Shadow Oath

Chapter 18: Slaves and Masters (2)

Zenri stood in front of Terrdin, particularly in front of Ram, and felt a sudden wave of shame at his own condition.

The clothes he wore were the same ones from the night he had gone to kill Mantum, stripped of his armor, with his pants stained in filth.

During his captivity, he couldn’t control his bowels or bladder. It wasn’t that they stopped him; he was in so much pain he couldn’t move and relieved himself where he lay.

The barbarians had cleaned up his mess but hadn’t bothered to change his clothes or wash him.

Zenri stood there in that exact state.

His body was covered in wounds, and his face was so filthy it was likely unrecognizable, his hair undoubtedly a tangled mess.

And the smell? How awful it must be.

Now, with even a nosebleed added to his appearance, would Ram fail to recognize him?

Otherwise, how could his servant see his master and sit still on a horse without even flinching?

Shouldn’t he immediately dismount and grovel, crying, “Young master, are you alright?”

Zenri took a deep breath, barely regaining his composure, and unleashed his full fury on Terrdin.

“How could you allow me to be dragged away by these savages? If my father knew, he would never forgive you, General Terrdin.”

Terrdin responded blandly.

“I didn’t expect gratitude, but I also didn’t think threats would come first, Zenri Selkon.”

“What did you say, you old man!”

Zenri stopped himself before saying more to Terrdin.

The general was surely the one who orchestrated this prisoner exchange.

For the sake of his future relationship with his father, he couldn’t afford to provoke him further.

Fine, gratitude should have come first. But he couldn’t apologize.

Apologizing would lower the dignity of a noble, no matter how high the person was.

Instead, Zenri turned his ire on Ram.

“What is the meaning of this? A slave sitting on a horse, looking down on me! Get off this instant!”

Ram said nothing in return.

Zenri looked around and raised his voice even louder.

“And where is the horse for me to ride?”

Zenri could imagine how impressive he must appear now.

A soldier, captured and tortured by the enemy, returning without a hint of intimidation, confidently shouting commands.

And all of this in front of the commander-in-chief of this nation’s army, General Terrdin!

In the future, General Terrdin would tell his father about his son’s courage, and his father would spread tales of his heroics among the people of the domain.

Perhaps even the king himself would hear of it.

As proof, Terrdin acknowledged Zenri’s demands and ordered Ram.

“You heard him. Your master isn’t riding, so you can’t ride either. Dismount.”

Ram obediently got off his horse.

Seizing the moment, Zenri exposed Ram’s lies.

“I can guess what this slave told you, General. He probably claimed he was the one who killed Mantum, didn’t he? Am I wrong? But that’s not the truth. It was my plan!”

Though his voice was hoarse from thirst, the words flowed more easily than expected.

“Just as the achievements of conquering a castle belong to the commander, not the soldiers who fought and died, the glory of killing Mantum doesn’t belong to the one who struck the blow. It belongs to me! That’s right! Whatever you’re thinking, General, you’re correct. You’ve been deceived. It was I who orchestrated Mantum’s death, and that slave merely swung the sword as I instructed. The victory of this war is my achievement!”

As expected, Terrdin frowned upon hearing this secret. How furious he must be, having been misled by a slave for days!

Zenri kept the momentum going, even addressing the barbarians.

“Look at him. He’s the one who killed your war god Mantum. And I’m the one who commanded it. You still don’t realize the enormity of your mistake. Trading an axe and a true hero like me for nothing.”

The young barbarian with the ornate helmet simply looked at him coldly.

Earlier, he had spoken a bit of the southern common tongue but seemed unaccustomed to it. Or perhaps Zenri’s words were too complicated for him to follow.

“Well then, take me to the allied camp as the hero I am, General Terrdin.”

Zenri held out his hand, expecting the reins of a horse to be handed to him. But instead, Ram handed the reins to Terrdin, not to Zenri.

Terrdin took the reins and looked silently at Zenri.

Though he disliked the situation, Zenri reached out to the general again.

“Let them both walk alongside each other. That way, it’s fair.”

Terrdin spoke.

“Fair?”

Zenri gaped, dumbfounded.

Terrdin neither dismounted nor acknowledged Zenri’s long speech about his accomplishments.

He simply turned the horse gently and, without sparing Zenri a glance, said, “Chief Jedric, follow me. Those two can’t speak, so we’d better go ahead.”

The young barbarian glanced down at Zenri curiously but followed Terrdin without a word.

Ram’s horse was taken away by Terrdin, who led it off.

“Huh?”

Only Ram and Zenri were left on the plain.

“Wait, what is this…?”

Zenri called out, but Terrdin didn’t respond.

His next words were scattered into the void of the plain.

“…nonsense?”

He waited for a long time, but General Terrdin did not return.

He had truly left.

It wasn’t a joke.

Zenri was beyond stunned.

He wanted to curse, but there was no one to direct it at.

The barbarians who had tormented him were gone, and even if they were here, he couldn’t touch them.

Terrdin should have given Selkon’s only son the proper treatment, but he had left, and confronting him was unlikely.

‘What’s going on? I clearly told him who the real hero behind Mantum’s death was. Did that old man not understand because I spoke too quickly?’

All that remained was Ram. With this slave, Zenri could say whatever he pleased. He could curse, hit, or vent his anger.

But what would be the point?

What could a slave do?

What could he know?

No, he must vent his anger.

That’s why the slave was there.

“Take off that hideous helmet, you bastard!”

Zenri shouted.

Ram obediently removed his helmet and pulled back his hood.

Seeing his clean face only made Zenri’s anger boil. While his master had suffered, the slave seemed to have eaten and rested well, his skin smooth and taut.

“Let’s go, young master,” Ram said politely.

“What? You bastard, are you giving me orders now?”

“No, sir.”

“Shut up! If you don’t bring me a horse immediately, I won’t take a single step from here.”

Zenri intended to stay put until Ram brought a horse.

He didn’t know how one could find a horse in the middle of the plain, but that wasn’t his problem—it was Ram’s.

Ram stood still, saying nothing, and Zenri did the same.

The place where the wolf had bitten him throbbed painfully.

The barbarian healer had sprinkled powder, applied some leaves, and placed some insects on the wound, but Zenri was certain the filthy treatment had worsened it.

‘Does our army even have a proper healer? No, I should just hurry home. Father’s personal doctor once treated the king himself. I need him to look at this. But will I even make it back to my father’s domain in this state? I might really die here.’

Ram showed no sign of knowing Zenri’s urgent state.

He just stood there silently, unmoving.

Though they hadn’t seen each other in a long time, Ram hadn’t changed at all. He was still slow, inept, and infuriating.

‘This idiot. Even if he’s a soulless slave, shouldn’t a person have the ability to think? If he can’t find a horse, shouldn’t he at least say, “Let me carry you, master”?’

Zenri’s pride wouldn’t allow him to ask to be carried. But if Ram offered to carry him, Zenri could pretend to reluctantly accept.

Yet Ram said nothing of the sort. Instead, he just apologized.

“Sorry. I cannot get a horse.”

“Find a way! Don’t you understand what I’m saying?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you saying you don’t understand me?”

“I’m saying there’s no way to do it.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“You must walk on your own.”

“Do you want to die? Are you going to keep talking back to me?”

Zenri was about to shout at him again but paused at Ram’s next words.

“His Majesty is coming today. If we don’t go now, we’ll be late.”

Zenri was surprised but spoke as if it were only natural.

“Is that so? Then you should be worried about what I’ll say when I meet His Majesty.”

Zenri left Ram behind and started walking ahead alone. But he soon realized his mistake.

Even in the open space, or perhaps because it was so open, Zenri couldn’t figure out where to go.

He couldn’t see where the allied camp was. His blurred vision, the faint morning mist—both made it impossible to determine which direction General Terrdin had gone.

If he had followed right away, at least he could have followed the horse’s path. But now the horse was nowhere to be seen.

He was lost.

But he didn’t panic.

Naturally, he slowed his steps, forcing Ram to walk ahead of him.

Ram, head bowed, walked past Zenri and inadvertently became his guide.

He didn’t even notice.

‘Fooling this idiot is too easy.’

Zenri glared at the back of Ram’s head with eyes filled with anger.

“Right, right. Abandoning your master and walking on your own again. How selfish can you be? When someone is injured, you should walk slower out of consideration.”

“I’m sorry.”

Ram didn’t turn around but slowed his pace a little.

“Do you think I don’t know? I know everything about you! I know exactly what you did to me!”

The morning mist obscured their surroundings, but it was clear they were heading south.

The rising sun to the east indicated the direction.

Once the mist lifted, the allied camp would be visible soon.

At that point, Ram would no longer be necessary.

“So His Majesty is coming today? You should worry about what will happen. Do you know what I went through there? You abandoned me there!”

Zenri poured out his pent-up anger as they walked.

“If my father finds out, you’ll face the most horrific death you can imagine. I can’t wait to see how vile your end will be. They’ll feed you the same filthy water they gave me to drink. No, just dung would be better. Prepare to eat nothing but my dung for ten days.”

Zenri lifted his shirt, exposing his stomach.

“See this? Do you see this sword wound?”

It was the mark left by the tribal leader—Ikahm or Ikahm, something like that—pressing a blade to him while interrogating him for military information.

Zenri had spilled everything he knew, but the tribal leader hadn’t been satisfied.

Zenri had no idea what answer he was looking for. He couldn’t even understand the questions.

What did he know about the name or numbers of the assassins under General Terrdin?

The only assassin Zenri had brought was one slave.

That was it.

He’d said so multiple times!

Why wouldn’t they believe him? He was just a slave.

A worker carrying loads in their household.

Dull-witted, barely comprehending, and ugly—a mere slave!

No matter how much Zenri explained, the tribal leader didn’t believe him.

He thought Zenri was lying.

“They’ll carve this wound tenfold on your body.”

Zenri pointed to the bruises on his forehead and shoulders.

These were from the barbarian guards hitting him for fun while keeping him confined.

“Do you see these too? Can you see them? Prepare to be beaten a hundredfold.”

Lastly, Zenri pointed to his largest wound.

The wolf bite.

He had no idea how many times the wolf had lifted him into the air and slammed him down.

The torn flesh still flapped loosely as he walked.

“Look closely at this. The wolf bite.”

Zenri struck the wound with his fingers roughly to emphasize it.

It was a mistake.

It hurt too much. But he didn’t show it.

“You’d better remember this, you slave. When I return to the estate, the first thing I’ll do is buy a wolf. I’ll raise it to the size of a house and have it tear apart anyone who dares to disrespect me.”

If Zenri had learned one thing from the barbarians, it was about their wolves.

They raised dogs too, but the wolves stood out with their immense presence.

Their size!

Their intimidation!

In stories, wolves were portrayed as cowardly beasts that ate little girls in red hoods. But seeing them in real life, they seemed strong enough to tear apart heavily armored knights.

“I’ll feed that wolf human flesh. It’ll become a beast accustomed to the taste of human blood. Think about who it’ll eat first.”

When Ram didn’t react and kept walking without looking back, Zenri shouted in rage.

“You’ll die. You’ll die a wretched death. You’ll die with the greatest pain imaginable!”

Still, Ram didn’t look back and continued walking faster. Zenri wanted to grab him by the back of the neck and stop him, but he was too far ahead. His steps were too quick for Zenri to catch up. Shouting to stop him would hurt Zenri’s pride.

“This bastard doesn’t listen to me anymore.”

Zenri finally said something he knew Ram couldn’t ignore.

“That slave woman’s name was Lan, wasn’t it?”

It was a name that would force Ram to stop.

As expected, Ram stopped.

Yes, that’s it!

That’s how it should be!