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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Jjescus]
[Proofreader - Gun]
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Chapter 13: Vadio (2)
As soon as Vadio left Terdin’s tent, he began searching for Knight Jenavin.
For a noble of his rank, such minor tasks should naturally have been delegated to a servant.
Regardless of differences in affiliations, summoning a knight or two to his tent and lounging on his bed while receiving their reports would have been the norm.
Yet Vadio chose to do it himself.
He had no patience for the formalities of giving instructions to a servant, waiting as they sluggishly carried them out, and then hearing a report upon their return, all while anticipating Jenavin's eventual appearance to meet him with proper etiquette.
Who had the time for that?
With just a couple of inquiries, Vadio quickly located Jenavin.
"Knight Jenavin, I hear you attended to the chieftain,"
Vadio said in a friendly tone as he approached him.
Jenavin was in the middle of discussing which knight would lead the royal procession.
It was a matter of great importance, but when Vadio called him, he left his companions and stepped aside.
“Yes, Count. I did.”
“What exactly did you do?”
“Nothing of consequence.”
“I’d like to hear about that inconsequential work. Specifically, what did you do?”
Jenavin furrowed his brow, recalling the events.
“I brought him a meal once… prepared water for him to wash when he requested it… and that’s about it.”
“Did you notice any attempts by that barbarian to pry into our army’s secrets?”
“None at all.”
“How can you be so sure? He might’ve asked subtle questions that you failed to notice.”
“He didn’t say a single word.”
“Not a single word?”
“Yes. The General mentioned that he might know a bit of the southern tongue, but there was no way to confirm it. I didn’t speak to him either, and he didn’t poke his head outside the tent.”
Vadio nodded as if he understood.
‘True, even if he’s a spy, he wouldn’t act right after being captured.’
“Do you have any idea how old this chieftain might be? With that elaborate helmet he wore when captured, I couldn’t tell at all.”
“I’m not sure either. His face looks young, but those barbarians have such peculiar features.”
Though Vadio was losing interest in Jenavin’s words, he feigned curiosity.
“What’s his condition like?”
“For someone captured, he’s remarkably composed. I was once taken prisoner myself, and even though I knew my parents would pay a ransom to free me, I still sat in a corner trembling. But this one—it’s as if he’s here to rule over us, not as a captive…”
Jenavin abruptly stopped, as though he realized he had said too much.
“Apologies.”
“No need. Thank you. You may return to your duties.”
Vadio gestured magnanimously, and Jenavin eagerly returned to his companions, resuming their lengthy debate over who would lead the procession.
That discussion would likely drag on for two more hours.
Without delay, Vadio made his way to the tent where the chieftain was confined.
Situated not far from Terdin’s tent, it stood isolated at least twenty paces from the others for ease of surveillance.
Two guards stood watch, and at that moment, “Terdin’s Shadow” emerged from the tent, holding empty dishes presumably used for serving food.
Suddenly, Vadio felt a pang of hunger.
He realized he hadn’t eaten while running around.
‘Perfect timing!’
Striding purposefully, Vadio approached the man.
The figure had his face concealed with a helmet and a hood.
Vadio realized he could barely recall the man’s eye color, let alone his hair color.
It was black, as he now noticed, though the hood obscured whether it was long or short.
Upon seeing Vadio, the man stepped aside and bowed his head, standing as if to naturally guide him to the tent’s entrance.
Vadio changed his mind.
‘I’ll see that chieftain’s face first. This one can wait.’
Vadio addressed the man.
“Wait here. I have something to discuss with you.”
The man responded obediently.
“Yes, Count.”
Just as casually as he had entered Terdin’s tent earlier, Vadio headed toward the chieftain’s tent.
But as he was about to step inside, two spears crossed in front of his chest in an X, blocking his way.
“You cannot enter, Count.”
Inside the tent, the chieftain sat on the bare ground.
He had no blankets but seemed entirely unbothered.
Stripped of his helmet and armor, he wore only a thin piece of cloth that exposed his shoulders and narrow waist.
His pale, smooth skin—common among the sun-deprived northerners—made him seem unlike the savage northern warriors Vadio was used to.
The long red hair cascading over his shoulders shimmered, making him almost seem more woman than man.
‘My son is fifteen, but this one looks even younger. Then again, my son’s stocky build and rough skin make him look older... This one must be at least sixteen.’
Why would the Gerons follow such a young leader?
They despised anything that appeared weak.
The boyish chieftain stared intently at Vadio.
Though Vadio wanted to enter and question him, the crossed spears made it impossible.
“Move these spears,”
Vadio ordered sternly.
The guards stood firm.
“You cannot, Count.”
“Do you know who I am?”
Vadio bellowed.
The guard glanced at Terdin’s Shadow and said,
“General Terdin strictly ordered that no one but ‘that man’ may meet the chieftain.”
Frustrated, Vadio stepped back from the tent.
Even then, the guards didn’t lower their spears.
‘Insolent fools. You two are the first to go the moment I become the commander.’
Vadio turned to Terdin’s Shadow, who had obediently remained where he was told.
Without warning, Vadio grabbed the man by the collar.
Though he didn’t grip hard, the man stumbled forward, his lightness surprising Vadio.
Despite his large frame, the man was surprisingly light.
On closer inspection, his limbs were thin, and his neck was slender.
Compared to the burly knights Vadio kept in his retinue, this man was like a scarecrow stuffed with straw.
“Who are you?”
Vadio demanded, glaring into the shadowed eyes behind the helmet.
“I don’t understand what you mean, sir…”
Before the man could finish his sentence, Vadio struck the dish he was holding out of his hands.
The wooden dish hit the ground with a loud clatter, scattering pieces everywhere.
“Answer me now. How are you able to stand behind General Terdin?”
“That’s because…”
The man hesitated, searching for words.
Suspicious.
His actions and demeanor didn’t suggest nobility, yet he was clearly using his head.
Lower-ranked soldiers or commoners typically didn’t think this way.
“…Because I am the General’s shadow…”
“Don’t spout nonsense. How can someone like you be entrusted with treating the enemy chieftain? This task should at least be handled by a commander. That boy may be young, but he’s effectively a king among his people. Who are you to be given such responsibility?”
“I don’t know.”
The man cowered, acting no different from the slaves Vadio owned in his domain.
Vadio pressed harder.
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Jjescus]
[Proofreader - Gun]
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“You didn’t exist until recently. Then suddenly, you appeared as this so-called shadow. You showed up right after Mantum’s death, didn’t you? Is there a connection? And what about the trumpet sound from the heavens the day before? Is that related? Which is it?”
The man failed to respond.
“Can’t answer? Disobedience to a superior is punishable by summary execution.”
Vadio placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, a clear warning.
The guards standing outside the barracks didn’t move, even at the sight of Vadio’s sword.
Although he didn’t actually have the authority to dispose of any soldier at will, they couldn’t stop the count’s blade either.
Finally, the man spoke.
“Shadows have no mouth.”
“Then what is that mouth yammering away now?”
The man bowed his head and continued to grovel.
“I am merely a shadow. I am nothing, and because I am nothing, I can say nothing.”
He was a strange one, no matter how you looked at him.
Despite all the groveling, he didn’t seem servile.
And even though Vadio berated him, he managed to say everything he wanted to say.
“You must be doing this because you trust General Terdin, but I’ll uncover your identity soon enough. Then you’ll pay the price for stealing ‘my position.’”
Vadio drew his sword.
He didn’t unsheathe it, though.
With Terdin’s two loyal dogs watching over the barracks, he couldn’t lay a hand on the general’s shadow.
Instead, Vadio tapped the man’s helmet-covered nose lightly with the pommel of his sword.
“Just wait until then.”
The man asked in a hesitant voice,
“S-sir, I’m not sure what position of yours I’ve supposedly taken.”
That cautious response triggered the fury Vadio had barely been holding back.
“The one negotiating our surrender should have been Rill Vadio, lord of Norallin!”
Vadio raised his sword to strike but barely restrained himself, turning away instead.
‘I need to figure out who this guy is. Then I can uncover what Terdin is hiding.’
But how?
Vadio quickly recalled that all personnel records were kept in the supply depot.
Once again, he decided to act personally.
He had no time to summon an attendant, explain what needed to be done, wait for a report, and then correct any mistakes.
Who had time for that?
“Quartermaster!”
The quartermaster came running as soon as he saw Vadio from a distance, sparing the count the trouble of approaching.
The supply depot was practically empty, so there wasn’t much need for strict security anyway.
“Yes, my lord!”
“I want to see the records of the man acting as General Terdin’s shadow.”
“Shadow, my lord?”
The quartermaster didn’t even seem to understand what Vadio was talking about.
“You haven’t seen him? The man who’s been staying close to General Terdin recently. Always wearing a helmet to cover his face and a hood to conceal his head.”
“I’ve been working here since the very start of the war, my lord, but I’ve only seen General Terdin fewer than three times.”
“Then you haven’t seen him?”
“No, sir. Besides, isn’t most of the commander’s work handled by Aedun, the lieutenant? I see the lieutenant often, but he’s never brought anyone wearing a helmet and hood. Not even when he came here a few days ago to delete records.”
“Delete records?”
The quartermaster quickly covered his mouth, realizing his slip.
“It was classified as military intelligence, my lord.”
Vadio let out a deliberately loud laugh.
“And who am I? I’m a commander privy to the most sensitive secrets without needing your permission, an administrative officer of the northern region appointed directly by the crown. Every record you write passes through me to the royal court, and every record you delete is essentially deleted through me. Your little actions as quartermaster don’t concern me much. They’re just a curiosity.”
The quartermaster scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
“Yes, my lord, but I was strictly instructed to keep this matter confidential.”
Vadio’s expression hardened, and his tone turned icy.
“You’ve been in this role since the start of the war, haven’t you? Then your pay has likely been delayed for over a year.”
“Well, yes, that’s true...”
The quartermaster scratched his head again, nervously.
“A year is long enough for you to forget that it’s me who stamps the certification for your salary.”
The quartermaster’s face turned pale.
“If you die during the war, that certificate will be all that’s left for your wife and children. Did you know that many lords forge those certificates? Changing a single digit can turn 100 nobles into 10, and swapping a word can transform golden nobles into silver crowns.”
Vadio patted the quartermaster’s shoulder.
“Of course, the opposite is possible too. What’s your compensation amount?”
The quartermaster flinched as he replied,
“Including winter bonuses, 35 nobles and 50 crowns.”
“What? 50 nobles and 35 crowns? Be careful not to mix up the numbers. You know how important that is, don’t you?”
The quartermaster swallowed nervously.
“Y-yes, of course. I know it’s crucial.”
Vadio lightly patted his shoulder again and asked quietly,
“What record did Aedun delete?”
The quartermaster glanced around and whispered,
“A noble named Zenri Selken passed away, and I was told to delete the records of the slaves under his command.”
“The name?”
“I don’t know. They burned the document, so I don’t recall the name well. Oh, but I do remember one thing.”
“What is it?”
“Do you recall the night when the trumpet sounded from the heavens?”
“How could I forget?”
“That night, the nobleman Zenri Selken came to me and requested a supply item.”
“A supply item?”
“Yes, and he still hasn’t returned it.”
“What was it?”
The quartermaster made a circle with his hands, about the size of his head.
“A leather pouch about this big.”
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Jjescus]
[Proofreader - Gun]
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