Chapter 87: Chapter 87: Innocence or Guilt?
Ahheman was overreacting.
His plan to release the antidote after completing the ritual, heal everyone, and become the hero of Balak had been thwarted from the start.
He had hoped to earn everyone's admiration, but it hadn't worked out that way.
Most of Balak's warriors looked at him with disdain.
"...?"
However, he was still puzzled.
He didn't understand why the Red Passing had been cured, but should he receive such hostile looks because the shaman's ritual hadn't worked?
It didn't help, though, as the reactions were too cold for that.
But.
Ahheman's questions were answered by Aquila's next words.
"No part of that is necessary. I want to see what's in that sack at your waist."
In an instant, his heart sank.
Ahheman barely held onto his sanity, which was slipping away.
What could it ever be? How could the chief want to see the sack at his waist, and right now?
It's impossible to say unless you know something.
"... ... Did you try to notice?"
As the one responsible for spreading the red death in the waters, it was bound to churn his stomach.
Approaching Ahheman, Aquila questioned him further.
"What's wrong with you? Get that sack away from me."
The chief's command is absolute. Once the order is given, there is no appeal.
However, the old shaman was so agitated that he defied the chief's order.
"I can't show you this, I can't show you this!"
He was so agitated that he didn't know what to do.
However, the consequences were weighty.
Before he could finish, the faces of all the warriors hardened.
The younger fighters groaned and shook their heads, and the older ones scowled.
The warriors' respect and loyalty to their tribal leader ran deep, regardless of age, so there was no way that Ahheman could look good.
"He's a traitor, and I will take action to make him pay!"
An agitated Aiyen stepped forward.
"Open that sack at once!"
Someone stepped forward before her.
Ahun. Ahman's grandson, he was quick to step forward and open his palm before Ahheman.
While Aiyen stood stunned by the unexpected sight, Ahun went to Ahheman and spoke firmly.
"There can be no disobedience to the tribal leader's command, and if you don't open that sack right away... ... ."
Ahun said, pulling an arrow from his belt and nocking it.
Then, Ahheman's thick eyebrows shot up.
"You scoundrel!"
"...."
But Ahun's eyes never wavered.
Something must have changed within him as he watched helplessly as his sister Ahul died from the Red Demise.
Soon, many of the warriors were shouting at Ahheman.
"Give us the sack now!"
"Show us what's inside!"
"You deceiver, that's no joke!"
As the accusations poured forth, Ahheman grew more and more desperate.
Then.
"Come on, look! Look what's inside!"
He grabbed the sack from his belt.
Then he flung it into the stream that flowed alongside the fire.
Many of the warriors paused.
A eerie silence.
Ahheman looked back at Aquila with a triumphant smile.
"Oops! This old man had a tremor, so he dropped his sack into the stream... ... ?"
He stammered out an excuse, then stopped.
Something was about to go wrong.
As if on cue, the warriors murmured among themselves and looked aside.
There was Vikir, arms crossed and mouth shut.
Aquila looked back at him and said.
"Well. You were right. You really are throwing the sack into the river."
"...what?"
Ahhman opened his mouth in disbelief.
Suddenly.
"Boss, I found it!"
Suddenly, someone's head pops up from the surface of the river.
A Balak warrior, who had been lurking in the water earlier, quickly scoops up the leather sack that Ahheman had discarded.
The sack, though waterlogged, was still half full.
"Huh! No!"
Ahheman jerked, but the sack was already soaked by the time it reached Aquila's hand.
"...."
Aquila looked into the sack.
It was half-floating in the water, but full of white powder.
Aquila turned to Ahheman.
"This is the antidote for the Red Passing."
"...."
"Why is this coming out of your hand?"
Ahheman mouthed the words, but didn't answer.
Again, Aquila nodded.
"Yes. You were right again."
This time, she looked back at Bikir.
When Ahheman shook his head, Aquila threw the white powder on the ground.
"It's just flour, it's useless."
"What!"
"I told you that you would mistake this for a remedy, and by the look of your surprise, I'm correct."
Ahheman's demeanor turned to disbelief as he realized that the powder he's holding is just flour.
"That can't be right, that must be the remedy... ... ."
"You have been deceived by the Leviathan family."
Vikir stated, stepping forward.
The Leviathans had used a gullible local spy to spread the plague without a cure.
I saw through his power-hungry and ambitious schemes.
The mood of the warriors became solemn as everything Vikir had said earlier came true.
Ahheman made a desperate plea.
"I, I don't know, it's just flour, just like he said!"
"Why did you hesitate earlier when I asked you to show me the sack, and why did you come to this water source where the Red Demise originally started?"
"Calm down, why would I tell you that!"
Vikir demanded, and Ahheman felt a lump in his throat.
But the situation won't get any easier for him.
The situation was not in his favor, but because Vikir provided much more incriminating evidence.
From Vikir's arms came two letters.
There were two handwriting styles on them, one in terrible cursive and unrecognizable, the other in a fairly neat typeface.
Vikir opened his mouth to speak.
"These are the letters between the Leviathans and you."
The evidence was compelling.
One of the two letters was unmistakably written in Ahheman's handwriting.
The eyes of all the warriors shifted back and forth between the letters and Ahheman.
Ahheman yelled in frustration.
"It's absolutely false! I never wrote that letter!"
But no one believed him.
Several old elders confirmed that the handwriting on the letter was indeed Ahheman's.
"Aaahhhhhhh! It's true! I'm innocent! He's framing me!"
A frantic Ahheman pointed at Vikir and jumped up and down.
But Vikir, the target of the scolding, just laughed quietly to himself.
Because the accusation is true.
"And I'm right here, thanks to my mentor."
Vikir recalls an incident from years ago.
'Mr. Mentor writes very well.'
'Nothing. Since I was born, I haven't seen anyone who handles handwriting better than me. Every time the archons ask me to sign it, so I'm good at imitating others' handwriting... ... .'
'Might I ever learn to do that?
'Of course I can teach you, it would be my pleasure!
'Thank you. Then I'll ask you whenever have time and energy.'
It was rewarding to learn the art of handwriting forged from him all the time when I was a deputy magistrate in Dark Horse City.
It was a skill that would come in handy when it came to propaganda.
'Initially, disturbance is easy and clarification is difficult.'
Vikir stared at Ahheman, who was truly pacing in frustration.
Meanwhile, Aquila called out.
"It would be best for us to see if anyone in the Leviathan family has this handwriting."
But that would be a daunting task. Investigating one of the seven great houses of the Empire would be impossible.
So, naturally, the mood within Balak shifted towards condemning Ahheman.
"Traitor!"
"You nearly destroyed my family!"
"And my children!"
"Kill him, hang him!"
Public opinion was turning badly.
Even Ahun, his grandson, was treating him with chilling disdain, and there wasn't a single person here who was on his side.
Ahheman gritted his teeth.
But there was no evidence.
If the white powder in the sack turned out to be just flour, it was futile to execute him if he insisted on denying it to the end.
Waiting, albeit grim and harmful, was the only way to stay alive.
"... ... Enough, everyone, you're going overboard."
That was the mood before Boss Aquila opened his mouth.
Every warrior turned to look at him. Ahheman did the same.
Aquila coughed a few times before speaking.
"If you look closely, there is no evidence. Everyone, I hope this will no longer tarnish the shaman's reputation. Isn't he a community worker who has been devoted to the tribe for so long."
Then there was a murmur from all around.
Aiyen cried out in jubilation.
"Mother, no, Boss, do you mean to tell me that you will sweep this under the rug... ... ?"
"Enough! Respect the shaman's position! He has far more years of experience and dedication to the tribe than you do! Be polite!"
At Aquila's stern words, Aiyen clamped her mouth shut.
Many of the warriors looked displeased, but the tribal leader's words were final, and none of them spoke up.
Ahheman, the one being shielded, looked puzzled.
How could the tribal leader, who had so much disdain for him, side with him now?
But since this was the only way out, he could bow low to Aquila.
"I must be grateful for your kindness and wisdom."
"It's nothing. It is just natural if you honor the traditions of your ancestors."
Ahheman nodded, as if impressed.
But suddenly, Aquila's eyes gleamed deeply.
"How can you allow young things who know nothing to tarnish your truly illustrious reputation?"
"Yes, thank you, Boss."
"You have nothing to thank me for. You have a reputation to uphold, not only in our tribe, but in the entire Depths."
"Yes. What...."
"The honor and pride you carry on your shoulders must be very heavy, Cancer."
"Yeah...?"
"So today, you were framed for something without evidence, so the wounds in your heart must be very deep. No wonder. Because that supreme pride has been hurt."
"...?"
Ahheman felt a bit uncomfortable at the thick layer of flattery.
As if on cue, Aquila turned to face him.
"I'm going to give my friend of many years, my esteemed colleague, the profound teacher of all the young men gathered here, the precious opportunity to defend his integrity, his honor, his pride! Do any of you have any objections!"
"None ah-!"
Every person who had guessed Aquila's intentions shouted out at once.
Vikir, who had heard everything before, stepped forward with a calm expression.
"...?"
Ahheman staggered backwards as Vikir stepped in front of him.
He looked like he didn't know what was happening.
Finally, Aquila spoke firmly to him.
"If you are truly innocent, use this opportunity to defend the honor and pride you have earned. After all I've done for you, you would throw it away from me, wouldn't you?"
" ... ... And you call it an opportunity?"
Anxiety flickered in Ahheman's eyes as he asked cautiously.
Then, Aquila spoke.
"I decree the Illiad."
The Illiad was Balak's special method of resolving disputes, using combat to settle the conflict in the winner's favor.
The color drained from Ahheman's face as he heard this.
Vikir, on the other hand, laughed quietly to himself.
Proof, evidence, it didn't quite matter.
It was all paving the way for this game.
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