Shadow Oath

Chapter 12: Count Badio (1)

“Is it true that His Majesty is coming?”

Count Badio stormed into Terrdin’s tent.

“Though I called this meeting ‘urgent,’ it wasn’t necessary to rush here like this.”

Terrdin smiled as if accustomed to Badio’s behavior, but Adun, the adjutant, openly displayed his displeasure.

“Show some respect, Count Ril Badio.”

Badio ignored him.

Adun, after all, was merely a subordinate knight, while Badio commanded eighty such men in his own territory.

“If His Majesty arrives, I must meet him first.”

“Well, if you say so. But do you have a special reason?”

Terrdin’s casual tone made Badio’s blood boil.

“That’s because I’m the one who needs to settle the war expenses first!”

“Everyone in the royal court knows that you’ve made greater sacrifices than anyone else for this war.”

Badio was annoyed by Terrdin’s relaxed attitude.

Although Terrdin’s rank was higher during wartime as a general, in peacetime he was just a poor old man living in a modest house near the capital without any territory.

Thanks to the unending war, he remained in a perpetual state of superior rank.

‘I should have been the general in the first place!’

Ril Badio was not only the lord of the Norralin region but also the northern administrator during peacetime and the commander of border defenses during emergencies.

Thus, if a war against the Gerans erupted in the north, the total commander of Triton’s forces should naturally have been the lord of Norralin.

He was young and strong.

He had participated in numerous battles, excelling both in physical combat and strategic planning. Yet, the king’s choice had been General Terrdin.

‘Why does the king favor this penniless old man so much?’

Badio’s territory was located about 20 miles from the battlefield.

Although Norralin’s castle was much further south, its location forced it to handle all the supplies and garrison management for this war.

“There are rumors that the royal treasury is so depleted it may not be able to pay all wages. If funds are lacking, I must receive payment first. You, as the supreme general, must support me in this.”

Badio spoke with an almost commanding tone.

Terrdin responded with his usual indifference.

“That’s an important issue. Let’s see, Adun. How many troops did Count Badio bring?”

Adun recited the information without consulting any notes.

“Count Badio brought twenty knights in vassalage, along with their accompanying squires, totaling one hundred men. Among them, twelve have died, and eleven were injured and left mid-campaign. Currently, the remaining force stands at—”

Badio interrupted, finding Adun’s pace far too slow.

“I pay wages of over 100 nobles in gold each month. That’s even after reducing the amount by promising separate victory bonuses later.”

“Hmm, that’s quite a high expenditure given Norralin’s tenant farming income.”

Though Norralin was the fifth-largest territory in the Kingdom of Triton, it had little arable land.

Consequently, annual income from tenant farming rarely exceeded 500 nobles.

This meant that the wages for his war efforts alone far outstripped the income from tenant farming.

And the expenses from the previous winter had been catastrophic!

“Don’t forget last winter’s garrison costs.”

Badio emphasized.

When the troops had retreated due to the harsh winter, Terrdin’s entire army had been stationed in Norralin’s fort. While some soldiers were sent home and recalled in the spring, more than 2,000 men had to be fed for three months.

“Didn’t His Majesty send a certificate guaranteeing payment for that?”

“There’s no guarantee it can be collected. Rumors say the royal treasury is already empty from this war.”

Badio reiterated his point for emphasis.

Terrdin shrugged.

“Surely a certificate bearing His Majesty’s seal can’t be worthless?”

“If I were to sue His Majesty, would you testify for me?”

Terrdin laughed awkwardly, looking troubled.

“Well, if my testimony helps, of course.”

Badio grew uneasy at Terrdin’s words.

In Triton’s history, no lord had ever won a lawsuit against the king, as it was the king who ultimately rendered judgment.

Badio hesitated as if he’d run out of things to say before suddenly shouting.

“Why did you accept their surrender?”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“We won! If we won, we should have plundered them. We should have massacred the men and sold the women as slaves so they could never rise again.”

“Not this again? It’s a finished matter, so let it rest.”

Sure, to you, it’s a finished matter.

But not to Badio.

Other lords and knights, exhausted by the war, had agreed with Terrdin’s decision.

They wanted to receive their victory bonuses and overdue wages and return to their families.

And Terrdin, as though he were some magnanimous ruler accommodating everyone’s wishes, had peacefully accepted the barbarians’ surrender.

“You accepted their surrender without the king’s approval.”

“That, too, is a finished matter. When this war began, His Majesty granted me full authority. I joined under the condition that I could decide both the moments of victory and defeat.”

“Because of that, I’ve lost all means to recover my losses.”

“For the record, looting the Gerans’ villages wouldn’t have yielded much. Geran slaves are known to be disobedient and fetch low prices, and their land is too barren for farming. This war wasn’t started for profit but to deal with the pirates who kept raiding us.”

Badio knew that as well.

Then all the more reason to plunder them.

They are looters.

Their land is barren, so instead of diligently farming, they repeatedly raided southern lands for food and valuables.

This was the perfect opportunity to reclaim what they had stolen.

And yet, they let such an opportunity slip away?

‘I should have been the general.’

Last winter, while Terrdin retreated temporarily and stayed in his territory, Badio secretly sent a letter to the royal palace.

The letter was full of long-winded greetings, introductions, and flowery language, but its main point was simple.

‘Entrust the war against the Gerans to me, the lord of Norralin. The northern region of Norralin borders the land of the Gerans. Despite this, my territory has not suffered significant damage from Geran raids. That’s because I have been defending it so well. If there is war, I will handle it better. Entrust it to me now!’

Badio’s border troops weren’t directly engaging the barbarians in battle.

The large fortresses in the north discouraged any attempts at invasion, and the Gerans preferred raiding coastal villages by ship.

Nevertheless, the fact remained that he had successfully kept them at bay.

A short while later, a secret reply arrived from the royal court.

Its content was brief.

‘If Terrdin is defeated or killed, then do so.’

Badio interpreted the letter as permission.

‘Perfect! This is practically an order for me to become the general. I’ve put in so much effort, so it’s only fair that I achieve this much.’

Badio had regularly visited the royal court to assist the king, attended royal trials, and consistently bribed King Gallant.

He had also made more than generous donations to Archbishop Aikop’s sanctuary, offered women, and even men.

He did everything to prove his worth.

Thus, this short reply was a rightful reward for his efforts.

‘If this war doesn’t end before winter comes again, Terrdin is finished. I’ll send him off to retire and fish somewhere. The 3,000 soldiers I fed this past winter will become my army next year!’

Badio waited for winter to end, and then for another winter to come.

Finally, two weeks ago, during the battle at Tettar Crossing, when the fight ended inconclusively, Badio saw his chance.

Terrdin’s forces had lost their momentum entirely!

As someone who had lived his life on the battlefield, Badio could read the tides of war.

Even if Terrdin was hailed as a god of war, there was nothing he could do this time.

Adian Mantum forever!

‘Terrdin is finished!’

But then, unexpectedly, Mantum died, and the war abruptly ended.

Now, in the allied camp, there was a young barbarian child claimed to be Adian Mantum’s successor, held as a prisoner.

“Then, setting that aside, why is this so-called child of Adian here?”

Badio asked pointedly.

Terrdin replied with an expression that seemed to say, “Do I really need to explain this?”

“He’s a hostage for the upcoming surrender negotiations. Apparently, he can speak our language, so it’ll be convenient to discuss prisoner exchanges or the war compensation issue you’re hoping for.”

“What I mean is, he could be a spy.”

“A spy?”

“He might be pretending to surrender, only to ambush us later. At the very least, he could learn our army’s secrets. I’ve never heard of barbarians keeping their promises.”

‘Right, that spy might even be you, Terrdin. That mysterious death of Bloodstorm Axe, the Beast of War, the War God of the North—it’s suspicious.’

Badio had seen Mantum’s head but couldn’t confirm if it was really him.

It was already decomposed, and Badio had never seen Mantum up close.

The other knights said it was him, so he went along with it.

“Don’t worry about that. None of the soldiers have let their guard down despite the victory, and patrols are more frequent than ever.”

Terrdin’s reassurances were supported by Adun, who had been quietly watching their exchange.

“The enemy’s encampments have already been dismantled. The rumor about the seven tribes dispersing is true. The armies of the three tribes that surrendered to us have retreated to the rear. If they try to ambush us, they’d have to circle back nearly two days’ distance, and even if they do, our cavalry can immediately counter them in this wide-open terrain.”

Badio wanted to snap at Adun, “I already know that, you little brat!”

It was a redundant explanation, and there was nothing more to say.

Still, Badio couldn’t leave easily.

If he left now, it would seem as though he had come just to demand his money, so he wanted to give the impression he had more important matters.

“That boy I used to see isn’t here anymore?”

Badio glanced past Terrdin.

“My Shadow?”

“Yes. The young boy you always kept behind you recently, even when you accepted the barbarian chieftain’s surrender.”

Badio sneered.

‘Shadow? How ridiculous. Ancient kings supposedly called the invisible spirits guarding them “shadows.”

I thought you didn’t believe in superstitions or magic, but I guess you’re no different.’

At the same time, he felt envious.

He wished he had a bodyguard he could trust implicitly.

While he had plenty of vassals under oath, none were reliable enough to entrust his life.

Badio trusted no one.

He even divided the keys to his treasury among his wife, son, and steward when leaving for war, out of fear of relying on a single person.

“That boy is now attending to the Geran chieftain.”

“For what reason?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, how can such a low-ranking soldier attend to a barbarian hostage who holds the title of chieftain?”

“Because he knows the Geran language and has nothing else to do.”

Terrdin replied indifferently.

It sounded like a prepared answer.

‘Suspicious. This cunning serpent must be hiding something about this sudden victory.’

“There are plenty of commanders who speak the Geran language.”

Badio said.

Terrdin finally began to show open annoyance.

“If you mean Knight Jenabin, I had to assign him elsewhere urgently because of His Majesty’s arrival.”

I see.

“Understood. Oh, and one more thing!”

Badio turned as if leaving, then came up with an excellent excuse, a perfect conclusion that tied back to his initial statement.

“When His Majesty arrives, I will lead the welcoming party. I have the right to do so.”

Terrdin, clearly relieved to see Badio finally leaving, responded with a cheerful expression.

“Of course.”

As Badio left the tent, he growled inwardly.

‘One day, I will crush this old man!’