Shadow's Oath

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Chapter 58: The Heretics’ Temple (1)

"Do you mean we must go to the heretics' temple, Archbishop?"

Damion asked, his eyes filled with doubt.

Aikob responded with a solemn expression.

"Yes, Your Highness. After listening to Charlon and Rusef, I see no reason not to go."

"But it's a heretics' temple, isn't it? Surely you don’t mean I should heed the words of Hag—no, the Geronian witch?"

"That’s precisely what I mean."

Jedrick, standing in the far corner of the tent, quietly listened to their exchange.

‘Things are taking an odd turn,’

He thought, a suspicious feeling stirring in his mind.

‘If their "archbishop" is akin to our topmost sorcerer, one who oversees all Haks and Hags, then isn’t that what we’re looking at here?’

Moreover, Aikob was said to be the chancellor of the Triton Kingdom—a figure wielding incredible authority, the likes of which the Geronians couldn’t possibly produce.

Why would such a powerful man comply with a Hag’s divination?

It couldn’t be out of pure intentions.

“They’re testing you now, Your Highness. To see if you can dominate them, to determine if you can stand above them as a conqueror. And judging by the situation, you’re already on the brink of being dismissed,”

Aikob calmly explained.

“They want to make you believe in their god. But, of course, you won’t, will you?”

“Of course not,”

Damion quickly replied.

“I seek to understand the Geronian faith and the northern gods, but I will never follow their god.”

‘He’s more fearful of him than his father.’

Jedrick initially intended to stand idly as though he didn’t understand Triton’s language, but he couldn’t help glaring at Aikob.

‘That man knows Damion’s fears and is exploiting them.’

Aikob continued,

“I’m certain of your resolve, and they’ll know it too. That’s why they’re acting this way. They’re willing to accept domination, but they demand that their faith be untouched. They’ll claim you’re unworthy of interfering with their beliefs. Will you accept that?”

Damion hesitated, unable to answer easily.

Aikob pressed on, his tone insistent.

“You must not accept it. Your Highness has a duty to establish our cathedral here and spread the Word.”

“Of course... That’s what I should do,”

Damion replied reluctantly.

Aikob asked another question.

“If you can neither follow their words nor outright refuse them, what should you do?”

After more hesitation, Damion ventured an answer.

“Should we... use them?”

That was Hag Olga’s answer, but Aikob’s response differed.

“How could we use the heretics’ superstitions? They must be destroyed.”

Damion glanced at Jedrick, then quickly shifted his gaze back to Aikob, as if to hide his unease.

“By destruction, do you mean overshadowing their god’s voice with the Word of our god or replacing their myths with our gospel?”

“Destruction means destruction, plain and simple. Today, you’ll accompany me to the temple and do as the witch instructed. Nothing will happen, of course. With me here, what could a heretic god possibly do?”

Aikob chuckled as if making a joke.

“There’s no such god, after all. Once that’s clear, we’ll destroy the temple. Leaving a sanctuary for nonexistent gods makes conversion harder and needlessly distracts you, Your Highness.”

“But destroying a temple is...”

“I’ll take responsibility.”

“It’s not about responsibility—”

“And we’ll need witnesses for this.”

Aikob pointed at Jedrick.

“That barbarian will do nicely.”

Jedrick stared blankly at Aikob’s thick finger as though he didn’t understand the language.

Being called a barbarian didn’t bother him, but the term "witness" piqued his interest.

“A witness?”

Damion asked.

“To testify that we followed the witch’s instructions, nothing happened, and the Triton archbishop proved the heretics’ gods don’t exist. And to confirm that the temple was destroyed through proper procedures.”

Jedrick immediately thought of a rebuttal.

‘Even if you do that, you’ll only become known as a destroyer of temples—not a destroyer of gods.’

Aikob tapped Charlon’s shoulder as if recalling something.

“Didn’t you say earlier that the witch’s divination required this man to participate?”

“Yes, that’s correct. The divination stated that Chief Jedrick and the prince’s shadow must both be present at the temple.”

Charlon stepped politely away from Aikob’s touch, moving closer to Rusef.

It was a familiar motion, a practiced avoidance of a man’s hand.

For someone of her high nobility to react that way suggested she’d dealt with many unwelcome advances from even higher-ranking men.

Aikob withdrew his hand naturally, as if it had barely touched her shoulder.

The movement was casual, as though to say, ‘It’s nothing to be sensitive about.’

“That’s my proposal. What do you think, Your Highness?”

Damion’s confused gaze flicked between Jedrick, Charlon, and Stuga.

‘Don’t ask, Damion. You must decide.’

The archbishop had already made up his mind.

Asking for others’ opinions now wouldn’t help the prince oppose him.

“You’re right. Then let’s prepare today and tomorrow—”

Aikob interrupted, cutting him off.

“The sooner, the better. God teaches us to think carefully but act swiftly.”

“...Today?”

Damion asked in surprise.

“I’ll ask Aedun to arrange workers immediately. Would Captain Rusef accompany us?”

Caught off guard, Rusef hesitated.

“To prepare for potential Geronian incursions, General Terdin and I have agreed to fortify this base.”

“Didn’t they retreat?”

“A tribe called Tagda is reportedly still nearby. So, I can’t leave. Tomorrow would be better...”

“Then could you spare a few men?”

Aikob asked, smiling but exuding an unyielding determination.

“If a small group suffices...”

Rusef reluctantly agreed.

“...I’ll assign you five elite knights.”

Aikob sprang to his feet.

“Let’s move before noon, then. Such work should be done boldly under the bright sun.”

Jedrick smirked inwardly.

‘You’re afraid to do it at night, aren’t you?’

Aikob suddenly remembered something and asked,

“Didn’t the witch leave some tools for the ritual? Who has them?”

“I do,”

Stuga promptly replied, handing over two pouches from his belt—one containing rune stones and the other red powder.

Aikob glanced between the pouches and Stuga, then smirked.

“Since you’ve carried them, you may as well keep them.”

Stuga answered faithfully as always.

“Yes, Archbishop.”

“Your expression doesn’t look good.”

Jedrick approached Damion, who was mounting his horse.

“Hmm.”

Damion responded halfheartedly.

“You don’t sound very energetic either.”

“Hmm.”n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

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“Is it because you fainted earlier, or because you don’t want to go?”

“Both.”

Damion answered honestly, then glanced around.

Jedrick understood who Damion was worried about as he looked around.

“Can’t you get some kind of medicine from Elum? At this rate, you’ll only end up drawing unnecessary blood.”

“Our village healer is Hag Olga. But to prescribe the right medicine, she needs to know what illness you have and what’s wrong with your body. Can you meet with Hag for a diagnosis in your current state? Can you trust the medicine she prepares for you?”

As Jedrick spoke, he unconsciously touched the vial in his pocket.

‘Why am I even carrying this? I should’ve just thrown it in Ikarum’s face and left it there!’

Damion asked hesitantly with a gloomy expression.

“Did I do something terrible to Hag?”

“Do you think I’ll answer that honestly if you ask me?”

“I thought you might.”

Jedrick sighed.

‘I wondered if he was pretending to be naive to manipulate me, but now I see he’s genuinely an ignorant kid.’

Damion showed none of the dark intentions of someone like Aikob, whom Jedrick had just met, nor the sharp edges of Terdin.

Jedrick didn’t want to confront such a child with harsh judgment.

He decided to be honest.

“The one who did something terrible was Ikarum. Ikarum never liked Hag in the first place. But you gave him justification to treat her poorly. In that sense, your actions were excessive. However…”

Just before Damion could show his disappointment, Jedrick continued.

“Hag did do something. I don’t know exactly what it was, but… she did something.”

“Can’t you recall Triton’s words, or do you genuinely not know and are just stalling?”

“Is there a word in the southern dialect that means ‘to make four people dream the same dream’?”

“There’s a word for coincidence.”

“Convenient. So now you’re destroying an innocent temple to challenge that superstition of coincidence?”

“That’s not my thought.”

“Officially, the Archbishop got your permission. And you’re excusing it as his opinion. Convenient. That way, neither of you has to take responsibility.”

Jedrick unintentionally lashed out and turned away.

Damion replied in an even gloomier tone than before.

“I’m sorry.”

Jedrick wanted to say it was okay, but the words wouldn’t come out.

‘Maybe I’m the one who should apologize.’

He tried to speak up belatedly, but it was too late.

The Archbishop’s carriage pulled up alongside the prince, and the escorting knights surrounded them tightly, forcing Jedrick to step back.

Five royal knights, five knights of Born, and five soldiers attending the Archbishop formed the escort.

Behind Aikob’s carriage, ten mounted soldiers joined in.

Judging by the picks and hammers attached to their saddles, they were the workforce assigned to demolish the temple.

They were commanded by a knight named Boti.

Under Terdin’s command, Boti was the only knight present.

Jedrick wasn’t thrilled about the composition of the group.

Only Terdin’s men treated him as a chieftain.

‘They’re really going to destroy the temple. Am I making excuses for myself too? Should I have been more forceful in persuading the prince or opposing the Archbishop?’

Though resistance seemed futile, doing nothing made him feel complicit.

“Use this horse.”

Stuga brought over two horses and handed him one.

Jedrick silently mounted the horse.

“I saw you leave Elum village late earlier. What happened?”

Perhaps unintentionally, Stuga rode closely alongside Jedrick.

Their horses naturally distanced themselves slightly, but for a moment, as Stuga’s breath felt too close, Jedrick was unnerved.

“Nothing much. I just…”

Jedrick regretted speaking at all after saying "nothing much."

He struggled to find the rest of his words, and the brief moment felt harrowing.

“…checked that Olga got home safely. I didn’t want her to be harmed just because she was treated poorly.”

“Yes, I also worried about Olga’s condition in the end. In her current state, being confined might actually be safer.”

Stuga closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again.

Jedrick often noticed this brief closing of Stuga’s eyes but couldn’t figure out what it meant.

Was he organizing his thoughts?

Or listening to nearby sounds?

“But one thing has been bothering me.”

“Is it about Olga?”

“Yes, I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I haven’t had the chance to bring it up to the prince either.”

Given how the situation had escalated after Olga’s fortune-telling and the eruption of the volcano, it was understandable.

“Forward, march!”

At the front of the procession, the knight Boti shouted.

Damion gestured for Jedrick to guide the way to the temple.

Jedrick rode forward, and Stuga stayed beside him.

They passed the Archbishop’s carriage.

Inside the carriage, Aikob’s voice rang out.

“Why not ride with me, Charlon? A young lady shouldn’t ride so much; it’s bad for her health.”

Charlon was saying her farewells to Rusef nearby.

Though more of a worried admonition than a farewell, Rusef was urging her to be cautious, stay close to the prince in the dark cave, avoid all men, snakes, insects, men again, and even man-like beings.

When Aikob spoke, Rusef quickly responded.

“No, Archbishop. In my hometown, it’s not uncommon for women to ride horses. She’s used to it, so please don’t worry.”

“Oh, that’s not what I meant…”

Aikob clicked his tongue but didn’t insist.

“Then, follow carefully. The road seems unrefined and treacherous.”

Though Jedrick wanted to suggest that Aikob ride a horse instead of the carriage for such a rough journey, he passed without a word.

He moved ahead of Damion, prompting the royal knights to follow.

Damion, now surrounded, couldn’t get close to Jedrick.

Charlon also couldn’t stay near the prince and followed behind Aikob’s carriage.

Born’s knights formed a protective circle around her.

“What about Olga?”

Jedrick kept his voice low, just enough to be drowned out by the hoofbeats of the knights behind.

“When Olga read the fortune with the runes.”

Stuga, aware of the situation, spoke softly, barely audible to Jedrick alone.

“When was this? Didn’t we do it twice?”

“It was when Ehodin Ikarum dragged Olga before the prince.”

Stuga drew out the Maraka dagger still at his side.

Though no longer surprising, the blade remained wrapped in cloth to make it unrecognizable at a glance.

“When Olga gave the fortune to go to this temple… as she threw the runes to the ground, she kept her head bowed.”

“She did.”

Jedrick recalled the moment precisely, as it was recent and significant.

Damion, Charlon, and Jedrick all likely remembered it vividly.

Ikarum had pressured Olga, Damion scolded her, and the atmosphere grew tense.

Even the spirited Charlon had been too subdued to voice her thoughts, while Olga, trembling in fear, knelt low to the ground.

“At that moment, Olga smiled.”

“What?”

“She smiled. Bowed low, hiding from everyone’s eyes.”

“What do you mean… was there any reason to smile at that moment? I didn’t hear any laughter…”

“It was a barely audible laugh. To be precise, she suppressed it. That’s why her body trembled. She stopped as soon as she began interpreting the runes.”

Stuga didn’t waver in his account.

“Olga smiled while giving the fortune to come to this temple.”

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