Shadow's Oath

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Chapter 82: Bows and Torches (2)

The unit led by Captain Rusef began merging with the soldiers at the campsite.

Damion had too many thoughts in his head and had no choice but to set aside his concerns about Vadio.

"I understand. But if I'm going, I'll be taking Lady Charlon with me."

"Of course, Your Highness."

Vadio replied with a sycophantic tone.

As soon as the cavalry arrived, Damion stepped forward.

Rusef, leading the group, recognized him first and greeted him.

"Your Highness, are you unharmed?"

Seeing Rusef’s stern expression, Damion felt somewhat relieved.

At the very least, Charlon wasn’t dead.

That meant he could finally open his mouth, which had been frozen shut by the fear of the worst.

"Where is Charlon?"

"She’s safe. But it looks like she’s injured."

Damion approached the carriage.

When he opened the door, he found Charlon lying on her side.

Her face was deathly pale, and there was a faint smell of rotting flesh.

"Charlon!"

"Your Highness, you're safe. I'm so glad."

Damion had thought that if she returned alive, he would run to her and embrace her.

But now, he couldn't even touch her.

He had no idea where to place his hands without causing her pain, so all he could do was ask.

"How do you feel?"

"I'm fine."

"You don’t look well..."

Charlon forced a smile and shook her head.

"The carriage is shaking, so I feel a bit nauseous. But I’m not in much pain. They told me to ride in the carriage halfway through, but I should’ve just kept riding my horse."

"We’re almost there, so don’t worry about anything."

Damion stepped away from the carriage.

Rusef was already ordering the soldiers to prepare to carry Charlon.

From a distance, Charlon’s elderly nanny came running, screaming.

"Bring the young lady here! Hurry up! What are you lazy fools doing?"

With her rushing them like that, Damion didn’t even need to urge them himself.

He turned to Rusef and spoke in a low voice.

"Is there a healer in this camp?"

"…No."

"That nanny… does she have any medical knowledge?"

"Oldel? She’s an old woman who thinks snake wine is the cure for colds. I wouldn’t trust her with this."

Damion then turned to Vadio, who had been trailing behind him.

"Did you not bring a healer from the main force, Count?"

"We only brought the military forces in a hurry…"

Vadio added in a quieter voice.

"And of the two healers in the main force, one died in the last battle, and the other… is suffering from severe diarrhea."

Damion frowned at the unexpected response.

"Diarrhea?"

"It’s not just an upset stomach—it seems to be something more serious. There’s even concern that the soldiers who were treated by him might also need to be quarantined. We can’t entrust Lady Charlon to him."

Vadio was not someone to be trusted, but he wouldn’t make up something like this.

"Then we should at least find a soldier with experience treating wounds—"

Before Rusef could finish, a voice called out from behind.

"Prince Damion."

Damion didn’t even have time to excuse himself to Rusef before he quickly approached the speaker.

Behind him, Ram nodded briefly in greeting.

"Jedrick, Stuga."

He wanted to embrace them in relief, especially Jedrick, and recount the whole experience of riding through the night.

'Jedrick, listen. I did as you said. I ran north, circled the rocky hills, then headed west across the plains. When night fell, I turned south. Once the sun was down, it got dark so fast. It was freezing. Just like you said, hugging my horse helped. But finding the right direction was harder than I thought. The moonlight felt dim, even though the sky was clear. I kept thinking I was lost. And the whole time, I was terrified. If I was too late, all three of you could die. But just like you said, I didn’t miss the village of Elum. I saw the campfires burning bright in the encampment, and…'

Damion pushed those thoughts aside and kept his greeting brief.

"I'm truly glad you both made it back alive."

But neither of them showed any relief at being alive.@@novelbin@@

Jedrick spoke hastily.

"Charlon's condition isn’t improving. It hasn’t worsened overnight, but she’s not getting better either."

"I saw. We’re searching for someone who can treat her."

"We have someone who can."

At those words, Rusef immediately scowled.

Vadio made his displeasure even clearer.

"Step back, barbarian. This isn’t your place—"

"Wait a moment, Count."

Damion pulled Jedrick aside, out of earshot of the others, and spoke quietly.

"I know who you're talking about. But that woman tried to kill us. She’s the reason Charlon is in this state!"

"Not us—you. She was after you. Charlon just got caught in it."

"Is there a difference? You were caught in it too. You said she treated you like a son when you were young. But for revenge, she was willing to kill Adian Mantum’s child too. And you want to entrust Charlon to her?"

"I hesitated to tell you for that very reason. But as I thought it over on the way here, I realized there’s no other way. Her flesh is rotting. If it were a limb, we could amputate it. But it’s her torso—we have no options."

Damion had no response.

"What about other Geron tribe members? There are still two chieftains, aren’t there?"

"There are. But for a wound this severe, only Olga could treat it. Even the people from neighboring villages came to her when they were sick."

Jedrick leaned in even closer.

Though he whispered, his voice was firm.

"Think about it, Damion. Most healers wouldn’t even touch a wound like this. They’d mix a few herbs and pray. Nine out of ten would die. But when Olga treats them, nine out of ten survive. And from what I’ve seen, not a single patient she treated has died."

He was right.

Even in the capital, where there were many renowned healers and royal physicians, Damion had never seen a truly skilled doctor.

Patients who entered the palace for minor illnesses sometimes never left alive.

And royal physicians didn’t even treat external injuries.

They claimed they couldn’t, but in truth, they simply wouldn’t.

Even nobles sought barbers rather than doctors for something as minor as a calloused foot.

Most battlefield medics were former barbers.

"There’s no one else. Let Olga treat her, and we can watch over her the whole time. We can make a deal—if she saves Charlon, we’ll lessen her punishment. We can figure out a way. But we can’t find another healer."

Damion had thought he was the most anxious one about Charlon’s condition.

But in Jedrick’s expression, he saw something beyond anxiety—he saw fear.

‘You're acting more like her fiancé than I am.’

Damion almost said it out loud but stopped himself.

He was grateful for Jedrick’s concern.

‘We made a blood pact in the temple. If someone Jedrick loved were in this situation, I’d feel the same way. His reaction is only natural.’

"Alright. Then let Olga—"

Before he could finish, commotion erupted among the soldiers.

Someone was approaching from the lower village.

"What’s going on?"

Vadio raised his hand and shouted.

The archers, already poised, immediately lit their arrows with fire, ready to shoot at any moment.

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Jedrick widened his eyes and looked at the surrounded village, then asked,

“What… what are you doing, prince?”

Damion didn’t have time to explain and shouted,

“Stop! Lower your bows!”

When the archers did not listen, Damion turned to Vadio.

“That is an order, Count Vadio! Have them lower their bows.”

Vadio glanced at the prince and responded,

“There is no need to follow the orders of a former prince at this point. His Majesty has given me full authority over this place.”

He then continued with a soft smile, as if he were showing mercy,

“But since you ask so earnestly, I will comply.”

At Vadio’s signal, the archers finally lowered their bows—but they did not extinguish the flames on their arrows.

Among the soldiers guarding the entrance to the village, a woman stood.

She said something, but the soldiers could not understand Geron’s language.

Damion quickly walked over, with Jedrick following closely behind, explaining,

“It’s my mother.”

“Your mother?”

Jedrick nodded and said her name,

“Miela.”

Damion and Jedrick naturally passed by the bound Ikarum.

Damion deliberately avoided looking at him.

He wasn’t sure he could withstand the glare if he did.

He also couldn’t bear to look at Jedrick.

‘Don’t blame me, Jedrick. This situation is not what I wanted.’

The woman standing where the soldiers blocked the path appeared to be in her early forties.

Her long, dark hair and tall, broad-shouldered frame made her look strong enough to pass for a man.

Her eyes, bold and wide, gleamed under the morning sunlight.

However, her face was slender, and her sharp features made her undeniably beautiful.

Jedrick always claimed to resemble his father, but after seeing his mother, Damion could not agree.

“Step aside.”

Damion ordered the soldiers to move back.

Miela stepped forward, but as she got three steps closer, the knights stopped her.

“That’s far enough!”

Miela snorted in disdain and took a step back.

“State your name.”

Although he already knew it, Damion asked to begin the conversation.

Jedrick translated, and Miela responded,

“I am Miela, mother of Chief Ikarum and High Chief Jedrick, and the wife of Adian Mantum, whom you murdered.”

“I did not kill Adian.”

Though Damion already felt overwhelmed by her presence, he tried not to back down.

He was grateful that Jedrick was acting as an interpreter.

If he had spoken directly, this former wife of Mantum would have seen right through him.

“He was assassinated! It was not a fair battle!”

Miela shouted.

Damion’s throat felt dry, making it difficult to raise his voice, so he forced himself to remain calm.

“Say only what you must.”

“What is this atrocity? You cowardly killed our Mantum, and now you take the village children as hostages. Is this your way?”

Miela demanded.

Damion wanted to say no.

He wanted to say that this was all Vadio’s doing.

“This is our way.”

But Vadio had appeared behind him and spoke instead.

He placed a hand on the prince’s shoulder, as if telling him to leave everything to him, then loudly continued,

“This is the right of a conqueror. I could do far worse, but it is only the prince’s mercy that is stopping me. Speak your business, woman.”

Jedrick glanced at his mother and translated.

Damion could only hope he hadn’t conveyed Vadio’s words exactly as they were.

Miela spoke,

“We have captured the one who wronged the prince. To prove our innocence, we will hold a trial and execute him ourselves.”

Vadio scoffed,

“You expect us to believe that you, the criminals, can judge your own people? Even a lizard wouldn’t cut off its own tail that way—”

Damion interrupted Vadio and asked,

“Who do you intend to execute?”

Jedrick skipped over Vadio’s words and translated only Damion’s.

“Hag Olga.”

Miela spoke firmly.

“Watch our trial. See our innocence for yourself. We have done no wrong to you.”

Damion didn’t know what decision to make.

He had only woken up less than ten minutes ago, and too many things were happening all at once.

He turned to look at Ram.

As always, his expression was unreadable, simply waiting for orders.

He was not someone who offered opinions, so there was nothing to expect from him.

Jedrick was in no state to give an objective judgment.

And right now, he stood closer to Miela than to Damion.

That small distance somehow made Damion feel an odd sense of separation.

The only person who might offer advice was Terdin, but he wasn’t here.

And there was no time to wait.

‘I have to decide.’

Then, Vadio whispered beside him,

“Do not accept. They’re trying to cover up their own crimes. These savages don’t even know what civilization is—how could they possibly hold a fair trial? It would be far simpler to just bury a few of their children, as I suggested earlier. No need for any trouble.”

Vadio smiled and patted Damion’s shoulder. An inexplicable feeling of disgust crept up Damion’s spine at the touch.

“Leave this matter to me and prepare to return to His Majesty. Lady Charlot has arrived, hasn’t she? You should take her with you immediately. Isn’t her treatment urgent?”

Vadio then lowered his voice even more, glancing at Jedrick, who stood closer to Miela.

“And that so-called High Chief, acting as an interpreter—we should be careful with him. Who knows if he’s even translating correctly? They say the greatest threats are the ones closest to you.”

‘The one closest to me right now is you.’

Instead of snapping back, Damion gently pushed Vadio away.

“I must handle this before I leave. This is something I must settle myself.”

“A true ruler knows when to entrust matters to his capable subordinates.”

Damion acted as if he agreed with Vadio’s words and turned away from Miela.

Then, he walked toward the bound Ikarum.

Though it had not been his intention, his actions now made it seem as if he was personally intimidating the captive chief.

But there was no time to correct the misunderstanding.

He could only use the situation as it was.

“Ehodin Ikarum!”

For the first time since being tied up, Ikarum slowly lifted his head.

Then, even with his hands bound behind him, he stood.

His expression was filled with the same fighting spirit as if he had been challenged to a duel.

It was terrifying.

Damion knew that if Ikarum wanted to, he could grab him by the throat and snap his neck in seconds.

‘Ram is behind me.’

Damion did not turn around or check.

He just believed it to be true.

“Stuga, untie him.”

Ram stepped forward.

“You must not do this, Your Highness.”

Vadio protested, but Damion ignored him.

Ram untied the tribal chief, then immediately stepped back, positioning himself right behind Damion.

For the first time, Damion felt comforted by Ram’s presence.

He didn’t even need to think about it—he already knew who had protected them through the night and ensured their safe arrival here.

‘My shadow is protecting me.’

Damion met Ikarum’s gaze directly and said,

“Ehodin Ikarum, we were attacked by the Tagda tribe. Were you involved in any way?”

“No.”

Ikarum answered firmly, but he could not completely hide the flicker of unease in his eyes.

“Then I will give you the chance to prove your innocence.”

Damion turned to Miela and spoke.

This time, his voice came out strong and clear.

“I grant the trial.”

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