The Shadowed Legacy of the Soulless Messenger [EN]: Chapter 185

A corpse was hanging on a pier near the Banema family’s estate. Unlike other plantations that engaged in human trafficking, the Banema family was known to pay proper wages, attracting workers who had escaped from other farms. However, someone had murdered these workers and hung them on the crane.

“Those filthy Syndicate bastards!” Randa Banema was genuinely outraged by the death of these people. It was a consequence of her actions. Of course, the Syndicate was responsible for the killings, but she hadn’t realized the repercussions of her reckless actions would be this severe. Randa Banema felt as if their deaths were her responsibility, which only fueled her anger and sorrow.

“Madam Banema, what should we do?”

“Take the body down. And give each of their families a sack of rice and beans, a basket of dried fish, and eight silver coins as a condolence to help with the funeral arrangements.”

“This is definitely the work of those other plantation owners. They’ll kill us all if we stay like this!”

“We need to retaliate first!”

“Open the armory! And use the money to hire mercenaries!” The workers shouted, agitated. But Randa Banema remained calm.

“Don’t be foolish. Do you want us to go to war with all the other plantations? Wait. I’ve called someone who specializes in this kind of thing.”

As she spoke, a small boat docked at the pier. A masked young man stepped off the boat and approached Randa Banema.

“Are you the petitioner?”

“Judging by your words, you must be from the Messenger Clan?”

“That’s right. I am Azadin, the Second Messenger of the Emperor.”

“Hmm. Since yesterday, eight people claiming to be from the Messenger Clan have come. Are you the real one?”

“What?” Azadin was taken aback by the unexpected statement.

‘There were imposters of the Messenger Clan?’

‘There have been some before, but usually, they just brag when they’re drunk or when a con man is threatening someone. There have never been imposters who come looking for a petitioner.’ As Azadin looked bewildered, Madam Banema gave a wry smile.

“It’s a distraction tactic from the other plantation owners. So, take off that mask. I’ll judge after seeing your face.”

“…This thing? It’s not a pretty sight, you know? But I’ll take it off.” Azadin removed his mask.

“Huh?” Madam Banema was startled. Where his eyes should have been, there was a large scar on Azadin’s face.

“You don’t have eyes? But you can still see?”

“I was born with this ability. I guess I showed you something unpleasant.”

“It seems you are a real Messenger, for now.”

“I’m glad you believe me. I was about to show you my archery skills if you didn’t.” Azadin put his mask back on.

“You can shoot a bow without eyes?”

“If I couldn’t, I wouldn’t be a Messenger. So, shall we go somewhere a bit more private? This isn’t a conversation to have in a crowded place.”

“Very well.” Randa Banema called her servants. Armed men surrounded Azadin and his group.

“Now, I’ll guide you.” It was more like an escort than a guide.

********* Thus, Azadin and his group were led by Randa Banema’s servants to the arena. This arena was a pit called the ‘Pit,’ with sand on the bottom, surrounded by wooden planks, and spectator seats arranged around it, looking down from above.

“This place is…?”

“Usually, we hold dog fights here, and sometimes people fight each other. You might know it as the Butuma Brawling matches?” Randa Banema said, looking down at Azadin and his group. She was standing in the VIP section of the arena, which was significantly higher than the arena floor where Azadin and his group were. Jiswa felt uneasy at her imposing presence.

“What if that woman has bad intentions?”

“Then that’ll be her death day. Haven’t you seen our boss fold those thugs’ spines backward?” Scott, trusting in Azadin’s abilities, yawned and lay down on the ground. He was trying to conserve and recover his stamina and mana.

“It doesn’t seem like you requested the Messenger Clan in a very welcoming atmosphere. So, let’s hear the details of your petition. I have a rough idea, but I want to hear it in detail.”

“It’s a long story, but I’ll try my best.” Randa Banema told Azadin about how she inherited the plantation, changed the way the business was run, and how the surrounding plantations started attacking her because of it.

“Ah, so that’s why those imposters claiming to be from the Messenger Clan came to you? Then, there must be a traitor among those who were present when you made the petition with the Emperor’s gold? Because your competitors know about your petition.”

“That’s right.” Randa Banema nodded at Azadin’s words. Currently, she is supported by the plantation workers who were freed thanks to her and the plantation workers who support her because of the higher wages. However, with so many people, there are bound to be traitors and spies among them. She couldn’t even guess how many traitors there might be among those who had served the Banema family since childhood. In this situation, the only ones she could trust were the Messengers summoned by the gold petition.

“I’ve heard that the big plantation owners in Butuma have money like the stars in the night sky. Have you thought about hiring adventurers?”

“I have money, but fighting with it is foolish. They have more money than I do. I can’t even hire a tinker to fix a pot, so would sellswords come to me? The only good thing is that they already have so many private soldiers that they don’t need to hire sellswords. They have enough power to crush me to death.”

“So that’s the situation? Hmm. I understand.” Azadin nodded.

“But you studied at the Knight Order of Salvation?”

“I received training as a holy knight in Saint Mallory on the Hybris Peninsula. My mother was a concubine. Originally, this plantation was supposed to be inherited by my half-brother, but he died of a venereal disease, so I returned from being a holy knight.”

“You were a Knight of Salvation? That’s a bit enviable.” Azadin’s eyes lit up when he heard that Randa Banema was a Knight of Salvation.

“Hmph. Knight of Salvation? They’re just useless trash. There’s a reason why they always lose to the holy knights of the King’s Church. But you’re envious? What do you mean by that?” At that moment, Jiswa happily spoke to Azadin.

“I was worried about wasting time on this petition, but it’s great that the petitioner is a plantation owner from Bel Hoda. Master. The plantation owners of Bel Hoda are richer than most nobles. Gaining their support would be a great help in carrying out the Way of the Azure Sky.”

“The Way of the Azure Sky? You’re from the Messenger Clan, right? Are you perhaps a member of the Azure Sky Sect?”

“I also happen to be a Taoist of the Azure Sky Sect.”

“How did that happen?”

“In addition to that, I’m a believer in the Angelic faith. Since childhood, I’ve read stories about the three archangels who devoted themselves to humanity, and the heroic and virtuous knights of the Knight Order of Salvation. I said I was envious because I wanted to be a Knight of Salvation too.”

‘…Is this guy really a Messenger? A strong sense of distrust is rising in me?’ As Randa Banema began to distrust Azadin, Azadin loosened his bow and strung it. Randa Banema’s guards were startled.

“Y-you bastard! What are you doing?” They aimed their crossbows and bows at Azadin.

“It seems like you don’t trust me after my last statement, so I thought I’d show you a little trick.” Azadin said, then quickly shot an arrow.

“What?!” Randa Banema’s surprised guards also shot their arrows, but something even more surprising happened. The arrow that Azadin fired accurately hit and knocked away the arrow that Randa Banema’s guard had on his bowstring. Moreover….

Azadin deflected the arrows flying at him from the front, and he used his clothes to deflect the arrows coming from behind. Due to the structure of the pit-like arena, even if arrows were fired from the spectator seats, the walls created blind spots unless you were in the center, so only the attacks from those on the opposite side could reach you. Azadin used those blind spots to deflect the incoming arrows, protecting his companions by himself.

“One arrow shot creates many. Good.” Azadin picked up the arrows that had fallen to the ground. The shooting that had just occurred was a dangerous situation where a normal person could have lost their life. In fact, Randa Banema’s guards were sweating profusely all over their bodies. But Azadin calmly picked up the arrows.

“M-Madam.”

“Stop. That guy is a real Messenger.” Randa Banema dismissed her doubts about Azadin.

“Then let’s have a serious conversation. Shall we decide on the specific scope of your petition?”

“Scope?”

“Yes. What do you want?”

“What do I want? Well, of course….” Randa Banema was at a loss for words.

“Do you want to annihilate your competitors and take over the entire Bel Hoda sugar industry? Kill the other plantation owners, massacre their families, and dispose of even the nursing babies so that no one can inherit?”

“That’s….” It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought about assassination. There was no answer with a direct approach. The sugarcane plantation owners of Bel Hoda often joked about this at drinking parties. ‘If you have money, you can even hire a nag.’ ‘We are the ones who choose the king of Butuma.’ It was common for drunkards to boast at drinking parties, but considering their wealth and power, it wasn’t just empty talk. It was impossible to deal with them formally, so she had thought about assassinating them, but even if she assassinated one or two plantation owners, their children would inherit, and the angry heirs would not leave her alive. But to kill all the heirs? Even the nursing babies? Then what was the point of Randa Banema freeing the slaves?

As Randa Banema hesitated to answer, Azadin sighed.

“You’re not saying you want that. You’re a troublesome petitioner.”

“Troublesome?”

“What you did, improving the welfare of the workers and rejecting the kidnappings, human trafficking, and slavery that were happening in this area, was a good and admirable thing. But it was also a declaration of war, a system war, to the other plantations here, forcing them to either follow your system or kill you.”

“…….”

“You declared war without being prepared to kill, which is why I said you’re a troublesome petitioner.” Randa Banema felt a bone-chilling pain at Azadin’s words. This stranger, who had just arrived in Bel Hoda, understood the situation of the plantation owners much better than she did, who was born and spent her childhood in Bel Hoda.