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0082 | Fugitives

  The meeting lasted for hours, yet in the end, almost no concrete decisions had been made. In the increasingly heavy atmosphere of the hall, nerves were frayed, and debates had become entangled with one another. The greatest problem was that no one knew when and where the new demons would emerge. This uncertainty made it impossible to determine the course of the war. Rhazgord had agreed to fight on the front lines, but there was no clear front to begin with. The enemy could strike at any time, from anywhere. Within this uncertainty, the question of how and from where Rhazgord would reach the battlefield as quickly as possible remained unresolved. The debates tangled like unsolvable knots, and with each passing minute, finding a way out became even more difficult.

  Another major issue was the extent to which Rhazgord would be supported. Corvus had announced that the Rhazgord army would be expanded, but this brought a significant problem along with it. Even in its current state, providing logistical support to Rhazgord’s army across the continent seemed nearly impossible. With the addition of new forces, the procurement of supplies, weapons, armor, and horses would become even more complicated. Moreover, the kingdoms that had pledged support were not only responsible for Rhazgord’s army but also had to prepare their own lands and soldiers for the approaching danger. Resources were limited, and no one wanted to risk their own security. The echoes of voices in the hall, the rising objections, did more to fuel chaos than to find a solution.

  As the sun lost its last rays over the city of Rax, it became clear that the meeting could no longer continue. Darkness crept stealthily between the city’s stone walls, and the shadows stretching across the streets grew longer. Finally, when it was announced that the meeting would resume the following morning, the hall began to empty all at once. However, even as the representatives left the room, their arguments continued. The questions of who would provide how much support and who would bear how much responsibility were still unanswered. No one wanted to carry the heavy burden alone. A thick silence was only broken by the sound of footsteps, leaving behind nothing but unease and uncertainty.

  Corvus wiped the sweat from his forehead and furrowed his brows. As the noise and endless debates echoed in his mind, his head felt like a battlefield. It was true that Rhazgord had a chaotic political environment, but there, the solution was simple: swords were drawn, and the problem was resolved quickly. Here, however, there was only talking. Endless meetings gave birth to more problems rather than solutions. Corvus had learned, at least to some extent, how to use words skillfully, but this level of noise and chaos was unbearable. Rubbing his temples lightly, he stepped into his chamber, hoping for a moment of silence. Yet even here, he found no peace.

  As he entered his room, his eyes quickly scanned the interior. In the pale glow of candlelight, the silhouette of Zarqa stood in the corner. He was certain that Zarqa had done his duty flawlessly; the only reason for his presence here was that there was something that needed to be reported. Corvus sighed—he did not even have a moment to rest. Casting a brief glance at Zarqa with his tired eyes, he walked heavily toward his desk. He collapsed onto the chair, taking a deep breath.

  “Speak.” he said, his voice weary.

  Zarqa did not hesitate for a moment before he spoke. His words were sharp and precise, with no unnecessary details.

  “We took the inn and eliminated its former owner. However, when we seized the inn and told them we were from Rhazgord, some of the customers reacted strangely—almost as if in fear.”

  Corvus raised an eyebrow and turned his head. What nonsense was this now? He thought Zarqa was fixating on something trivial. It wasn’t surprising that people feared Rhazgord’s name.

  “People think we eat weak children who are bad at fighting, Zarqa. Of course, they’re afraid.” he said with a sarcastic smirk.

  But Zarqa shook his head in disagreement and took a few steps closer. The shadow of seriousness lingering on his face was enough to capture Corvus’s attention.

  “At first, I thought the same,” he said in a quiet but firm voice.

  “But then, they spoke of a gang. A gang that Rhazgordians are members of.”

  Corvus’s eyes instantly narrowed. This was unexpected information. It was forbidden for Rhazgordians to leave their lands without permission. There was no way they could freely roam or establish their own order in another kingdom. Yet, there were always those who managed to escape. No matter how strict Rhazgord’s rule was, some people broke their chains and left. The administration usually did not concern itself with these deserters, but when they were found, their punishment was inevitable.

  Corvus took a deep breath and pressed his fingers to his temples. His mind, clouded by the chaos of the meeting and the weight of exhaustion, wanted to dismiss Zarqa’s report as insignificant. There had always been deserters from Rhazgord, and most of them chose to live in hiding. Most either disappeared into obscurity while trying to build a new life or were eventually found and punished. He narrowed his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts.

  “They’ve likely already realized we’re here and gone into hiding. Forget it,” he said, his voice tired but firm.

  He had no time to deal with a few runaway warriors. He had far bigger problems ahead. Besides, he wasn’t as furious about deserters as the other Rhazgordians were. He understood how difficult it was to endure Rhazgord’s harsh conditions. His eyes fixated on a spot on the table. For a moment, he thought of his brother. He had even considered sending him to Rax to live. Perhaps he could have had a better life here. However, the expression on Zarqa’s face suggested he had something else in mind.

  “Actually, they could be useful to us.” Zarqa said, his voice spreading through the room like a shadow.

  Corvus’s curiosity was piqued. He fixed his gaze on Zarqa and adjusted his posture slightly.

  “I’m listening.” he said, his voice slightly more alive.

  Zarqa pulled up a chair and moved closer to the table. The candlelight accentuated the sharp lines of his face. His eyes gleamed with determination.

  “If we find the deserters and take control of their gang—”

  But before Zarqa could finish his sentence, Corvus raised his hand sharply, cutting him off.

  “No! Too risky.”

  His voice filled the room, making it clear that his decision was final. But Zarqa had no intention of backing down. Leaning slightly forward in his chair, he lowered his voice.

  “All we need to do is take control of the fugitives, Corvus.” he said, his words carefully chosen.

  “Through this gang, we can access a lot of information without drawing attention. If we manage to take control of other gangs as well, just think about the amount of intelligence we’d have in our hands.”

  Corvus tapped his fingers on the table and fell into thoughtful silence. The exhaustion weighed on his entire body like a heavy burden. What Zarqa was saying made sense, but such a game carried immense risks. One wrong move, and Rhazgord’s name could be tarnished in other kingdoms. Closing his eyes, he pondered for a brief moment.

  Finally, he let out a deep breath and lifted his head. “Investigate discreetly, and do not reveal that you are from Rhazgord.” he said, his voice still cautious.

  “But don’t get ahead of yourself. Learn everything before taking action.”

  Zarqa nodded in acknowledgment and rose from his chair. Just as he was about to head toward the door, he paused and glanced over his shoulder at Corvus.

  “Can’t the Adler prince help?” he asked.

  “If he assists, we could find the deserters immediately.”

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  Corvus hesitated for a moment.

  “Okey. Tell Belisarius I want to meet with him.” he finally said, his voice resolute.

  Zarqa silently acknowledged the order, nodding slightly and withdrawing obediently. As he left the room with swift and determined steps, he left behind only the flickering glow of candlelight. The heavy wooden door slowly closed, and the shadows on the walls continued to dance. Corvus rubbed his eyes for a moment; his exhaustion was weighing heavier by the minute. He knew Belisarius would arrive shortly, so there was no point in starting anything new. Instead, he decided to close his eyes and rest for a few minutes despite the turmoil in his mind. However, his thoughts whirled like a howling wind, making peace impossible.

  He had no sense of how much time had passed, but the creaking sound of the door jolted him back to reality. A stern-faced Rhazgord warrior entered, gave a brief salute, and conveyed his message in a single sentence: “Belisarius is waiting for you.” Corvus slowly rose to his feet, trying to push aside his gloomy thoughts as he made his way to the door.

  Stepping outside, he immediately caught the keen gaze of Belisarius, who was waiting with his characteristic confidence. The prince’s sharp eyes quickly took note of Corvus’s weariness.

  “I expected you to be tired, but not this much!” he said with a faint smile before his voice took on a friendlier tone.

  “Come, let’s go out into the palace garden. Some fresh air will do you good.”

  The two began walking side by side. As they passed through the palace’s grand corridors adorned with intricately carved columns, the flickering light of torches cast restless shadows along their path. Corvus, lost in thought, unconsciously slowed his steps. But when they reached the garden, the cool night breeze on his face brought him back to himself. The clear sky was adorned with stars, and the moonlight bathed the garden in a peaceful glow. He remained silent, his mind still a storm.

  He had been here with Sardiun that morning. As the memory surfaced in his mind, Belisarius’s voice pulled him back to the present. They reached a large stone pavilion covered in vine leaves at the center of the garden and sat across from each other. Corvus remained silent for a long time, his gaze fixed on a single point. Belisarius watched him with an expression that was both impatient and understanding. Finally, it was Belisarius who broke the silence.

  “Did you summon me just to be your scenery?” he asked, his voice carrying a touch of sarcasm but also genuine camaraderie. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

  “Come on, spill it out.”

  Corvus flinched slightly, as if waking from a trance. Running a hand through his hair, he locked eyes with Belisarius. There was something beyond exhaustion in his gaze—an unspoken weight, perhaps unease.

  “I need your help with something.” he said, his voice both hesitant and resolute.

  Belisarius considered this for a moment. “Is it about the meeting?” he asked, as that seemed the most likely concern.

  Corvus shook his head. “That’s a headache too.” he admitted, his tone turning more serious.

  “But there’s something else.”

  Belisarius studied his friend carefully. The meeting had just ended and he had not yet heard the details. His father Justinian had been telling him the details of the meeting when he had been summoned. But Justinian had ordered him to leave when he heard Corvus calling him. But now, seeing the seriousness of Corvus' testimony, he realized that the matter was deeper than he had expected. As he waited for Corvus' explanation, his curiosity grew.

  “There are a few Rhazgordians I need you to find for me.”

  Belisarius was momentarily taken aback. It wasn’t unusual for Corvus to ask him to locate people, but the fact that he was specifically seeking Rhazgordians unsettled him. Narrowing his eyes, he scrutinized Corvus’s face.

  “I don’t quite understand. Do you want me to send word to Rhazgord?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

  Corvus slowly shook his head.

  “No, the men I’m looking for are already here. In Rax. That’s why I need your help.”

  Belisarius’s eyes widened slightly. He parted his lips as if to say something but hesitated. Rhazgordians rarely left their homeland, and from what little he knew, those who were captured were forcibly returned. Yet, in all his time in Rax, he had never heard even the slightest rumor about Rhazgordians being present.

  “If they’re in Rax, then it won’t be a problem. I’ll find them soon enough.” he said. But after a brief pause, his brows furrowed.

  “But I’ll need more details.”

  If Rhazgordians were truly hiding in Rax, either they were masters at concealment, or Corvus had received faulty intelligence. Belisarius prided himself on being aware of almost everything happening in the city. If he had missed this, then it meant these people were deeply embedded in something dangerous.

  Corvus folded his arms and took a deep breath.

  “A gang, or perhaps an underground organization… whatever it is, they’re part of it. I need you to find their whereabouts and their names for me.”

  Hearing this, Belisarius felt an uncomfortable twinge. Rax was filled with countless underground factions, each deeply entrenched in the city’s fabric. These organizations weren’t just independent groups vying for power and wealth; they operated under the patronage of influential politicians. That was what made dealing with them so dangerous.

  Even as the crown prince, Belisarius couldn’t simply eliminate them. Not even King Justinianus held absolute power over them. The city’s leading officials had strengthened their ties with Sizat, ensuring that their control over the underworld remained untouchable.

  Belisarius exhaled deeply, lowering his gaze. “Finding people is not an issue.” he said, his voice tinged with weariness. “But this whole ‘gang’ situation complicates things.” He paused, fixing his eyes on Corvus.

  “Where exactly did you hear about this?”

  Corvus hesitated briefly before choosing his words carefully, mixing truth with a small deception.

  “I had Zarqa procure some things for me. The other customers where he went mistook him for a gang member. A gang that supposedly has Rhazgordians among them…”

  Belisarius remained silent for a moment, scrutinizing his friend’s expression. Yet, finding no trace of deceit in Corvus’s eyes, he brought a hand to his chin, lost in thought. Minutes passed in silence, but Corvus waited patiently.

  At last, Belisarius gave a slow nod. “I’ll find them.” he said.

  “But I can’t act recklessly. This is delicate, Corvus.”

  Corvus turned to him with curiosity.

  “You’re the crown prince. You’re just finding a few criminals. What kind of problem could they possibly cause?”

  Belisarius let out a deep sigh and gave Corvus a brief summary of the political structure in Adler. As he listened, Corvus began to form a new idea in his mind. With a sly smile, he spoke.

  “Belisarius, all I need is for you to find these men for me. I’ll take care of the rest. In fact, if you want, I can wipe out the entire gang. All I have to do is claim that the Rhazgordians I’m looking for weren’t runaways—they were kidnapped by this gang.”

  Belisarius hesitated. Getting involved in this could be far more dangerous than he anticipated. But it could also be an opportunity.

  “Do you know about the senators?” Belisarius asked, his voice quiet but laced with unmistakable sharpness.

  Corvus had heard of the Senate but didn’t know much about it. He assumed it was similar to the Tribal Council in Rhazgord. He had seen the senators numerous times around King Justinianus—old, shrewd men whose expressions bore the wear of age but also an unsettling wisdom. Many had wanted to meet Corvus, but he had always found an excuse to avoid them. Yet, from the glimpses he caught, he sensed that some were involved in darker affairs.

  He nodded, signaling for Belisarius to continue.

  “The senators used to have no power.” Belisarius said, his gaze darkening.

  “But as Adler weakened, those bastards grew stronger. And most of them are dogs of the Sizat Empire.”

  Corvus thought of the senators and compared them to Rhazgord’s tribal leaders. Unlike in Adler, the leaders in Rhazgord couldn’t simply ignore the Tiamats’ authority. Yet, he suspected that some had their own secret dealings with outside forces.

  Belisarius turned to him, his face set in hard lines.

  “Most of these crime organizations are controlled by four major senators. The men you’re looking for are likely working for one of them.”

  Corvus slowly lifted his head, sensing what Belisarius was about to ask. A faint smile played on his lips, but his eyes remained serious.

  “Do you want me to kill them?” he asked, his voice as cold and precise as a dulled blade.

  Belisarius narrowed his eyes and nodded.

  "Not all of them. Only whoever the men you're looking for work for."

  Corvus ran a hand over his forehead, massaging it before exhaling sharply and leaning back. He hadn’t come here to meddle in Adler’s internal affairs. Eliminating the political enemies of a foreign kingdom was not his responsibility. On the other hand, if these senators were truly working for Sizat, this was no longer just a state matter but part of a much greater threat.

  “Look, my friend.” he began, his voice softer but firm.

  “I’ll support you from the outside as much as you want, but killing a senator… that would be direct interference in your internal affairs. And that’s not something I want to get involved in.”

  But Belisarius had a different plan.

  “You won’t be the one to kill.” he said, a flicker of mockery and danger in his eyes.

  “I will.”

  His words fell like a dagger thrown into the void. Corvus could see the man's determination. There was a deeper strategy here, and Belisarius was pulling the strings like a master puppeteer. At least he thought so.

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