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[Translator - Jjescus]
[Proofreader - Gun]
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Chapter 10: Curse
Until Terdin had Jedrick confined to the designated barracks, he made no mention of the curse.
He seemed indifferent to Ram’s death, which left Ram feeling both hurt and bewildered.
It was a sentiment he had never felt before, even when Baron Selken dismissed him outright.
Terdin stood for a moment, gazing toward the Skara Plains they had just left, his expression contemplative.
After a long pause, he finally spoke, as if reaching a decision.
“I need to see the wizards.”
Ram assumed Terdin meant to go alone and stayed put.
But Terdin, with a mildly irritated expression, motioned for him to follow.
Only then did Ram realize he was supposed to accompany him.
Rather than cutting through the center of the camp, Terdin purposefully skirted its edges, tracing a circular route.
The barracks were organized by rank and status, with lower-ranked soldiers barred from entering the areas reserved for higher ranks.
This was why Ram had struggled earlier to procure a leather pouch to carry Mantum's head.
Naturally, General Terdin had the authority to cross such boundaries without question.
But doing so would cause soldiers to drop whatever they were doing to salute him—whether they were eating, cooking, or even treating the wounded.
Ram had experienced this himself, often having to rush out of the barracks to salute when a superior officer appeared.
Someone like Count Vadio relished such moments and would deliberately parade through, much to the disdain of the rank-and-file soldiers.
In contrast, Terdin never ventured into the lower-ranked soldiers’ quarters.
Ram had assumed this was because Terdin looked down on them, but now he realized it was because Terdin avoided causing unnecessary disruptions by taking a longer route.
“Did you understand everything discussed during the negotiation earlier?”
Terdin asked as they walked.
Ram, unaccustomed to being questioned by his master, initially responded vaguely in such situations.
But he had since learned that Terdin’s questions were less about seeking answers and more about passing the time.
With that realization, Ram began answering honestly.
“I didn’t quite understand the term Elhorn.”
“It’s a rare term, even for those fluent in Geron’s language,”
Terdin said with a laugh before continuing his explanation.
“The Geron people call the leader of a village, or their chief, an Ehodin. Not all villages have one—only ten tribes, corresponding to ten villages, have Ehodins. And among those ten, they elect a single leader called Elhorn. It’s not a permanent position; it’s created only in times of great need when all the villages must unite. You could roughly translate it as ‘high chieftain’ in our language.”
“I thought Mantum was the title for their leader.”
“That’s tied to their mythology, and it’s a bit more complex. An Elhorn isn’t always chosen for war. It could be for famine relief or to punish an entire village. But in situations like ours…”
Terdin’s smile turned wry as he said,
“When an external invasion occurs, they give the Elhorn the title of Mantum, named after their god of war. I don’t know all the details, but you can ask the young Elhorn yourself when you have the chance. If you ever need to translate these terms into our language, use ‘chief’ and ‘high chieftain.’ People like Vadio won’t want to hear the original terms.”
“Yes, General. I’ll make sure the Elhorn understands those words too. It would be good for him to use them himself.”
“That’s a good idea. Though, he doesn’t strike me as the talkative type…”
Terdin trailed off, then added,
“Anything else you want to ask?”
“Well… it’s more of a suspicion than a question.”
“Speak your mind.”
“Isn’t he too young to be a high chieftain?”
“What part of him do you find suspicious?”
Terdin’s tone was probing.
“The Geron people value combat prowess, don’t they? I’ve heard they don’t serve anyone who hasn’t fought. Yet, this young Elhorn has no battle scars—none on his arms, legs, or face. If he’s so skilled that he’s never been wounded, wouldn’t they still scar themselves intentionally? That’s what I’ve heard about the Geron people. But this boy has unblemished skin. It seems strange to make someone like that their high chieftain. Could it be a ruse?”
“What makes you think that way?”
“I’m sorry if I overstepped.”
“No, I’m not reprimanding you. I’m just intrigued. I’ve dealt with countless slaves and led slave soldiers, yet none of them think the way you do. Even ordinary soldiers rarely think like that. I’m curious how you arrived at that conclusion.”
Ram couldn’t tell if Terdin was praising him or scolding him.
“It wasn’t a particularly complicated thought.”
“I understand. Your suspicion stems from a simple logic. But voicing such a suspicion? That’s a different matter entirely. Did Baron Selken teach you much?”
“The former master didn’t teach me directly. He merely took me along, so I saw and heard a lot about noble life.”
Terdin hummed thoughtfully.
“Your suspicion is valid. I had the same doubts. The Geron people don’t elevate anyone without combat experience. A chief’s son, for example, would have to prove himself on the battlefield first, starting as a foot soldier and surviving countless battles to earn the title. For a high chieftain, the standards would be even stricter. The title Mantum wouldn’t be given to anyone less accomplished than Adian, who held off the Triton Kingdom multiple times and even repelled the Imperial Army once.”
“So he’s a fraud?”
“There’s definitely something fishy going on.”
“Then why did you accept him, knowing that?”
“Accept him? Or tolerate him because I had no choice? Could I have just said, ‘You seem fake, go home’?”
The wizards’ barracks were situated at the farthest rear of the command area, the safest location in camp.
Ram had passed by during patrols but hadn’t expected wizards to reside there.
He’d imagined them turning into crows or frogs to watch from the shadows.
“I’ll tell you something, just between us—I dislike wizards,”
Terdin said, lowering his voice as they approached.
“I keep them around only for morale. At least they’re honest. After a long-ago battle, I once asked them what they had contributed. They answered, ‘Nothing.’ That’s why I brought them this time too.”
Ram didn’t immediately understand.
“They admitted to doing nothing, and you brought them along anyway? Because they were honest?”
“After a victory, everyone comes crawling out to claim credit. If someone says they did nothing, it means they’re capable of something extraordinary. Managing a mixed army like this teaches you to notice things like that—whether their honesty is genuine confidence or just a façade.”
“Then… does magic really exist?”
Ram hesitated before asking.
“And curses?”
He added silently in his mind.
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[Translator - Jjescus]
[Proofreader - Gun]
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“What do you think?”
"Lord Zenri often grew angry during the war when the wizards were nowhere to be seen. He would shout, ‘Where are the wizards? If they could drop meteors from the sky, set forests ablaze, or freeze rivers, we could wipe out the enemies so easily.’”
“I didn’t ask for your lord’s opinion.”
“Yes, I’ve heard him say that about wizards hundreds of times, but I never once thought it was true.”
The thought of Selken’s order to assassinate the witch came to mind.
At that time, the same question arose.
Could that witch really use magic?
Ram never found out.
He’d never failed to strike with his weapon before his opponent’s could reach him.
Terdin nodded and said,
“Fine, let’s see what grand advice those who wield that supposed magic can give about your supposed curse.”
Terdin entered the wizards’ tent, his steps brimming with determination.
Ram followed reluctantly.
As if launching an ambush, Terdin stormed into the tent and shouted,
“Wizard!”
There were two wizards inside.
One was old, and the other was young.
“If my memory serves, you warned me about something at the start of this war. What was it?”
The two wizards greeted him with decorum, unhurried despite Terdin’s abrupt question.
“We must first explain what we’ve done, but do you have time for that?”
Asked the older wizard.
“I have time, but not enough for you to dawdle.”
“Please, have a seat.”
The older wizard pulled out a single chair and addressed Ram.
“You may leave now.”
Ram waited for Terdin’s order rather than heeding the wizard’s words.
“He’s my shadow. Let him stay.”
“Do not carelessly use the word ‘shadow’ in this place. In lands where curses and spirits are rampant, even a single word carries great implications.”
“Do not carelessly use the word ‘warning’ in my presence.”
Ram had never seen Terdin this sharp.
“We’ll be discussing things the military keeps secret. Is it truly fine for this child to hear?”
The wizard confirmed.
“This child may hear it all.”
The old wizard gestured to the younger one, who brought over two sacks filled with powder.
The older wizard reached into both sacks, pulled out handfuls of powder, and sprinkled them on the dirt floor, where a circular pattern had been drawn.
The powder had a distinct smell—one was colored ash, and the other was powdered stone.
The powders mingled, drifting in the air like dust before slowly settling on the ground.
The wizard observed the process with meticulous patience.
“There are dozens of ritual tools used by the shamans of Geron, but these two powders are among the most essential. We’ve kept them since the war began, hoping to understand the enemy.”
Terdin glanced disinterestedly at the powders and asked,
“What can you do with them?”
The tone suggested he doubted they could do anything at all.
“I’ve heard they’re used in death curses, but I don’t know how they work—or even if such curses exist.”
Terdin exhaled sharply.
“You wizards always claim ignorance.”
“You’re absolutely right. And we aren’t afraid to admit it. Ignorance allows us to observe, study, and ultimately understand.”
“Ignorance to gain understanding... Hmm, I like that idea. So, have you learned anything?”
“Unfortunately, we’ve discovered nothing about these powders.”
The old wizard mixed the powders again, tossing them into the air.
This time, the particles danced briefly before settling.
Ram watched in fascination, but Terdin waved his hand dismissively, as if swatting away dust.
“We cannot use magic powerful enough to sway the course of a war. The same goes for their shamans. However, there is one difference between us and them. They can kill with magic.”
“And you cannot?”
“It’s forbidden. Even if we could, neither of us here can do it.”
“The soldiers would be disappointed to hear that.”
“They’ve heard it countless times. They keep coming to us, asking if we can kill the enemy with magic. Some have even begged us to kill Mantum.”
“A commander said that? Who?”
“May I name him?”
“Go ahead.”
“Count Vadio.”
“And what did you tell him?”
“The same thing we tell everyone. We can’t. He stormed off, furious—not because we couldn’t, but because he believed we could and refused to.”
“Do their shamans truly have the ability to kill?”
“Yes. There are definitely death curses.”
Terdin asked, his voice steady but with a serious undertone,
“Answer clearly. Can magic kill?”
“There are many ways it could.”
The old wizard nodded slowly, deliberately, multiple times.
“Yes, it can.”
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Jjescus]
[Proofreader - Gun]
Join our Discord for release updates!w
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