Chapter 28
Chapter 28: The Purge Squad
The rank of “Sage” is never something one simply adopts on a whim; the standards required to earn it are uncompromising and absolute.
Among the Sages acknowledged across the Serdes Continent, Helus Fobidas had attained that lofty standing by a thoroughly bizarre route. He did not hail from Escoleia, the celebrated sanctuary of scholars, nor was he born into a noble lineage of sorcerers expected to display prodigal talent. In truth, his origins were rooted in nothing more prestigious than being a petty swindler.
Helus frequently recounted a specific tale regarding his elevation to the mantle of Sage.
He maintained that while slumbering, he had opened his eyes to behold a divine entity. This presence appeared in celestial majesty and presented him with a choice between two transcendent gifts.
The first path was the potential to ascend as a 7th Circle Archmage.
The second path offered all-encompassing wisdom and insight that spanned every mystery under the sun.
Although he could have grasped the 7th Circle and attained the might necessary to dominate the realm, Helus claimed he elected to receive boundless wisdom and understanding solely so he could dedicate his life to the betterment of humanity.
It was an extraordinarily brazen piece of fiction.
Even so, no one dared to dispute his narrative. Regardless of where the truth lay, he bore the revered designation of a Sage, and the intellect and insight he wielded bordered on the supernatural. Though he was fundamentally an avaricious and earthly creature, his sheer brilliance could not be denied, elevating him to something resembling a superhuman being in the public eye.
Yet behind closed doors, Helus Fobidas was far from such a noble figure. He was an individual swayed by petty malice and violent temper just like any common brute.
And at this very moment, Helus’s features were contorted in venomous fury.
His eyes glared down at the woman prostrated before him, burning with raw hatred as though she were the sole source of every grievance in his life. This battered, middle-aged woman had once been employed as his household maid.
Helus had liquidated half of his accumulated fortune simply to run her down. Adept sorcerers and relentless bounty hunters had pursued her tracks across several weeks, finally managing to drag her back to his estate in chains.
When she had first been brought through the gates, she had been beaten mercilessly like a wild beast. He had spent the entire night watching his enforcers strike her with rods until her limbs were fractured and she lacked the strength to even hold her posture.
She pressed her forehead against the floor, shaking in pure terror.
“P-please… have mercy, Master…” she wheezed through bloody lips.
“Master?” Helus let out a sinister chuckle. “Indeed, I was your master. Precisely. Are you aware of the fate that awaits a servant who turns their back on their master and flees?”
He struck a heavy wooden cudgel against the flat of his palm. “They are beaten until they lose the ability to even crawl.”
“P-please spare my life. I beg of you…”
The maid brought her broken, swollen fingers together, pleading frantically. Barely any teeth remained inside her bruised mouth.
“Very well, I shall grant you mercy—provided you disclose the exact location of that child you stole from my manor.”
“I truly do not know! I was deceived! The child slipped from my grasp!”
Helus drove his boot straight into the side of the woman’s skull. “Do you take me for a fool?! We discovered two solid gold coins tucked within your garments! Do you imagine I am blind to where they originated?!”
“Agh! Please, just grant me my life, I beg you!”
“Of course I will let you live—the moment I retrieve that brat! So start using whatever remains of your pathetic brain to remember! Think! Think! Think!”
Helus had to clench his fists to suppress the urge to butcher her where she lay. Yet he could not indulge himself. This miserable woman was the solitary link he possessed to recover “it.”
Right at that moment, a firm knock echoed from the entryway. A figure clad in a dark hood stepped into the chamber.
“Sage, the assignment you entrusted to us has been concluded.”
It was the most welcome development Helus had received in ages. He scrambled toward the newcomer with the frantic, unhinged delight of an infant receiving a long-awaited plaything.
“Ah! Present it to me. What have you uncovered?”
“Utilizing the likeness drawn from the maid’s testimony alongside our covert inquiries, we have determined that the individual responsible is the Regent of Valdrova.”
“The Regent… of Valdrova?”
“We anticipated your astonishment. He proved to be an unforeseen player to our network as well.”
Helus was not taken aback by the name itself—he was fully aware that Valdrova was an ancient dragon—yet he could not comprehend what this newly minted “Regent” represented.
“Our informants stationed in the Far East confirmed without a doubt that the culprits were the Regent and an accompanying maidservant. There is no ambiguity.”
“What manner of people are they?”
“As you might have heard, he recently took his place as the consort to the Archduchess of Valdrova and has assumed governance over the Archduchy—”
“Enough of that,” Helus snapped, cutting off the explanation with a dismissive flick of his wrist. “Are you telling me those wretched thieves made off with my prize?”
“That is indeed the case.”
Helus pieced together the situation. So the culprit who snatched his prize was the Archduchess’s newly wedded partner?
Had the man traveled across the continent from the Far East solely to claim it? For what purpose? Could he have unraveled its true significance?
Helus began chewing his fingernails in a flurry of nervous dread. That very “object” was the underlying secret behind his immense prestige and his primary avenue of generating wealth. That was why he had protected it so fiercely while simultaneously disguising it as an ordinary servant girl. After all, the easiest way to conceal a single tree is to hide it inside a dense forest.
To think he had lost possession of it because of this brainless wretch…
He had never conceived that the maid would harbor the audacity to pawn the child away. Helus glared down at the shivering servant with eyes full of murder.
The woman sobbed in agony, “C-congratulations, Master. You now k-know their identity, do you not?”
She struggled to press her mangled hands together, weeping and begging for her life.
“Please, allow me to depart. I beg of you. I swear I will never utter a single word regarding your affairs to anyone. I shall vanish quietly. Please…”
Helus stared at her with vacant, ruthless eyes.
There was an old adage that a man’s disposition shifts the moment his immediate need is satisfied. Now that he held verified intelligence, there was zero incentive to keep an untrustworthy, spent liability alive.
Helus glanced toward the cloaked operative. “You.”
“Speak, Sage.”
“Slaughter her. This woman serves no further purpose.”
“Y-you gave your word!”
The operative belonging to the Black Bandana unsheathed his blade and advanced toward the servant. Inescapable doom closed in around her. The maid, who had spent hours weeping and groveling, erupted in one final, desperate burst of fury.
“You vile hypocrite! I know your secrets! I know the atrocities you committed using that innocent girl! You are no Sage! You are a—”
Her head severed from her neck before the accusation could finish. The skull rolled pathetically across the carpet, her face frozen in a silent cry of horror.
The assassin wiped the red smear from his steel. “With the objective fulfilled, will you provide the agreed sum?”
“Naturally.”
Helus produced a coffer of fine gems amounting to a full quarter of his entire estate. The man inspected the contents briefly before stowing the box inside his leather satchel.
“The Black Bandana extends its gratitude for your patronage.”
Execute the contract, claim the bounty, and vanish into the shadows. Such was the iron creed of the clandestine syndicate.
With this final exchange, Helus had spent three-quarters of his accumulated fortunes.
Yet it was an unavoidable expense.
Exercising hesitation now would only guarantee his absolute downfall. Helus looked down at the two parchment portraits the operative had left upon the desk. The first portrayed a striking gentleman with ash-gray hair, while the other depicted a young, silver-haired girl with her hair bound in a high side-ponytail.
Helus’s bloated visage warped in sheer indignation.
A nameless mutt like him dares to lay his hands upon my personal property?
Swearing that he would subject them to a merciless retribution, Helus set his mind to scheming.
“How shall I reclaim what belongs to me…”
He possessed an abundance of avenues. Who was he, after all? A renowned Sage. A luminary whom sovereign nations courted relentlessly, begging him to grace their councils as a revered advisor. He was hailed as a living treasure of the continent, and naturally, emissaries from the Empire sought his favor constantly.
I can simply mobilize the Imperial Audit. Whether he calls himself a Regent or a prince, he is nothing more than an insect before the majesty of the Empire.
The adversary might be recognized as the betrothed of the Archduchess, yet that carried little weight. Valdrova had never manifested before mortal eyes ever since the assassination of the 3rd Imperial Prince. Decades had passed without her emergence, and the present era would be no different.
Helus placed his palm atop the crystal orb resting on his mahogany desk. Responding to the influx of his mana, the artifact began to pulse with light. Moments later, the glow settled, and a crisp voice reverberated through Helus’s mind.
—Warm greetings to the Sage of Water! This is Hans, communication officer serving the Great Arken Empire!
“Am I able to confer with Sir Karl Harvest for a brief moment?”
—Sir Karl Harvest? Certainly. Please hold the connection for a short interval.
After a brief pause, an energetic, boisterous voice sounded through the link.
—Ah, Sage! What an honor! Have you been keeping well?
“Haha, quite well indeed. And how fare your own duties, Karl?”
—I find myself tossing and turning each night! I am merely tallying the hours until you finally agree to take your rightful place within our Empire!
“Haha, is that the case?”
Helus felt a surge of smug assurance. He chose to steer the discussion directly toward his goal.
“Listen closely. A certain grievance has been weighing heavily upon my mind as of late.”
—A grievance, you say?
“A young servant under my care was abducted by an unscrupulous scoundrel. I have expended my faculties and utilized every ounce of my wisdom, and I have at last tracked her whereabouts.”
—Where is the culprit located? Simply utter the command, and the Empire shall mobilize to assist you!
“The… Regent of Valdrova, or so my sources indicate.”
—The Regent of Valdrova!
Karl’s tone registered profound surprise.
“What is the matter? Does that present a complication?”
—Not at all! I was merely reflecting on what an astonishing alignment of fate this is! Word has reached us that this upstart has been stepping out of line in recent weeks.
“He has gained such notoriety already?”
—Our Purge Squad was already making preparations to march out and instruct the boy on proper obedience!
“Oh, is that so? Yet he is linked to a dragon; will that not pose a hazard?”
—Haha! Pay it no heed! You and I both know that ancient wyrms practically never meddle in human conflicts.
“T-that is indeed true.”
Helus had no real insight into the habits of dragons, yet he readily played along.
—That young fool will be forced to stand on his own two feet, and what leverage does he hold? Regardless of how much he thrashes, he remains entirely subordinate to Imperial decree! We have caught wind that the frontier lords view him with deep suspicion, so it is high time we demonstrate who truly commands authority!
Helus grinned wickedly. “Then I place this favor in your hands. While you are instilling proper discipline within him, see to it that you retrieve that young girl and return her to my custody! Should you deliver her to me, I shall gladly enter the service of the Empire just as you have long requested!”
—Splendid! You give your word? In that case, I shall carry out your request with the utmost pleasure! Hahaha!
“Excellent. I shall transmit a visual likeness. Secure the child and bring her back. I place my faith in your execution!”
—Rest easy, leave every detail to us!
Helus severed the resonance, wearing a smirk of profound contentment.
This was the intoxicating authority and reverence he commanded as a Sage. Once an individual had tasted such absolute deference, it became impossible to ever relinquish it.
The moment I regain custody of that girl… I will no longer be an imposter playing a part; I will stand as a genuine Sage once more.
For that exact reason, he had to reclaim her, regardless of the price.
“Your Excellency. A formal dispatch has been delivered from the Imperial capital.”
“Hmm, has it arrived at last?”
The aged patriarch, Ulvera Consilus, stroked his gray beard as he lifted the sealed letter from the silver platter. Noting the official insignia of the Empire, he harbored a faint hope that the logistical bureau was finally tendering an apology for their recent blunders.
“Hmm…”
However, the instant his gaze registered the seal of the sender, Consilus felt his veins surge with pure indignation.
—The Purge Squad.
“Heh… hahah…”
Consilus let out a dry, exasperated chuckle at the sheer absurdity.
“Arwen.”
“At your command, Your Excellency.”
“An epistle from the Purge Squad has landed upon our soil. It appears the vultures have finally spotted fresh meat to scavenge.”
“Those shameless degenerates dare approach us…”
Arwen’s grip tightened on the hilt of his weapon in open fury. Consilus leaned the parchment toward the glowing hearth before him, ready to burn it without granting it the dignity of a perusal.
“Hmm…”
Yet a sudden realization halted his hand. It might be prudent to observe what sort of prey the hyenas were hunting this time. His sharp instincts proved entirely accurate.
—What manner of individual is Ferda Valdrova?
The Imperial enforcers were not aiming their blades at Count Consilus; their target was Ferda.
“These pompous bastards have set their sights upon the Regent.”
Arwen was visibly shaken. “They would dare direct their schemes against the spouse of an ancient dragon?”
“Do you imagine those sheltered fools lounging within the Imperial capital have ever laid eyes upon a true dragon? They are the sort of cowards who tremble before common woodland trolls while laughing off ancient horrors as mere myth.”
A fist raised close to the face induces far more dread than a legendary blade resting leagues away. They had inherited cautionary tales regarding the wrath of dragons, yet this current generation had never witnessed such cataclysms with their own eyes.
“Furthermore, when you examine the matter objectively, their boldness is not entirely unfounded.”
“How so, My Lord?”
“Reflect upon our own conduct: have we not treated Lady Valdrova as though she were a ghost until recent days?”
“Ah…”
“And we openly scorned him, viewing him as nothing more than a figurehead ‘fiancé’ attached to the Archduchess.”
“That is undeniable, yet…” Arwen flushed in embarrassment as he recalled his own past hostility. “Even so, for a common Imperial soldier to draft such an insolent missive with the intent to shake down the Regent is beyond belief…”
“It stands as absolute testimony to how rotten the Arken Empire has become.”
The high nobility wallowed in decadent luxury while the blades of their knights grew dull and rusted. They bled the outer territories dry, siphoning heavy levies merely to preserve lavish peace within the capital. Multiple rebellions had flared up in protest over the years, only to be ruthlessly crushed, their leaders silenced in total secrecy.
The foundations laid down by their forebears were robust, allowing the grand edifice of state to endure even as rot hollowed it out from within. Yet when the inevitable collapse arrived, the ruins would come crashing down without mercy. Consilus, who had long resigned himself to being a minor frontier Count, had previously intended to simply drift along with the tide of decline.
Yet circumstances had shifted entirely.
“Ferda Valdrova…”
A singular beacon of hope, the true backbone of the land. When disaster loomed, Ferda was the solitary figure who extended genuine aid without demanding praise—all for the prosperity and protection of the outer provinces.
Perhaps that was the very reason the Count felt such fierce resolve.
“Insolent fools.”
Consilus could not contain his rising anger. He was an old fox who had spent a lifetime playing both sides of politics, yet he remained a true lord who placed the welfare of his people above all else. Just as life and hope were finally taking root across the Far East, he would never permit these arrogant whelps to tear it down.
“I shall see to it that the Purge Squad is brought to its knees.”
Not merely checked or intimidated, but utterly broken and subdued. He had no intention of allowing corrupt inquisitors to frame honorable frontier lords as villains. And to execute that ambition, he needed to align himself with Ferda Valdrova.
Those Imperial lackeys have no conception of what sort of entity the consort of Valdrova truly is.
With that resolve, he chose to pen a scathing diatribe against Ferda in his official response. He deliberately fabricated detailed accounts describing how Ferda had coerced and terrorized the provincial lords, painting him as a tyrant of monstrous depravity.
“Deliver this dispatch to the Purge Squad at once. Their response will undoubtedly arrive without delay.”
“Understood, Your Excellency. Shall I send word to Regent Valdrova ahead of time?”
Count Consilus pondered the suggestion for a brief heartbeat before shaking his head.
“No, let this remain strictly between us. The entire affair will reach its conclusion by the time we reach their presence regardless.”
“Understood.”
Though he kept his thoughts to himself, Consilus harbored one final curiosity. He wished to witness firsthand how Ferda would handle himself when he stood face-to-face with the Imperial Purge Squad.
And his expectations would not be disappointed.
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