Chapter 303

The world was turned upside down, and the one people once knew was no more. The empire, symbolizing civilization and order, had fallen. Within days, all civilized people would hear of the empire’s collapse.

The barbarian army had taken the pinnacle of the civilized world, and no one knew how the world would change from this unprecedented point.

For decades to come, no one would dare underestimate the west who have demonstrated that their strength was enough to topple the empire. To challenge the west was akin to disturbing a hornet's nest.

The westerners of the Alliance shouted in jubilant victory with all that remained for them to do was to enjoy the rights of the victors after having won the war and captured the emperor.

However, there were those within the Alliance who couldn’t share in the victor’s joy.

Six-Fingered bit his nails and shook his legs, sitting alone in the tent.

‘No one came.’

Six-Fingered had summoned the shamans under his authority as the priest of the Alliance, but none responded to the summon.

‘Urich is alive.’

It was dreadful news. Six-Fingered had already antagonized Urich enough, and he had gone as far as to declare he was dead through false omens.

With the news that Urich was alive, Six-Fingered’s authority plummeted to the ground. The two were divided into the hero who had bravely opened the gates of Hamel and the shaman who had uttered false omens. Even those who supported Six-Fingered couldn’t do anything about this.

Six-Fingered didn’t have to face Urich until the next day as Urich and the warriors were still in Hamel.

Six-Fingered flinched at a sound coming from outside of the tent.

“No one will come, Priest Six-Fingered,” a shaman spoke from outside.

“I simply acted for the benefit of all shamans.”

“We know that. That’s why we kept silent even though we knew your words were false omens. But you have failed, so we will no longer support you. Bear the responsibility alone.”

With that, the shaman disappeared. Six-Fingered chuckled with shaking shoulders.

‘How hard have I worked for the benefit of the shamans.’

The shamans under his influence were of no help.

Though it was for his own benefit, thanks to Six-Fingered, the shamans had gained power within the Alliance. But as soon as Six-Fingered fell, they turned their backs without hesitation, showing that their relationship had always been based on mutual benefit.

Six-Fingered trembled as he fearfully remembered and dreaded the warnings of Urich and Belrua, knowing that he would surely face a terrible fate upon their return.

“Why is this happening to me...”

Six-Fingered gulped down the milk wine laced with herbal powder.

“I did my best to survive.”

But there was no one to listen to him.

‘These goddamned six fingers.’

From the moment he was born with a deformity, his fate was sealed. He could never become a warrior.

Under Samikan, Six-Fingered lived a life of deceiving the heavens. Rebellious shamans lost their lives one by one, and only Six-Fingered, who manipulated his omens according to Samikan’s will, rose to the position of priest of the Blue Mist.

‘You’ve kept quiet while I deceived you all my life, but now you decide to punish me?’

Six-Fingered resented the heavens. The heavens had given him an unjust fate.

‘When I defied your will under Samikan’s orders, you didn’t even bat an eye...’

It was so unfair. He was so aggrieved that he was on the verge of tears.

He had falsified countless omens because of Samikan. Though every omen he declared was for the benefit of Samikan, the former Great Chief and the priest of the Alliance walked the path of success rather than receiving punishment from the heavens.

“It was just one last time. I truly swore that if I could have gotten through this one time, there would never be a second. Heavens, oh, all-knowing heavens, why....”

Six-Fingered knelt. He lit incense and murmured.

‘Grant my wish just this once. By the will of heaven and earth, cast the shadow of death upon Urich.’

The smoke spread thickly in the tent as Six-Fingered mobilized all his experience and knowledge.

Outside Six-Fingered’s tent, warriors were keeping watch. At a glance, they looked like they were guarding him, but in reality, they were simply making sure he couldn’t escape.

“Man, I can smell his smoke all the way from here.”

The warriors coughed, looking at the tent.

“He could burn his tent down at this rate. We should say something.”

“Better not. What if he curses us before he dies? He’s a dead man, anyway. Let him do as he pleases just for tonight.”

The warriors talked as they watched Six-Fingered’s tent.

Six-Fingered had falsely declared Urich’s death. If Urich had been just a day late in opening the gates, the Alliance Army would have retreated.

Even the chiefs who disliked Urich couldn’t protect Six-Fingered. It was obvious what would happen to him.

“Death to Urich... Anyone, please. Whether it’s my ancestors or the spirits of the earth....”

Six-Fingered fervently wished. He didn’t care who was listening to his prayers, as long as they granted his wish.

Clink.

He reached into a box and felt something in his grasp.

‘The necklace that once saved Samikan’s life.’

The dented sun necklace dangled in front of Six-Fingered's eyes. It was the miraculous necklace that had taken an arrow that was meant for Samikan.

Six-Fingered had taken the necklace when Samikan died, believing that it held power.

“Lou, was it?” Six-Fingered muttered, clutching the sun necklace. The sun god Lou, was a god of the civilized people.

‘There’s nothing I wouldn’t believe in if it could save me from this predicament.’

Six-Fingered’s eyes gradually lost focus. He stared blankly into a dark corner.

—I will skin you alive.

Urich’s voice echoed.

—When we come back alive, you’ll be begging me to kill you! The late Samikan will be glad to welcome you with open arms!

Belrua’s threats lingered in his ears.

Shiver.

Six-Fingered trembled and wet himself. Yellow liquid trickled down his dried thighs.

‘I don’t care who is listening to my prayers, please save me.’

Six-Fingered repeatedly imagined Urich’s death. He wanted Urich to die, even if it was at the cost of the Alliance’s defeat.

‘Please... grant me peace. I’m asking you to put an end to this fear.’

Six-Fingered flailed his arms in the air.

Not only did the fear not disperse, it only grew stronger.

‘The heavens were not on my side.’

The heavens favored Urich. They saved him with thunder and lightning and helped him time and time again. Six-Fingered trembled with betrayal.

How could Urich have achieved such feats without the help of the heavens?

‘You have been on Urich’s side all this time, so couldn’t you have sided with me just once?’

But the heavens gave no answer. Six-Fingered clawed at the ground in agony, blood flowing as his long nails tore.

“Ah, aaaaaaah.”

He sobbed knowing that an unavoidable death was approaching. By tomorrow morning, bloodthirsty warriors would drag him out for judgment.

When he stared into the darkness, it felt as if Urich’s axe was flying toward him. Six-Fingered feared the morning. He was terrified of the passage of time.

‘...Put an end to my fear.’

He grabbed a handful of herbs and threw them into the censer. More smoke billowed out, nearly making the air impossible to breathe.

* * *

A day had passed since Hamel fell.

Urich had a lot of things to take care of, but treatment came first.

“We won’t kill you. Well, I guess you will if our Great Chief dies,” Georg said to the physician he was bringing to Urich. He had brought the physician of the imperial family who was caught while trying to escape.

‘How did the empire... The center of civilization, Hamel, fell to some barbarians...’ the physician thought while trembling.

The imperial palace was now guarded by those very barbarians.

The Porcana-Alliance army controlled all of Hamel. The plundering had stopped, but gold and treasures were still being moved out of the palace. It was an amount of money that could pay off the mercenaries and still overflow, almost enough to buy a kingdom, to exaggerate a bit.

Creak.

The door to Urich’s room, which had originally been the emperor’s bedroom, opened with a creak. His weapons hung on the walls, and his well-polished breastplate gleamed on the armor stand.

Rumble!

A loud, thunder-like noise startled the physician, who looked around in terror.

The source of the noise was Urich’s snoring. He had fallen into a deep sleep after staying awake for several nights, with his exhaustion evident in his breathing.

“Urich, wake up.”

Georg grabbed Urich’s shoulder and shook him awake.

Schring.

Urich instinctively grabbed the dagger under his pillow and put the blade right against Georg’s throat.

“Shit, it’s you? I was knocked out so hard that I didn’t even hear you come in.”

Urich shook his head. Normally, he would have woken at the sound of footsteps.

“Are you telling me he’s the patient? He looks vigorous.”

The physician clicked his tongue in awe at Urich’s reaction speed. He was no different from a wild beast that had lived its entire life in the wilderness.

‘So this is the man who stands at the pinnacle of the new world...’

People with special skills, like the physician, survived. When times changed, it was always the rulers who died. A change in leadership didn’t alter the social structure overnight. Farmers would still take their shovels and hoes to the fields, and shepherds would still lead their sheep up the hills.

Riiiip.

Urich flinched as the physician unraveled the blood-soaked bandage.

The wound in Urich’s back was practically a hole, smeared with crushed herbs. n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

“I got hit by a hammer with a spike,” Urich said, lying on his stomach.

“You should be grateful your bones aren’t broken. Your muscles are as hard as armor.”

The physician admired the musculature in Urich’s back. A normal person would have found their spine shattered with the same hit, but Urich’s well-trained body seemed to have prevented the worst outcome.

“Everyone, out.”

While the physician was treating Urich, Georg sent the surrounding warriors away.

The warriors hesitated but left when Urich nodded.

‘If they find out Urich is crippled, who knows what will happen? No matter how great Urich’s achievements are...’

Georg had lived with the westerners for a long time. While Urich would go down in history as a hero, he couldn't keep the position of Great Chief with a crippled body. It was possible that the Alliance might split over who would be the next Great Chief.

While the physician was treating him, Urich and Georg spoke in the tribal language.

“Urich, you need to make it clear who the next Great Chief is going to be before they find out that you’re crippled.”

“Whoever it is, there will be opposition.”

“That’s true. Even if you hand over the position to Belrua, there is going to be strong resistance.”

“I need to keep my status as Great Chief until things are settled. Who knows? If I’m lucky, I might even be able to walk again.”

Urich smiled while lying down.

The physician, after examining the wound, looked at Urich.

“Sit up, please.”

Urich sat on the bed as the physician instructed. The physician pressed down on Urich’s legs and the soles of his feet. Finally, he tickled the soles with a feather.

“Can you feel this?” he asked.

“No,” Urich answered.

The physician looked at Urich and Georg’s expressions.

“I’ve stitched up the wound and applied medicine for now. Please call me again if it gets infected and a fever develops.”

The physician wrapped a bandage around Urich’s waist.

Georg placed his hand on the physician’s shoulder.

“Will Urich be able to walk again?”

“That only Lou would know.”

Georg firmly ordered the physician to keep silent before sending him out.

Chiefs and warriors came to see Urich as the news that he was awake spread. There were many matters to report to Urich while he was resting, from the distribution of loot to various disputes awaiting his decision.

Belrua pushed other warriors aside and stepped forward.

“Urich, we need to decide on how we’re going to punish Six-Fingered.”

At her words, the warriors raised their hands and shouted.

“Death to Six-Fingered!”

“Let’s skin him alive!”

The warriors who revered Urich despised Six-Fingered. Given that he was the one who almost got them to retreat while their Great Chief was still alive, their anger wasn’t going to be appeased even if Six-Fingered were torn apart multiple times.

“Eh, do we really need to kill him?”

Urich shrugged. The other warriors widened their eyes at his words.

“Of course, we must! We can’t just kill him; removing his entrails wouldn’t even make up for half of what he’s done.”

Belrua nodded in agreement with the warriors.

“Well, if everyone thinks he should die, then let’s kill him. Bring Six-Fingered immediately and behead him.”

Urich replied casually with a smile. Six-Fingered was no longer an interest of his as he was well aware of his grown power. He had become the undisputed ruler of the Alliance, and compared to him, a mere priest was nothing.

‘Right now, no matter what I do, even if it’s unjustly killing someone, no one would oppose me.’

Absolute power was in Urich’s hands. Whatever he said, no matter how unreasonable, became reality.

‘Belrua is essentially the second-in-command, yet I could even kill her anytime I please.’

Urich looked down at his palm. At this moment, everything in the world seemed to be in his grasp.

‘Is this the absolute power Yanchinus had at his disposal...?’

But it felt empty. The wealth and glory that everyone desired meant nothing to Urich.

Six-Fingered’s execution was to be held in the garden of the imperial palace, but the warriors who went to fetch Six-Fingered did not return for a while.

The garden was soon filled with warriors who had gathered to witness the shaman’s death, hoping for a rare spectacle.

It was quite some time before the warriors who went to fetch Six-Fingered returned.

“Six-Fingered hanged himself.”

The warriors opened a large sack they had brought, revealing Six-Fingered’s corpse inside, dead with his tongue sticking out.

Urich, sitting idly, looked at Six-Fingered’s body and noticed something jingling and sparkling from his chest.

“Take that out.”

Urich ordered a warrior to take the item from Six-Fingered’s chest. It was a sun necklace.

‘That’s how scared you were, Six-Fingered?’

Urich looked at the dented sun necklace and couldn’t help but laugh.