Chapter 156: |
*Swish!*
The dagger wielded by the Hassassin arced in a trajectory through the air, aiming for Otto’s throat.
“Pfft.”
Otto found Hassassin’s attack comical.
In comparison to Elise or Kairos, the Hassassin’s attack was so inconsequential that he didn’t even consider it a threat.
He knew that they were hiding in the sand in the first place, and he was already ready for whatever was coming.
*Bam!*
Otto whipped the parasol around and struck Hassassin in the head.
*Thud!*
“Where.”
Otto grabbed the Hassassin’s mouth in haste, shoving sand into his mouth to prevent him from biting the poison.
“Keuck, kuucck!”
The Hassassin choked and gagged as he was forced to take in a mouthful of sand.
“…..”
“…..”
“…..”
The people who witnessed the spectacle were left speechless by Otto’s viciousness.
It’s not normal for a man to be able to stir up the hearts of the Hassassin hidden in the sand by slowly bringing them to their deaths, but to force them to eat sand while they’re still alive…
“Bastard.”
Otto scoffed and sneered at the Hassassin.
“What are you trying to do, bastard? If you’re planning to die, you should give me the information first and then die.”
“Good catch.”
Camille handed Otto a bottle of ice cold water and a cold washcloth.
“Oh, the service is good these days, huh?”
“So please, stop craving it..”
Camille replied in a tired, hoarse voice.
“Ever since last time….”
“Hmph.”
Otto snorted.
“I guess you’re being nice to me all of a sudden because you’re guilty of something.”
“…What’s that even supposed to mean?”
“I’m saying that husbands who cheat on their wives outside are usually nicer than usual when they come home, because they feel guilty.”
“…..”
“You didn’t do anything behind my back? Eh? Did you pledge allegiance to Prince Saladin secretly? Hmm?”
Camille made no reply.
“Get up.”
“Kwak!”
Instead, he marched over to the wheezing Hassassin and kicked him in the butt to vent his anger.
Due to Camille’s personality, he couldn’t openly beat him up, especially since there were many eyes on him if he tried to do it as usual.
As a result, he had no choice but to release his anger on the unnecessarily innocent Hassassin timidly.
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Around the time when Otto and his party, along with Saladin, were crossing the desert towards the capital Al-Salam.
Abdul II, the Sultan-King of Caliphate and Saladin’s father, was furious when he received the report.
“How dare they!!!”
The sultan’s outburst was fiery and filled with unbridled rage.
“It’s bad enough that the Nuristanis have razed Jalalabad to the ground… and now they dare to send those damned Hassassins to kill my son? HOW DARE THEY!”
At that ferocious roar, all his subjects cowered in fear, not daring to speak up.
The power of Sultan Abdul II in the current Caliphate was absolute.
Having been strengthened by generations of sultans, Abdul II’s authority was at its peak.
It was so strong that not even the state religion, the Church of Anan, would dare to put the brakes on it.
Abdul II’s anger was so intense that it was not unreasonable for his subjects to submit to him.
At the slightest hint of a mistake or a bad word, one could be dismissed or, if they were unlucky, beheaded.
“Prepare the Army at once.”
Abdul II commanded.
“First, round up any Nuristanis you find, regardless of gender, young or old, and raze their villages to the ground. Make them pay for what they’ve done to Jalalabad a hundred times over. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sultan.”
“Also, strengthen our front line defenses, put more pressure on the areas controlled by the Ismailis, and then prepare for war. Within a few years, I intend to wipe the Ismaili bastards out of our Caliphate.”
Abdul II’s declaration effectively reignited the Caliphate’s relatively dormant civil war.
But Abdul II had different ideas.
‘Come, I will seize this opportunity to rid the land of all those tribes that are disloyal to our dynasty, and establish a unified dynasty of one ethnicity.’
The current royal family, the Pamirs, have been building up their influence and power over the past few generations.
This was the reason for the recent opening of trade ports and the aggressive exportation of magic stones.
So for Abdul II, although it was understandable to be angry, the situation was like a slap in the face that made him want to laugh.
For the past few years, he had lacked an excuse to attack tribes not aligned with his dynasty, and the Nuristanis’ attack on Jalalabad had provided him with a justification.
“It’s not just the Nuristan tribe that we’re going to be targeting. We’ll also hit the Hanafis and the Gujjars, cutting them all off. Only then can we finish those Ismaili scoundrels in the north.”
“Yes, Sultan.”
With that, the Kingdom of Caliphate began to prepare for war at the command of the Sultan.
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At the same time.
The second largest force after the royal Pamirs, the Ismailis had been rebelling for nearly a century against the Caliphate’s reign in the northern mountainous region of Allamut.¹
And at its center, the Fortress of Masiaf.
“The time has finally come.”
Rashid, the leader of the Ismailis and head of the Hassassins, was thrilled to learn of the events in Jalalabad.
“Abdul II will not let this go to waste. He will raise an army and declare war, and attempt to wipe out the other tribes.”
Rashid had managed to see right through Abdul II.
At 80 years old, the Caliphs feared him, calling him the Old Man of the Mountain, and for a good reason.
Rashid is a shrewd strategist perched in the mountains, looking down on the Caliphate as if holding it in the palm of his hand.
It was not for nothing that the Caliphate’s armies had not succeeded in conquering the Ismailis’ stronghold in Allamut.
“Listen.”
Rashid stroked his graying beard and instructed the tribal elders.
“Thanks to the foolish Nuristanis, we have an unexpected stroke of good fortune. Abdul II will take this opportunity to wage war. And the tip of the sword will be pointed first at the tribes hostile to the Pamirs. So listen, we, the Ismailis… will help Abdul II.”
In that moment.
‘Did I hear wrong?’
‘What?’
The elders of the Ismailis momentarily doubted their ears when they heard Rashid’s words.
Aiding the Sultan, Abdul II?
These were not words that would come out of the mouth of an Ismaili who was at odds with the Pamirs for over 100 years.
“How can you say such a thing?”
“It makes no sense to us.”
“Please enlighten us, Wise Old Man of the Mountain.”
The elders of the tribe craned their necks toward Rashid, seeking his counsel.
Unless his judgment was clouded by old age, Rashid, a cunning and ruthless strategist, would not have said such an outlandish thing.
“Abdul II must be very confident. With all the money he’s raised from trading, he must be assured of his military strength, However the other tribes have also acquired a lot of money from the smuggling trade and have been growing in power in secret.”
Rashid smiled and explained to the elders the rationale behind his judgment.
“It will not be easy for Abdul II to crush the other tribes. In such a situation, do you think the other tribes would follow us, the Ismailis?”
At that moment.
“……!”
“……!”
“……!”
The astonished elders looked at Rashid with wide eyes.
“If we help Abdul II win several early victories, the other tribes will look to us, the Ismailis, for help. Then, naturally, we Ismailis will become the center of the resistance, and our influence will grow. Moreover.”
Rashid continued.
“How much enmity will Abdul II incur in the process of his streak of victories? Aren’t we Caliphs a nation of fighters who grow stronger with each setback? I, Rashid, intend to help Abdul II accumulate enough karma from the beginning of the war. So that the animosity and hatred of the various tribes will only increase.”
At this, the elders began to sing Rashid’s praises, nodding their heads in unison.
“Oh!”
“Indeed, truly, the Old Man of the Mountain!”
The tribal elders hadn’t expected such a cunning and terrifying strategy.
“This land is the grave of empires. The Pamir dynasty will eventually fall. Just like the great powers that have come before our Caliphate over the past few hundred years.”
With that, Rashid turned to his minions and ordered.
“Have our subordinates and spies provide information to Abdul II’s army, stealthily and subtly so that he doesn’t notice, so that the other tribes will struggle from the outset.”
“We shall do as you command.”
“Hmm.”
Rashid stroked his white beard, and took a long drag on his cigarette.
The thick smoke from his cigarette wafted out, framing his face and giving him an even more sinister appearance.
“Saladin… if I can just get rid of Abdul II’s son, my strategy will be complete….”
Rashid said to himself.
“I won’t need any more of the Hassassin to deal with him… At this rate, Abdul II will take care of Saladin himself… Hehehe.”
‘Abdul II, the Sultan, will take care of Saladin, his son and Crown Prince?’
The elders had no idea the extent of Rashid’s thinking.
If Rashid, the Old Man of the Mountain, was mumbling such things, he must have a basis…
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Otto had completely subdued his captive Hassassin and began interrogating him.
Thinking he might be able to get some useful information out of him.
“Your name is.”
“…….”
“I’ll ask again, what is your name?”
“…….”
“Ugh.”
Otto sighed heavily in frustration as the Hassassin remained silent with his mouth clamped shut.
“You’re making people frustrated over something that could be easy. Do you think you can just exercise your right to remain silent and everything will be fine? Fine, keep your mouth shut. I know everything.”
With that, Otto strode off to the edge of the convoy, where Kairos’s palanquin² rested.
Kairos had been crammed into the palanquin since they left Jalalabad, and he hadn’t even bothered showing his face.
‘Had he had enough suffering in his life and he didn’t want to suffer more?’
“Ugh!”
As soon as Otto arrived at the palanquin, his face crumpled at the stench of alcohol that assaulted his nose.
*Swish*
As soon as he pulled back the cloth, the strong scent of alcohol hit him like a ton of bricks.
“…What is it?”
A skull liquor.
Kairos, who had been sipping on the Skull, looked at Otto with half-lidded eyes.
Drinking alcohol was forbidden in Caliphate for religious reasons, so he must have known better, because he was huddled in the palanquin, drinking his fill.
‘At least this guy seems to have some sense. Pfft.’
Otto chuckled under his breath, then spoke to Kairos.
“Stop guzzling back here and crawl out and do something with that mind thing.”
“Hmm?”
“I’ve caught a guy who might have some information. So come out here for a minute.”
“You little punk, how dare you ask me to come and check on him.”
“If you keep acting like that, do you want me to not take you to the harem?”
“Ha… Harem…?”
“Do you think the Sultan will treat me poorly, he’ll be so nice to me, he’ll bring me into his harem?”
“Hmph!”
Kairos gulped hard.
In this world, a “Harem” was a mysterious place of luxury for the Sultan, where all the pleasures of this world were said to exist.
It was an unknown world that stirred the lustful imaginations of the continentals.
“You’ve never been to the harem, have you? It’s not like you’ve occupied all the way to Al-Salam.”
“Well, yes.”
“Are you going to crawl out, or are you going to stay in there and drink perma….”
“Let’s go! To the harem!”
Kairos spurred his palanquin and bolted out.
Even before Otto could finish his words….
** ** **
TL/N:
1. Reference: Alamut (Persian: الموت, lit. ’eagle’s nest’) is a mountain fortress at an altitude of 2163 meters at the central Alborz, in the Iranian stanza of Qazvin, about 100 kilometers from Tehran. In 1090 AD, the Alamut Castle, a mountain fortress in present-day Iran, came into the possession of Hassan-i Sabbah, a champion of the Nizari Ismaili cause. Until 1256, Alamut functioned as the headquarters of the Nizari Ismaili state, which included a series of strategic strongholds scattered throughout Persia and Syria, with each stronghold being surrounded by swathes of hostile territory.
2. Camel Palanquin