Shadow's Oath

[Translator - Night]

[Proofreader - Gun]

Chapter 106: The Medicine Bottle

The inside of the barracks suddenly brightened.

Jedrick thought it was another flash of pain from the eye Rusef had struck the day before.

Since being imprisoned here, he had been unable to sleep due to the hallucination-like light that kept appearing.

But it was his nose that hurt more.

He wasn’t sure if the bone was broken, but breathing was difficult.

It turned out the sudden brightness was from someone pushing open the barracks door.

It was Ikarum.

As he entered, the door shut behind him, restoring the comforting darkness.

Ikarum approached and sat down in front of Jedrick.

Lying there, bound, surrounded by his own blood and vomit, Jedrick despised showing such a miserable sight to his older brother.

Ikarum simply stared at him.

He watched for so long that Jedrick began to wonder if he was imagining things, if he was actually still alone.

If not for the guard peeking inside and speaking, he might have truly believed it.

"If you have something to say, say it quickly. The Count has only allowed a short time."

Despite the guard’s words, Ikarum remained silent for a while.

Not that he would have understood—the guard had spoken in the southern tongue.

It was only when Jedrick opened his mouth to speak that Ikarum finally spoke first.

"You achieved nothing."

Ikarum’s voice was deep and steady.

Jedrick wasn’t sure if the guard outside understood Geronese, but Ikarum didn’t seem to care if he was overheard.

"You were told to spy on the enemy, but instead, you befriended them. You failed to avenge our father’s death. You’re completely useless. So, I told you to take your worthless body to the Tagda tribe, and yet, you couldn’t even manage that. Instead, you forced yourself on an enemy’s woman?"

"I didn’t force her."

Jedrick barely managed to speak.

Even those few words sent vibrations through his throat that hurt worse than the wounds from Rusef’s fists and kicks.

At the time, he hadn’t even registered the pain.

He had been too worried about Damion’s suffering.

"Does that make a difference? To them, we are barbarians. No matter how much you convinced that girl and gained her consent, to her people, it was still rape. And she was sixteen, wasn’t she? Do you expect her to testify that she loved you and that it wasn’t forced? You think anyone would believe that?"

Ikarum was right.

Jedrick had been prepared to bear the consequences of his actions.

But was he truly ready for this?

"Surprisingly, they’ve proposed a trial. A village trial, to decide your execution."

That was unexpected.

Jedrick had thought Rusef or Vadio would simply drag him into an empty field and strike him down.

He had even hoped it would be Ram who carried out the deed.

"They want us to kill you with our own hands. And I’ve decided to accept. It’s what’s best for the village. You know what my decision will be. And you know how the village will vote."

It was the natural course of action.

The result was obvious.

"I’ve said my piece. If you have anything to say, say it now, Jeje."

Jedrick had nothing to ask for.

But when Ikarum asked, something came to mind.

"Jebit isn’t to blame. I tricked him into helping me escape."

"He still has to be punished. Three days of confinement. He’ll get water, but no food. That’s all."

"Thank you."

"Don’t thank me. Jebit resents you. Even if he’s at the trial tomorrow, he won’t vote in your favor."

"I hope he doesn’t. But if he ever asks what I said, tell him I’m sorry."

"Think he’ll ask?"

"If he doesn’t, that’s fine too."

The guard at the entrance lifted the barracks flap.

Ikarum noticed the change in light and spoke without looking.

"The guard wants me to leave. I won’t let some low-ranking soldier chase me out, so if you have any more questions, ask now."

"I do."

"Make it quick."

"Did you ever think of me as your brother?"

Ikarum grimaced as if he had touched something filthy.

"Never."

"Not even once?"

"Not even once."

"I used to admire you. Until the day Albo and his friends beat me up and you didn’t stop them."

"When was that?"

"When I was fourteen. You were eighteen. I doubt you even remember."

It had started as a petty argument.

Jedrick had insisted that he had caught a rabbit.

Albo and his friends claimed it was Albo’s catch.

Since Jedrick hadn’t caught any rabbits that day, he refused to back down.

Then Albo made a suggestion.

"If you get on all fours, stick your ass up, and shake it like a girl, we’ll let you have it."

His friends had laughed.

If Jedrick had walked away, it would have ended there.

They might have mocked him, but that would have been it.

But that day, he couldn’t let it go.

"Why? Do you like boys more than girls, Albo?"

Albo had flown into a rage and started beating him.

Even at ten, Albo had been strong enough to fight adults and win.

By twenty, no one could match him in bare-handed combat.

Jedrick had stood no chance.

No one intervened.

In fact, Albo, perhaps afraid of beating the chieftain’s son alone, called on the others.

"This bastard says you all like men!"

At Albo’s words, six more boys joined in, kicking Jedrick.

Then Ikarum had appeared.

Jedrick thought his brother would stop them.

But Ikarum had only watched for a moment before walking away.

Their eyes had met. Jedrick had even reached out for help.

But Ikarum ignored him.

That was the moment Jedrick lost all affection for his brother.

"I remember."

"Then why did you just leave?"

"I was there to confirm something. I left because I had my answer."

"Confirm what?"

"I told them to do it."

Ikarum’s words left Jedrick speechless.

Well, good.

His throat was too sore to talk anyway.

"I told them to take your rabbit if you caught one. And if you resisted, to pick a fight and beat you."

Jedrick had thought he couldn’t be more disappointed in his brother.

He had thought that, in this moment, past wounds wouldn’t matter anymore.

But he was wrong.

This was the deepest disappointment of his life.

"Why?"

"Because you had Father’s love all to yourself. I wished you would just die."

"Father loved me? No, it was the opposite."

"Are you pretending not to know? You’re too smart for that."

[Translator - Night]

[Proofreader - Gun]

"Of course, I don’t know…! No, that’s ridiculous. Mother and Father only cared about you. The great chieftain Adian’s one and only heir—Ikarum! You were the one who took after Father. The village adored you. But now you say Father loved me? Don’t make me laugh."

Ikarum burst into laughter.

"I should’ve kept my mouth shut. If I’d known you thought that way, I would’ve let you die in ignorance. That would have been more miserable."

Ikarum stood up and looked down at him with emotionless eyes, as if gazing at an insect.

"Father and Mother truly loved you. Father even discussed with other chieftains how to make you the next leader despite your weakness. Mother was the smart one—she planned to marry you to Istan of Tagda. If our tribes merged or if Tagda became stronger, you’d naturally rise above me."

"But you… No. Don’t lie. Istan was your betrothed, wasn’t she?"

"I took her. I insisted that a younger brother couldn't marry before his older brother. Besides, Istan was older than you, so she was a better match for me! If Father hadn't died in the war, I would have been the one to marry Istan. But because things went wrong in a ridiculous way, I ended up marrying not Istan, the renowned beauty, but that ugly, stupid, cowardly woman, Iolrun, who wouldn't even step outside the house."

Ikarum shouted, not caring if anyone outside could hear.

"And yet, you threw it all away yourself. I hope that one night was worth the price, little brother."

A guard outside called out.

"Time's up. Come out."

Even as he left, Ikarum couldn't resist throwing in a few more words.

"I'll be the one executing you tomorrow."

Once again, he was left alone.

'Do you really think I'll just go down that easily? Things won’t go the way you expect, brother.'

Jedrick waited for his chance.

He still had the drug his brother had given him.

A poison that would make his death look peaceful, as if he had simply fallen into eternal sleep.

If he took it, everything would end in the best way possible for everyone.

Damion wouldn’t have to dirty his hands.

Charlon could let go of his regrets.

General Terdin wouldn't have to struggle with complicated decisions about the Geron chieftain.

Count Vadio would be pleased to see an eyesore removed.

Rusef could conclude his sister's revenge swiftly.

Would this be a gain or a loss for Ikarum?

Maybe a loss, since he wouldn’t get to kill him with his own hands.

Whatever.

The only thing that worried him was whether the vial had already broken.

It had survived the chaos of the past few days.

He had tucked it safely into his inner pocket when he was captured, but after getting beaten by Rusef, he hadn’t had the luxury of checking if it was still intact.

It could be gone entirely.

Or shattered.

His chest felt oddly damp—had it already leaked out completely?

His hands were tied behind his back, so there was no way to check.

Jedrick waited for his chance.

Before long, voices outside announced the village trial.

The guard outside lifted the cloth covering the tent entrance.

Three soldiers stood waiting to escort him.

"Take him to the village."

One of them gave the order, and two others grabbed Jedrick's arms, pulling him to his feet.

He expected them to be rough, but surprisingly, they weren’t.

Looking closer, he realized they were Terdin's men.

Count Vadio hadn't seized control of all the soldiers yet.

Even if he had, soldiers didn’t change their nature overnight.

Jedrick decided to use this to his advantage.

"I need to relieve myself."

The soldier who had given the order shook his head.

"Just piss yourself."

"You may see me as nothing more than a barbarian, perhaps even a rapist, but I am still the Geron chieftain. I ask for a small courtesy."

Jedrick showed them his bound wrists.

"You don’t need to untie me. Just tie my hands in front instead. I’ll take care of the rest."

The lead soldier hesitated, but another snapped at him.

"What's there to think about? Just let him piss himself—"

"General Terdin ordered us to take him with respect until the end. Do it."

The soldier gave a nod, and the other two reluctantly untied Jedrick’s hands.

A third soldier stood ready with his weapon, warning him not to try anything.

Of course, Jedrick had no intention of doing what they feared.

They bound his hands in front instead.

Even this slight change brought relief to his stiff muscles.

"Hurry up."

"I will."

Jedrick turned toward the hill.

Out of their sight, he reached into his inner pocket as if adjusting his clothes.

The vial was still there!

He gripped it in one hand, lowering both hands along with his waistband as if relieving himself.

Then he actually did relieve himself, all while checking the state of the vial.

It was broken.

His heart sank.

His mind reeled, recalculating his options.

Should he slash his wrist with the broken glass?

Stab his throat?

His father had taught him many things, and through experience, Jedrick had learned one truth: humans could die surprisingly easily, but they could also be incredibly resilient.

Some people slit their throats and survived, suffering in agony for a week before finally dying.

Others choked on a single acorn and died instantly.

A small shard of broken glass wouldn’t guarantee immediate death.

What should he do?

Jedrick checked the vial again.

By some miracle, some of the poison remained.

The break had allowed a little to leak, dampening his chest.

But there was still enough—at least a mouthful.

'This should be enough. Ikarum wouldn’t have measured the exact lethal dose so precisely. A full vial was probably meant for two people.'

But he didn’t have time.

If he was going to take it, he had to do it now.

His stream was nearly finished, and the soldiers would drag him away any second.

He had to hurry—

But instead, Jedrick flicked the vial into the stream of urine.

The soldiers didn’t notice a thing.

Jedrick fastened his trousers and turned back to them, calm and composed.

'I chose to endure the pain. If Damion has decided I must suffer, then I will accept it. If I die, Charlon will suffer, too. But she must accept it, just as we both agreed. We must not run from this.'

For the first time in his life, the uphill path to the village felt impossibly steep.

'I have to accept it. The pain. The death.'

[Translator - Night]

[Proofreader - Gun]