Shadow Oath

Chapter 34: Elhum

The carriage creaked as it climbed the hill of Elhum Village.

Charlon looked for someone who should have been near the carriage but was nowhere to be seen.

Demion called him a shadow, while Jedric referred to him as Stuga.

He was there when you thought he wasn’t, and gone when you thought he was.

Charlon stuck her head entirely out of the carriage.

Looking back, she spotted him.

Their eyes met, but he gave no sign of acknowledgment.

His gaze neither avoided hers nor lingered, holding an empty, indifferent look.

‘A strange person, but not unpleasant.’

He was always present when she was with the prince, which naturally led to him being near her as well.

She hadn’t even realized this until, at some point, it dawned on her that Stuga didn’t offer her any consideration.

She was used to the constant, forced attentiveness of knights and attendants around her.

She couldn’t even get out of a carriage without someone extending a hand.

If she tried to sit on the ground, a handkerchief or cushion would promptly be placed under her.

But Stuga never acted that way.

Even when she sat before Jedric, he did nothing.

He didn’t offer his coat to drape over her or fetch a cushion.

It was the nearby guards who asked if they should bring one.

He did nothing at all.

And yet, when he was around, oddly uncomfortable situations seemed to resolve themselves.

Even during arguments with her brother, she could naturally turn to Jedric.

When she met Jedric in front of the barracks, the situation seemed to flow more smoothly with him nearby.

He wasn’t directly doing anything, but his presence somehow made things work out that way.

It was fascinating.

‘A shadow, indeed...’

Her father also had a shadow-like bodyguard who stayed close to him.

The man was supposed to protect and advise her father but always lingered in a disquieting manner.

Even during private conversations between father and daughter, he would wait nearby and suddenly approach to whisper something.

She never knew what was being said, but the sight was sinister and oppressive.

When Demion first introduced Stuga as his shadow, she had recalled that image and felt uneasy.

She wished he wouldn’t be around.

But he truly acted as if he wasn’t there.

If she didn’t consciously think about him, she wouldn’t even notice his presence.

He was the literal embodiment of a shadow.

And when she sought him out, he was already there, just like a shadow.

If her father’s “advisors” clung like sticky mud, Demion’s shadow was as clear and pure as air.

‘General Terrdin’s shadow, temporarily accompanying the prince, wasn’t it?

I hope he stays with the prince longer.

Then he’ll also be my shadow.’

Elhum Village was much smaller than she had imagined.

The village sat on a gentle slope, with low-roofed wooden houses at the base of the hill and larger, high-roofed buildings at the top.

The prince’s procession, including the carriage, headed straight for the largest building.

From the layout of the village, Charlon deduced the social structure without much difficulty.

The poor lived on the outskirts, while the wealthy and powerful resided atop the hill.

‘It’s the same everywhere.’

In the distance, she heard Jedric explaining the village to Demion in his pleasant voice.

Originally, the outskirts of the village were blocked by a massive wooden fence, but Triton’s soldiers had dismantled it.

The flat area in the middle of the slope served as a public square for village meetings, Jedric explained.

The part about village meetings particularly piqued her interest.

“Village meetings, you say?

Do the villagers gather to discuss matters?”

Demion asked.

“It’s mostly for trials.

When someone commits theft or murder, the entire village gathers here to decide their guilt.”

“And the chieftain doesn’t deliver the verdict?”

“The chieftain acts as the facilitator.

The accusing and defending parties present evidence and witnesses, appealing to the villagers.

The villagers then vote, and the side with the majority wins.”

It was an intriguing concept.

The villagers themselves decided the fate of criminals?

“For disputes over property, the same process applies.

However, for personal conflicts between two individuals, it’s often resolved through a duel.

In cases of murder, the decision must be unanimous rather than by majority.”

Jedric skipped the finer details and led the group past the square, heading uphill.

As the carriage ascended the incline, Charlon found herself leaning back due to the steep angle.

The horses pulling the carriage struggled with the climb, prompting some soldiers to push it from behind.

Charlon grew increasingly dissatisfied with the situation.

‘I can get down and walk.

I can run through the mountains and dive into rivers to swim.

A woman who only sits comfortably in a carriage cannot become the queen of the North.’

The houses scattered along the road all looked like they were on the verge of collapsing.

Some were just pits dug into the ground with a minimal roof placed on top.

The houses that resembled proper homes were on the higher part of the hill, but even they were made entirely of wood, lacking any sense of grandeur.

‘So, this is how poor this place is.’

“Such a disappointment, isn’t it, my lady?”

Oedel clicked her tongue and continued, apparently misinterpreting Charlon’s frown.

“To think you’ll have to live in a place like this!

Sure, the prince might build a bigger house or a castle, but until it’s completed, you’ll have to live in one of these houses, won’t you?”

Charlon hadn’t even considered such things.

Her feelings about the village leaned more toward sympathy than disappointment.

The most common words she had heard on the way here were, ‘Barbarians are violent and destructive.’

Barbarians were likened to wolves, bears, and tigers.

A warrior blessed by the war god wouldn’t die even with arrows sticking out of them like a porcupine.

Some could move even after being decapitated, their bodies acting without a head.

The raiders of Geran often used boats to reach Born in the southern Triton.

The soldiers of Born couldn’t even properly face the Geran warriors and fled.

That’s why, when the king of Triton declared his intention to conquer the northern barbarians, the people of Born were the most pleased.

Charlon also referred to them as barbarians when she first came here.

But after learning from the prince, she began using the word Geran more often.

Especially after meeting Jedric, she even wondered if there wasn’t a better word to use.

Oedel clicked her tongue again as she spoke.

“When I heard the general of Triton waged war against the barbarians, those so-called mad warriors, and won, I thought maybe he was someone to admire.

But it turns out it wasn’t such a great feat after all.

Now I see they’re just poor, weak, and filthy people.

That general must not be very proud of his victory, right, my lady?”

Charlon deliberately replied in an emotionless tone.

“Don’t say that, Oedel.

That man defeated our elite army ten years ago.

If we belittle someone like him, it only makes us look smaller.”

“Hmph, he only tricked our army with cunning tactics to win.

You call that honorable?

Then he should’ve clashed head-on against our cavalry.

Even young Lord Ruseph fought at the front lines at his tender age.

And what did that old general from Triton do?

He stood at the rear and ordered his men to shoot arrows!

That so-called war god, starved for blood, turned out to be nothing more than a coward who fought dishonorably.”

‘Yes, they shot arrows.

Our troops were killed countless times by those arrows.

The knights of Born, who knew only how to charge forward, trusting in their heavy armor, could do nothing against arrows that pierced through their armor.’

Oedel kept grumbling.

“Look, my lady.

Now that old general will squeeze this impoverished village dry.

He’ll starve these ragged people just to feed their fat king.”

“War is like that, Oedel.

For a hundred soldiers waging war here to eat, a hundred children they left behind must starve.

The reason I can live a rich life inside the castle of Ramborn is thanks to the gains of such wars and the sacrifices of countless farmers who die of hunger every winter.

If you’re going to pity anyone, pity the people of our Duchy of Born first.

And I’ve come here to become the queen of this place.

I’ll find a way to feed these people, not through pillaging, but by another means.”

Charlon continued in a warning tone.

“And stop saying such things, Oedel.

Be careful that your words of discontent don’t reach General Terrdin or Prince Demion.”

“As you wish, my lady.

This old voice of mine has been ignored often enough.

I’ll gladly keep silent.”

Oedel stubbornly pressed her wrinkled lips shut.

The carriage soon stopped in front of the massive building at the top of the hill.

‘So this is the Great Hall?’

According to Demion’s prior explanation, this was where the chieftain lived, where the most important treasures were kept, major matters were decided in meetings, and food was shared during festivals.

In other words, it was the palace of the Geran people.

As a single structure, it was quite large, but compared to the many buildings within the walls of Ramborn Castle, it was modest.

The domed ceiling, three times the height of a person, gave it an imposing appearance.

Still, it couldn’t compare to the six sharp spires towering over the Bormont family’s castle.

When a knight of Born opened the carriage door, Prince Demion approached, extended his hand, and waited.

Charlon noticed ten Geran people waiting in front of the Great Hall.

She wondered whether it was appropriate to take the prince’s hand and descend in front of them.

‘I will become the queen of the North.

I want to show them that the wife of a warrior has arrived.

I don’t want to appear as a weak woman who needs to hold hands just to descend from this height.’

However, she couldn’t refuse the prince’s hand.

Charlon gracefully stepped down from the carriage, relying on his hand.

Her flowing dress felt cumbersome.

The ground, though paved neatly with bricks, couldn’t completely prevent the hem of her skirt from getting soiled by dirt.

Charlon stood beside the Geran men waiting in front of the hall.

They had seemed large from inside the carriage, but standing before them, they looked even more imposing.

Even without weapons or armor, they were sufficiently intimidating.

Especially the red-haired young man who resembled Jedric but was taller and carried a fiercer expression—it was suffocating to stand next to him.

Jedric wasn’t short, but beside this man, he looked relatively small, almost like a child.

The horned helmet he wore was less ornate and smaller than Jedric’s, but it showed no sign of submission to the conqueror.

Jedric bowed his head in greeting to the man.

‘The High Chieftain, Elhorn, is supposed to be the representative empowered by all the tribal leaders, right?

But for Elhorn to bow his head to a chieftain…?’

To Charlon, it was as strange as an emperor bowing to a king.

“May I introduce, Prince Demion—my elder brother, the Ehodin of Elhum, and heir to Adian Mantum, Ikahm.”

Jedric spoke in a noticeably formal tone, vastly different from his usual demeanor.

Ikahm nodded briefly to Prince Demion and said something in Geran.

It didn’t sound particularly polite, but Jedric translated as if Ikahm had spoken with respect.

“Welcome, Conqueror.”

Jedric then pointed to Terrdin and introduced him in Geran.

It was likely a formal introduction since they had already met.

“Hmph.”

Charlon let out a faint nasal sound without realizing it.

It happened instinctively when she picked up on something.

Fortunately, Oedel, who would’ve criticized her for such a habit, hadn’t gotten out of the carriage.

She wouldn’t dare come near this place, filled with these “filthy and intimidating” Geran men.

‘That Ikahm person, he’s not even making eye contact with General Terrdin.’

Next came introductions of the chieftains from two other villages, followed by the elders.

Jedric calmly recited their names and titles, maintaining a steady, expressionless face.

While his expression gave little away, Charlon could sense his unease.

‘To lead your conqueror to your village…’

Using only the fragmented knowledge Demion had casually shared, Charlon tried to infer the relationship between the two sons of Mantum.

‘The elder brother serves as the village chieftain, Ehodin, while the younger brother is the High Chieftain, Elhorn.

So, Jedric must’ve taken on this role to endure the humiliation of surrender on behalf of his brother.

It’s not a higher position at all.’

Charlon suddenly recalled what Jedric had said when they first met.

“When you meet my elder brother, you’ll realize you cannot rule this land.

We are a tribe that can be forced to surrender, but we will never be ruled.”

She had taken those words as a challenge directed at her, not at Demion.

‘Jedric, you’ve already swallowed your pride out of necessity.

You broke your own pride to protect your brother’s.

So, your tribe will eventually swallow their pride and accept domination out of necessity too.’

When the introductions ended, Ikahm stepped aside without even nodding to Prince Demion.

The older Gerans followed him, stepping aside to stand on either side of the hall’s entrance.

“They’re signaling for us to enter first,” Jedric explained.

At his words, Demion moved toward the hall’s doors.

Charlon walked beside him.

She could feel his tension.

Charlon quietly spoke to the prince.

“Don’t worry. I’m with you.”

When Demion gently clasped Charlon’s hand, she naturally tightened her grip around his.

‘I always expected to be engaged someday.

I had braced myself for being married off like a bargaining chip to some elderly noble from a powerful family.

But to marry someone like him—this is a blessing.’

Demion was thoughtful, caring, handsome, and soon to be the ruler of the North.

Her heart should have been overflowing with joy.

Yet strangely, it wasn’t.

‘I should be happy.’

Chanting it like a magical spell, Charlon followed Prince Demion into the Great Hall.

‘I will become the queen of the North.’