The Lord of the Rust Mountains

by Kanata Yanagino

  While casually exchanging words with him, I tutted internally. Now that I was attempting to have a proper conversation with the god of undeath, I could understand even more deeply how formidable he was. In terms of simple strength too, of course, but even more so in terms of his other aspects.

  This god could really speak. You could trade jokes and quips with him. If you told him your troubles, he would surely listen intently. He might even sympathize. He would try to work together with you to find a solution or guide you in the right direction with his godly powers. And he would be sincere the entire time.

  Yes, as frightening as it was, he was sincere. That was what made Stagnate an extremely dangerous god. Most likely, those ultimately taken in by his charms would voluntarily become undead, voluntarily rally under his flag, and voluntarily remain loyal to him. Gracefeel, who was the god I worshipped, had been ringing alarm bells inside my mind since the beginning of this conversation, desperately urging me not to get comfortable around him.

  “Your glib talk won’t work on me. What do you want?”

  “Ah, yes.”

  The raven batted his wings once as if to fix his appearance and faced me formally.

  “Champion who defeated me, paladin of the flame—”

  His oracular voice and gestures were fitting for one who proclaimed himself a god.

  “Accept my revelation.”

  At the moment he said it, a powerful image was thrust into my mind.

  The next thing I knew, I was in the dark in the bowels of the earth. The horribly thick darkness corrupted even my sense of distance. There was only one thing I could see in its depths: a single golden eye. A long, thin pupil stretched vertically down the eye as if it had been slightly torn apart. The enormous body stirred, and the sound of its scales grated harshly on my ears. I was looking up at it. I couldn’t move. I knew I had to fight, but my body wouldn’t move. Why? Why?

  I thought about it and realized. It was no wonder I couldn’t move. How could I move when my arms and legs had all been torn off?

  The faces of Mary, Blood, and Gus floated across my mind. I thought an apology to them. They had raised me for nothing.

  That’s when it snapped its fangs at me. It snapped them over and over, as if ridiculing its foolhardy, idiotic challenger. And then there was light. The toxic, burning breath stored inside its belly, a mass of incandescent heat, traveled from its belly up its throat and then, at the instant it lit up the dreadful face of the one-eyed dragon, my consciousness ended.

  ◆

  I started. My mind returned to reality from the imagery that had been etched into it.

  My breathing was ragged. I had only lost consciousness for an instant, but the experience had been powerful. What I had seen, I was certain, was my own death, as a possible future.

  “William, thou shalt challenge the dragon and die defeated, thy purpose not fulfilled.”

  His prophetic words had a ring of truth to them. Stagnate ruled over immortality, and it was probably possible for him to read that future as well.

  “If you would like to spare yourself a meaningless death, do not fight the Gods’ Sickle, the foul dragon Valacirca.”

  His red pupils pinned me to the spot.

  “If you cannot trust me, I suggest you ask Gracefeel’s opinion. Ask whether with your power and her protection you can win against the dragon as you are now. You will get the same answer.”

  The sight of a jet-black raven speaking a human tongue was uncanny and only made his words all the more powerful.

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because you demonstrated that you have what it takes to be a hero.”

  The raven’s reply was unhesitant.

  “I adore humans. Heroes in particular, as your teachers were. A hero overcoming the impossible and ending injustice with the radiance of their soul is a sight I find beautiful from the bottom of my heart. I even believe them to be the physical embodiment of the possibilities of human beings, no, all beings.”

  I let him continue.

  “That is why I want to preserve that sight in an eternal form. It is unbearable to watch souls like that being dragged down from their potential by common fools and reduced to nothing, their shine dulled by suffering and regret. It is the same to imagine you killed by a worldly fool like Valacirca. The thought makes me sick.”

  Worldly?

  “Hm. So your research hasn’t turned that up yet. Yes, worldly. Valacirca is a foul, materialistic dragon.”

  Stagnate spat out those words, and then began to talk more eloquently about him.

  “Valacirca’s name as the ‘Gods’ Sickle’ originates from the time of the great wars between the good and evil gods. At the time, I was on what you might call the side of good. And Valacirca was there, too—a dragon with an overwhelmingly massive body, dark-red scales, and fiery, noxious breath. He was one of the strongest and most ferocious dragons serving the Big Six.”

  He told me that Valacirca was a powerful and cruel dragon who declared openly that the only reasons he served the forces of good were that the dragons and giants who would oppose him were powerful and he would receive a good reward.

  “I’m surprised the good gods felt like employing him.”

  “If they had done otherwise, he would have become their enemy instead. Even that good-natured bunch are capable of calculating what’s in their own interest.”

  He did have a point. It was wartime. They wouldn’t refuse help from hired fighters because of a little bit of bad manners.

  “He was fixated on three things: battle, victory, and treasure. He would win, steal, and be very pleased with himself. A straightforward, beastlike nature, don’t you agree? And because of that, the Big Six were that much more cautious about how they handled him.”

  He was dropped in at the most critical points and won. The dragon without a name began to be called Valacirca, the Gods’ Sickle.

  “At a certain point during those wars, I turned my back on the forces of good. I will avoid going into the details of what occurred after that, but ultimately a final battle took place in which the sides of good and evil were evenly matched and almost destroyed each other. The gods and the dragons were all heavily wounded, and many departed to a distant world. From that point on, the gods were limited in their ability to directly interfere with the world.”

  That was a piece of mythology that was passed down in this world. Because the gods interfered with the world in practical ways, unless some god deliberately spread a false story, the general outline would get passed down precisely.

  “Valacirca successfully and intelligently survived this last all-out war and went to sleep.”

  To prepare for the next war and plunder.

  “The dragon always slept a long time. Every time he awakened, he took part in a war. If there was no war, he fanned the flames himself. He did not take sides but lent his strength to all involved. And every time he did, the gods’ plans were disrupted. As far as I know, the last war he participated in was the pandemonium started by those demons from Hell.”

  That was the Great Collapse and the end of the Union Age.

  “He met the High King and lent him his power. His usual cunning and materialism, I’m sure. Swords aside, the High King wasn’t one with a great attachment to treasure, you see. And Valacirca laid waste to the Iron Country, suffered a serious battle wound, and took to sleep to allow it to heal. Removed from the tide of battle, once again he cleverly excused himself...”

  “W-Wait!” Al, who had been stiff with fear up until now, suddenly raised a startled voice.

  ◆

  “Battle wound? Did you say he suffered a serious battle wound? Did my ancestors—”

  “Hmm, what’s this? Are you a descendant of the mountain dwarves?”

  “Y-Yes!”

  After hearing that answer, the raven laughed. It was a joyful laugh.

  “My oh my, the hand of Fate in action! Very well, then. Dwarf connected to the Iron Mountains!
I, Stagnate, god of undeath, shall reveal to you the truth: the Lord of the Iron Mountains, Aurvangr, was a true hero!”

  It was an innocent voice, like that of a child showing off a treasure to a friend.

  “Hear this! And take pride! Calldawn, that legendary sword of many generations, stole one eye from the foul dragon that has lived since the time of the gods!”

  As the god spoke of Al’s ancestors with the greatest pride, Al’s quivering hand tightened into a fist. “I-Is that the truth?”

  “It certainly is. I acknowledge it here: his heroism was spectacular and satisfying to the extreme!”

  Al’s voice choked with emotion. “Th-Thank you... Thank you...”

  The raven that was the Herald of the god of undeath watched over Al warmly. From this scene alone, it would have been hard to think of him as an evil god. But it was also a fact that this was a god whose sympathy led him to produce a great number of undead, corrupting the laws of life and death and each time bringing about disaster.

  “William, warrior of the flame, one day you may be able to surpass even Aurvangr’s glorious accomplishments and sever the head of Valacirca. But now is not that time. Avoid battle. Bide your time and train.”

  His words seemed to be genuine words of concern for me.

  “Even if there are victims, as hard as this may be for you to accept.”

  I hesitated over how to respond. The next moment, I felt a crawling sensation run up my spine.

  “Listen, the dragon slumbers lightly now.”

  An underground rumbling echoed around the burial chamber.

  rrrrrRRRRR...

  The ground shook. I could hear a roar that seemed to echo from the very depths of the earth.

  rrrrrrrrRRRRRR...

  It was a terrifying sound that seemed to hold a tight grip on my soul. My hands were shaking. When on earth was the last time I felt fear from the roar of a living creature?

  rrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRR...

  After that last roar, significantly longer than the others, the noise and the shaking both stopped abruptly.

  “The dragon has demonstrated his power. To him, it was probably nothing more than rolling over in his sleep on the brink of wakefulness. But even so, I suggest you return to your territory quickly, or things are going to get out of hand.”

  The god of undeath’s raven looked displeased.

  — The fire of dark disaster shall catch in the mountains of rust. That fire shall spread, and this land may all be consumed.

  — The dragon is coming. The dragon is coming! The dragon is coming! Valacirca! Calamity’s sickle descends upon you!

  Those ominous words once again crossed my mind.

  ◆

  Al let out a wild yell. His weighty battle axe swung horizontally straight into the face of the crazed giant lizard, breaking bone and scattering skin and flesh.

  “Hmm, another four are approaching from west-northwest. What now?”

  Stagnate’s Herald-raven croaked loudly from up in the air.

  Not bothering to answer him, I swung around my sling as one of the lizards sprang out of a bush to the west-northwest and landed a direct hit on its head. A red flower blossomed. I hardly looked at it. I swung around the next stone. Two more lizards leaped out one after the other. I picked one of the two and buried the stone between its eyes.

  The other drew closer. Al blocked with a shield as it tried to bite him and, summoning an instant of courage, he faced it from the front and smashed his axe down into its head.

  His first battle had turned out nothing like I’d been expecting. Still, he was moving pretty well.

  The last one of the four came at him, too. He fended it off with the movements that had been ingrained into him by training, making panicked yelps all the while, and finally crushed it with the axe. The giant lizard kept fighting wildly until it was completely dead.

  “Do you understand now? That is a dragon roar.”

  It was the kind of terror only a ruler could wield, and it had the power to strike panic into the hearts of all creatures great and small. Gus had once told me that this was the reason outstanding heroes were needed to slay a dragon. It made sense. If a dragon could inspire this kind of panic just by roaring, then it wouldn’t matter how many average soldiers you assembled; they would only serve to accelerate the chaos.

  After that dragon roar, we escaped from the burial chamber with dirt falling in pieces from the ceiling to be immediately confronted by beasts that had lost their minds to the dragon’s howling.

  The god of undeath’s Herald-raven was yet to leave and seemed to be enjoying himself as he flew at my side. In fact, it had even gotten to the point that he was giving me helpful information about the beasts that were coming. I was thankful for that, but the sense that this could be a calculated move was making me unable to feel happy about it. What was I supposed to call this emotion?

  “Ah, hello. Northwest. Some more bad news is coming this way.”

  I could hear the ground rumbling at regular intervals and the sound of trees cracking. Those were not the sounds a four-legged creature made as it moved...

  “It’s a forest giant. That will give even you a bit of a hard time.”

  Accompanied by the dreadful sound of living trees being torn apart, a giant appeared who was over three meters tall and wearing fur. He had a club in his hand and was foaming at the mouth. He was clearly deranged with panic. As soon as Al saw it, he bent back with a cry of horror and surprise.

  “It looks like it wasn’t prepared for Valacirca’s howling. What now, hero?”

  The Herald-raven looked down at me from the sky, with a genuine, irritating pleasure in his red eyes.

  Forest giants lived deep in the woods and were generally mild-mannered, although it depended on the personality of the individual and the clan. They were also relatively small as giants went.

  “Are you going to kill it?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then you will stop it? That? How?”

  “Don’t you know?”

  Blood shouted inside my head.

  “Get ripped, and you can solve pretty much everything by force!”

  I tossed my sling aside and sprinted towards the giant.

  ◆

  Bellowing angrily and foaming at the mouth, the forest giant swung his club in a horizontal arc towards me. It was a very bulky club, as if a section had just been cut out of a tree trunk. I stopped dead, folded my arms up compactly, held my shield in position with both hands and my left shoulder, and took the hit head-on. There was a powerful impact. I pressed my feet down hard, and they gouged out a trail in the ground as I was pushed backwards a little.

  “This is... nothing!” I pushed back.

  Despite his loss of control, the forest giant seemed startled by the unexpected feeling of resistance. Hastily pulling back his club, he then released a flurry of blows with surprisingly limber movements of his arm. I took them all on my shield. A normal shield would have broken into pieces already from the impact, but I had carved layer upon layer of Signs into this one over the past two years. It wouldn’t break easily. As I sustained all the giant’s fierce blows, I gradually closed the gap between us.

  With a loud roar, the giant finally switched to a two-handed stance and brought the club down as if to crack my head in half. It was a frontal attack that took advantage of his great height and superior body weight. As the club came down, I thought about how impressive it was that he’d had the judgment to use this particular move while in a mad frenzy.

  But I’d been expecting this attack. Holding my shield at a tilted angle, I deflected his blow to my left. The feel of the strike being forced in a different direction when all his previous attacks had just been stopped by the shield took the giant by surprise, and his posture faltered. I’d been waiting for that moment. Twisting my body as I took a big step forward, I grabbed hold of the giant’s thick arm, and I pulled it in towards me hard and spun my whole body in the style of a sacrifice throw.
The giant’s center of gravity tilted forward. He was unable to fight it. I felt the interesting sensation of a massive weight floating into the air, and the next instant, a tremendous rumble shook the earth.

  “H-He threw the giant?” Al said, stunned.

  “Yes, he did.”

  I couldn’t afford to pay attention to them. I ignored them, held the giant down, and immediately prayed to the god of the flame. The prayer I was using was Sanity, a so-called resuscitation miracle that caused the target to recover from confusion. I felt the power of my god being channeled through me, and then the deranged forest giant made some drowsy, confused noises and the light of sanity returned to his eyes.

  “As usual, your actions leave me speechless.”

  “What did you expect me to do?”

  Unless you performed the prayer while directly touching the target, Sanity only had a mild effect, so a plan was needed if I wanted to cast it on a giant who had lost his mind. Power was needed to carry that plan out, and I happened to have it. That was all.

  Get ripped, and you can solve pretty much everything by force. And if you have techniques and magic as well, that’s even better.

  As a rule, Blood’s teachings were correct.

  ◆

  “I really did something sorry.”

  “It’s no trouble. Can you get back without help?”

  “I think it is get back somehow.”

  “Oh, uh, ‘Giant-language, slightly, understand.’”

  “Ohh! ‘What a surprise! That helps a lot!’”

  It was an incredibly jumbled conversation.

  “Umm... the dragon... ‘Dragon, howl, dangerous, is’...”

  “Yes, it is derrible, I know. ‘I must return to my tribe. After that, I think I will move somewhere a little safer.’”

  “Oh, in that case, please mention the name of William the paladin. ‘If, people, collide, my-name, William.’”

  “William. Paladin, William, god it. ‘All right. You have my gratitude, Sir William.’”