Shadow's Oath

Chapter 88

[Translator - Night]

[Proofreader - Gun]

Chapter 88: Olga’s Trial (1)

Everything was too fast and too chaotic.

The villagers were overly agitated, and Ikarum was even more so, speaking rapidly.

Jedrick found it difficult to interpret everything in this situation.

"Brother, you know that the fate of the village is at stake right now. A battlefield with swords and arrows flying would be more comfortable for you. This kind of situation must be uncomfortable. It’s not something you’re used to, either."

Ikarum had been the chieftain for less than a month.

There was no way this was easy for him.

That’s why, naturally, it wasn’t him leading the trial—it was their mother.

“I will ask you, Hag Olga. Is it true that you sent the Conqueror and his companions to the temple of Raham?”

Their mother got straight to the point, cutting out all unnecessary words.

Jedrick had expected Olga to deny everything, claiming it was all a misunderstanding.

Or perhaps there was some special reason he didn’t know about.

He thought she would at least offer some kind of excuse.

But her response was short.

“Yes.”

Though she answered the mother, her gaze was directed at the prince.

It almost felt as if she was looking at Jedrick, who stood beside Damion.

Her unfocused, lifeless eyes evoked pity.

Her once-attractive lips were now smeared with blood and dirt.

Her smooth skin was bruised, and her usually neat attire was torn beyond recognition.

“Is it true that you sent a letter to Tagda’s Ehodin through Dulam?”

Miela asked, as if to confirm Dulam’s confession.

“It is true.”

“Was it really your intention to hand the Conqueror over to Halles?”

“Yes.”

“Explain the process. Confess that our tribe was in no way involved in it.”

Jedrick read many things from Miela’s expression—firm, yet somehow pleased.

‘Mother hated Olga. What woman could like someone who shared a bed with her husband? She must have been waiting for an opportunity to deal with her. That desire wouldn’t have disappeared just because Father died. There wouldn’t be a better chance than this.’

Jedrick vividly remembered that it was his mother who had first insisted on holding this trial.

‘It wasn’t because of Lord Vadio’s pressure. Even if he hadn’t been here, Mother would have found a way to throw Olga into the fire.’

He quickly understood Olga’s calm, resigned expression.

The moment Miela called for a trial, she must have known her fate, accepted it, and chosen not to resist.

“If I confess, will the prince believe in this village’s innocence? I was the one who pushed him toward death in the first place. Have you forgotten?”

Olga spoke as if addressing an old friend.

Jedrick chose not to interpret this part.

Miela snapped,

“Then just answer the questions. When did you start planning this?”

“Since Adian Mantum died.”

“That’s when you sent the letter through Dulam?”

Miela pointed at Dulam’s head, which had been left in plain view, a clear warning for the next person on trial.

The blazing firewood was another effective intimidation tactic.

Compared to that, a beheading might seem merciful.

“Yes. I asked Dulam to send the letter.”

“Did you give him medicine as payment?”

“Yes.”

“How did you know the prince would come and prepare in advance?”

“I didn’t know.”

“What do you mean? Didn’t you tell a fortune?”

“I didn’t need Rune’s help for something like this.”

“You didn’t divine it?”

“I never did.”

Miela was briefly speechless in surprise.

Jedrick used the pause to catch up on his delayed interpretation.

When he finished, Damion stared at him in shock, as if doubting whether he had translated correctly.

Miela continued.

“Then are you saying you planned all of this alone?”

Olga responded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Yes.”

Damion, listening to the translation, shouted,

“That’s impossible! You said you planned this from the moment Mantum died! I wasn’t even here at that time. How could you have planned to send me to Iktaron’s temple when I wasn’t even present? How could you have sent a letter to Halles about someone who wasn’t even here? It makes no sense!”

Olga switched to the southern common language.

“It’s simple logic, Your Highness. I didn’t predict everything. I only foresaw one thing: Since Mantum is dead, the Conqueror will soon come to rule or deal with this village… That was all.”

“Then your target back then wasn’t me?”

“No. My goal was simply to send whoever the Conqueror was to Iktaron’s temple. The rest, I left for Halles to handle. I wrote in my letter: Red smoke will rise. Follow the smoke, and you will find a way to kill the southern Conqueror.”

Miela, who understood some southern language, asked,

“Are you saying Halles followed your letter exactly?”

Olga immediately switched back to Geron’s language.

“I didn’t know if Halles would believe my words. He’s a very suspicious man. But he was always fearful of my divinations and prophecies. I invoked the names of Raham and Krena to scare him. Seeing that I’m standing in this square on trial, it’s clear that Halles did his part.”

Without passing through Jedrick, Olga switched back to the southern language.

“Now you understand, don’t you? I didn’t predict you, Prince. I predicted ‘the Conqueror.’ The person I had in mind was General Terdin.”

Even the always-composed General Terdin widened his eyes in shock.

“But the one who arrived as the Conqueror turned out to be Prince Damion. To me, the two of you were no different.”

Olga ignored Miela and Ikarum, continuing in the southern language.

“That made things easier. Luring General Terdin to Iktaron’s temple would have been nearly impossible. But you and the princess? You listened to me so well. You have no idea how surprised I was when you willingly came to my house. Everything fell into place so perfectly! In a situation where calling you might have seemed suspicious, you just walked right into my hands.”

Damion asked,

“Then that night, did you cast no spells at all?”

“None. The tea I prepared was genuinely good for your health, and for Jedrick, I added herbs for his cold. If I had known the princess would come too, I would have prepared some beneficial herbs for women as well. Not that she would have drunk it anyway.”

“But we all had dreams! We all had nightmares after meeting you!”

“That was strange indeed. It’s true that I used a suggestion—but it wasn’t magic. It was scent.”

“Scent?”

“Do you remember the floral fragrance in my room? You probably mistook it for the scent of the tea. It induces slight hallucinations—not anything extreme. It simply makes you feel pleasant, warm, and a bit more…”

A smile formed on Olga’s lips.

To some, it might have seemed eerie with blood smeared across her face.

But to Jedrick, she simply looked like the beautiful sorceress he had met two nights ago.

“…honest. Sometimes, it can make people dream. Quite often, actually. But inducing the same nightmare in four people at once? That, I’ve never tried. If all of you had nightmares simultaneously, it’s likely because the darkness inside your own hearts was strong. That darkness is the nightmare.”

What she said next struck not only Damion but also Jedrick like a punch.

“You will continue to dream that nightmare for the rest of your lives.”

Damion was gasping for breath, drenched in cold sweat.

Jedrick wanted to tell her to stop.

Behind him, even Terdin placed a hand on the prince’s shoulder to calm him.

But Damion couldn’t hold back and shouted,

“Were all of your prophecies true?”

Olga laughed and shook her head.

"Your Highness, that is the one question you must never ask about a prophecy. Whether my prophecy is true or not, the moment you ask that question, you deny the prophecy. And in denying it, you begin to obsess over it, and once you do, you draw in things that would never have happened otherwise. That is what prophecy is. If someone predicts your death, you will constantly bring up death in an effort to deny it, and in the end, death will follow. Speak of a curse, and the curse will come. My prophecies inevitably bring death and curses with them."

[Translator - Night]

[Proofreader - Gun]

Olga continued speaking in the same tone she had used two nights ago when she had offered him a teacup, like a teacher instructing a student.

"So, do not ask about the prophecy. Your Highness has already been drawn in too deeply."

As Olga's calm words ended, Damion let out a weary sigh and collapsed into a chair.

Only then did Jedrick realize that Damion had been standing in an awkward posture, neither fully standing nor fully sitting.

'Damion is being drawn in as if bewitched. Olga may claim she hasn’t used magic, but if this isn’t magic, then what is? Most of the people here probably don’t even understand why Damion is so agitated.'

Miela shouted,

"Enough, Hag Olga. The one interrogating you is not the Conqueror, but me."

Olga looked up at Miela with a relaxed smile, as if suggesting, Then go ahead.

At that moment, the confidence vanished from Miela's face.

"Tell me why you did this, Hag!"

"What else? Revenge."

"It was revenge for Adian Mantum, wasn't it?"

"You understand, don’t you? As Adian's wife, you should be burning with the same desire for vengeance."

"Do you expect me to sympathize? Before I was Adian's wife, I was also Ehodin's wife. I grieve my husband's death, but I have a duty to protect the village he left behind. I abandoned petty revenge long ago."

Miela turned to the villagers and shouted,

"Look, Elum! The Hag's foolish thirst for revenge nearly brought disaster upon this village! I will burn her at the stake to quell the Conqueror's wrath and save our village. Her crimes are as follows: communicating with the outside while imprisoned, summoning the enemy through that communication, attempting to have the Conqueror assassinated by the enemy, thereby endangering our village, and obstructing our peace with the Conqueror! Any one or two of these alone would warrant execution, yet she has committed them all. Do you deny any of these charges?"

"You’re giving me a chance to speak? What do you think I will say?"

Olga sneered as she asked.

Miela glared and raised a hand toward Olga.

"I revoke the right of the accused to a final statement. The vote shall begin—"

"Stop!"

Damion, who had been receiving Jedrick’s translations and was slightly delayed in processing the situation, shouted.

"I will allow the accused to make a final statement."

Damion rose from his chair and raised his voice.

Jedrick had no choice but to shout alongside him.

"If she denies her guilt, we must hear why. If she admits it, she must beg for forgiveness. I must hear her words."

Damion spoke quickly, as if the vote might begin at any moment.

"Hag Olga, is there any falsehood in your confession? If there is anything unjust about this trial, speak now."

Olga replied nonchalantly.

"There is nothing unjust. This is just another of the usual public square trials. Most of what I said is true."

"Most? Does that mean some of it isn’t?"

"Dulam’s confession earlier contained falsehoods."

Jedrick wasn’t sure which part he should translate.

But Miela, who understood some of the southern tongue, flinched in shock.

"Which part was false?"

"He said the medicine he received from me was meant to strengthen a man, but in reality, it was medicine to treat his mother."

"Dulam’s mother?"

"Yes. Dulam’s mother has had worsening lung problems, coughing severely and sometimes spitting blood. But when she took the medicine I made, her coughing subsided. However, after I was imprisoned and she could no longer take it, her condition worsened again."

"Then why did Dulam lie about it?"

"He thought that if he admitted the truth, the medicine I gave him would be confiscated. So he made up a different story. I don’t make medicine to strengthen men."

Olga chuckled as if making a joke.

But Damion took her seriously and asked gravely,

"Anything else?"

"I never intended to kill Your Highness."

"Then did you plan to kill General Terdin?"

"I thought it wouldn’t matter if someone like Terdin died. So I set things in motion. But then Your Highness appeared. That made me hesitate, so I cast a divination. That was my only prophecy in this affair. According to Rune, Your Highness and three others would not die. So I sent you all to the Iktaron shrine without worry."

"You knew… that we wouldn’t die?"

"You all must have sworn a blood oath not to harm each other, haven’t you?"

"That… is true."

"Have you found a way to avoid Tanu?"

At Olga’s words, the three of them froze in shock.

Olga smiled faintly, then stood up by herself.

"Do you still permit me to make my final statement?"

Damion barely managed to respond,

"I permit it."

Olga raised her voice in Geron tongue, addressing the entire village.

Her voice, which had seemed weak before, now rang out powerfully.

"I confess, Elum! I orchestrated this plan to burn this village to the ground. If the prince were to be thrown into death, the consequences would fall upon this village. Do you remember? You used Adian as a shield to start a war. You sent Ehodin into battle with no chance of victory. You pushed Adian into a war he didn’t want, making him fight in agony."

The villagers murmured uneasily, some even stepping back.

Olga continued shouting.

"Tagda planned to destroy Elum first when this war ended. That’s why Adian was made Mantum. He was given no troops, forced to fight alone. Do you wonder why I handed the Conqueror over to Tagda? Because then the first village the southern army would target would be Tagda! Even now, General Terdin, the southern god of war, is standing here in this square, watching this trial. And soon, he will crush Tagda!"

Olga laughed, her lips smeared with blood, forming a grotesque grin.

"I warned you, but you clung to your pathetic Geron pride. And yet, the moment Adian died, you surrendered? Where did that pride go? Why aren’t you fighting now? Look at these southerners, watching our trial like entertainment! Fight! Fight for your Geron pride! Spill blood! Stake your souls! Raham, grant these cowardly northern savages the courage to fight the southern civilized people! Krenas, give these cowards a vessel to collect their tears! Let me drink from that vessel before I depart to your side."

Olga burst into maniacal laughter.

It was the eerie, chilling laugh of a truly wicked witch.

For a moment, the square was filled with nothing but her laughter.

But it didn’t last long.

Using up her final strength, she collapsed back to the ground, lying almost face down.

"Burn her!"

No one knew who shouted it first.

"Burn the Hag!"

The villagers cried out in unison.

"Burn the Hag!"

"Burn her!"

"Burn her!"

Miela seized the moment and proclaimed,

"We shall vote. All in favor of burning Hag Olga, raise your hands!"

It was obvious.

Unlike before, when there had been some hesitation, this time hands shot up even before Miela finished speaking.

The entire village raised their hands. Some southern soldiers and knights even joined in mockingly.

"Prepare the pyre at once!"

Ikarum shouted.

Damion cried out.

"Stop! I still have questions for Olga!"

The villagers pushed forward as if they wanted to execute her themselves.

The square erupted in shouting, curses, and chaos.

Southern soldiers yelled at the crowd to stop, while royal knights moved to protect Damion.

"Your Highness, step back!"

"No! We cannot execute Olga!"

Jedrick was already being pushed too far away to reach the prince.

Amidst the turmoil, a faint voice called out,

"Charlon."

It was Rusef.

He was stuck outside the crowd, unable to enter the square.

And then, in the midst of the chaos, a woman in white emerged, drifting through the panicked villagers like a ghost.

It was Charlon.

[Translator - Night]

[Proofreader - Gun]