Chapter 55 - The Darkness Of Salasma (2)

Perhaps it was because the soldiers had searched through this area once. There were footprints there. The clumsy search by poorly-trained soldiers had erased many potential clues.

“God, these punks, seriously. How dare they barge in and ransack the place?”

Tarki exploded in anger when he saw the signs of soldiers having trespassed into his mother’s house.

“Did anything precious like jewelry go missing?”

“Pro-Probably not. My mother had a simple taste, so she preferred ceremonial swords and armor to fancy jewelry.”

“They say a tiger can’t have a dog as its child. I guess that was a lie.”

Azadine made a remark that implied Tarki fell short when compared to Baroness Nort. Afterward, Azadine glanced around the room.

Overall, it was quite a modest house. Aside from its size and cleanliness, it didn’t exude the kind of feeling associated with the house of a noble. However, she still had to be exceptionally wealthy to have hired so many mercenaries for her son.

They soon came across something suspicious in the Baroness’ bedroom on the second floor. There was animal fur caught in the latch of the bedroom door.

“This.”

“Hmm.”

Azadine analyzed the fur attentively.

“It’s rat hair. Seeing that it was left behind here, the soldiers must have done a pretty negligent job when inspecting.”

It was clear from Tarki’s demeanor that it hardly took anything for him to blame the soldiers. Considering the kind of rage he went into just noticing the presence of soldiers inside a noble’s house, how could anyone expect them to investigate properly?

“You mean that’s rat hair? No way that-?”

Tarki was stunned to hear this.

“Could it be wererats? We’ll have to see how it reacts to silver.”

Azadine took out the arrow-making board that he used for applying wax. He ground a silver coin on it to create a fine silver dust and placed the fur on it. As soon as the silver powder made contact with the fur, it started to fray at the tips, resembling a burning reaction caused by silver.

“It really was a wererat.”

“Are you saying that a wererat kidnapped my mother?!”

Tarki was startled.

wererats.

Rat men were cursed creatures that served the authority of the Kurt Clan’s Rat King. Despite their unparalleled physical prowess compared to ordinary humans, they were typically greedy and violent. They took pleasure in feasting on human flesh.

If Tarki’s mother had been captured by them, the odds of her still being alive were almost non-existent.

“I don’t think there were just a few of them. Hmm?”

Azadine peered beneath the bed in her bedroom and saw a spider’s web.

“It’s a spider’s web.”

“Why is that there?”

“It’s an enchanted spider web. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Ah!”

Azadine’s words surprised Tarki. The mercenary captain who had manipulated him was also a demonic spider.

“Where….”

Azadine lifted the bed and saw a trap door underneath.

“It’s the second floor, yet there’s a trap door here?”

Azadine opened the trap door and noted it wasn’t an escape path. Instead, underneath was a small hollow space with a copper plate engraved with the symbol of Atra, the Spider Queen, inside.

“Your mother was a follower of the Kurt clan.”

“What? That’s impossible. My mother is a noble.”

“There are many among the nobility, and I’ve heard that the Spider Queen Atra is especially popular with noblewomen.”

While the people of Hubris held great faith in the Heavenly Kings, the divine beings of the Kurt Clan also existed in the past, slaughtering and devouring humans. Surprisingly, the Kurt Clan continued to attract followers in such a world. The Spider Queen Astra, for example, granted her followers powers to seduce and exert dominance over those of the sex.

They may be a threat to humanity as a whole, but they served immediate benefits to their worshippers. It was for this reason that they garnered an enormous number of supporters.

“But weren’t the ones who kidnapped my mother wererats?”

“They are. However, wererats serve Mezerry, the Rat King, instead of the Spider Queen. Hmm, the Kurt Gods also fight among themselves for some reason that I do not know.”

Azadine left the bedroom and headed towards the library.

“Huh?”

“Do you have something?”

“Wait.”

Azadine took off a portrait from a wall in the library, revealing a safe hidden behind it. He then used a lockpick to open it and retrieved some gold coins.

“Huh?!”

“The Emperor’s Gold Coins?”

Mediam and Ismail marveled at the sight. The Emperor’s Gold Coins were rare in general, yet there were as many as five of them inside the safe. Aside from that, other documents and treasures were also contained within.

“Your mother must have been a remarkable woman.”

Azadine said this and looked at the Emperor’s Gold Coins.

Although Azadine lacked materialistic desire in general, the Emperor’s Gold Coins were an exception. The number of coins he acquired would determine his ascent in the hierarchy of messengers as well as influence how much respect he received from the clans. Moreover, if he obtained them through a trade rather than a contract, their worth would surpass regular gold coins.

“Those from affluent families would pay a fortune for these.”

Possessing these gold coins allowed them to gain merit. They could have servants spend gold coins for the messengers they served in order to promote their service. By doing this, their value became unfathomable. Messengers from influential families could use them to shadily increase the ranks of their children.

“No, not this gold coin! But if you save my mother, I’ll give it to you.”

Tarki was well aware of how much value the Emperor’s Gold Coins held for the Messenger Clan. After all, their value was to the extent that Azadine acted unusually enough for Tarki to see an unreadable expression through his helmet.

Ismail then gestured to Mediam.

“Why don’t we kill him right now and take those coins away?

Ismail had communicated with his hand to ask if killing Tarki would be better.

“No.”

Azadine interrupted them.

“What?”

Tarki hadn’t seen Ismail’s hand gesture and was petrified to hear Azadine say no.

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“No, I didn’t mean that. I meant I understand. I won’t touch it. As a messenger, I have to uphold my dignity. How could I extort someone?”

Azadine smacked his lips, placed the gold coins inside the safe, and closed the door again.

“Since you’ve been dismissed, doesn’t that have nothing to do with your dignity as a messenger?”

Mediam commented about his dismissal without hesitation within hearing range of Tarki.

As they exited the mansion to search for more clues, Azadine found another inside the mansion’s well.

“The hem of a dress.”

A torn piece of a woman’s clothing was stuck between the crevices of the rock.

“Inside the well?”

“It’s dry at the bottom. There’s probably an underground passage here.”

“Then, will you go to rescue her?”

“Wait, we don’t know how many enemies there are.”

Azadine paused and stood there as he analyzed it objectively.

He could earn five gold coins if he rushed in and saved the Baroness, but that was only if he succeeded. Failure would only lead to his death.

It was dangerous to go in without information about their identity, numbers, or traps inside.

“Judging by the alarming frequency of disappearances in this area, the Kurts must have a considerable number of forces. Otherwise, they couldn’t have managed to abduct so many people.”

“So, what do you plan to do?”

“Be armed to the teeth.”

Azadine climbed out of the well and called his goat. He pulled out a chain and plate armor from the goat’s saddlebag.

“I don’t usually wear these because they’re heavy….”

Azadine quickly clad himself in armor and even equipped gauntlets and steel boots.

“I’ve never seen a messenger carry such armor before.”

The Emperor’s messengers typically preferred to wear light armor.

“That was why the mountain goat was loaded down with luggage. You were carrying this heavy equipment on it, which was why you walked with its reins instead of riding it.”

Mediam now understood why Azadine chose to walk instead of riding his mountain goat.

“Armor is ideal for narrow spaces. If you think you’d be faster with light armor while going into tight quarters, that could land you in trouble.”

Azadine donned his armor and tightened the rope on the well, ensuring he could climb out even if the well’s bucket broke. Once he was certain, he began his descent into the well.

Once at the bottom, Azadine looked around the dried-up floor. Indeed, there was a passageway on one side.

“Hmm.”

There was also fur on the floor.

“Ugh, I can’t see!”

At that moment, Tarki began reciting a spell from overheard. He was casting an ignition spell to light up his lamp.

“Can you see without light ?”

Instead of answering her question, Azadine simply picked up the fur. When he showed that he could examine the floor even before there was light, Mediam realized that he didn’t need light to see.

“It’s wererat fur. There are footmarks, too. I think this is the right direction.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Tarki arrived at the bottom of the well and shined his lamp on the floor as he looked for footprints. A chaotic assortment of footmarks was stamped on the soil.

“Let’s go.”

Azadine identified the direction that they were headed and began to walk. As they moved through the well, they could see the bottoms of other wells and noted that most of them also had footprints.

“Hmm?”

Along the way, Azadine spotted a trap. There was a string dangling at ankle level, with bells attached.

“What’s this?”

“Shhh.”

Azadine made sure there was complete silence. He assumed that someone was waiting within hearing distance if there was a trap with bells.

A bell trap would be pointless if left unattended. It would only be an alarm when someone came into contact with it.

Indeed, someone soon appeared in front of them.

“Huh?”

“Who’s there?”

Two refugees carrying torches stepped inside.

Azadine signaled Tarki to cover the tops of their lamps. The light went out, but it was already too late.

“Who’s there?”

“I think I just saw a light. I’m not mistaken, am I?”

“Who is there?”

As expected, they had been caught. Everyone in the group looked at Azadine, waiting for him to decide.

Azadine gestured to Tarki.

“Oi, try to scare them by telling them who you are . .”

“What? Me?”

Tarki understood what Azadine meant and stepped forward.

“Ahem. I am Tarki, son of the Count of Salasma!”

“Ah! Yo-you must be a knight.”

“What brings you here?”

The refugees were wary of Tarki after he revealed his identity.

‘That’s some really bad acting.’

Azadine couldn’t see any fear in their eyes. Instead, he saw resentment and irritation for one of the nobility. The wicked smiles that passed between them only made it certain.

“I should be asking that. What is your business here?”

“We’re just nomads looking for shelter.”

“Yes. We were looking for a place to stay, and somehow….”

As the conversation continued, Tarki’s lips curled into a sneer.

“My arse. You should hide the itching greed gleaming in your eyes before you speak, you damn wererats.”

“Ah.”

“Hahaha.”

The refugees began laughing.

“He’s asking for death, so there’s no need to hold back, is there?.”

“Let’s kill the men and eat the women!”

“Doesn’t make much difference, does it? Hihihi!”

The refugees curled up and began to transform.

“You bastards! What the hell did you do to my mother!”

Tarki lunged forward, swinging his sword to the head of one of the wererats in the middle of the transformation. It was the right move, as he expected they would be defenseless mid-transformation.

However, the wererat took out a mace from his clothes and blocked Tarki’s swing with extraordinary strength and speed.

“Ugh!”

How were they not defenseless while transforming! This first clash gave Tarki a jolt as the wererats possessed frightening strength.

“Hihihi! Scaredy-cat! I smell a coward!”

The wererats sensed that Tarki feared them.

“Let’s crush that lamp! The dark favors us!”

The wererats started their attack on Tarki, but…

-wedge!

An arrow lodged itself in the mouth of one of the wererats as it flew through the air with the sound of a piercing wind. Mediam had shot the arrow, piercing through the wererat’s protruding mouth.

The arrow pierced the root of his mouth and dug into his brain before escaping outside and sending the wererat staggering into a fall. It would be a fatal injury for a normal human, but the wererat didn’t die and was using all his strength to pull out the arrow.

“Uaah!”

In fact, Tarki was the one who let out a scream.