Shadow Oath

Chapter 6. Terrdin

At the unknown soldier’s reply, Adun (Adjutant) didn’t respond.

It was something that no one could easily react to.

But it was something Terrdin couldn’t ignore.

Terrdin hurriedly stepped out of the tent.

However, once he stepped outside, he clasped his hands behind his back, adopted a leisurely stance, and spoke as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“That’s an interesting story.”

Through the flickering torches, the young soldier’s face came into view.

His face was covered in mud, he wasn’t wearing armor, and his lanky limbs and tall figure made him stand out.

His expression was gloomy, and his overly submissive demeanor, amplified further by Terrdin’s presence, made him appear downright servile.

The moment Terrdin saw him, he dismissed any faint hope or doubt he might have had.

An uneducated, uncultured, impoverished, and desperate young man from the lower class couldn’t possibly have accomplished something significant.

The enemy commander’s head? Did he just happen to kill a passing Geran patrol soldier? If so, he could simply praise him and send him on his way.

At worst, he might have killed a local farmer and lied about it, and even that would be a relief.

“What did you say you had?”

Terrdin gestured with his chin toward the sack in the youth’s hands.

“The head of the enemy commander.”

The young man repeated his answer.

“We have several people who could be called enemy commanders. Whose head is it among them?”

Terrdin asked with amusement.

But unknowingly, a trace of fear crept into his voice.

‘God, I’m hoping this young man is lying.’

Terrdin was terrified that the word “Mantum” might come out of this filthy young man’s mouth.

It couldn’t be allowed to happen.

Not here, at least.

‘There are too many listeners… I let my guard down, judging by this boy’s appearance and demeanor.’

If an enemy had approached with a dagger in hand, Terrdin would have instinctively blocked it. He had the experience for that.

But this was a type of experience Terrdin had never encountered before.

“As far as I know, this head belongs to Adian Mantum.”

The guards and the adjutant were aghast.

It wasn’t because they believed it was really Mantum’s head, but because of the sheer audacity of the young man to utter such an outrageous claim.

Terrdin felt dizzy, but he needed to appear composed.

“Do you have proof?”

The young soldier lifted a massive axe.

The guards immediately raised their spears in alarm.

The young soldier slowly, almost exaggeratedly, set the axe down on the ground.

The proof was undeniable.

The axe alone was enough.

‘Stop this, now!’

The adjutant and the guards hadn’t recognized the axe yet.

They probably thought the young man was simply disarming.

“And here’s the head.”

The young man handed over a leather pouch.

Drops of liquid dripped from the damp bottom of the sack.

Though the torches illuminated it, it wasn’t clear if the liquid was blood or dirty water.

“It’s dark outside. Come in; it’ll be clearer inside.”

Terrdin gestured to Adun, signaling him silently.

‘Stay on guard. Keep silent. All of you.’

Adun nodded belatedly, his face tense as he finally realized the gravity of the situation.

Something serious was unfolding.

Terrdin extended a hand toward one of the guards.

“Hand me that axe.”

The guard tried to pick up the axe, but with a surprised exclamation, he dropped it.

Flustered, he set down his spear and used both hands to lift it.

When the guard brought the battle axe over with both hands, Terrdin held it in one hand.

It was so much heavier than it looked that even Terrdin almost dropped it once.

Examining the blade and the handle’s engraving, he confirmed it.

It was Mantum’s axe.

‘I always worried if my aging arms could withstand a clash with this axe… and now it’s in my hands. Like this… of all ways.’

“Follow me.”

Terrdin walked into the tent.

The young soldier followed sluggishly.

Aside from scouts rushing in for situational reports, ordinary soldiers had never entered this tent.

Even though it was the tent of the Grand General, there was nothing particularly special about it.

It was slightly larger, but only to accommodate a conference table.

The bed and its blankets were no different from those of other officers.

However, its symbolism was important.

It was not a space ordinary soldiers could casually enter.

The young soldier, upon entering the tent, immediately moved to stand in a corner.

No one instructed him to do so, yet his instincts led him to take a lowly position.

He was an unusual fellow, no doubt.

Even conscripted serfs or soldiers who underwent basic military training didn’t grasp such subtle etiquette.

“What’s your name?”

“Ram.”

Terrdin adjusted his grip on the axe multiple times before setting it down on the table.

The wooden table creaked under the weight.

Under the lamp’s light, Terrdin scrutinized the young man’s appearance.

His looks were ordinary, and his demeanor was calm.

If he had really slain the enemy commander, he should have been more boastful.

Terrdin lit another lamp and gestured to the table.

“Take out what’s inside the sack.”

Ram unfolded the cloth and retrieved the head inside.

His movements showed no pride or excitement, as though he had done something great.

It was as if he would have retrieved a potato in the same manner if asked.

It was unheard of for someone his age.

Men under thirty usually exaggerated their achievements, acting as if they’d accomplished more than they truly had.

But this young man displayed none of that.

When Terrdin saw the head Ram retrieved, he let out an involuntary groan of anguish.

“It really is Adian.”

Judging by the severed neck, the head had been separated for over two hours.

Though he couldn’t determine the exact time, it was clear Adian had died tonight.

The monster that struck terror into the Triton army, the ferocious beast of the battlefield, the “Bloody Axe,” the Geran hero adorned with countless nicknames—now lay on the table without warning.

That left two possibilities.

A clever fake.

Or a lookalike.

‘Ah, there’s a third: magic.’

Terrdin chuckled and shook his head.

“No, this can’t be Adian. Just a month ago, he rejected my negotiation proposal with a hearty laugh. How could the man who did that now lie here so pitifully?”

Terrdin’s voice grew louder, prompting Adun’s worried voice from outside.

“Are you all right, General?”

Terrdin shouted without realizing it.

“I told you to stand by!”

“My apologies!”

Adun’s footsteps retreated from the tent’s entrance.

Terrdin sank into a chair next to the table bearing Mantum’s head.

‘They’ve seen too much.’

Terrdin regretted it deeply.

The moment he first saw the young man, he should have secretly brought him inside.

‘Though the circumstances didn’t allow it….’

How could he trust the ridiculous words of a muddy young man he didn’t know and meet him alone?

“Was it something you did on your own?”

When Terrdin asked, Ram finally opened his mouth.

“No.”

“Then whose orders were they?”

“They were the orders of Master Zenri Selkon, whom I serve.”

“Then you must be a knight sent by Baron Selkon.”

“No.”

“Not from Baron Selkon?”

“I mean, I’m not a knight.”

“Then what are you?”

“A slave.”

“What?”

“I’m a slave that Lord Selkon assigned to Master Zenri to assist him.”

For a moment, Terrdin couldn’t comprehend what he had just heard.

“As far as I know, Ashua Selkon has only one son.”

“That’s correct.”

“And for his only son’s assistant, instead of a knight or even a squire, he assigned a slave?”

Ram looked flustered, as if searching for the right words.

His expression suggested he didn’t understand the question itself.

Perhaps someone of higher rank and proper education would be needed for clearer communication.

“Where is Zenri?”

Ram closed his eyes tightly, as if bracing for what was to come, and answered.

“He’s dead.”

“I see. I’ll need an explanation of what happened. Speak in detail.”

Terrdin spoke without much emotion.

“…Where should I start?”

“Was killing Mantum your idea?”

“No. Master Zenri, with his brilliant mind, foresaw that this war would end if Mantum were killed.”

Terrdin burst out laughing.

When Ram flinched and stopped speaking, Terrdin waved his hand apologetically.

“Go on.”

“So, Master Zenri ordered me to kill Mantum. And so…”

Ram hesitated for a moment, seemingly unsure how to continue, then added.

“…I killed him.”

Terrdin felt irritated.

He wanted to hear the story, resolve it, and handle the situation quickly.

“Explain in detail.”

“Apologies. I’m not sure how detailed or clear I should be. I’m not good at organizing stories.”

“Speak as it comes to mind, even if it’s disorganized. If there are unclear parts, I’ll ask questions. If it’s messy, I’ll organize it. Just speak.”

Terrdin spoke firmly.

“But don’t lie or exaggerate. If you fabricate even one detail, you won’t be able to salvage the rest. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand.”

Ram bowed his head once and continued to speak in a submissive posture.

“At first, we planned to use the battle at the coast a week ago.”

“Planned to use it? For what?”

“To kill Mantum.”

“You mean you intended to kill him during the battle a week ago?”

“Yes.”

“The battle led by Mantum’s elite troops. Do you know why that battle took place there?”

Terrdin asked, testing how much of this slave’s story he could trust.

If he were merely stupid, he might not even be able to convey the information he knew properly.

If that were the case, his story couldn’t be taken at face value.

But if he were simply bad at communicating, the content of his words might still be reliable.

“I heard that securing that coastline would give us a dock for easy troop and supply transport. Using the sea, we could station soldiers north of the Targef River and start the battle from beyond the stream.”

Terrdin nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“If we lost that position, the enemy would establish a stronghold there instead, and we’d have no choice but to move our forces a day’s march back.”

Ram quickly added, “But this is not my knowledge—it’s all what my brilliant master told me.”

“Do you have to emphasize his brilliance every time?”

“My apologies.”

Terrdin scratched his chin.

“So, you tried to kill Mantum that day?”

“Yes. But on the day of the battle, I couldn’t approach Mantum. My unit was ordered to stand by at the rear and defend the backlines. A real attack came to the rear, and in the chaos, I had to protect my master and couldn’t get close to Mantum. I did, however, see his face. So I decided to try again later. On the first day, I figured out a way to cross the stream. On the second day, I scouted a route to avoid the wolves patrolling the area. And on the third day…”

“Wait, wolves?”

“To enter the enemy camp, I had to find a way to avoid the wolves, which have an excellent sense of smell.”

“So you violated military law, which prohibits a soldier from leaving camp.”

“My apologies. My master’s orders were more important than military law to me.”

Ram quickly added, “I’m sorry for my poor phrasing. Please don’t let Master Zenri take any blame.”

Terrdin found it amusing.

Someone who spoke this eloquently, yet pretended to be terrible at speaking—it was absurd.

Ordinary soldiers couldn’t string words together like this.

Most froze up when speaking to someone of higher rank or nobility.

Terrdin began to suspect that this “slave” might actually belong to a high-status family lying about his identity.

‘Then again, high status doesn’t guarantee eloquence. At least this one seems unlikely to distort the situation.’

Terrdin gestured for him to continue.

“After determining which tent Mantum was in, I scouted an escape route. And today is the fourth day.”

Ram, seemingly uncomfortable with Terrdin’s piercing gaze, lowered his head again before continuing.

“Master Zenri insisted on coming along. He said that if I beheaded Mantum, I had to personally deliver the head to General Terrdin.”

“He planned to take credit for your work.”

“No. It’s only right that the achievements of a slave belong to their master.”

“That’s one way to look at it. What happened next?”

“I entered Mantum’s tent, beheaded him, and brought the axe as proof. However, it seems Master Zenri, who was hiding in the reeds of the enemy camp, was discovered by the wolves. By the time I arrived, he was already dead. Or at least, that’s what it seemed based on what I overheard.”

“You understand Geran?”

“Only enough to barely make sense of what they say.”

That’s surprising.

“And after that?”

“I wanted to confirm his death, but enemy patrols began to converge, so I had no choice but to come alone.”

“And that’s how you brought Mantum’s head to me.”

“Yes.”

“You entered the enemy camp alone and brought back the enemy commander’s head.”

“Yes.”

“You did all of this by yourself?”

“Ah, but the orders were all Master Zenri’s…”

“Was Zenri with you when you beheaded Mantum?”

“No.”

“Did Zenri hold Mantum down while you stabbed him?”

“No.”

“Did Zenri intentionally distract the wolves while you killed Mantum?”

“No.”

“Then this was all done by you alone.”

Ram couldn’t respond.

Terrdin placed a hand on his forehead.

“Alone.”

Terrdin murmured to himself.

“By himself…”

This war, which had dragged on for over two years, had just ended at the hands of a single young man.

Not a royal assassin trained in secret, but a mere slave from the small domain of Selkon.

It was the first time Terrdin had ever agonized this long over the fate of a single soldier.

‘What should I do with him?’