Shadow's Oath

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Chapter 84: Aedun

Aedun passed through the outskirts of Elum Village.

From there, five knights and twenty soldiers stood guard.

They had the solemn expressions of those defending a castle gate in the midst of war.

Aedun could have stopped to ask them about the situation.

Though he had not yet been knighted, his position as Terdin’s adjutant and his experience leading royal and Born knights multiple times meant he did not feel intimidated by full-fledged knights.

In fact, he took a bit of pride in that.

But now was not the time to be indulging in such authority.

Instead, he urged his horse forward, ascending the steep path toward the village square.

The square was already crowded with what seemed to be the entire village.

On top of that, there were knights protecting the prince and soldiers keeping the villagers at bay, making the space feel completely packed.

Surprisingly, General Terdin was not by the prince’s side but stood behind the villagers.

Two knights guarded him, but amidst such a crowd, he was practically defenseless.

“General, you’re in danger here,”

Aedun said.

Terdin, as if he hadn’t even heard the concern, asked,

“Did you escort Bishop Aikok properly?”

“Yes, well… I did. Count Vadio…”

Aedun hesitated, trying to calculate which parts of the conversation with the count he could reveal and which he should keep to himself.

But before he could decide, Terdin asked,

“Did he interrogate you about what I did wrong while rescuing the bishop and the prince?”

“Huh? No, not exactly…”

Aedun trailed off again, forced to recall his conversation with the count in its entirety.

…Had he?

“The fact that he’s here at all is my mistake.”

Terdin began walking around the edge of the crowded square.

He was heading toward the prince on the opposite side.

With his authority as the supreme commander, he could have simply ordered people to move and taken the shortest route, but instead, he chose to take the long way around.

The knights guarding the perimeter saluted the general whenever they saw him.

Whenever Aedun walked alongside Terdin, he liked to imagine that those salutes were meant for him as well.

“When I requested reinforcements from the main camp, I was too pressed for time to think clearly. But in hindsight, the only person who could have led them was Count Vadio. Not because of his capability, but because, from King Gallant’s perspective, the most trustworthy person to save his son would be the one who had flattered him the most up until now.”

“So, when I expected it to be Commander Bedian or Domien, you knew it would be Count Vadio. Then, should I have specifically mentioned Bedian’s name?”

“No, Gallant would have chosen Vadio anyway.”

Aedun let out a quiet groan.

Suddenly, every word of his conversation with the count started to weigh on his mind.

“General, Count Vadio told me some things earlier…”

Aedun proceeded to recount everything from his conversation with the count, even the parts he had been told to keep secret.

He expected Terdin to be angry, but the general showed little reaction.

“Did I make a mistake?”

Aedun asked hesitantly.

“What mistake? You were just following your superior’s orders. The command of this place has already been transferred to Count Vadio. That was my intention, so I will accept it gladly. Now, you must decide—will you return home with me, or will you stay by the count’s side as his adjutant?”

Terdin had never been one to blame his subordinates.

Even when they made mistakes, he always focused on what came next.

“I will follow you, General.”

Aedun’s voice was resolute.

“It’s your choice,”

Terdin replied, his voice tinged with an odd sense of loneliness.

“But General, even if Count Vadio taking command is unpleasant, haven’t you wanted to leave the battlefield for a long time?”

Yet, he had ended up in the north, and with this war dragging on, he hadn’t been able to step away.

But now, it was finally over.

Aedun, too, wanted to go home as soon as possible and live the life he desired.

“To be precise, I wanted to leave the battlefield even before the Born War began. That’s why I said I’d accept this gladly.”

“Will you go to Tamperton?”

“You want me to go to the capital, another battlefield in its own right? No, I’d prefer a quiet cottage in the countryside, far from the faces of nobles.”

Terdin chuckled and continued,

“So, in a way, the count telling me to leave is a gift. But somehow, it feels like receiving a poisoned chalice. One where the ‘opponent’ tells me it’s poisoned, but I have no choice but to drink it anyway.”

When Terdin said ‘opponent,’ Aedun had the distinct feeling he wasn’t referring to Count Vadio.

Aedun spoke in warning as they neared the prince.

“Count Vadio said this trial would be used to humiliate the prince. That, at least, seems plausible to me.”

“They say external enemies are easy to fight, but internal enemies are difficult. Do you know why? Because an external enemy will try to kill you by using the person you hate the most, but an internal enemy will try to kill you by using the person you trust the most.”

Aedun felt his heart sink.

“You’re not saying… I’m the one being used against you, are you?”

“You gave me information that could disrupt this trial. You did so out of loyalty and goodwill. But if I take your words at face value, I will continue to view this trial with suspicion. I will start thinking of ways to sabotage it myself. And the count will achieve his goal without lifting a finger.”

“Why would the count want to sabotage the trial?”

Aedun asked, flustered.

“Perhaps sabotaging the trial isn’t his ultimate goal.”

“What?”

By then, Terdin had already reached the prince’s side, and their conversation had to end.

“My apologies for the delay, Your Highness,”

Terdin said, standing beside Damion.

Aedun stopped a few steps behind them.

“I’ve heard the situation, General. It was inevitable.”

Though his words were understanding, his dark expression made it clear he was displeased.

“You’re letting the villagers conduct their own trial? Against Hag Olga? That doesn’t sound like a good idea,”

Terdin remarked.

“That woman trapped us and sent us to the temple. It’s a fact.”

“What happened yesterday?”

Damion spoke in a low voice, almost a whisper.

Aedun wanted to hear but couldn’t move closer.

After listening, Terdin shook his head.

“I understand what you’ve been through, but that alone isn’t enough to prove Olga’s guilt. And now, you’re holding a trial immediately? If this were the capital, it would take at least six months to reach a verdict.”

“That’s only if Olga were a noble.”

“Even if she were a witch, a verdict wouldn’t be passed so hastily. There would be three days of torture, three days of trial, a day for preparations—at least a week. Even for a real criminal. Your Highness, it would be better for you to interrogate her personally, hold a private trial, and issue the sentence yourself. Do not leave it to them.”

Aedun found it odd.

Terdin wasn’t just trying to disrupt the trial—he was trying to stop it entirely.

“I know. I want to keep her alive, at least for now, since she’s the only one who can heal Charlon.”

“So you don’t intend to execute her, but you’ll respect the Geronian trial process?”

“…I suppose so.”

“But remember the public trial yesterday morning, Your Highness. Conqueror’s authority might not work here. The only way to ensure it does is not to hold the trial at all.”

“I will make sure it does. I’ll use this trial to solidify my position.”

Terdin simply nodded—not in agreement, but in permission to do as he pleased.

Even without knowing all the details, Aedun could tell—the prince was wrong.

If the prince made him his adjutant and asked for advice, Aedun would tell him one simple truth: The conquered don’t easily obey the conqueror.

Especially not the Geronians, who despised and looked down on Southerners.

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In the center of the square, people had begun piling up firewood and lighting a fire.

Gray smoke drifted to one side, and as the crowd scrambled to move away from the smoke, a brief commotion arose.

Aedun spotted the village elders sitting anxiously on the ground at one corner of the square.

Ikarum sat among them with a grave expression, and the other two shared the same look of unease.

None of them spoke.

It was only later that he realized there was a woman sitting at the center, appearing to have a seat of higher status than even Ikarum.

Unlike the others, who either stood or sat on the ground, she alone sat on a wooden chair.

Well, to be exact, apart from Damion, she was the only one.

To an outsider, it would have been unclear whether Damion held the highest authority or if she did.

“Who is that woman?”

Terdin asked.

“Miela, mother of Jedrick.”

A short explanation, yet it made everything clear.

‘No one in the village could deny that Ikarum was the chieftain, but it seemed that, at least spiritually, Mantum’s wife held greater authority.’

Aedun could sense the atmosphere from the murmurings of those preparing for the trial, the grave mood that hung over the proceedings, the heat from the firewood, and the glances the elders cast toward the prince as they conversed with Miela.

‘Whatever this is, it seems that, regardless of the trial, that witch’s fate has already been sealed.’

The prince had insisted otherwise, but the villagers were gripped by fear.

This trial was vastly different from the one held the previous day.

Who were they so afraid of?

It was certainly not the prince.

General Terdin?

The villagers had not even glanced his way, and they had already been in this state before he arrived.

Having followed the general since childhood, witnessing numerous battles and experiencing firsthand the events that unfolded in conquered lands, Aedun had seen this kind of fear before.

“This doesn’t feel right. I’m worried there could be an uprising. What exactly are the villagers so afraid of?”

Aedun whispered.

“Vadio got what he wanted. The count intended to burn this village to the ground before the prince even had a chance to act.”

The general deliberately distanced himself from the prince, seemingly stepping away from the trial itself.

Given Terdin’s nature, Aedun suspected he had already foreseen the possible future and was retreating in concern.

“If Vadio seizes control of the village through fear, the prince will be powerless here…”

Terdin’s expression was that of a father worried for his son.

Aedun, sharing in that concern, turned to watch the scene. @@novelbin@@

It was then that he noticed the shadow standing behind the prince.

He had often observed how this figure could blend into the background so seamlessly that he seemed to vanish even when standing in plain sight.

It was almost eerie.

‘That boy infiltrated the enemy camp and assassinated Mantum that night.’

Aedun recalled the events of that fateful night.

‘If he sets his mind to it, there’s no one he can’t kill.’

Vadio had made his move, and Aedun had been caught up in it, but as long as that boy remained by their side, it seemed that nothing Vadio attempted could truly endanger the general.

‘Unless Vadio manages to turn that boy to his side…’

Aedun leaned closer to the general and whispered.

“Isn’t His Highness underestimating this situation? If this continues, he’ll end up nothing more than a bystander. It might be better to leave and let the Geronians handle this as they wish.”

Terdin kept his gaze fixed ahead as he replied.

“If I had been eighteen and in his position, no matter how wise the adults around me were, I wouldn’t have listened to them. And I am hardly a wise adult myself.”

“What about postponing the trial? Giving His Highness more time to think?”

“I would have liked that, but it’s too late. That should have been done earlier.”

“Was creating a sense of urgency also one of Count Vadio’s tactics?”

“It would be easy to assume so, but I don’t think so. It feels more like some unknown force has pushed everyone into this moment, leaving us no way out…”

Terdin seemed lost in thought before he murmured quietly, so softly that even Aedun, standing beside him, could barely hear.

“Shadow.”

Aedun was about to ask how one could call someone by such a name in such a low voice, but the figure immediately responded, stepping beside Terdin.

“Yes, General. I apologize for not greeting you earlier.”

Terdin nodded and got straight to the point.

Speaking so quietly that even Aedun could barely hear, the general clearly didn’t want anyone else to know what he was about to say.

The area was full of Geronians, and four royal knights stood guard around the prince.

“There is something I need you to do.”

“What is it?”

“Vadio is likely with Bishop Aikob right now. I need to know what they are discussing. I suspect Vadio is planning something dangerous.”

Aedun felt a twinge of resentment.

Spying on Vadio and Aikob’s conversation was something he could easily handle.

It was his job, after all.

He even had the advantage of having just spoken privately with Vadio.

But instead, the general was giving the task to this boy?

Unexpectedly, the shadow refused.

“I’m sorry, but I wish to remain by His Highness’s side.”

Terdin tried to reason with him.

“There’s nothing for you to do here. Leave it to the knights.”

The general was right.

Even if, by some chance, the villagers revolted, the soldiers stationed here were more than capable of quelling any uprising.

“The knights have failed to protect His Highness. They failed two nights ago, and again at the Temple of Raham. I must be here.”

‘That insolent brat! A mere slave, daring to defy the highest general of the realm…’

Aedun recalled that, before his records were burned, this boy had been the property of Baron Selken’s only son, Zenri Selken.

His name had not even been recorded, as he was considered mere property rather than a person.

Like a broken suit of armor discarded after battle, if he had died in combat, there would have been no compensation.

And yet, he now dared to defy the orders of the kingdom’s greatest general?

In times of war, such insubordination would have warranted immediate execution.

But instead of reprimanding him, Terdin accepted his defiance without hesitation.

“I understand how you feel. Then Aedun will handle this task…”

At that moment, the Geronian men entered the square, dragging the accused witch with them.

Her arms were bound tightly with rope, and she offered no resistance.

The men treated her roughly, as if handling a wild beast.

Her disheveled hair, tear-streaked face, and dirt-covered appearance made her seem every bit the part of a condemned witch.

The men threw her to the ground in the center of the square.

She fell face-first and remained motionless.

Ikarum stepped forward and spoke.

Jedrick translated his words.

“The trial begins.”

Damion nodded and called out.

“Stuga.”

The shadow returned to the prince’s side.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“No matter what happens, do not leave my or Jedrick’s side.”

Notably, Terdin’s name was absent from those he was to protect.

And unlike before, the boy seemed far more devoted when obeying the prince's orders.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Aedun was seething with frustration.

How could this happen?

The general’s shadow had been stolen by the prince!

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