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Chapter 15: Mantum's Axe
The cavalry captain returned with the patrol, dismounting before his horse had fully stopped.
He staggered slightly before coming to a halt in front of General Terdin to report.
“The army led by His Majesty is setting up camp.”
Terdin lowered the foot he had been resting on the stirrup.
“Where?”
“Five miles away.”
“They’re not coming now?”
“No, sir.”
“Did you ask directly?”
“I spoke with the captain of the royal guard, Claive. He said they will rest tonight and depart again tomorrow morning.”
Aedun, the lieutenant, approached with his horse in tow and muttered to Terdin.
“They could easily arrive by tonight. Is it because the king avoids traveling at night? Or could there be so hidden reason…?”
The Count of Badio, standing behind them, confidently interjected.
“It must an they want us to prepare an exceptional welco!”
Terdin didn’t deliberate long and replied,
“Reasonable enough. In that case, Count, you should personally organize an advance party. If you’re waiting ahead to greet His Majesty, it’ll put him at ease.”
Badio replied as though he had been waiting for this suggestion.
“I’ll take only my knights.”
“Do as you see fit.”
Terdin then turned to Aedun.
“No need to overthink, Aedun. Just consider this extra ti to prepare. Make sure any soldiers who can wash by tomorrow do so, and arrange a lineup to welco the royal procession.”
“Yes, General.”
Once the lieutenant, the count, and the other commanders dispersed, Terdin quickly turned, handing his reins to Ram.
As Ram took hold of them, Terdin whispered,
“You seem to have sothing to say. You’ve been restless since the eting earlier.”
“Yes.”
“Is this sothing we need to discuss privately?”
“Yes, sir.”
Terdin led Ram to a secluded spot away from prying ears.
Even when they were alone, Terdin spoke very softly.
“What is it?”
Ram recounted his entire conversation with Jedrick from earlier that day.
He braced himself for the scolding that would inevitably follow—for not reporting sooner.
But instead of anger, Terdin seed invigorated, as though sothing exciting had co up.
“We’ll need to negotiate again. It must be dealt with before His Majesty arrives. Follow .”
Monts ago, Terdin had seed reluctant and sluggish about preparing for the king’s arrival.
Now, his movents were swift and purposeful.
The first place Terdin went was his tent.
He entered alone and ca back out carrying a large chunk of iron.
It was wrapped neatly in a leather pouch, but Ram recognized it imdiately—it was Mantum’s axe.
Next, Terdin headed to Jedrick’s tent.
Jedrick was sitting with his eyes closed, but he didn’t seem surprised to see Terdin, as if he had been expecting him.
Even when the general slamd the axe down with the force of an executioner, Jedrick remained calm, wearing only an expression of resignation.
“I intend to present this axe to His Majesty Gallant tomorrow as a trophy of victory.”
Jedrick replied calmly,
“The victor claims all. It is a bitter loss for , but if that’s your choice, I cannot refuse.”
Jedrick’s composure was unshaken until Terdin’s next words.
“However, I could return it to you.”
Jedrick and Terdin locked eyes, scrutinizing each other as though trying to read the other’s thoughts.
“The terms?”
Jedrick asked, and Terdin responded before the question was fully ford.
“I hear one of the prisoners you’ve captured ca here to kill Mantum. A noble, no less.”
Jedrick glanced at Ram before replying.
“That’s true.”
“Is he alive?”
“Probably.”
“Probably?”
“He was alive before I ca here. But now, who knows? A wolf bite isn’t exactly a small injury.”
“Let’s trade.”
“A deal?”
Jedrick asked in disbelief.
Terdin nodded, and Jedrick confird,
“Why trade? You could easily string up and have your n march in to retrieve the prisoner. Is he really so important that you’d give up Mantum’s axe for him?”
“If I present this axe to the king, he’ll keep it as a trophy, locked away in so storeroom, never to be looked at again. But to your people, it’s a family heirloom. That noble boy might an little to you, just another bargaining chip for so compensation. But to us, he’s invaluable. He’s worth the trade.”
“Invaluable?”
Ram couldn’t understand the general’s reasoning.
Until recently, even Terdin barely knew the boy’s na.
“When?”
Jedrick asked.
“Now.”
“Tonight?”
“Just say yes or no.”
From Jedrick’s perspective, Ram thought, there was no reason to refuse this deal.
But still, Jedrick took his ti, clearly calculating whether there was a trap.
“Deal.”
The mont Jedrick agreed, Terdin shouted to a soldier outside,
“Bring pen, ink, and parchnt!”
“Yes, General!”
While they waited for the supplies, Jedrick remarked,
“A deal conducted in the dead of night is sothing we regard as dishonorable. I’ll write the letter, but my people won’t comply.”
“Fair enough. How would you ensure they do?”
“We need daylight. Set the exchange for dawn tomorrow.”
Terdin seed to consider sothing before countering,
“What about just before dawn? The sun will rise during the exchange.”
“...Agreed. And to ensure there’s no trickery, I’ll co along.”
“Location?”
“The sa as before.”
“Fine. But…”
As if he had just rembered, Terdin added, though it was clear he had wanted to ask this from the beginning,
“What about that curse you ntioned? None of my n have died a grueso death because of it.”
Jedrick stared directly at Ram and replied,
“Do you think a curse ends with one person dying simply?”
“So, it’s complicated, even to kill one person?”
Terdin quipped mockingly before leaving the tent.
Ram followed, unable to bring himself to look back at Jedrick.
“The exchange is at dawn, so get so rest.”
Terdin said, heading off sowhere in the camp.
As the allied patrols hurried to deliver letters to the Geron camp and return with replies, Ram did as Terdin ordered and went to sleep.
The camp was restless, soldiers bustling about their tasks in preparation for the coming day.
A few bumped into Ram as he made his way to his quarters, offering quick apologies as they passed.
[Translator - Jjescus]
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Surprisingly, the soldiers seed to have kept quiet about Ram’s actions; most didn’t know he was the one who killed Mantum, let alone that he was just a regular soldier.
Even the commanders were unaware, and there were no rumors circulating.
The hood and helt he wore appeared to be effective—soldiers who had been in the sa unit as him didn’t recognize him at all.
Besides, most of them were low-ranking troops who had never been near General Terdin.
The idea that the “soldier with the hood and helt” standing beside the general was once a slave soldier carrying a spear beside them was unimaginable.
Ram’s tent was located on the outskirts of the camp, a personal tent assigned to him after becoming a shadow.
Though small, it had a bed.
Every ti Ram entered, he felt uneasy.
Since arriving at the battlefield, he had rarely slept in a tent, let alone a personal one.
Tents were only given to soldiers of a certain rank or higher.
Those below that rank were given just a blanket, whether they slept on grass or stone.
The comfort of the bed was almost unsettling to him.
That night, Ram lay awake in the too-comfortable bed.
His mind was consud with the curse Jedrick had ntioned, preventing him from sleeping.
‘That wizard has placed a spell on you.’
No matter how hard Ram tried to forget, he couldn’t stop thinking about the witch’s magic.
Ram didn’t even know her na.
To the villagers, she was called the "kind witch."
Among traders, she was simply an herbalist.
Her dicines were notoriously bitter, so children called her the "bitter dicine granny."
‘Kill that woman. Leave no trace of a murder. Burn the body.’
That was the order given by Baron Selken.
The cri?
Allegedly spreading rumors about Selken's death.
Whether it was true or not, Ram didn’t know.
When given an order to kill, Ram carried it out.
Even if the target was a wizard, the rules didn’t change.
There were rumors that she could turn people into frogs if she didn’t like them, but Ram wasn’t afraid.
Killing was simply a matter of striking first before the other’s weapon—or magic—could reach you.
But for the first ti, as Ram went to kill the "kind witch," he questioned the act of killing.
‘Is it really the duty of a slave to kill anyone their master commands, even without knowing if the person is guilty? Even if they are guilty, do I have the right to kill them?’
As a lord, Selken had the authority to execute his subjects.
Or did he? Probably.
Lords created the laws of their lands and could enforce them.
"Then why resort to assassination instead of holding a trial?"
Ram followed the order anyway, heading to kill the "kind witch."
As usual, he began by sneaking into her house.
But her ho had no defenses against intruders.
He could have stomped his way through the front door and reached her bedroom without being noticed.
It took Ram no more than six breaths to press a blade to the witch’s neck.
Despite the blade at her throat, the witch remained calm, as if she had expected this.
Normally, Ram would have killed her before she could speak, but this ti, he hesitated.
Should he really kill her?
A question he had never asked before surfaced in his mind.
Had the witch’s magic already taken hold of him?
If so, it must have happened months ago because Ram already knew her.
He had bought herbs from her shop several tis, and she had even given him bread to eat when she saw his emaciated fra.
It wasn’t because he knew her that he hesitated—Ram had killed people he was familiar with before.
If his master commanded it, he obeyed.
But this ti, he couldn’t.
It was the bread she had given him and the greetings she always offered.
She knew he was a slave yet still treated him kindly.
Most people changed once they discovered his status.
They either beca hostile or indifferent.
Ram couldn’t bring himself to draw the blade across her throat and stepped back.
When the witch turned and saw his face, she was startled—not because soone was there to kill her, but because it was Ram.
"How did you end up doing such a terrible thing?"
The witch wept for him, and Ram realized later, after leaving her house, that he had cried as well.
"If you kill even those you know, this will be your life forever."
Ram had never thought of it as strange before.
What’s the big deal about killing soone you know?
If your master ordered it, you did it.
That was the life of a slave.
No reasons were necessary.
But this ti, Ram wanted to know why.
"Did you predict the lord’s death?"
"No."
"People say the kind witch prophesied that Lord Selken would die soon."
"I rely expressed concern over ill ons in his future."
"There’s also a rumor you were preparing poison to make the prophecy co true."
"If I could really make poison, why would I let everyone know? Wouldn’t I do it in secret?"
"Did you curse him to die?"
"No."
"Then just tell the truth. You can prove your innocence in a trial."
Ram tried to reason with the witch, using what little he knew.
She gave him a bitter smile.
"A trial would require the lord to accuse formally. But Selken can’t do that—there’s no legal basis. Even if he fabricates a reason, punishing through the courts would make him look weak, as though he feared the words of a witch. So, he chose the easiest way."
"The easiest way?"
"He sent you."
"Then why don’t you just deny the rumors? Tell people you didn’t prepare poison."
"Words from a witch are twisted once they reach people’s ears. The truth becos lies, and lies beco truth. I’ve never used magic in this village, but they believe I’m a witch. So, I beca one."
"But you did predict the lord’s future."
"It wasn’t a prediction; it was concern. Like telling soone to dress warmly to avoid catching a cold. But I should have been more careful. Selken already believes I intend to kill him, so everything I say and do becos evidence in his mind."
The witch looked at Ram and asked softly,
"Do you also believe I’m a witch? Is that why you agree to kill ?"
"No. I’m a slave. I didn’t agree—I’m just following orders."
"Then you believe you must obey, even though you don’t have to."
Ram didn’t understand.
He believed he had to follow his master’s orders.
That was how he got at.
He hated eating it, but he needed to accept it to share with the other slaves.
He couldn’t imagine another way.
Ram had to kill the witch.
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