The Return of the Iron-blood Sword Hound

Chapter 86: The Illiad (3)

Chapter 86: The Illiad (3)

Ahheman was panicking.

His plan to release the antidote as soon as he finished the ritual, cure everyone, and become the hero of Balak had been derailed from the start.

He had hoped to earn everyone's respect, but it hadn't worked out that way.

Most of Balak's warriors looked at him with disdain.

"...?"

But he was still puzzled.

He didn't know how the Red Death had been cured, but should he be receiving such hostile stares just because the shaman's ritual hadn't worked?

It didn't help, but the reactions were too cold for that.

But.

Ahheman's questions were answered by Aquila's next words.

"None of that is necessary. I want to see what's in that sack at your waist."

For a moment, his heart sank.

Ahheman barely held on to his mind, which was slipping away.

What could it be? Why would the chief want to see the sack at his waist, and at this time?

It's hard to say unless you know something.

"...Did you even notice?"

As the person responsible for spreading the red death in the waters, it was bound to make his stomach burn.

Turning to Ahheman, Aquila urged him on.

"What are you doing? Get that sack out of my sight."

The chief's authority is absolute. Once the order is given, there is no appeal.

But the old shaman was so flustered that he denied the chief's authority.

"I can't show you this, I can't show you this!"

He was so flustered that he didn't know what he was talking about.

But the consequences were heavy.

Before he could finish, the faces of all the warriors stiffened.

The younger warriors sighed and shook their heads, and the older ones furrowed their brows.

The warriors' respect and loyalty to their chieftain runs deep, regardless of generation, so there was no way Ahheman could look good.

"He's a creep, and I'm going to take this opportunity to make him pay!"

An impatient Aiyen stepped forward.

"Open that sack at once!"

Someone stepped forward before her.

Ahun. Ahman's grandson, he was the first to step forward and open his palm in front of Ahheman.

While Aiyen stood stunned by the unexpected sight, Ahun turned to Ahheman and spoke firmly.

"There can be no disobedience to the chieftain's word, and if you do not open that sack immediately...."

Ahun said, pulling an arrow from his waistband and nocking it.

Then Ahheman's thick eyebrows shot up.

"You rascal!"

"...."

But Ahun's eyes never wavered.

Something must have changed in his mind as he watched helplessly as his sister Ahul died of the Red Death.

Soon, many of the warriors were booing at Ahheman.

"Give us the sack now!"

"Show us what's inside!"

"You traitor, you're the culprit!"

As the accusations poured in, Ahheman's face contorted more and more horribly.

Then.

"Come on, look! Look what's inside!"

He snatched the sack from his waistband.

Then he flung it into the river that flowed beside the fire.

Many of the warriors paused for a moment.

An eerie silence.

Ahheman looked back at Aquila with a triumphant smile.

"Oops! This old man had tremor, so he dropped his sack into the river... ... ?"

He stammered out an excuse, then paused.

Something was about to go wrong.

As if on cue, the warriors chattered amongst themselves and glanced to one side.

There was Vikir, arms crossed and mouth closed.

Aquila looked back at him and said.

"Indeed. You were right. You really are throwing the sack into the river."

"...what?"

Ahhman opens his mouth in disbelief.

Just then.

"Chief, I found it!"

Suddenly, someone's head pops up from the surface of the river.

A Balak warrior, who had been lurking in the water earlier, quickly scoops up the leather sack that Ahheman had dumped.

The sack, though waterlogged, was still half full.

"Huh! No!"

Ahheman jerked, but the sack was already soaked by the time he reached Aquila's hand.

"...."

Aquila peered into the sack.

It was half-floating in the water, but full of white powder.

Aquila turned to Ahheman.

"This is the antidote for the Red Death."

"...."

"Why is this coming out of your hand?"

Ahheman mouthed the words, but didn't answer.

Then Aquila nodded again.

"Indeed. You were right again."

This time, she looked back at Bikir.

When Ahheman shook his head, Aquila threw the white powder on the ground.

"It's just flour, it doesn't do anything."

"What!"

"I told you that you would believe this to be an antidote, and by the looks of your surprise, I'm right."

Ahheman's expression turns to disbelief as he realizes that the powder he's holding is just flour.

"That can't be right, that must be the antidote...."

"You have been deceived by the Leviathan family."

Vikir said, stepping forward.

The Leviathans had used a foolish native spy to spread the plague without an antidote.

I saw through his power lust and ambition.

The mood of the warriors grew somber as everything Vikir had said before came true.

Ahheman made a desperate plea.

"I, I don't know, it's just flour, just like he said!"

"Then why did you hesitate earlier when I asked you to show me the sack, and why did you come to this water source where the Red Death first began?"

"Shut up, why should I tell you that!"

Vikir demanded, and Ahheman raised the lump in his throat.

But the situation wasn't going to get any easier for him.

The situation was not in his favor, however, because Vikir provided even more incriminating evidence.

From Vikir's arms came two letters.

There were two handwritings on them, one in terrible cursive and unrecognizable, the other in a fairly neat typeface.

Vikir opened his mouth to speak.

"These are the letters between the Leviathans and you."

The evidence was conclusive.

One of the two letters was unmistakably written in Ahheman's handwriting.

The eyes of all the warriors alternated between the letters and Ahheman.

Ahheman shouted in frustration.

"It's a lie! I never wrote that letter!"

But no one believed him.

Several old elders testified that the handwriting on the letter was indeed Ahheman's.

"Aaahhhhhhh! It's true! I'm innocent! He's framing me!"

Ahheman pointed at Vikir and jumped up and down.

But Vikir, the target of the scolding, just laughs quietly to himself.

Because the accusation is true.

"And here I am, thanks to my Chihuahua."

Vikir recalls an incident from two years ago.

'Mr. Chihuahua writes very well.'

'Nothing. Since I was born, I haven't seen anyone who handles handwriting better than me. Every time the archons ask me to sign it, so I'm good at imitating other people's handwriting... ... .'

'Can't I learn to do that?

'Of course I can teach you, it would be my honor!

'Thank you. Then I'll ask you whenever I have time.'

It was rewarding to learn the art of handwriting forged from him diligently when I was a deputy magistrate in Underdog City.

It was a skill that would come in handy when it came to propaganda.

'Originally, agitation is easy and explanation is difficult.'

Vikir stared at Ahheman, who was genuinely pacing in frustration.

Meanwhile, Aquila spoke up.

"We should see if anyone in the Leviathan family has this handwriting."

But that would be a tall order. It would be impossible to investigate one of the seven great houses of the Empire.

So, naturally, the mood within Balak turned toward denouncing Ahheman.

"Traitor!"

"You almost got my wife killed!"

"And my children!"

"Kill him, hang him!"

Public opinion was turning very badly.

Even Ahun, his grandson, was giving him the cold shoulder, and there wasn't a single person here who was on his side.

Ahheman gritted his teeth.

There was no proof anyway.

If the white powder in the sack turned out to be just flour, there was no point in executing him if he insisted on denying it until the end.

Holding out, however dirty and deadly, was the only way to stay alive.

"... Enough, everyone, you're overreacting."

That was the mood before Chief Aquila opened his mouth.

Every warrior turned to look at him. Ahheman did the same.

Aquila coughed a few times before speaking.

"If you look closely, there is no evidence. Everyone, I hope that this will no longer harm the shaman's honor. Isn't he a public servant who has been dedicated to the tribe for a long time."

Then there was a murmur from all around.

Aiyen spoke up in exultation.

"Mother, no, Chief, do you mean to tell me that you're going to sweep this under the rug...?"

"Enough! Respect the shaman's authority! He has far more years of experience and dedication to the tribe than you do! Be polite!"

At Aquila's stern words, Aiyen clamped his mouth shut.

Many of the warriors looked disgruntled, but the chieftain's words were absolute, and none of them spoke.

Ahheman, the one being defended, looked dumbfounded.

Why would the chieftain, who had so much disliked him, take his side?

But since this was the only way out, he could only bow flat to Aquila.

"I can only be grateful for your kindness and wisdom."

"It is nothing. It is only natural if you honor the traditions of your ancestors."

Ahheman nodded, as if impressed.

Just then, Aquila's eyes glowed deeply once more.

"How dare you allow young things who know nothing to tarnish your high honor?"

"Yes, thank you, Chief."

"You have nothing to thank me for. You have a reputation to uphold, not only in our tribe, but in the entire Dephts."

"Yes. What...."

"The honor and pride you carry on your shoulders must be very heavy, Cancer."

"Yeah...?"

"So today, you were framed for something without evidence, so the wounds in your heart must be very great. No wonder. Because that supreme pride has been damaged."

"...?"

Ahheman felt a little uneasy at the thick coating of gold.

As if on cue, Aquila turned to face him.

"I am about to give my friend of many years, my valued colleague, the spiritual teacher of all the young men gathered here, the opportunity to defend his innocence, his honor, his pride! Do any of you have any complaints!"

"None ah-!"

Everyone who has guessed Aquila's intentions cries out at once.

Vikir, who had heard it all before, stepped forward with a calm expression.

"...?"

Aheman stumbles backwards as Vikir steps in front of him.

He looked like he didn't know what was going on.

Finally, Aquila spoke firmly to him.

"If you are truly innocent, use this opportunity to defend the honor and pride you have earned. After all I've done for you, you won't take it away from me, will you?"

" ...And you say opportunity?"

Anxiety flickers in Ahheman's eyes as he asks cautiously.

Then, Aquila spoke.

"I command the Illiad."

The Illiad was Balak's unique way of resolving disagreements, using force to end the conflict in the winner's favor.

The color drained from Ahheman's face as he heard this.

Vikir, on the other hand, laughed quietly.

Evidence, proof, it didn't really matter.

It was all just paving the way for this game.