The Mad Dog of the Duke's Estate-Chapter 155. This Place is a Mess Too (1)

It was a land full of sand, where the sun blazed mercilessly from above.

"If I hadn't come prepared, I'd be dead by now," Caron muttered. That was his first thought on the desert of the Pajar Sultanate.

It was, without a doubt, a hellish place.

The desert stretched endlessly, disorienting enough to strip anyone of their sense of direction. Mirages danced on the horizon, while the harsh glare of the sun burned so fiercely it seemed to stab straight into his eyes.

It was a brutal, unforgiving landscape.

Caron swallowed and took a sip of water from a hydration device he had brought from the Magic Tower. After wiping his lips with his sleeve, he muttered, "No wonder these sand-dwellers have such rotten tempers."

The very fact that people lived here seemed absurd. Visiting the Pajar Sultanate firsthand made him realize just how inhospitable it was. He had been here in his previous life a few times, but it had never felt quite this unbearable. Perhaps it was his imagination, but it felt hotter than ever.

Just as Caron was quenching his thirst, a feeble whimper came from in front of him.

"Woof... Woof..."

It was Bakal, now downgraded to the role of a desert guide dog.

"What? You want water too?" Caron asked.

"Woof..." Bakal barked weakly.

Unlike Caron, who remained relatively fresh and composed, Bakal was in terrible shape. His lips were cracked and parched, and his eyes had lost focus. He looked as if he could drop dead at any moment.

"Here, drink it," Caron said as he tossed a water pouch toward the man.

Bakal caught it, bowing his head repeatedly in gratitude before cautiously taking a single sip. He sipped slowly, savoring the precious moisture before bowing again and returning the pouch.

"Woof..." Bakal barked.

"It seems you have some desert experience," Caron noted, smirking.

Drinking water too quickly would have given the man indigestion. Caron chuckled faintly as he watched Bakal only moisten his lips, thinking, He's quite a useful guy.

It had been two days since they had illegally crossed into the Pajar Sultanate. Though the desert could easily have swallowed them up, Bakal's guidance had kept them moving steadily so far.

"Continue the conversation we had yesterday," Caron instructed.

"Woof..."

"You can speak normally. Ten minutes of human speech allowed," Caron said.

This content is taken from fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm.

"...What would you like to know?" Bakal asked.

Perhaps it was because Bakal had been a smuggler, but he seemed to know everything about the region—especially the political situation in the Pajar Sultanate.

"I heard that there's been chaos over the succession here, isn't that right? Let's start with that," Caron said.

"Yes, as I mentioned yesterday..."

According to Bakal, the Pajar Sultanate was in a state of turmoil, all of which had started just two months ago.

"Crown Prince Clark has been bedridden since falling ill," Bakal said.

"That much I heard from the empire," Caron said.

"At first, it seemed like a simple illness, but rumors say that poison was involved. And that it was deliberately administered by someone close to him," Bakal explained.

Crown Prince Clark was said to be a figure widely supported by many. He was a successor loved not only by his servants, but also by the people of the Pajar Sultanate. It was to the extent that no one had doubted he would become the next Sultan.

But now, he lay comatose, poisoned and unable to wake for two months. Naturally, this had thrown the entire line of succession into disarray.

"Let's sum this up. So, the Fourth Prince is running himself ragged trying to wake the Crown Prince, while the Second and Third Princes are teaming up to seize the throne. Right?" Caron asked.

"For now... That is correct," Bakal confirmed.

"Struggles for power are the same everywhere. This place is a mess too, huh?" Caron remarked.

To be honest, it wasn't a matter of great concern for him. In fact, it could even be considered an advantage.

I guess it'll make moving around easier, Caron thought.

The chaotic atmosphere was perfect for carrying out covert missions. However, there was one major problem. He needed to find spring water from the Sultanate's sacred Ali Oasis, which was essential to revive the World Tree. In order to retrieve it, Caron needed access to the oasis, and that was the biggest obstacle.

"So, you were saying that it's impossible to enter the Ali Oasis without royal permission?" Caron asked.

"Yes, that's right," Bakal confirmed with a nod. "The Ali Oasis is practically the most sacred place in the Pajar Sultanate. Until recently, pilgrims were allowed in, but since the Crown Prince fell ill, the royal family has sealed it off."

"Why on earth would they do that?" Caron asked.

"The royal sorcerers claim the sacred site must be purified to heal the prince's condition—" Bakal explained.

"Ah, cultists. Always making things worse," Caron interrupted.

This threw a massive wrench into his plans. Without access to the Ali Oasis, he couldn't fulfill the elves' request. He needed a new approach.

"What about sneaking in?" Caron asked.

"That would be nearly impossible. The entire oasis is warded with sorcery. The moment you set foot inside, you'd be detected. But... Is there a reason you absolutely must go there?" Bakal, regaining his composure, asked the question with a sharp, probing gaze.

Caron stuck a finger in his ear with a bored expression before smacking Bakal's head.

Smack!

"I ask the questions here," Caron said.

"Sorry! I apologize! I wasn't thinking..." Bakal said.

"If I absolutely had to get into the Ali Oasis, how would I do it?" Caron asked.

Bakal went silent, deep in thought. He had to come up with an answer. His life literally depended on it. He thought, I can't die here like this!

Desperation made the mind work wonders.

"...If it were me, I'd secure royal permission," Bakal said.

"Try saying something useful," Caron said.

"I-I mean it, it's possible!" Bakal replied. His eyes burned with urgency as he hurriedly continued. "Our destination, Akhba, is a city governed directly by the Fourth Prince. If you can gain his favor, he might grant permission..."

"And how do I get his permission?" Caron asked.

"Well... I'm not sure exactly how—" Bakal said, but was interrupted.

Smack!

Caron hit Bakal again, clicking his tongue in irritation.

While the latter's answer lacked detail, the general idea had merit.

I can't just stand around twiddling my thumbs, Caron thought.

The Fourth Prince was aligned with the Crown Prince's faction. Whether persuasion would work remained uncertain, but it was the only lead for now. He'd need to figure out the details later.

"There... Over there... I see it," Bakal whispered, pointing ahead.

Caron squinted into the distance, where he saw a city.

"I'll admit it—you're a decent guide dog," Caron said.

"Th-Thank—" Bakal said.

"Now, stay quiet until I call for you again," Caron said.

"Wait, wha—"

Whoosh!

A glow emanated from Caron's pouch of dimensional space, sucking Bakal inside before he could finish his sentence.

With his guide safely stowed away, Caron smirked as he gazed toward Akhba, the desert city that loomed ahead.

"Finally, something interesting," he muttered.

It was the first city he had encountered since crossing into the Pajar Sultanate. The anticipation stirred a spark of excitement within him.

With mana coursing through his legs, Caron surged forward, sprinting toward the city with a swift and eager stride.

***

Akhba was the busiest city in the eastern region of the Pajar Sultanate. It was even larger than Caron had expected, living up to its reputation as the heart of the east.

"Fresh dates! Get your fresh dates at a bargain!"

"Come, take a look at my goods! We've got plenty of new wares today!"

The marketplace was bustling with activity.

While Akhba couldn't quite rival the cities of the empire, it had a surprisingly large population. The citizens, dressed in white garments and turbans, clearly marked this as Pajar Sultanate territory.

"Getting in was easier than expected," Caron murmured, surveying the streets.

The entrance was heavily guarded, but with Pluto's help, he had managed to slip through without much difficulty.

The first place Caron visited after infiltrating the city was a tavern.

Creak.

The door swung open, releasing a flood of lively voices into the air.

"Hahaha! I nearly got killed on my last trade route. Would you believe we ran into bandits?"

"Bandits? How did you manage to survive that?"

"Pure luck! Just as we were about to be busted, the Akhba patrol arrived!"

Caron listened idly as he found a seat at a corner table. Though the Pajar Sultanate spoke a completely different language, Pajarish, he understood their words perfectly.

I'm glad I raided the Magic Tower before coming here, Caron thought.

The enchanted translation artifact he had snatched worked like a charm. It was in the form of earrings, so it was also convenient.

A girl who looked no older than fifteen approached and asked, "Would you like to order something?"

Caron nodded, then said, "Food and drink. Whatever's available."

"Right away," the girl replied.

After placing his order, Caron casually tuned into the conversations around him. As with most taverns, the majority of the talk was trivial nonsense. But every now and then, useful scraps of information floated by.

"Have you heard? They sent a saint from the Holy Kingdom. Mahom at the checkpoint said he saw the Holy Kingdom's carriage himself!" a man said.

"The Holy Kingdom? Those zealots always call us heretics. What are they doing in Pajar?" another man asked.

"Didn't you hear the rumor? It's not poison that ails the Crown Prince, but something far darker. The Fourth Prince himself invited the saint," the first man explained.

"Maybe that rumor's true after all," the other man said.

Caron sipped the drink that had been served on his table; its sour aroma was unmistakable. It was a traditional Pajar liquor, sharp and tangy on the tongue.

The Holy Kingdom, huh... That's not exactly good news, he thought.

His relationship with the Holy Kingdom had been in tatters ever since a certain incident. He had personally dealt with the famed Holy Knight who was once hailed as the kingdom's future.

But not all of this news was bad. If the Fourth Prince had indeed invited someone from the Holy Kingdom...

"Owner, the Crown Prince might have been afflicted by dark mana, isn't that right?" Guillotine asked.

Exactly, Caron answered internally.

As the citizens said, the Crown Prince could have fallen victim to something malicious. If he had truly been exposed to dark mana, then this was an opportunity.

Dark mana is our specialty, after all. Isn't that so, Guillotine? Caron remarked in his mind.

"That too is an undeniable truth. When you think about the glorious title of 'Archdemon Sword' that this body carries—" Guillotine said, but was cut off.

Medical treatment to doctors, dark mana to the demon sword, Caron interrupted.

"...Yeah, fine, I'm a demon sword. It's honestly exhausting to argue about it anymore," Guillotine said.

There could be a way. If Caron could gain access to the Ali Oasis in exchange for helping treat the Crown Prince, it would solve his problem. However, one significant obstacle remained.

At the moment, anyone looking at Caron would see nothing more than a third-rate mercenary with no status or credentials. There was no way he could meet the Crown Prince under such circumstances.

"Hmmm," Caron sighed softly, then took a bite of the chicken dish he'd been served as a side. Coated in a red sauce and mixed with fragrant spices, it offered a flavor unlike anything found in the empire.

"It's... edible," he remarked. Although he found it tolerable, it didn't suit his taste.

"Hey," Caron said as he raised his hand, calling over the girl who had served him earlier.

She approached with a bright smile, asking, "Do you need something?"

"The bill," Caron answered as he pulled a silver coin from the Pajar Sultanate out of his pocket. It was one of the coins he had squeezed out of Bakal. He asked, "One silver should cover it, right?"

"It's much more than enough. I have to give you a lot of change..." the girl said.

"Keep the change. Just answer me one question. Where can I find the Fourth Prince?" Caron asked.

The bluntness of his question made the girl hesitate, her face shifting into an uneasy expression. She began, "I don't really know—"

But just then, a man from a nearby table, who had been listening in, slowly approached. He asked, "You're not from around here, are you?"

"No, I'm not," Caron admitted.

"Ah, I thought so. Well, you wouldn't know, then. Prince Samir is known for always listening to the voices of the people. Head to the public office in the central square. You can request an audience there," the man explained.

A prince who listened to his subjects... He sounded decent enough.

But Caron frowned when the man added with a chuckle, "Of course, with the current queue, it'll take you... oh, about three months."

"...Three months?" Caron asked.

"His Highness is a very busy man," the man said.

Caron shrugged, then said, "Then there's nothing I can do."

"Huh? You're giving up already?" the man asked.

"I don't have that much time," Caron replied. Three months was far too long.

"Anyway, thank you for the help," Caron said.

As Caron rose to leave, the girl stuttered, "Y-Your c-change—"

"Just keep it. The drink was good," Caron said. In truth, he simply couldn't be bothered to wait for the change.

Once outside, he stretched as he set his eyes on the fortress at the center of the city. Its towering walls loomed high, and the guards stationed along them looked particularly alert.

"What's the plan now?" Guillotine's voice echoed in his mind.

Caron's lips curved into a sly grin. He replied, "Is there a reason for us to overthink it?"

If a sharp mind made life easier, then a strong body worked just as well the other way around.

"When your body's strong, your mind can take a break," Caron said.

"...What are you planning to do?" Guillotine asked.

"What do you mean?" Caron replied as he pulled out a mask and slipped it over his face, his smile turning wicked as he continued, "I'm going over the wall."

"That's called breaking the law," Guillotine said.

"This isn't a crime. It's just... a nice burglary," Caron replied.

"You're insane," Guillotine said.

The Mad Dog had decided to become a burglar.