the power of the Yaegas Divine Clan. However, securing the Emperor's Mint was another invaluable objective.
"The Herald Clan would be interested in the Emperor's Mint, wouldn't they?"
"Are you saying the Mint is in Lantarik?"
"No… but there's a clue in Adirof."
Adirof was another territory owned by Count Garnahair Lantarik.
"I see. Then let's go together."
"Thank you."
Brand expressed his gratitude to Azadin.
"Then, Brand, get on."
Azadin helped Brand mount his mountain goat.
"Now, let's head to Lantarik."
"Lantarik? But that's dangerous."
"With the Count having withdrawn his army, now is actually the best time to move. The Count is likely attempting to massacre all the residents of Salasma right now, but you should be able to bypass the soldiers without much difficulty. Am I wrong?"
"Well, that is true."
"The clue to the Emperor's Mint is there."
"Understood. Let's go."
Azadin decided to follow Brand's lead.
'I wanted to figure out what kind of undead had attacked, but that'll have to wait.'
Now that he had accepted a non-combatant like Brand, he had to avoid battles as much as possible. With Brand riding his mountain goat, Azadin and his group set out toward Lantarik.
***
Azadin's party stopped near the Kora River. The pier for crossing the river was already occupied by Count Lantarik's soldiers.
Since this was the bridgehead connecting Lantarik and Salasma, the Count had clearly stationed a substantial force and reliable commanders here. If this place fell, Lantarik would lose access to its supply lines, and the Count would be isolated in enemy territory.
"We should rest here for now, Shati."
"Why do you call me like I'm your house pet? I've lived longer than you. Call me Lady Shati."
"Do you have a death wish?"
Midiam placed a blade against Shati's neck, making her swallow hard.
"Shati, heal Azadin's wounds."
"Ah."
Zebeck was curious to see how Shati would perform the healing. Just then, Brand spoke up.
"Do you know of the Prophecy of Jupiter?"
"That is a heresy forbidden by the King's Church."
Zebeck let out a sigh. The Prophecy of Jupiter was a doomsday prophecy, something only madmen spoke of.
The prophecy claimed that when the Era of Jupiter arrived, the King's Church would lose its power, and an ancient evil that had roamed this land even before the Kurt Divine Clan would awaken.
Of course, since it was a direct insult to the King's Church, no sane person would ever utter such words.
"To be precise, the prophecy states that when the Era of Jupiter comes, the ancient masters submerged beneath Netherstrom will return, the light of the king's virtue will wane, and even the radiance of the Archangel of the Trinity will fade. It is a prophecy not only against the King's Church and the light of the king's virtue, but also one that forewarns the weakening of all sources of white magic in this land."
Zebeck's gaze sharpened at Brand's words. Was he supposed to tolerate this, even though it insulted not only the King's Church but also the angel faith of the Salvation Order?
"That is heresy. Only lunatics would utter such nonsense."
"No, it is the truth. The light of the king's virtue is already fading."
"...!"
At that moment, Zebeck, who had appeared exhausted, suddenly widened his eyes. His rage burned so intensely that it seemed like flames would erupt from them and incinerate the old man before him.
Yet, Brand did not so much as blink under Zebeck's murderous glare.