Shadow Oath

Chapter 15: The Axe of Mantum

The cavalry captain, leading the patrol, jumped off his horse without fully stopping it.

He stumbled slightly but managed to stand firm in front of General Terrdin to deliver his report.

“His Majesty’s army is setting up camp.”

Terrdin lowered the foot he had just placed on the stirrup.

“Where?”

“Five miles away.”

“They’re not coming now?”

“No, sir.”

“Did you ask them directly?”

“I spoke with Captain Clave of the Royal Guard. They plan to rest tonight and resume their journey tomorrow morning.”

Adjutant Adun approached with his horse and muttered to Terrdin.

“They could have arrived today if they pushed a bit harder. Is it that His Majesty doesn’t travel at night? Or is there some hidden meaning to this?”

Count Badio, standing behind them, exclaimed confidently.

“It must be a signal for us to prepare a grand reception!”

Terrdin, without much deliberation, replied.

“That seems plausible. Then, Count Badio, I suggest you organize an advance party yourself. If you’re there to greet His Majesty in advance, it’ll surely put him at ease.”

Badio, as if waiting for this moment, promptly responded.

“I’ll select only my knights to accompany me.”

“That will do.”

Terrdin then addressed Adun.

“There’s nothing to overthink, Adun. Consider this as extra time to prepare. Let the soldiers who can bathe by tomorrow do so, and arrange a formation to welcome His Majesty’s procession.”

“Yes, General.”

When the adjutant, the count, and other commanders dispersed, Terrdin quickly turned and handed his horse’s reins to Ram.

As Ram took hold of the reins, Terrdin whispered.

“You seem to have something to say. You’ve been restless since the meeting earlier.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Is it something private?”

“It is.”

Terrdin led Ram to a secluded spot where no one was around.

Even then, Terrdin spoke in a very low voice.

“Tell me what’s on your mind.”

Ram recounted in full the conversation he had earlier with Jedric.

He braced himself, expecting Terrdin to scold him for not reporting sooner.

However, Terrdin seemed intrigued, as though an exciting opportunity had presented itself.

“We’ll need to negotiate again. This must be settled before His Majesty arrives. Follow me.”

Just moments earlier, when heading out to meet the king, Terrdin had moved reluctantly, as if he were being forced.

Now, his movements were brisk and purposeful.

The first place Terrdin went was his own tent.

He entered alone and came out carrying a large chunk of metal.

Though it was wrapped carefully in a leather bag, Ram recognized it at a glance—it was Mantum’s axe.

Next, Terrdin headed to Jedric’s tent.

Jedric was sitting with his eyes closed, as though expecting Terrdin’s arrival.

He didn’t flinch even when Terrdin entered or slammed the axe down on the table as if beheading a prisoner.

Jedric’s expression showed only acceptance of the inevitable.

“I plan to present this axe as a victory gift to His Majesty Gallant tomorrow,” Terrdin declared.

Jedric replied calmly.

“The victor takes everything. While it pains me, I cannot object if that’s your decision.”

Jedric remained exceedingly composed.

However, his gaze wavered at Terrdin’s next words.

“But I could return it to you.”

Jedric and Terrdin locked eyes for a long moment.

It seemed as though each was trying to read the other’s mind.

“What’s the condition?”

Jedric asked, and Terrdin replied before the question was even finished.

“I’ve heard there’s a nobleman among the prisoners your men captured—someone who came here specifically to kill Mantum.”

Jedric glanced at Ram before replying.

“That’s correct.”

“Is he alive?”

“Most likely.”

“Most likely?”

“He was definitely alive before I came here. But now, I can’t be sure. The wounds from the wolf were not minor.”

“Let’s trade.”

“You want to negotiate?”

Jedric asked, bewildered, and when Terrdin nodded, he asked again to confirm.

“Why negotiate? If push comes to shove, you could hang me upside down and force us to fetch the prisoner. Is this person that important? Important enough to trade Mantum’s axe for?”

“If I give this axe to the king, he’ll keep it as the spoils of war but leave it buried in a storeroom, never to be seen again. But to you, it’s a family treasure. That noble child may mean little to you—a mere bargaining chip for some petty compensation. But to us, he’s invaluable. I’m willing to make the trade.”

“Invaluable?”

Ram couldn’t comprehend Terrdin’s words.

Until this moment, Terrdin hadn’t even known Zenri’s name.

Jedric asked,

“When?”

“Now.”

“Do you mean tonight?”

“Just say whether you’ll do it or not.”

From Ram’s perspective, there was no reason for Jedric to refuse.

Still, Jedric pondered for a long time, undoubtedly calculating whether there was some hidden trap.

“I’ll do it.”

As soon as Jedric spoke, Terrdin called out to a soldier outside.

“Bring pen, ink, and parchment.”

“Yes, General.”

While waiting for the soldier, Jedric spoke.

“We consider unexpected nighttime deals improper. I’ll write the letter, but it won’t be delivered or accepted.”

“That makes sense. Then how do we proceed? This must be concluded tonight. You figure it out.”

Jedric deliberated again.

“For the deal to proceed without suspicion, there must be sunlight. How about setting the time at dawn?”

Terrdin calculated something and asked back.

“What about just before sunrise? That way, by the time the exchange happens, the sun will have risen.”

“…Agreed. And to ensure there’s no deception, I’ll go in person.”

“The location?”

Terrdin asked swiftly, and Jedric answered just as quickly.

“The same as before.”

“Good. But…”

Terrdin added as if the thought had just occurred to him, though it was clear he had wanted to say it from the start.

“…What about the curse you mentioned? No one in my army has died horribly because of it.”

Jedric openly stared at Ram and replied.

“Do you think a curse is so simple as to end with just one person’s death?”

“Then, is killing one person supposed to be complicated?”

Terrdin threw the remark sarcastically and left the tent.

Ram followed him out but couldn’t bring himself to even look at Jedric in the final moments.

“The trade is at dawn tomorrow, so get some rest.”

Terrdin spoke and disappeared somewhere into the camp alone.

As allied patrols hurriedly delivered letters to Geran’s camp and returned with responses, Ram followed Terrdin’s orders and went to sleep.

The camp was bustling as many soldiers, unable to sleep, busied themselves with preparations for the significant event tomorrow.

Some brushed against Ram as they passed, but they either stepped aside quietly or apologized and moved on.

Surprisingly, word seemed to have been well-contained—most of the soldiers didn’t know that Ram had killed Mantum, let alone that he was an ordinary soldier.

Even the commanders were unaware. There wasn’t even a rumor about it.

The hood and helmet Ram wore seemed to work better than expected; even soldiers who had been in the same unit didn’t recognize him.

Moreover, most soldiers were low-ranking and wouldn’t have guessed that the “hooded and helmeted soldier” near General Terrdin had recently been fighting alongside them as a slave-soldier.

Ram’s tent was located on the outskirts of the camp.

It had been assigned to him after he became a Shadow.

Though small, it had a bed, which made Ram uncomfortable every time he entered.

Since coming to the battlefield, he had rarely slept in any sort of tent, let alone a private one.

Tents were reserved for soldiers ranked above commoners.

Those below that rank were given just a single blanket, left to sleep in the grass or on rocks as they saw fit.

The bed’s comfort felt so alien that it made him uneasy.

Lying in that comfortable bed, Ram stayed awake all night.

He couldn’t sleep, as his mind was preoccupied with Jedric’s talk of curses.

“The sorcerer cast a spell on you.”

No matter how hard he tried to forget, he couldn’t banish thoughts of the witch’s magic.

Ram didn’t even know her name.

To the villagers, she was called the “kind witch.”

To merchants, she was just an herbalist.

Her potions were so bitter they made people retch, so the children called her the “bitter medicine granny.”

“Kill her. Leave no trace of the murder, and burn the body.”

Baron Selkon had issued the order.

Her crime was spreading rumors about Selkon’s death across the village.

Ram didn’t know if she was truly guilty or if it was just hearsay.

When the order to kill was given, he simply carried it out.

Even if the target was a sorcerer, it didn’t change the rule.

There were rumors that she could turn people into frogs, but Ram wasn’t afraid at all.

Killing was about striking first, before the enemy’s weapon could reach you.

If you killed the sorcerer before their magic hit, they were no different.

But when Ram was sent to kill the witch, he felt doubt about killing for the first time.

“Does being a slave mean I have to kill just because my master orders it? Even if I don’t know if the person is guilty or not? No, even if they are guilty, do I have the right to kill them?”

A lord like Selkon might have the right to execute his people.

Did he?

Probably.

It was permitted under the laws of the land, and those laws were made by the lord himself.

But if so, shouldn’t there be a trial? Why an assassination?

Ram followed the order to kill the “kind witch.”

As usual, he began by sneaking into the target’s house.

But the witch’s house had no defenses against intruders.

Even if Ram had stomped noisily through the front door and walked straight to her bedroom, she wouldn’t have noticed.

It took only six breaths to place his knife at the witch’s neck.

Despite the blade at her throat, the witch remained calm.

It was as though she had known this would happen and accepted it.

Normally, Ram would have killed her before she could even open her mouth.

But that day, he hesitated.

Was it really right to kill her?

It was a doubt he had never felt before, but that day was different.

Had he already fallen victim to the witch’s magic when he entered her home?

If so, the spell must have been cast months earlier.

Because Ram knew her.

He had bought herbs from her several times, and she had even handed him bread, telling him to eat it alone, when she saw his emaciated frame.

It wasn’t hesitation because he knew her. Ram had killed many people he knew.

When his master ordered it, he simply killed them.

But this time, he couldn’t.

It was the piece of bread she had given him and her friendly words whenever they met.

No one had ever treated him kindly once they realized he was a slave.

At first, they might be nice, but when they found out, their attitudes would change.

They would become cold, indifferent, or even hostile.

Ram couldn’t bring himself to slice her throat and instead stepped back.

The witch turned to look at him and was startled.

She wasn’t shocked that someone had come to kill her, but that it was Ram who had come.

“How did you end up doing such terrible work?”

The witch cried for him, and Ram cried too.

At least, he realized later that he had been crying when he left her house.

“If you start killing even people you know, you’ll be stuck doing this for the rest of your life.”

Ram had never thought that was strange.

What was so wrong about killing someone he knew?

If his master ordered it, he had to obey, and it was natural to keep doing it forever.

He didn’t even need a reason.

But this time, he wanted to know why.

“Did you predict the lord’s death?”

“No.”

“People say the kind witch predicted Baron Selkon’s death.”

“I didn’t predict it. I just expressed concern, saying there were ominous signs in his future.”

“There’s also a rumor you were preparing poison to make that prediction come true.”

“If I really could make poison, I’d do it in secret. Why would I let the whole village know?”

“Were you preparing a curse to kill him?”

“No.”

“Then tell the truth. Go to trial. Prove your innocence.”

Ram used everything he knew to convince her.

The kind witch gave a bitter smile.

“To go to trial, the lord has to file charges against me. Who could I take to court? And Selkon can’t accuse me over a mere rumor. There’s no legal basis. Even if he fabricated a reason to punish me, people would think poorly of a lord swayed by a witch’s words. So, Selkon chose the easiest method.”

“What’s the easiest method?”

“He sent you.”

“Then why not tell people? Spread the word that the rumors are false, that you didn’t prepare poison.”

“A witch’s words are twisted once they reach people’s ears. Truth becomes lies, and lies become truth. I’ve never cast a spell in this village. I’m just an herbalist. But because people believe I’m a witch, I’ve become one.”

“But you did foresee my master’s future.”

“It wasn’t foresight; it was worry. Anyone could have said it. Like warning someone to dress warmly to avoid catching a cold. But I should have been more cautious. Since Selkon already believes I want to kill him, everything I say or do will be seen as proof of that.”

The witch asked in a worried tone, “Do you believe I’m a witch? Is that why you agreed to kill me?”

“No. I’m a slave. I didn’t agree to anything. I’m just following my master’s orders.”

“Then you believe you must obey your master. Even though you don’t have to.”

Ram didn’t understand.

He had to obey his master.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t get meat.

In truth, he didn’t even want to eat the meat, but he had to take it to give to the other slaves.

Ram couldn’t imagine another option.

He had to kill the witch.