The Shadowed Legacy of the Soulless Messenger [EN]: Chapter 210

Because Azadin and Araiel were the children of the traitor Acre, even when they criticized the Herald clan’s bad habits and old ways, their words were often dismissed, and they were always at a disadvantage in arguments. In this situation, the support of Midiam of the Etar bloodline was a great help. However, Sion Etar, unable to win against Midiam with words, had resorted to a sneak attack. Azadin brushed off the ambush, his fury rising.

“Since you can’t win with words, you resort to force!? You should be ashamed!” he exclaimed.

Even at those words, Sion’s expression remained calm. “Sometimes, even if it means using forceful measures, there are times when you must guide a child in the right direction.”

“Who guarantees that you’re right?” Azadin challenged.

“Many respected elders of our clan do. Who guarantees that you are right?” Sion countered.

“The cries of mothers who have lost their children! The blood of the common people that stains the drains of this city!” Azadin retorted, his voice filled with passion.

Sion Etar remained unmoved by Azadin’s answer. However, the other Herald clan members were different. They felt a pang of shame at Azadin’s words. From the start, they had been dragged along by Sion Etar like cattle being led to a slaughterhouse. Their hearts had already been wavering since the Nagas began massacring and destroying the city, and Azadin’s bold statements and Midiam’s appeals had pierced their consciences. However, as long as Sion Etar stood firm as an elder, they felt compelled to stop Azadin.

Azadin gripped his axe-spear short, holding it like a tonfa [a short, handled weapon]. His intention was to subdue his own people without killing them, if possible. But could he really subdue them safely by wielding this? The question lingered in his mind. It was then that a staff flew in with a sound that tore through the wind. It had the elegant shape of a scepter, thicker from the handle to the end. Grimsroan’s staff had returned.

‘Ah.’ Azadin smiled inwardly as he saw the staff return to him. When Azadin lost his hand, was defeated, and imprisoned, Grimsroan’s followers had taken the scepter, their treasure. However, the true owner of that staff was still Azadin. From the moment Azadin later woke up and commanded the staff to return to his hand, the staff had already abandoned the cultists of Grimsroan, who had fled far away from Btooma, and had been flying towards Azadin, finally arriving now.

“It came back just when I needed it,” Azadin murmured. He controlled Grimsroan’s staff, making it spin in the air. He sent it forward, quickly rotating and transforming into a shield of light.

“What is that?” someone asked, bewildered.

“Is it a magic weapon?” another wondered.

“He’s quite skilled!” a third exclaimed.

The Aragasa retreated, avoiding Azadin’s attack. ‘They react completely differently from ordinary soldiers. Ordinary soldiers would be too busy getting hit to think,’ Azadin noted. The Herald clan members, not only the Heralds but even the servants, were all masters of martial arts, so they wouldn’t be easily defeated. However, for those who lacked motivation, it was also a good excuse.

“What are you doing?” Sion Etar rebuked those who were intentionally distancing themselves from Azadin.

“No, it’s the first time I’ve seen something like that,” one of them replied.

“We were avoiding it,” another added. They all made excuses and hesitated.

“Fine. Then…” Azadin wanted to quickly defeat Sion Etar and free the Herald clan members who were fighting without any will. But seeing that, Araiel warned him.

“No, Azadin! Ignore Sion and go to the castle!” she urged. If they attacked Sion now, Sion would hide behind his subordinates, and they would be drawn into a terrible war of attrition. It was a short statement without a proper explanation, but Azadin understood what she was saying and retreated. However, as Azadin retreated, Sion stepped forward and began to take the reins of the attack. ‘He’s not easy to deal with,’ Azadin thought. As expected of the prestigious Etar bloodline. His ability to command people was extraordinary.

Including the Naga army, the undead, and the Nether’s followers they had brought, there were over a hundred monsters swarming in this area. With the Aragasa also present, it was practically a death sentence for Araiel and Azadin’s group of about ten people. However…

“Now, those who have ears, cover them! If you don’t want your souls stolen by the language of darkness!” Araiel began to chant in the Nether language. Then, eyes that sprouted from the shadows moved and blocked the Naga undead approaching from the rear. The Nagas were also using Nether’s followers, but they were of a different lineage than Araiel. The bloodline of the Storm King and the bloodline of the Eye King that Araiel used clashed, and a bizarre sound echoed. The terrible sound of tearing through the insides of the living made everyone tremble.

“Now is the time!” The Four of Hwajopungwol [a group of skilled warriors] took advantage of the opening created by Araiel and quickly moved across the area towards the fortress. The Aragasa in the fortress tried to stop them, but the reputation of the Four of Hwajopungwol was by no means empty. Seraph and Aleph swung their swords, breaking through the front lines, and Zenith spread a poisonous fog, forcing the enemies back. As Dimia cast a spell, vines grew, forming stairs and ladders to easily create a path, and in other places, she created thorny vines to block the enemies’ advance. Their skills were truly amazing. As Azadin, who only imitated Hwajopungwol in Kazas, he was envious of their outstanding abilities.

“Where’s Araiel?!” Azadin turned to look at Araiel, and she was actively using Nether magic. She was uttering terrible words that humans could not comprehend and summoning Nether monsters, but each time, a part of her body tried to transform into a Nether monster. Each time, Araiel was cutting off her own flesh with an obsidian dagger to prevent the transformation.

“What are you doing, Azadin? Go quickly! Even if it’s me, I can’t stop this army alone… ptoo!” Araiel spat out blood again. Every time she used Nether magic, her body was damaged. But if she didn’t use Nether magic, she couldn’t stop the hundred or so Heralds and servants, and the three times as many Nagas and undead, and the Nether’s followers summoned by the Nagas.

“Kuh!” Azadin, seeing Araiel’s struggle, quickly took Midiam and Ishmael and crossed the area. Midiam and Ishmael, who were less skilled than the Four of Hwajopungwol, kept falling behind, so Azadin had to protect them. Deflecting the arrows that poured down like rain and enduring the magic with his unique magic resistance, Azadin also crossed the fortress.

“Araiel!” he called out.

“Got it!” Araiel also turned her body and flew across the area, breaking through the fortress. Her movements were like a swallow cutting through the surface of the water. However, Araiel’s condition was far from good. Her whole body was covered in blood. Not from being attacked by enemies, but from the price of using the power of the Nether.

“Hoo. Is everyone safe?” she asked, panting.

“Yes!” they replied.

“……” Azadin stared at Araiel, who was covered in blood.

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine soon,” she reassured him.

“Soon? You?” Azadin questioned, his voice laced with concern.

But surprisingly, it was true. The wounds from the flesh she had cut off with the obsidian dagger were healing quickly before Azadin’s eyes. It was similar to the green magic that Sharty used.

“Hoo. See?” Araiel said, showing him her healed skin.

“Are you sure you’re okay? The wounds have healed on the surface, but it seems like you’ve used a lot of energy,” Azadin observed.

“That’s why I need you, Azadin,” she replied.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Azadin. You are the one who will kill the leader. I will open the path to there. But you must kill the leader,” she declared.

“That’s absurd. Please leave that to us,” Indim of the Moon flared up.

“Killing the leader is the greatest honor! Even if Azadin is Araiel’s younger brother, he hasn’t contributed much to us, so giving him such glory is wrong,” Indim argued.

Araiel smiled bitterly at Indim’s claim. But then, Azadin felt a chilling sensation, as if his hair was being pulled. The Emperor’s voice warned him. [It’s dangerous! Azadin! They’re coming from the castle!]

“What?!” Azadin exclaimed.

At that moment, birds flew up all at once from the trees near the royal castle. The Emperor’s voice, in a hurry, possessed the surrounding birds and formed a barrier with their bodies. -Thud! The birds’ feathers scattered in the rain.

********* The leader, Hatir, was not just waiting in the royal castle. They knew that Azadin and Araiel’s group were approaching and went out to intercept them directly. However, even though they used expensive black steel arrows, they did not expect the Emperor’s voice to mobilize and protect them. Having lost the element of surprise, Hatir, along with the elders, left the royal castle and met Azadin’s group. Then, black steel arrows flew towards the elders. Azadin’s group had counterattacked the elders with the black steel arrows that had fallen on the ground, and with the black steel arrows they had brought with them.

“Sanctuary Deployment!” Hatir used the king’s magic. He used the power of white magic that came from the King’s Church, which served the God King Yaegas…

“White Cedar Under the Moon!” He used the magic of Hwajopungwol…

“……” He used the Nether language to block all the incoming black steel arrows. As both sides approached, having exhausted all their black steel arrows, the distance between them narrowed enough for them to see each other.

“It’s laughable to hear you. To think that you are discussing my life,” Hatir said, a bitter smile on his face as he looked at Araiel and Azadin’s group, who had dared to come to kill him. He had placed a considerable number of his clan in the area, but he did not expect them to leave so many black steel arrows behind. Originally, they should have exhausted all their black steel arrows and stood before him, battered and bruised from the continuous fighting. Yet, the fact that they were so unharmed was proof that the clan members were not following his orders and were intentionally slacking off. ‘The common are hopeless,’ Hatir thought.

It was when Hatir thought that. “Azadin…” Kazas, an elder standing next to Hatir, frowned as he saw Azadin, who had recovered his hand and returned.

“You’re quite skilled. To restore your hand. As expected, cutting off one arm won’t stop you,” Kazas said, his voice tinged with a hint of admiration.

“Master,” Azadin replied.

Azadin’s group was able to avoid the black steel arrow barrage thanks to the Emperor’s voice. These arrows were shrouded in darkness in the air, making them difficult to see, and they revealed their presence as they approached their target. A perfect surprise attack. It was an attack that even the Herald clan members could not predict, but they were able to avoid it thanks to the Emperor’s voice.

“Why? Master?” Azadin asked, his voice filled with a mix of confusion and hurt.

“What are you talking about?” Kazas replied, his brow furrowed.

“Why is it that you are willing to kill me for Hatir? Am I worth so little to you?” Azadin openly questioned him. Like a child suffering from favoritism questioning their parents, asking why they love others more than him. It was a strange experience for Kazas. ‘He wasn’t like this before,’ Kazas thought. Azadin was a child who always considered what was given to him as excessive. He would humbly accept the grace of Aldis, the teachings of Kazas, as if they were not his own. Perhaps it was because he had been abused by others and had lowered his own status and bowed down. But now, Azadin was demanding it with dignity. That he deserved to receive his master’s love. ‘That’s right. My disciple,’ Kazas thought. Azadin was a beloved disciple to him. However….