Shadow's Oath

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Chapter 50: The Volcano

Jedrick was lost in thought the entire time Damion and Terdin discussed how to deal with the two bags Olga had left behind after being dragged out by Ikarum.

‘I've never seen Olga this terrified.’

Even when she opposed her father in war, she hadn’t been this scared.

Nor when she predicted, “If we raid this time, the South will exact revenge,” or when Maraka proposed executing Hag.

On those occasions, she faced them like a child humoring a prank: “Do it if you dare.”

Though unspoken, many believed that the “revenge of the South” Hag had mentioned back then referred to this war.

Olga had stood her ground even when Jedrick’s mother, Ehodin’s wife, erupted in anger and threatened to throw her into a literal furnace.

She closed her eyes and accepted it stoically.

‘But now, she's trembling before Damion? How is that possible?’

There were only two possibilities:

Olga wasn’t truly scared but merely pretending.

There was no other explanation for such exaggerated fear.

Or...

There was something about Damion that instilled a unique terror in Olga alone.

Damion’s demeanor during Olga’s interrogation had indeed been different.

There was no cheerful laughter as he offered drinks to an enemy chieftain, nor the kind smile of a fiancé leading his beloved.

He had shown only the visage of a conquering warlord.

But for that alone?

Ikarum was far scarier.

‘Damion isn't that kind of person. Anyone can see that. Olga must’ve noticed it too. Then why was she so scared?’

It all felt fake to Jedrick.

Even the rumbling of the earth that interrupted Terdin and Damion’s discussion seemed unreal.

“What is that sound?”

Damion asked.

“The heavens are roaring! And the ground too! Is this the trumpet sound we heard in the sky a while ago?”

Charlon asked in a trembling voice.

She, too, was not herself.

Once a confident and courageous woman, now she seemed like a frightened child.

It started after hearing Olga’s divination.

And worsened after she began having nightmares.

‘My God, I can't believe I dreamt of such a thing…’

Jedrick couldn’t bring himself to share the entirety of his dream with the three of them.

He had told the truth about the latter part: wandering the wilderness after parting ways with Damion and Charlon, walking endlessly through the desolate terrain, and eventually sinking into the crimson pond.

He’d been honest, though he omitted the tedious details.

But the beginning of the dream—he simply couldn’t say.

Jedrick and Charlon had shared a farewell kiss. n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

A long, enchanting kiss.

So long that even married couples would find it excessive.

Were they standing?

Lying down?

Had they been clothed?

Or not?

Damion had been there at first, watching in jealous rage.

But at some point, he disappeared.

Stuga wasn’t there either—or perhaps Jedrick hadn’t noticed him.

Even if Stuga had been present, Jedrick doubted he’d have registered his existence.

“No, this isn’t the same trumpet sound as before,”

Terdin said, still listening intently to the vibration, his gaze landing on Jedrick.

“It’s the volcano, isn’t it?”

As everyone looked at him, Jedrick explained,

“About a week’s journey northeast from here lies a barren land unfit for human life. They say no one survives more than ten days there, so it’s called the Shadow of Tanu.”

Despite himself, Jedrick glanced at Stuga when he mentioned Tanu.

‘He must be more attuned to this than anyone, and yet here I am, unintentionally drawing attention to it.’

He tried hard to emphasize that his glance at Stuga was insignificant, resuming his explanation.

“There’s a volcano there called Hakthus. It still erupts occasionally, and its surroundings have become a land of death. The eruptions themselves aren’t extraordinary. When I was younger, it erupted twice a day, causing the entire village to prepare for evacuation. But nothing ever came of it...”

Even as he spoke, unease crept over him.

‘Why now, of all times? There hasn’t been an eruption recently... it feels deliberate.’

Charlon voiced what Jedrick had been avoiding.

“Didn’t Hag Olga just mention this?”

Charlon, perhaps the boldest among them, might have spoken out of recklessness rather than courage.

“She said the ground would rumble, and the mountain of fire would exhale,”

Damion murmured.

Terdin immediately intervened.

“Don’t put stock in a seer’s words, my prince.”

“How can I not, General?”

“The northern volcano erupts frequently. It’s mere coincidence. Isn’t that so, Jedrick?”

Before Jedrick could respond, Damion cut in,

“Coincidence? The woman says the mountain will exhale fire, and minutes later it does? How do you explain the heavenly trumpets from before? Coincidence as well?”

“That’s...”

Terdin faltered.

He couldn’t deny it outright.

The heavens had roared, and Adian Mantum had died.

Mantum’s death had proven Hak Maraka’s divination false and Hag Olga’s prediction accurate.

Olga had foretold of the volcano in her reading, and now it was erupting.

How could it all be dismissed as mere coincidence?

But when Terdin spoke again, his tone was resolute.

“Even two coincidences are enough to make people cry divine revelation. When I broke through the Born Principality...”

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Terdin paused to bow his head apologetically to Charlon before continuing.

"…The seers there predicted our defeat. They said a disease falling from the sky would kill our soldiers, and a curse rising from the ground would force our army to retreat. And it all truly happened. Rain spread disease, and a sudden wildfire compelled us to relocate our forces."

Charlon nodded as if to validate the statement.

"I was young then, but the memory is vivid. Even my father said it was as if the gods were on our side."

"All the soldiers were terrified, convinced the curse would kill us. Morale plummeted, while the forces of Born gained confidence. It was then that I ordered an advance instead. You already know the outcome. Don’t be swayed, my prince."

"The general is right. But the problem lies in the fact that the people here won’t think that way,"

Damion said calmly.

Though he appeared tired, his composure only grew colder.

"Even if I declare that I do not believe in the superstitions of this place, if the people cling to them, I’ll merely become a heretic who rejects the faith of Geron. The Archbishop would be pleased, no doubt. But doing so would prevent me from ever truly becoming the ruler of this land. I’d remain a perpetual invader."

As their conversation continued, the commotion outside grew louder.

"What’s that noise?"

Damion asked.

"It’s the sound of a village trial being announced,"

Jedrick replied.

"A trial… Are they holding a trial for Hak Maraka now? Why in the middle of the night?"

Damion asked.

"When the volcano erupts, we resolve trials through duels,"

Jedrick answered.

Even as he spoke, he felt uneasy, as though he had deliberately triggered the volcano to erupt and ensnared Damion in a trap.

"A duel? You settle trials with combat?"

"Exactly."

"But didn’t you tell me yesterday that the side claiming guilt and the side claiming innocence present evidence and witnesses, and then the verdict is decided by a show of hands?"

"You understood correctly. But if Hakthus or Akamantum’s volcano erupts, it changes everything. It means an unjust verdict has been reached and a retrial must be held. That retrial is settled through combat."

Damion listened quietly and then pointed to himself.

"Does this trial have anything to do with me?"

‘That’s exactly what I’m worried about,’

Jedrick thought, unsure how to explain.

At that moment, a royal knight flung the banquet hall doors open.

"My prince, you must come at once."

When Jedrick and the others stepped outside, the situation had already escalated.

Hak Maraka knelt in the center of the square.

Even the gravest criminals were usually clothed, but he was stark naked.

Perhaps this was what Maraka had wanted—he always stripped himself bare when performing his sorcery.

Villagers surrounded the square.

Most who hadn’t appeared yesterday were now present, crowding noisily.

The men shouted:

Hakthus Mountain has roared.

Akamantum has expressed his wrath.

The verdict was wrong.

Execute Maraka!

Maraka is innocent!

No, he’s guilty!

Jedrick translated the chaos for Damion and began explaining the situation.

"Just so there’s no misunderstanding, village trials don’t normally begin like this. The person on trial comes forward formally, presents a defense of their innocence, the opposing side presents evidence of guilt, and the villagers calmly deliver a verdict."

"Then what’s with this frenzied display?"

Damion asked.

"When Hakthus erupts, people believe Akamantum has delivered a direct message. Everyone becomes like this. They take the opportunity to voice their own agendas, even dragging up old trials that were resolved years ago. Most of those shouting now don’t even know what Maraka’s charges are."

Jedrick, fearful Damion might misunderstand, hurriedly added:

"When I was a child, a man lost his land to another tribe member in a formal trial. A week later, Hakthus erupted. The man claimed Akamantum was angry about the verdict. People accepted his argument, and he challenged the other man to a duel."

"Did he win his land back?"

"No, he fought and died."

"So this isn’t your true method of justice, then?"

"It’s not as though we lack rational judicial processes. But when Hakthus erupts, reason is abandoned."

What truly puzzled Jedrick was Ikarum.

He still hadn’t imprisoned Olga, keeping her at his side instead.

She sat on the ground next to him as he stood in the square, shouting.

"Akamantum is angry!"

Ikarum was a warrior who loved battle, thrived on excitement, and often sought emotional clashes.

But he wasn’t one to incite others like this.

‘Ikarum isn’t acting like himself either.’

Everything around him felt strange and unfamiliar.

‘It all feels fake.’

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