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A Cadet Becomes a Prophet?! Chapter 89

Chapter 89

It‌​ was a dangerous⁠ situation.

“Damn‍​​ it…”

The‌‍ Corrupted’s body was⁠ in shreds, more⁠ like a torn⁠ rag, and his‌⁠‍ life hung by‍ a thread.

The​‌ biggest problem was​ the radiant energy‌ from Armian, which‌‍‍ clung to his‍​‍ wounds and devoured‌‍⁠ his magic.

“Aint‌ Armian, I told‌⁠​ you not to‍⁠‌ kill him!”

“S-sorry…⁠‍ I didn’t notice…”⁠

The​⁠⁠ wounds continued to​ open wider.

No⁠ matter how resilient⁠ a Corrupted was,​‌‍ against a force‍ that directly opposed‍⁠ their nature, he‌⁠ would die if⁠ left like that.‍⁠

But​ there was no‍‌​ clear cure.

Corrupted⁠​‍ were humans who⁠ had sold their⁠ souls to demons​⁠‍ in exchange for​ power. They were‌​​ little more than‌ degraded demons, and⁠​⁠ no one had​ ever heard of‌‌⁠ a way to​‍​ heal a demon.‍​⁠

‘There‌​ was no mention‌‌ of this in‍‌‌ the prophecy book‌‍ either.’

The‍‌ only positive point​⁠ was that they​⁠ weren’t completely helpless.‌‌‍

“Aint,​ withdraw your power.”‍

“Yes.”‌

The‌​ light that was​‌‌ devouring the Corrupted​‌‍ faded and returned‍‌‌ to its owner.‌‍​ Fernan stood up‌​ abruptly.

“Keep⁠⁠ watch on this‍ man. Don’t kill⁠⁠‌ him under any⁠ circumstance.”

And‍‍ he headed toward⁠‍ the battlefield that‍ was still roaring.​‍ The stench of​⁠‍ monsters and the‌​ heat of combat⁠ filled the air.⁠⁠⁠

Rumble!‍​⁠

Fernan​ raised his staff​‌‌ and the desert‍‌‌ sand rose, enveloping‌​‌ dozens of monster‍ corpses. The sand​ spheres closed around​​ them and then‍​ flew toward the‌⁠ Corrupted.

“What’s‌‌​ he going to‌‍ do?”

“Feed⁠ him.”

If‌‌‌ radiant magic hurt‌⁠‍ him, and human‌‍⁠ potions didn’t work,‌ then what about‍ monster blood, which‌ was filled with‌​‌ magic?
Considering the regenerative⁠ capacity of the‌‌ Corrupted, it might‍ work.

— What? Give monster⁠​‌ blood to a Corrupted?

— It’s not a bad idea. Monster‍​ blood contains magic.‍‌⁠ If you replenish​⁠ his spent magic,‌⁠ his regeneration will​ resume.

‘And‌⁠ since we already​⁠​ withdrew my power,‌ it should be⁠⁠‍ possible, right?’

It⁠​​ was a simple‌‌ method, but no⁠⁠⁠ one had thought‌⁠​ of it because‍⁠‍ no one had‍‍ ever considered reviving⁠‍‌ a half-dead Corrupted.​​​

Crack,⁠‌​ crunch.

The‍‍ sand began to​ compress the trapped​ bodies, crushing flesh‍⁠‌ and bone, squeezing⁠ out the dark‌​​ blood.

That​ liquid seeped into⁠​ the Corrupted’s wounds​‌​ and mouth. More‌​ than “feeding” him,‍ they were soaking‍‌ him in it.‍​​

But​‍ it worked.

“Ugh…”‌⁠​

A faint groan escaped‍‍⁠ the unconscious man’s‍‌ lips. His wounds‍‍ began to close,‍ slowly but steadily.⁠

‘Thank⁠‌​ goodness.’

Fernan⁠​‌ scanned the surroundings.​⁠

Perhaps​‍ because their master‌ was unconscious, the‌‍ remaining monsters had⁠‍ started to scatter.‍‌

The⁠‍ Iron Knights protected‌‍⁠ the training students,​‍ while the Wild​⁠ Blood Knights, Altrierc’s⁠​​ elite soldiers, and⁠ the newly arrived​‌⁠ desert warriors were‌ mopping up the‌ fleeing ones.

‘…It’s⁠ over.’

It⁠⁠ had gone easier‌ than expected, but⁠⁠ the plan had​​⁠ been fulfilled put⁠​‌ Aint face-to-face with⁠​‌ a Corrupted.

‘Although‌ Ludger’s spell did⁠‍ restrict the Corrupted,‌ it seems Aint’s‍ power is even​​⁠ stronger than the​‌​ prophecy said.’

Was‌ it thanks to⁠‌ the heart of​⁠‍ the Saintbird?

Even‍⁠ if he had‌‍ handed it over⁠‍ disdainfully, the Saintbird​⁠ was, alongside the‌ phoenix, one of‌ the most powerful‌​ mythical beasts. Its‍ mere existence could⁠ rival a Royal⁠ Knight or an‍ Archmage.

And‌‌ Aint had devoured‍ its heart, which​‍ was like running‌‌‌ a horse race⁠‍⁠ on a purebred​‌⁠ from the start.​‌

“Aint‍‍ Armian, are you‍‌​ sensitive to magic?”⁠​

“Yes.”⁠‌

“Then⁠​ don’t take your‌​ eyes off this‌⁠‍ man until we​​‍ return to Altrierc.​​ If he shows​ signs of waking​‍⁠ up, knock him⁠​⁠ out again. And⁠ if needed, cut‌‌‌ off his arms⁠⁠⁠ or legs with‍⁠‍ your aura.”

“Arms‌ or legs?”

“He’s⁠ a traitor to‌​ humanity, a wretch⁠​ sold to demons.​​ Have no mercy.”​​⁠

“…Understood.”​​

Aint⁠‌ looked to Grad​‌⁠ for approval, and​ the professor gave​ a slight nod.​​ That was enough⁠​‌ for him to​ accept.

Fernan‍‍‍ allowed the Corrupted‍⁠‍ to recover just⁠‍⁠ enough not to‍​ die and then‌ threw the remains​​⁠ back into the‍ desert. Shortly afterward,​⁠ the battle ended⁠‍ completely.

***⁠⁠

You‍⁠ thought they’d return‍‌‍ immediately to Altrierc,‍‍‍ but the plan‌ changed because of‌‌ the desert clans.​‌⁠

“Oh!‍‌‌ It’s the holy‍ light!”

“The‍ return of the​‌⁠ legend!”

“Glory‍ to the chosen‌ one!”

With​‌⁠ reddish skin and‍ muscles like an‍ orc, the desert‍​ nomads were almost‍ human, though different.‌

Their‌ physical strength was​​ so overwhelming it⁠⁠‍ was said their‍​ bodies were blessed.‌

The‌⁠​ drawback was that‍‍ they had no‌‍‍ sensitivity to mana⁠ whatsoever, unable to⁠ use it.

And​‌‌ yet now, they⁠‍​ knelt before Aint,⁠​​ bowing their heads.‍ Not one or‍‌ two, but thousands‌​ of them.

“Eh,‍‍ wh-what’s going on…?”‍⁠

Aint‍‌ froze at the‍‌‌ sudden scene.

— Don’t be surprised.​⁠‌ The desert clans‍ once…

“The‌‍‌ Taklakan clans fought⁠⁠ alongside the First​ Emperor a thousand​⁠ years ago.”

Grad‍⁠ spoke with his‌ arms crossed.

The​​ Emperor, who had‌ unified six kingdoms​​​ and one religion​‌ under a single‌ banner, was still​ unsatisfied.

Then‍‍ he noticed the‌⁠ desert clans.

They‌ couldn’t use mana⁠​‌ or aura, but‍ they were monsters​ in raw strength.‌⁠ And since they‍ worshipped the law​⁠ of the strong,⁠ the Emperor subdued‌​ them with power.​

“You‍​​ mean that even⁠‍‌ a thousand years⁠⁠ later, they still‍​ revere the Armians?”​‌‍

“Strange.​​‌ The Empire practically‍⁠ abandoned them…”

The⁠​ First Emperor had‍‍ been their Khan,​‍‌ their guide. The​‍ clans had rendered‌‍⁠ great service and​‌​ the Emperor had⁠ promised them much.⁠​

But‌ the nobles hadn’t⁠ taken kindly to​ this new force,​‌ especially since they⁠‍‍ were ignorant desert‌​ barbarians who only‌​ knew violence.

There​‌​ wasn’t open persecution,‍ but over the​ centuries, support slowly​​‌ diminished. And that‍‍ was enough.

The‌ desert couldn’t remain⁠‍‌ prosperous without outside‍⁠‌ help. Divided, the⁠‌‌ clans scattered once‌⁠ again.

That‍‍‍ was the current‍‍‍ situation.

“Thanks​‍ to you, we⁠‌‍ survived. Don’t treat‍ us like ungrateful‌ beasts.”

“We‌‌ must return to​​ report to his‍ lordship.”

“Then⁠⁠⁠ at least allow⁠‍‌ some of you​‌ to stay one​⁠‌ more day.”

“…Alright.”​

“To‍‍​ ensure your safety,‍‌​ the Wild Blood⁠ Knights will remain​⁠ here as well.”‌​‌

And‌​​ so, the Iron‍ Knights and four⁠ hundred soldiers departed,⁠‌ leaving the Wild‌⁠‍ Blood Knights, one​‍ hundred elites, and‌ the nine Academy​‍‍ students with two‍‍ professors.

The‌ clan sacrificed livestock‌ and roasted meat​​⁠ for a feast.‍ It had been​‌ a long time⁠ since they celebrated⁠ like this; joy​⁠ shone on their⁠⁠ faces.

“Aint,​ how was the‌ Corrupted?”

“Thanks​​ to senior Ludger,​‍ easier than expected.”​⁠

“That⁠⁠⁠ would probably piss‌‌⁠ him off if‌ he heard it.”​

Fernan​​‍ chuckled, raising a cup of strong‌⁠‍ desert liquor as​⁠⁠ he observed the​​​ nomads.

‘They’re​‌​ poor… well, of‌ course, there’s not‌ much to do⁠ in the desert.⁠ And with less⁠‌ support from the‌​ Empire and monsters‍ on the loose,‍‍ even less.’

There‍ was nothing to‌‍ invest in.

The‌ nomads had nothing‌​⁠ but their bodies.​

‘What⁠‌⁠ if I organize‌​⁠ them into a mercenary company and​‍‌ they grow into​ a major force?⁠⁠‌ If I act‍‍ as a broker‌‌‌ and take commissions,⁠ it could be⁠⁠ profitable…’

Already‍ thinking of ways⁠ to profit, he​​ saw someone approach.⁠‌

“The‌‌ hero who saved⁠⁠​ our clan is‍⁠‍ here.”

It‍ was the clan​ chief, who sat​⁠ next to him​ with a jovial​ smile.

“You⁠⁠​ exaggerate. I didn’t‌ do it alone.”‍‌

“I‍​⁠ don’t deny the⁠⁠ efforts of the‍ others, but you‌ played the decisive‌ role.”

The​ chief encouraged him​⁠ to drink. After‍⁠‌ several rounds, he⁠‍ bid farewell.

“Senior,‍ I’m going to‍‌ the restroom for‍⁠‌ a moment…”

“Go.”‌

As‌​ soon as Aint‌‍​ left, Fernan’s cloudy​​⁠ gaze regained its⁠ sharpness.

‘So‍‍ they’re up to​​ something interesting.’

He‍‌ hadn’t missed the‌‌ secret signal exchanged‍ between the chief​​ and Aint.

***‌‍

“Why⁠​​ did you want‍​‌ to speak with‌ me alone?”

Though⁠​​ he had said‌‌ he was going‌‍ to the restroom,‌⁠‍ Aint entered the‍​‌ clan chief’s yurt.⁠

“Because‍ I have something​ important to tell​⁠ you. Ah, a drink?”

“Yes.”⁠

The​ chief handed him⁠ a cup. As‌ soon as Aint‍ took it, he‌​ filled the empty⁠​ cup with liquor.⁠‌

“So,‍‌‍ what do you‍ prefer? Get straight⁠ to the point?‍⁠‌ Or chat a little first?”

“I’d​​‌ rather hear the⁠⁠ matter.”

“How​ impatient.”

“In‌​ a situation like⁠​ this, anyone would‌​⁠ be.”

“That’s⁠ true too.”

The​ chief paused in‌ thought, then finally​ spoke.

“You‍​​ know something? Even​‌ though we’re split​‍​ into many branches​‌​ now, among all‍ the desert clans‌​​ there’s a tradition‍‍ that has been‌‍ passed down for⁠ generations.”

“A‌​ tradition?”

Clack.​ The chief set‍ the bottle on‍⁠ the table. What​‌‍ he said next‌​⁠ didn’t sound like​ a direct answer,‌⁠‍ but rather a story.

“Long‍‍‌ ago, the desert‍ clans were divided.‍​ They came from‌⁠ a single origin,⁠‌‍ but after centuries‌‍ of disputes, they⁠ became worse than⁠‍⁠ enemies. Then someone‌​ brought them back‌ together.”

To​​​ the Empire, he‌⁠ was the First‌ Emperor. To the​ clans, he was‌⁠ the First Khan.​‌

“That‌ was our most⁠‌ glorious time. United⁠‌ under the Khan,⁠​ the clans became​ a formidable force.‍​‌ No one dared‌ to look down‍ on us; on‌ the contrary, they​‍ feared us.”

During‍ the wars against​‌‌ demons and monsters,‍​‌ there was a warrior who represented​ the clans under​ the Khan. That​ was Oswell Valance,‍ the Second Khan.​‍‌

He‍‌ was the strongest‍‍ and wisest of⁠⁠⁠ all desert warriors.⁠‌

— Oswell Valance… what⁠‍ a nostalgic name.⁠ A bit plain,‍​ but few were‌​⁠ stronger.

— Even without aura,‍‌‍ his body was⁠ a living weapon.⁠‌

— The Emperor himself​ named him a Royal Knight.

The‌ chief took a sip before continuing.‌

“The⁠‍‌ tradition I mentioned⁠ is the words‌‌ he left behind.”‌⁠‌

— I can already⁠⁠‍ guess what this⁠‍ is about.

“What⁠ did he say?”​‍

“‘The‍‍ wrath of Hell‍​⁠ has not yet‍‌ ended, and the⁠⁠‍ world will fall‌‌‌ into affliction once​ more. But the‌​​ holy light will‌​‍ be reborn, and⁠ from the red​‌‍ sands, new sprouts⁠‍⁠ shall rise to‍‌ lead us toward‍‍‌ the promised glory.’”‍⁠​

“…Excuse‌‌ me?”

— What the Emperor‍⁠‌ meant was much‍‍ simpler—that demons would​ return one day‌​ and they needed‍⁠‌ to be ready.‍‌ The desert folks​ just dramatized it.​​‌

— These nomads always⁠‌​ had a flair‌⁠​ for the dramatic.‍​‍

Gardner‍⁠ clicked his tongue.​‍‍

“I‍‌⁠ admit I always​​ thought it was‍ just an empty​⁠ tale. But today,‍ I realized it’s⁠‌ not.”

“Ah…”​

“The⁠ demons have started‍⁠ to move again,⁠​‌ and the holy‌ light has descended‌‍‌ upon you. How‍‌​ could it be‍ false?”

“Are​ you saying…?”

“Yes.‌ We will recognize‌ you as our​​ Khan. Lead us‌⁠ toward glory.”

The⁠‌⁠ chief bowed his‍‌ head abruptly. Aint‍ was left speechless.⁠​‌

“You’ll​ recognize me as‌ Khan… just because​⁠ of that tradition?”‍

“Does‍ it seem strange​ to you?”

“Doesn’t​​‌ it seem strange​‍ to you?”

The​⁠ chief burst out⁠⁠​ laughing.

“Ahahaha!⁠‌ I’m just joking.​​ I won’t go⁠ that far so‍‍ suddenly.”

He​​‌ downed the large​⁠​ cup in his‌⁠⁠ hand in one‍‍‍ gulp.

“We​‌⁠ desert folks present​‌​ our stories like⁠​⁠ grand legends. There’s⁠ always exaggeration, and‌‌‍ one must know‍‌ how to separate​ truth from myth.”​⁠‍

“…”​‍

“I‍⁠⁠ know you are​ the holy light,⁠⁠‌ Aint. But I don’t believe that,​ just because tradition​‌⁠ says so, you’ll​ lead us to⁠⁠‍ glory.”

“Then,‍⁠​ about recognizing me‍⁠⁠ as Khan…?”

“No,⁠​‍ that part is⁠‌‍ serious.”

The‌ chief shook his‍⁠ head.

“But‍​ not because of⁠ tradition. Because it‌​ benefits us.”

His‌‍ gaze turned firm.​⁠⁠

“I’ll‌⁠⁠ be blunt, since‌ I don’t know‍⁠​ how to lie.‌⁠‌ The Empire used⁠‌ us against the​‌‍ demons, but never‍‍⁠ gave us our‍‍‍ rights. Instead, it‍​ slowly took them‌​⁠ away.”

When⁠ the Empire’s nobles‍⁠‍ began to look​ down on them⁠​ as barbarians, aid⁠ gradually diminished until​​ it almost disappeared.‌ Without support, the‍ desert clans lost‌ their glory and‍ fell back into‍ division.

— When you think‍ about it, didn’t⁠‌ they live a thousand years on‌ imperial charity?

Aint⁠​‌ ignored Gardner.

“The⁠‌ Empire and the⁠ continent advanced, while​ we moved backwards.”‌‌

And‌⁠⁠ so, the desert​⁠‌ had no future.‍⁠

“That’s‌‍ why, for us,⁠ this moment is​‍​ a blessing.”

“What​‌ do you mean?”​⁠‍

“The‍⁠‍ Second Khan united‍‍ the clans alongside​‌ the First. We​⁠​ lost many lives​‌ fighting demons, but‌​ we achieved our⁠‌ greatest glory. Now‌ war returns.”

For⁠​​ them, it was​‌‍ the last opportunity.⁠‌

“We‍ want to fight‌‌ under your banner,‌⁠⁠ Aint Armian. We‍ want to be⁠⁠‍ your warriors and‌ tear apart demons.‍​‍ In return, promise‍‌ us rights, wealth,‍ and land to‍ live on.”

“Then​‌ we will recognize‌ you as Khan.”⁠​‍

Not‌⁠‍ because of tradition.⁠​

Not​‌⁠ out of nostalgia.⁠

“We’ll⁠‌ do it because⁠ it benefits us.”‍

It⁠ was purely a practical matter.

“So,‌​​ use us too.”​

Just⁠​ to survive.

***⁠​

Aint​​ stayed silent for​‌ a long time.​⁠ He hesitated, reflected,‌​‍ then finally spoke.‍

“To‍ be honest, I might fail. I’m⁠‍‍ not certain I can defeat the‍‌⁠ demons or become‍ emperor.”

“I‌⁠ know.”

“Then‌‍‌ why me? Just‌​​ because I’m a descendant of the⁠‍‌ First Emperor?”

“Because‌ you’re the only⁠ one who truly​⁠ needs us.”

And⁠ it was true.‍ The Armians lacked‍​ power. Due to​ mistakes by the​‍ First Emperor, almost‍‌‌ all their lands‌‌ went to the‍​⁠ crown, and most⁠​‍ of the rest‍‍ was absorbed by‌‌ Schwaben.

His‌​‍ family had been‌​‍ reduced to an‌​ empty shell.

If‌‌‍ Aint wanted the​‍ throne, he needed​‍‌ a powerful force.‍ And the desert‍‍​ clans were perfect⁠ to fill that​ void.

“…Alright.”‍‍

“An‌ excellent choice!”

The‌ chief burst into‍⁠​ laughter and offered⁠ him a full‌ cup.

“When​ we seal a pact of loyalty,⁠​ we drink together.​​ One shot.”

“This…”‍

But⁠‍⁠ the cup was​‍‍ already in his​⁠ hand.

Clink.​⁠​ The cups clinked.​‌ Seeing the chief⁠‌ drink in one‌ gulp, Aint had⁠​ no choice but‍‌ to imitate him.‌​

“Ahhh!‍ In good times,‍⁠⁠ the liquor tastes‍‌ even sweeter.”

“…Yeah,​​‌ sweet.”

Aint​‌ barely managed to‍ hold back from‍​‌ gagging.

“From​ now on, we​‍ will serve you​​⁠ as lord. I’ll‍⁠ convene the clan‌‍ council to formally⁠ recognize you as​⁠ Khan. It’ll take​⁠⁠ some time due‍‌​ to protocol.”

“I‌ understand. But if⁠​‌ possible, keep this‌ from spreading…”

“We’ll‍ do our best‍ to keep it⁠⁠‌ quiet.”

After‌ the talk, they‌‍⁠ returned to the⁠​‍ celebration.

Unbeknownst⁠ to them, someone‍​‌ else had overheard‍⁠‌ everything.

— Kkyuung?

A small golem, hidden‍ behind one of​ the tent’s poles,‍‌ had witnessed it‌‍ all.

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