Chapter 76: Chapter 76

After picking up the sword dropped by the assailant, Ran tossed it lightly upwards before grabbing it again firmly. Gripping the hilt, he immediately threw it as if casting a javelin.

The sword flew straight and lodged deeply inside the hood of another assailant.

The assailant's body collapsed backward helplessly.

The ambush was over in an instant. Only then did the remaining two assailants grasp the situation. They drew their weapons.

With a "buzz buzz" sound, a hand axe embedded itself in the side of another assailant's head. The hand axe had flown in from the bushes. The impact was as solid as the sound suggested.

The last remaining assailant opened his eyes wide. His companion had been struck right before his eyes. As the companion's body floated up and was shoved aside, the assailant's sight was cleared.

He caught a glimpse of the man rushing toward him.

In the man's pupils, golden light swirled.

The assailant's head spun in the air several times before dropping to the ground with a thud.

The people who had been captured couldn't even process what had happened. By the time they came to their senses, corpses were lying scattered all around.

The boy, habalde, swallowed a belated gasp in shock. His face turned pale as he locked eyes with the man wiping blood from his blade.

There was a rustle in the bushes. Habalde, on the verge of tears, stared in that direction. Another man was stomping out, breathing heavily.

"Damn it! After what you told me, you go and act on your own?"

"You killed them all! You should've left at least one alive!"

Ran had nothing to say in response. From the moment the assailant had mentioned Quersa, he'd lost his composure.

Tascar, flushed with anger, kept arguing. Ran averted his gaze and let out a sigh toward the sky.

"P-please, spare us. P-please?"

A man crouched beside Habalde pleaded with a trembling voice. He kept glancing between Ran and Tascar.

The others also desperately pleaded for mercy. It wasn't gratitude for being saved—they were trembling as if facing a new terror.

"We don't intend to harm you. But you're going to have to answer some questions."

Tascar cut their ropes with his hand axe.

Ran helped too, feigning indifference while calming his nerves inside.

None of the captives could even get to their feet; they just knelt awkwardly, eyeing the pair warily.

"I am Tascar of the Sabertooth Tigers."

Tascar crouched in front of them.

All their faces paled at once.

"Sa—Sabertooth Tiger?"

"The master of Ortega!"

They hurried to bow their heads in obeisance. Tascar waved them off.

"This isn't the time for formalities. Which tribe are you from? And just who the hell are those guys? How are people like them even in this land!"

The people flinched in fright, glancing at each other uneasily.

The man kneeling directly before Tascar took a deep breath and opened his mouth.

"We're of the Antlered Deer tribe. Those men are Black Priests. Warrior of the Sabertooth Tigers, don't you know them?"

Ran, standing behind Tascar and watching, opened his eyes wide.

The man glanced briefly at Ran before looking away. He continued, his voice trembling with fear.

"That's what everyone calls them. From what I hear, the north has already all but fallen into their hands, and they'll be coming down south soon too."

"Th—the Northmen who believe in the imperial faith have taken Ortega??"

Furrowed brows appeared not only on the man but on the others as well. It was clear they had no idea where to begin explaining, and the fact that they had a mysterious imperial among them made them all the more uneasy.

"Until recently, tascar here was being held prisoner in imperial territory. I met him there. So he doesn't know much about the current situation here. Who are the Black Priests, who's their leader, and how did they end up brainwashing Dakir's descendants?"

Everyone's expression shifted in different ways. They were surprised at the imperial speaking fluent Northlandic but also relieved he didn't seem likely to hurt them.

After a moment's thought, the man explained calmly.

"To be honest, we're just a southern nomadic tribe, so we don't know the details of what's going on up north. But I did hear once that the master of Ortega had been replaced by the Snow Leopard tribe."

Tascar's eyes widened. This update ıs available on NoveI-Fire.ɴet

"Snow Leopard tribe?"

"Yes. Apparently, they were part of the alliance that drove out the Sabertooth Tigers? I—I'm not sure of the details."

The man glanced at Tascar and continued.

"The Black Priests were originally warriors from that same Snow Leopard tribe. And strictly speaking, they don't actually believe in the imperial faith. They call Dakir the Father God and Asriel the Mother God and worship them. Since they've suffered so much under a harsh father, now they cling to the mother for healing, or so they say."

After learning Zima's true identity, Ran had thought nothing could ever shock him more.

That belief was shattered completely.

"W–why, why do this? Why suddenly force people to believe in Asriel?"

"Yes, yes. They move in small groups, preying on weak nomadic tribes like ours. If you say you'll believe, they take you somewhere—but that's all we know. If you resist until the end..."

The man trembled violently. He had once accidentally witnessed another tribe being executed by the Black Priests.

The Black Priests had sprinkled blood dripping from severed heads onto the Holy Church's sacred relics.

His gaze wandered to the fallen head of a Black Priest. Rage flickered in his eyes.

"? They're definitely trying to erase all traces of Dakir. Calling Dakir the Father God is just a ploy to assuage people's guilt."

Tascar hung his head. He recalled fighting the tribal alliance before escaping to Astana Mountain.

No matter how hard he tried to remember, there hadn't been a single seditious group following Asriel among the alliance.

Unless they'd been cursed as a group, it was inconceivable. Tascar felt a humiliating sense of being invaded by foreign powers.

The voice from above sent chills down their spines.

Tascar looked up at Ran. Ran was like another person entirely now. There was even a chill emanating from him.

"Who on earth is proclaiming Father Dakir and Mother Asriel? Is it the chief of the Snow Leopard tribe?"

"? As I said before, I—I don't really know the details."

The sudden silence was broken by the boy Habalde.

"I once heard that the leader of the Black Priests is near Aburota!"

Ran and Tascar turned to look at Habalde at the same time. Cowed by their intense stares, habalde shrank back, squeezing his shoulders in.

Ran deliberately lowered his voice.

"By leader, do you mean the chief of the Snow Leopards?"

"N-no. The one who first spread that strange ideology. That person is probably the one commanding the Black Priests."

The Antlered Deer tribesmen gradually regained their composure. They began preparing to depart.

Ran and Tascar had nothing more to ask. In truth, they had nearly lost the words to speak.

The man who'd explained as best he could gave Tascar a deep bow.

"Thank you again. Please be careful, warrior Tascar of the Sabertooth Tigers."

"Have you heard any rumors about other Sabertooth Tiger warriors?"

"A few times. But..."

The man's lips parted. Bad memories seemed to come to mind.

"? It's probably best you don't hear about them."

The Antlered Deer tribesmen departed.

For a while, the two men stood in silence.

Before they knew it, dusk had fallen.

"Maybe this is for the best."

Ran looked up at the darkening sky and spoke.

"It's simpler now. We were heading to Aburota anyway."

"It must be a curse at work."

Tascar muttered. He found it hard to accept that Dakir's descendants could be seduced by Asriel.

To begin with, humans and gods aren't simply separate beings. Humans can only shape flesh, but it is gods who breathe soul into them.

A human without the blessing of a god is just an empty shell.

"The Northmen's souls are made by Dakir, the imperials' by Asriel, the demons' by Tarok, aren't they? Then how could you betray the god who made your soul?"

For Tascar, gods are not a matter of faith. They are an absolute presence, like parents—irreplaceable.

He stared straight at Ran.

"How about you answer for yourself? Am I wrong?"

"Humans are humans. Gods are gods."

Ran gave a bitter smile, not hesitating in the slightest.

He drew Nachal half from its sheath and gazed at his own face reflected in the blade.

"? And I am me, and you are you."

Ran looked within himself.

Seeing the atrocities of the Black Priests had made him angry. Angry enough to lose reason for a moment.

If Priest Cyrano had been here, he'd probably have acted the same as Tascar—not caring if it delayed their plans, he'd have sought to punish the culprits sullying the Lord's name himself.

Ran closed the scabbard. He now saw the world differently. His values had changed. It was that change that let him regain his composure.

Because of it, he was able to calmly try to see further, and deeper. His anger was no longer focused solely on the Black Priests' blasphemies.

"Tascar. To you, Dakir must be like a parent."

"Of course. More than that. Compared to the soul, the body is just a shell. The god who created the soul is much..."

"I don't have parents."

Tascar tilted his head. A human without parents to birth or raise him, or a god to worship—he wondered if such a rootless person could even exist.

"But I do roughly know how it feels when someone insults your parents."

Ran lightly punched Tascar's shoulder with his fist.

"I'm ready to fight now. Count yourself lucky."

In the Empire, insulting someone's parents is like a declaration of a duel to the death.

The two men returned to their group.

Several more days passed.

The party climbed a low hill. To imperial eyes, the exotic scenery of Aburota spread out in a panorama below.

It was about the size of a border village in the Empire, but even at a glance, the population density was high. The houses, made in round clay shapes, had straw piled atop them in place of thatched roofs. Low mud walls surrounded these houses.

"Is this where the Northland people live?"

Rev eagerly moved his quill pen over parchment, his desire to write overflowing.

Ran took one look at Rev, then subtly glanced at the rest of the party.

Everyone looked exhausted. The mood was nothing like when they'd just left the safe zone.

Ran looked away and asked Tascar,

"Which tribe rules that place?"

"Aburota belongs to no one. It's the land of freedom proclaimed by Dakir. The name Aburota even means 'gray'."

"I'm going in first."

Ran cut off Tascar and declared all in one breath.