Chapter 19. All Gathered (2016.03.07)
The beginning of the nightmare was always the same.
Ilsia was a very small child. Young Ilsia looked around in fear, calling out desperately for her parents in a trembling voice.
—Mother… Father…
In the midst of complete darkness, flames suddenly surged up. The crimson fire roared brightly before dying down. Yet even as it diminished, the flames spread in all directions.
As the surroundings brightened, large dark figures became visible. They were voraciously devouring something.
The sound of flesh being torn and bones being crushed echoed loudly with wet, crunching noises. What they were consuming—licking up every last drop of blood that dripped away—was…
Ilsia’s mother and father.
—Ugh… ughh… ngh…
The small, insignificant child could not even scream properly, nor could she do anything. Even as she witnessed her parents being torn apart alive before her eyes, she could only watch helplessly.
Ilsia locked eyes with her mother. She was still alive. Her mother silently mouthed words toward her.
Run.
She was telling her to run.
A bloodstained crown rolled to a stop at Ilsia’s feet, bumping against them. Damp blood spread across the ground at her feet.
She wished she could at least faint, but her mind was clearer than ever, taking in everything without missing a single detail.
The dark figures were not satisfied with devouring her mother and father alone. They began crawling toward Ilsia.
—Devaris! Devaris!
—If you mate with a Devaris, you’ll gain immortality!
—If you consume a Devaris, you can live forever!
Their voices rang and echoed in her ears, while their raw, overflowing greed seeped into her like something tangible. Dozens, hundreds of hands began clinging to Ilsia.
—Eat her!
—Devour her!!
—Kill her!!!
She wanted to run with all her strength, but her legs would not move, as if turned to stone. Fear pressed down on her entire body.
I can’t run. I’ll die. I’m going to die here.
Faced with the horrific future looming before her, Ilsia quietly closed her eyes. Just as she had given up on everything, right when the rough hands were about to reach her—
Black smoke began to seep out from somewhere.
The smoke moved smoothly, wrapping around Ilsia once before spreading outward in all directions.
Wherever the smoke touched, the dark figures shattered into pieces. As the smoke danced, the flames were extinguished and the shadows vanished.
When only complete darkness remained—
A deep, languid voice echoed near her ear.
“Ilsia.”
Glowing red eyes looked at her. In those crimson eyes shining even within the darkness, Ilsia burst into tears she had been holding back.
And she called his name.
—…
“Hashar…!!”
Ilsia woke up screaming. Her entire body was drenched in cold sweat, and tears streamed down her face.
“Ugh… sob… Hashar… Hashar…”
With a trembling voice, she repeated his name, as if it were a magic spell that could protect her.
And someone was watching her as she called out to Hashar.
“…My lady.”
Shukri called her softly.
Ilsia looked at him through tear-filled eyes. Her unfocused, vacant gaze made Shukri close his eyes briefly before opening them again. He then wiped her face with the cloth he always kept by the bed.
Ilsia gradually regained her senses. Soon, fully composed again, she lowered her head.
“…”
Without a word, Shukri embraced her.
Ilsia often had nightmares like this. She had never once explained what kind of dream she saw, but the fragmented words she uttered during her distress made it easy to guess.
‘That day… eight years ago.’
In front of the Decarim, Ilsia always showed a bright face, but she too had never escaped the nightmare from eight years ago.
Whenever she thrashed in her nightmares, Shukri would rush to her side and soothe her.
However, recently, the pattern of her nightmares had begun to change. She still suffered in the same way within the dream, but at the end, she would wake up calling Hashar’s name.
“Are you alright?”
“Ah… yes, I’m fine now. I must have woken you again. I’m sorry.”
Ilsia apologized with a pale face, but Shukri barely heard her.
“…You called Hashar’s name again.”
“…Did I?”
“Yes.”
“I see…”
Shukri clenched his molars subtly. Though he outwardly maintained composure, watching Ilsia call out to Hashar with such heartfelt emotion was deeply painful.
Shukri disliked Hashar. Ever since that unruly man had entered their lives, the peaceful daily routine had been disrupted.
He had served Ilsia for a long time. He knew everything about her—what she liked and disliked, when she smiled, and when she frowned.
So he could not fail to notice the changes in her.
Whenever Ilsia became entangled with Hashar, she would waver drastically. The composed and rational woman would become like a child, acting emotionally.
And watching her be shaken by someone else from the side was deeply unpleasant.
‘I want to be the most important person.’
Just as he himself did, Shukri wanted Ilsia to place him first. Or at least prioritize the Decarim.
He knew well that it was a petty jealousy. But emotions could not be controlled at will, nor could he reveal such feelings.
Suppressing his emotions, Shukri said,
“You don’t have to push yourself to go to Talamakan today.”
“No. The operation wouldn’t succeed without me in the first place.”
Ilsia, her eyes still slightly red from crying, smiled brightly at him.
“Go back and sleep. If we’re going to Talamakan today, we need to rest as much as possible.”
“…Understood.”
Shukri quietly withdrew again. However, he did not go far, instead sitting down in front of Ilsia’s bedroom door. He intended to wait until she fell completely asleep, listening to her steady breathing.
“…”
Shukri let out a long sigh.
It was a night without sleep.
Ahad Salaym had a remarkably beautiful appearance. Brilliant golden hair, light brown skin, and jewel-like blue eyes.
Women of the desert, unlike the burly men, greatly favored Ahad’s slender, handsome looks.
The desert men gossiped behind his back, saying he looked like a woman, but none had the courage to say it to his face. That was because of his wealth.
His storerooms, said to be able to sustain a festival across the entire Alshatra Empire for a week without running dry, granted Ahad power greater than any emir.
Ahad loved money, and he knew how to make it. If asked what mattered most in life, he would answer without hesitation: money. In short, he was a man who could sell even God for money.
However, even Ahad had someone he could not easily deal with.
“May the light and grace of Ahalah be upon you.”
It was none other than the Pope of the Ahalah Church, Caliph. After offering a blessing in a benevolent voice, Caliph seated himself on the reception room sofa as if it were his own home.
“I hear a Devaris will be auctioned today.”
To Caliph, who immediately got to the point, Ahad responded respectfully.
“Yes. I have already informed the slave traders. I will ensure that Your Holiness secures the winning bid.”
The place where Caliph was currently staying was Ahad’s mansion.
Ahad, who had previously conspired with him to assassinate Hashar during a banquet, had readily accepted Caliph’s request to stay at his residence after he left the palace.
Of course, Ahad did so because it benefited him as well. Hosting Caliph allowed him to build a closer relationship with him.
Moreover, since Caliph’s arrival, the Ahalah Church had funneled its supply procurement for the Caliphate through Ahad. Thanks to this, Ahad had been making steady profits selling goods to the Caliphate.
In many ways, it was all beneficial to Ahad—but for some reason, he did not feel happy about the incoming money.
“Feel free to name your price. As long as you win the bid, I will handle the payment afterward.”
“Your consideration is most appreciated.”
“Not at all. Is there anything else you require?”
At the polite inquiry, Caliph smiled gracefully and made another request.
“I would like to personally observe the auction in Talamakan. Would that be possible?”
The reason Ahad was not pleased despite the profits was likely because this Caliph was such an irritating person.
You cannot spit on a smiling face… Forcing his stiff expression into a smile, Ahad managed to respond.
“Of course. I will inform Talamakan. You will not be attending as the Caliph, but rather as my representative.”
“Then I shall leave it in your care.”
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, the two drank tea in silence for a while.
While sipping tea, Ahad occasionally glanced at Caliph. The way Caliph calmly enjoyed his tea was exceedingly refined. His kind features alone seemed to purify the heart.
Even knowing that his outward appearance and inner nature were completely different, Ahad still found himself momentarily deceived by his looks.
And yet… why would the Pope of Ahalah, who emphasized mercy and asceticism, show such strong interest in a Devaris…?
No matter how much he thought about it, Caliph did not seem like someone who would drink Devaris blood or tear at its flesh—so what exactly did he intend to do with such an expensive item?
Once suspicion began, it never ended. But Ahad did not dare to ask further.
‘I don’t want to receive Caliph’s prayers.’
He knew well that wherever Caliph directed his prayers, death would follow. And this prayer was intended for Hashar.
Well, whether Caliph killed someone or not had nothing to do with him. Ahad simply hoped that Hashar would be properly dealt with.
Alsned was inwardly impressed.
Was it animal instinct? Hashar had something like that.
Whenever he set his sights on something, he would charge forward without hesitation, and in the process, he sometimes displayed remarkable insight.
And once again, that insight proved correct. He had uncovered information that would have been missed had attention been focused only on the Decarim.
“As Your Majesty predicted, there has been movement around Talamakan.”
Although it was late at night, Hashar, who had not yet gone to sleep and was lounging on his bed, smirked.
“I expected as much. Report.”
Alsned cleared his throat a few times. What he was about to report would greatly—and very greatly—displease Hashar.
“…It seems that an item has been submitted under the name of Decarim to participate in the auction.”
“Hm, clever.”
Hashar murmured to himself, as if praising someone.
“And that item is…”
Alsned hesitated and glanced at Hashar. As Hashar narrowed his eyes at his hesitation, Alsned finally blurted it out.
“It appears to be Lady Ilsia.”
“….”
Hashar said nothing. After a moment of silent composure, he spoke briefly.
“Say that again.”
Alsned, clutching his anxious heart, delivered a more detailed report.
“It seems Lady Ilsia herself has been submitted. Rumors are already circulating among slave traders and high-ranking nobles that Decarim will be putting a pale-skinned female slave up for auction.”
“…Ha.”
Hashar exhaled sharply. His previously languid red eyes began to burn intensely.
Black smoke began to creep out, and Alsned felt cold sweat run down his back.
Hashar said in a low, heavy voice,
“Are the Decarim a group of incompetent men? Leaving dozens of capable men aside and sending that fragile girl on a mission.”
“….”
Unable to affirm or deny, Alsned remained silent, watching Hashar’s reaction. He wondered if the bedroom would be destroyed right then and there.
Yet strangely, the black smoke only swelled menacingly—it did not move.
Alsned knew Hashar was not a man of such restraint. He looked at him in surprise.
To his astonishment, Hashar was gradually calming his anger.
Truly, one sees many things in life. Alsned stared at him in disbelief as Hashar spoke.
“Tonight is the auction, is it not?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Clear my schedule.”
“Your Majesty!”
Alsned shouted, forgetting his fear. Standing before Hashar, who clearly intended to prevent him from going to Talamakan, Hashar replied lazily,
“Did I not say? I am going to observe.”
However, if something were to happen, he would intervene. Knowing he could not stop him, Alsned quickly thought and said,
“Please take me with you.”
He intended to accompany him to prevent anything too severe from happening. Expecting to be refused several times, he was surprised when Hashar agreed immediately.
“Do as you wish.”
But as Hashar lay back on the bed and added a remark, Alsned began to feel uneasy.
“However… do not regret it.”
Had he simply refused, he might not have felt this uneasy.
Please, let nothing happen. May Lady Ilsia return safely, unharmed, and secure only the Devaris.
Alsned, after a long time, found himself earnestly praying.
There were mountains of preparations required to enter Talamakan’s auction house, yet the time allowed was too short. Both Shukri and Ilsia had to move busily.
Shukri contacted Talamakan under the name of Decarim and divided potential scenarios at the auction into multiple contingency plans.
Among his tasks was organizing and preparing all Decarim members he could currently mobilize.
Ideally, he would have liked to mobilize all Decarim as before. However, that was unrealistic, and Ilsia’s involvement had not yet been disclosed to them.
If they learned that she would be participating, none of them would remain calm like Shukri. Everyone would insist on accompanying her, and the entire Decarim operation would come to a halt.
To prevent such chaos, Shukri gathered only the available personnel, and only revealed the mission just before departing for Talamakan.
And finally, the day of the auction arrived.
“Are you ready?”
Shukri asked while looking at Ilsia. She nodded slightly.
Ilsia was wrapped entirely in long cloth and wore a translucent veil over her face. Though fully covered, her refined features and pale skin were faintly visible beneath the veil.
Manacles were fastened around her wrists. The cuffs, made of silk and leather, would not injure her skin even when worn for long periods.
‘Uncomfortable…’
Ilsia frowned slightly, just enough to avoid drawing attention. She was accustomed to covering herself completely, but the handcuffs were the issue.
For assassins, hands were among the most vital parts of the body.
Since their livelihood depended on swift hand movements to take lives, they kept their hands finely tuned and ready at all times. Restricting them made her feel as though her entire body were bound.
Ilsia flexed her fingers slightly and sighed inwardly. She hadn’t expected things to be this difficult from the start. But she had chosen to become a slave herself—there was no room to complain.
Ilsia steeled her resolve. She would definitely retrieve the Devaris.
Lifting her head with determination, she commanded,
“Let’s go.”
However, there was one thing she did not know.
That everyone was gathering at Talamakan’s auction house.
Devaris, slave traders, Hashar—and… Caliph as well.
