Shadow Oath

Chapter 5: The Sound of a Trumpet

Ram ran across the grasslands and arrived at a stream.

He was about to jump in and cross when he stopped.

The sack containing Mantum’s head would get submerged.

It was already a dead man’s head, so why would it matter if it got a little wet?

He quickly realized that wasn’t the issue.

A human head was heavier than he thought.

Not to mention the axe.

To cross as quickly as possible, he needed to reduce the weight.

Though there was no sign of pursuit, Ram felt someone was chasing him and hurriedly hurled the sack across the stream with all his strength.

The sack containing the head landed somewhere in the bushes on the other side.

Then, he threw the axe.

It was much heavier, but it spun as it flew, landing farther than the sack.

Ram silently swam across the Targef River.

As soon as he crossed the stream, he searched for the sack.

It wasn’t visible.

He was sure it was somewhere around here.

He searched for a long time in the darkness but couldn’t find it.

Did it fall into the stream because he didn’t throw it properly?

By now, it must have floated far away…

In that case, coming back after dawn would be pointless.

Instead, he decided to find the axe, which wouldn’t matter much even if he didn’t.

The sack containing the head wasn’t near it either.

“‘If Zenri dies, so will you.’”

Baron Selkon’s words echoed in his head again.

Ram held his face in his hands.

Mantum’s blood, which he hadn’t wiped off after killing him, smeared his face.

No tears came.

But his sobbing grew louder.

When he killed someone on his master’s orders, meat would be served for dinner that night.

Ram would share the meat with the other slaves.

The other slaves didn’t know why only Ram received meat.

Instead of gratitude, they looked at him with jealousy.

Still, Ram didn’t eat any of it and shared it all.

Eating meat after killing someone felt like eating the person he had killed.

Today, he had killed someone as always, but this time, it felt completely different.

Now it was his turn to die.

Should he run away?

If he followed the stream and crossed the grasslands, he would eventually reach somewhere.

It might take days or weeks, but wouldn’t there be some place where people lived?

Or perhaps heading north to the volcanic region, where even the Gerans didn’t live, would be a better option.

It was said stepping on that soil would kill someone in less than three days.

Maybe it would be better to wait for death there.

Ram cried without tears.

I couldn’t protect the young master.

Now I’m going to die.

At that moment, a trumpet sound echoed from the sky.

It was so loud that even those without Ram’s sensitive hearing could hear it.

It felt as if the entire sky was reverberating.

No, it felt like the earth itself was trembling.

At first, he thought it was thunder.

But it sounded nothing like thunder.

There weren’t even clouds.

The sky was filled only with stars and the moon, so where was this sound coming from?

Were the stars falling?

Was the moon breaking apart?

“The Trumpet of the Apocalypse?”

Ram remembered following his master and other nobles to a shrine on Sundays.

Once the nobles entered, the doors were firmly shut, and the slaves who served them waited outside.

The lower classes were barred from hearing the noble words and hymns.

But Ram heard everything.

The other teachings were dull, but the hymns were pleasant to listen to.

And stories about the apocalypse mentioned in the Revelation were fascinating.

When the apocalypse approached, God would command an angel to blow a trumpet.

Then, the first dragon would descend to the earth and burn people with fire.

The next dragon would bring ice.

The dragon after that would spread poison gas.

Only those full of faith would grow white horns on their heads, sprout white wings, and be carried to heaven on white horses.

Each of the nine trumpet blasts would summon a dragon to scorch the earth, freeze the seas, and spread disease.

When the ninth trumpet sounded, the world would end.

Ram unconsciously tried to count the trumpet blasts.

But the sound was continuous, so he couldn’t count.

Eventually, he wondered if it was a trumpet or the voice of God itself.

After all, humans couldn’t comprehend the words of God.

It felt more like a vibration than a sound.

Though there was no sensation on his skin, he felt as if the earth and mountains were shaking.

“Mantum was called the God of War here. Then, I’ve killed the God of War. Maybe that’s why the other gods are angry. Then, this sound must be their wrath directed at me.”

Trembling with fear, Ram stepped back and stumbled over something.

He thought it was a rock, but it was the sack containing Mantum’s head.

The heavy weight in his hand snapped him back to reality.

Whether it was the wrath of God or the trumpet of a dragon, he had to do something about this.

“I have to give this to someone.”

According to Zenri, someone of Ram’s status couldn’t even meet a commander.

Should he give it to any soldier?

What about the quartermaster who lent him the leather pouch?

The quartermaster might give it to the unit commander, who would pass it to the general, and then to General Terrdin.

“When you kill someone, never tell the other slaves or stewards. Report directly to me.”

Ram recalled Baron Selkon’s command.

Whenever Ram said he needed to meet the baron directly, even the chief steward or captain of the guard allowed him through, albeit reluctantly.

Regarding this task, no one but the baron needed to know.

It had to be that way.

For the baron’s safety.

And for Ram’s safety.

Now that Zenri was gone, there was only one person Ram could think of who was on par with his master.

“I have to go to General Terrdin.”

Ram thought that meeting Terrdin might be harder than killing Mantum.

The vibrations in the sky continued until Ram reached the allied camp and then suddenly stopped as if it had all been a lie.

* * *

“When is the military supply arriving?”

General Terrdin asked.

“Tomorrow…”

The adjutant’s voice was filled with despair.

“…I’ll send another messenger, General.”

“Don’t bother with that. I was just checking.”

Despair had a way of spreading.

Sending messengers, checking remaining supplies… if commanders acted unsettled, it was inevitable that soldiers would feel anxious.

“I must be getting old. Things I would have kept to myself, I now say out loud.”

He was exhausted.

It wasn’t his body but his mind that was worn down by the endless war.

The Gerans’ resistance was unyielding, and allied morale had plummeted.

“If winter comes again, we’ll have no choice but to withdraw the army unless something changes before then…”

Terrdin suddenly remembered and asked,

“More importantly, about the sound we just heard from the sky…”

It was hard to even describe.

A strange vibration and noise… there were no better words for it.

“…Have you ever heard anything like it?”

“I can say with absolute certainty that in my thirty years of life, I have never heard such a sound. Not on the battlefield, not during travels, not at home, not in dreams, never in my life.”

The adjutant emphasized his point.

“Yes. I’ll have to say the same—that in my fifty years, I’ve never heard such a sound in war, travel, or sleep.”

Even as he said it, the adjutant repeated himself, as though once wasn’t enough.

“I’ve never even heard of anyone mentioning they heard such a sound. To emphasize further…”

“There’s no need to emphasize further.”

“My apologies.”

“Do you think such a sound is common in the north?”

“Shall I interrogate the Geran prisoners we’ve captured?”

“No, leave that for later… What did the patrols say?”

The adjutant had stepped out during the meeting to confirm that.

“The moment the sound was heard, we thought the savages might be bringing some extraordinary weapon, so we…”

“A weapon?”

“Something like magical weapons of the northern gods, beyond anything we could imagine.”

It was an absurd notion, but given how strange the sound was, such thoughts were understandable.

“And?”

“And we kept watch but found nothing.”

Of course.

“What about the soldiers? What are they saying?”

“Most of them were half-awake, and they’re all spouting odd ideas.”

“Odd ideas?”

“I overheard soldiers gathered around campfires sharing their thoughts. Most of them talked about the trumpet of the apocalypse.”

He expected that. It was also the thing he worried about most.

Mentioning gods could turn good plans and advantageous strategies into a mess.

“The nine trumpets of the dragon?”

“Wasn’t it seven?”

“It’s nine. Aside from that, were there any other theories?”

“The most unusual one was about the thunder god worshipped by the Gerans. Someone suggested it might be their god arriving because we were close to victory. Makes sense since the Gerans always chant that name when they fight. Was it Rahim?”

“Rahm.”

The father of the gods.

“Yes, they said Rahm appeared to aid the Gerans. It wasn’t serious enough to warrant punishment, but I told them to stop before everyone started agreeing with it. Should I have punished them?”

“Let it go. Anything else?”

The adjutant recalled for a moment before replying,

“That’s about it. No one seems to know anything specific.”

Of course not.

“Where was the sound coming from?”

Terrdin wanted to pinpoint the source of the sound. He didn’t want to believe it was coming from the sky, as that would only tie it to gods again.

“Everyone pointed in different directions. Most just said the sky. No one specified east, west, north, or south. A couple of them claimed it came from the ground, though…”

“What about the enemy’s movements?”

“There doesn’t seem to be anything unusual, but we’ve doubled the patrols just in case.”

“We can’t even let the patrols rest… What in the world is going on…”

Terrdin showed something to his adjutant he never should have: doubt and hesitation.

A battlefield commander must never display doubt, even if they know their strategy is flawed. Nor should they show hesitation. But now, he had no choice.

“I’m really feeling my age.”

Once this war ended, Terrdin wanted to retire.

He no longer wanted to wrestle with such dilemmas.

He wanted to escape the stench of blood and stop thinking about death every day.

“Shall I call a meeting of the entire command?”

The adjutant cautiously suggested.

Terrdin waved it off.

“At this hour? They’re probably sleeping for the first time in a while. Let them rest. Maybe it was just a landslide or a volcanic eruption. Wasn’t there a volcano up north?”

“That’s possible. Last year’s eruption caused chaos, too.”

Although the sound back then wasn’t like this.

“Even so, exchanging ideas might…”

“We had three meetings yesterday and three the day before. That’s enough. There’s no need to make a fuss over a single sound.”

It wasn’t like holding a meeting would provide any answers.

“You go and rest, too, Adun.”

“You should rest first. You haven’t slept in days, General.”

“I know. Once you’ve rested, I’ll rest next.”

“Understood. Then, I’ll…”

Just then, the voice of a sentry came from outside.

“Who goes there?”

This was followed by a hesitant but careful response.

“An attendant serving Lord Zenri Selkon of the 4th Infantry.”

“What’s your business?”

“I wish to see the General.”

Terrdin motioned to Adun, who quickly understood and stepped outside to address the situation.

“What’s all this commotion?”

“This soldier is approaching with a suspicious item.”

Terrdin closed his eyes and focused on the voices outside the tent.

“What are you carrying, soldier?”

“I cannot say.”

“What did you say? Are you out of your mind?”

“My apologies, but I must meet General Terrdin.”

“For what purpose?”

“I must speak directly with the General.”

The voice was hesitant but firm.

Judging by the voice beyond the tent, the soldier seemed quite young. Perhaps eighteen?

“A mere infantryman can’t bypass their immediate superior to meet me. You’ve already met me, and now you’re asking to meet the General?”

Adun’s tone was sharper than usual, but it couldn’t be helped, given the tense hour and situation.

“But what is really going on here?”

It was rare for a soldier of such low rank to request a direct audience with Terrdin.

In two years of war, there had never been such an instance.

As Terrdin tried to recall if it had happened in past battles, he came up with almost nothing.

At best, there was an instance where a low-ranking soldier who didn’t recognize Terrdin asked him, “Where’s the General?”

But now, this soldier, who hadn’t even seen his face, was boldly asking to meet the commander of the Kingdom of Triton’s army.

“What could this mean?”

Terrdin was struck with unease.

An unprecedented event.

This wasn’t a matter to dismiss as, “How dare a mere soldier…”

Perhaps this really was something that needed to be discussed in secret.

This conversation had to be stopped.

Terrdin abruptly stood up.

“I came to deliver this.”

But the soldier had already spoken, and Adun’s question quickly followed.

“What is that?”

Before Terrdin could say, “Adun, bring that soldier in,” the soldier answered.

“The enemy commander’s head.”