Following the current, we rowed the boat into the forest. Although the haze was very thin, I could feel toxicity in it, and all around, I could sense the bloodlust of viciously brutal lifeforms. Everyone frowned. Although we’d expected it, the forest was clearly not in a normal state.
From the tiller, Reystov muttered his mind. “This looks awful.”
“Yes, that’s because it is.” Dine admitted it freely. “The forest is completely corrupted and shrinks every year as if it’s necrotizing. The animals here are all crazed monsters. It’s surrounded by mist and marshland, and we have no idea which way we’d have to go to contact any other groups large enough to matter. And to top it off, the mountain which is our only landmark is a den of demons and a dragon.”
No sooner had she murmured the word “dragon” than its roar echoed once more from the west. Strange birds screeched and flew, and I thought I sensed the forest’s monstrous animals cowering in fear.
“And what’s worse, the dragon’s been like that recently. Some of us even said this might be the end.”
“This... doesn’t look like just the effects of a Taboo Word.”
“Yes. It’s the foul-dragon’s miasma.”
“The foul-dragon?”
The dragon was in the mountains. How could it—
“The tunnels that the dwarves ran underground.”
Al and Ghelreis grimaced when they heard that response.
“For good and bad, we elves of Lothdor and the dwarves of the Iron Country were neighbors. There were a lot of paths between us both above and below ground. So after the Iron Country fell, the miasma of the dragon lying in its ruins flowed through the tunnels to every part of the forest, and it continues to do so today.”
“That’s...”
“Mm...”
“Don’t worry about it. I don’t mean to imply anything against you dwarves or anything like that. I was just explaining the facts of the current situation, that’s all.” Dine waved her hand candidly and continued. “The fairies’ boon is weakened around here, and the water, air, and food have all absorbed the poison. The longer we live, the more the poison builds up inside us. Many here are bedridden and unable to move at this point. The beauty of Lothdor is a thing of the distant past. We don’t intend to accept our destruction or lose our pride, but even so, right now, this place is a dead man walking.”
The boat continued forward. A few fences came into view, then houses. They were dirty, dingy, battered, chalk houses. A few elves shambled out to look at the unfamiliar boat.
“We never expected heroes to come from the outside to slay the foul-dragon. I feel like I’m dreaming.” Those words that Dine quietly uttered sounded full of all kinds of emotions.
How many people had died of illness already before we even arrived? How many had been driven by the shrinking forest and dwindling food supplies to go out in search of contact with the outside world on a journey from which they would never return? There must have been people who knew her among them. If explorers had found this place earlier, before the foul-dragon problem materialized, would there have been people that could have been saved?
As I entertained those foolish thoughts, Dine walked to the bow of the boat with graceful movements that made her seem almost weightless and spun on her heel to face us. “Welcome to Lothdor.” She had the palm of her right hand placed over her heart, one leg slightly pulled back, and her head bowed. It was an old style of greeting. “We extend our warmest welcome to you, heroes.” Her expression blossomed into a broad smile.
◆
For the next while, things became very busy.
Deciding that Dine had explained the situation well enough now, I requested to be allowed to heal the gravely ill. The leaders of this elven settlement seemed to be unsure whether it was a good idea to expose the most vulnerable among them to strangers who had arrived out of nowhere. I bowed my head earnestly and pleaded to be allowed to heal them.
One of the elder elves with pure-white hair and an old scar noticed our weapons and armor. Through a bout of terrible coughing, he said, “If warriors with kit like this are pleading with us, we should not force them to shame themselves.”
“Let me cure your cough,” I said.
“Wait.” He coughed again. “There are those who need it far more than I—”
“I’ll cure you all.” It was only a matter of who would come first. I intended to cure every elf I laid eyes on.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Healing through benediction is a considerable drain on your concentration and vitality. You can’t heal person after—”
“One or two hundred won’t be a problem.”
“Hundred?!” All the elves who were assembled here, including Dine, stared their eyes out at me.
“I can heal you all, and I will.” I prayed as I spoke. I lowered my eyes slightly, concentrated intently, and asked for the assistance of the god of the flame. The next moment, a dim light glowed, and the elder’s cough was gone. It was over in a few seconds. There was a small commotion among some of the elves; others were speechless.
I could attain a state of deep prayer in the span of a single breath. I’d reached that level naturally through being taught by Mary and praying every day. Merely being blessed with the power of miracles wouldn’t be enough to allow a priest to survive in the thick of battle if they hadn’t mastered this through training.
“Please gather everyone with serious symptoms. Those who can’t be brought here, I will go to visit one by one.” I looked around at everyone. “Don’t worry,” I said, and placed my hand over my heart. “I’ll heal you all, on the flame of Gracefeel.”
The elves nodded at each other, quickly splitting the task among them. Then they all rushed off to separate parts of the settlement.
By the time I was fully done healing everyone in the community, the sun had long since set. I stood by the river of foul water at the outskirts of the village and exhaled deeply. I could hear the sound of music coming faintly from the village.
Even those in critical condition, debilitated on their death beds with paralyzed limbs, had gotten up one after another. They cried tears of joy when their arms and legs started to work again, and hugged people with no regard for whether they were friends, acquaintances, or strangers.
Everyone was cheering, and from there it was only natural for food and drinks and instruments to be brought out. Soon, a party started. Everyone was all over me as the guest of honor, and I was forced to drink cup after cup of fruit wine. The elves were very interested in talking to Ghelreis and Al. Even Reystov quietly joined in on the drinking. As for Menel, he was dragged around by Dine, who was completely drunk, and they danced in front of the campfire. Whatever kind of dance that had been, he hadn’t looked used to it.
It was a pleasant night, with the moon visible only hazily in the cloudy sky.
I would have liked to stay a little tipsy, but I used the Prayer of Detoxification to remove the alcohol from my bloodstream. I had no idea when a battle could occur. I couldn’t yet afford to abandon myself to liquor.
Suddenly, I heard the flapping of wings. A large raven alighted on a twisted branch next to me. It had glossy black feathers and red eyes that had something ominous about them.
“Is your journey progressing smoothly?”
It was the Herald-raven of the god of undeath, Stagnate.
“Yes, so far at least... owowow.”
A warning from the god of the flame rang like a headache through my head.
I’m sorry, but please calm down, God, it’s okay.
“Hahaha. Gracefeel really does love you.”
The raven clicked its beak in laughter. Then it paused for a beat, tilted its head, and said,
“Would you like to try being loved by me as well?”
“Very funny. So? Get to the point.” I stared into its red eyes.
“It’s nothing, really. Just a warning. If you are to turn back, this is likely your final opportunity.”
At the same time,
the ground shook. I heard a rumbling that seemed to reverberate from the bowels of the earth.
rrrrrrrRRRRRRRRR...
I could hear roaring from the mountain range to the west. It was a terrifying sound that seemed to grip my soul within clenched talons. As the roaring came to an end, silence fell. Even the merry musical tunes of the elven village stopped dead as though petrified by the noise.
“I will say it one more time. If you challenge him, you will die.”
His red eyes were piercing.
◆
“If you take on the dragon, you will die, with no way to escape.”
The god of undeath spoke flatly.
“Build up your strength.”
“If I do that, Al and the others will die, I expect. If the dragon is to harm anyone, the dwarves believe that their blood should be first to be spilled.”
“Indeed, the dwarves will die. Humans, elves, and dwarves alike will die in the hundreds, even thousands, when the foul-dragon awakens. But as a result of the casualties, faith will collect around you and Gracefeel.”
The gods’ power depended upon faith. Each time the damage caused by the foul-dragon increased, belief would gather around my god as people turned to her for help to get rid of the dragon. The power that my god gained from people’s wishes and prayers would feed directly into my own battle strength, provided that Gracefeel blessed me with it, and it would certainly be power enough for slaying a dragon.
“If the dragon causes great harm, skilled warriors and other ambitious, talented people will gather from all over hoping to gain fame by slaying it. As will disciples of the good gods charged with a mission. If you band those heroes together under the protection of Gracefeel returned to full strength, you will be able to make your blade reach the foul-dragon’s throat.”
Once again, I was reminded how convincing his words were.
“I am not fond of a plan like this, either. But you should allow there to be victims. It would be a courageous course of action, not a cowardly one.”
It was a convincing and sound argument. However—
“I can’t do that.”
“Why? Do you wish to save everything that badly?”
The Herald-raven shifted on the branch, irritated.
“I’ll grant you this: If you continue onward without forsaking a single thing, there may remain the slightest of possibilities that you could save everything you desire to save. But if you fail, the lives lost will not be a matter of ten or twenty thousand. And it will be a while before there is another hero who compares to you. For the sake of protecting some thousands of lives, you would put ten or even a hundred times that number at risk, even knowing what I’ve told you? It is the height of recklessness.”
“Stagnate, god of undeath, I’m sure you’re right.”
I did think he was. I could find no fault with his logic. If I was looking for the optimal solution, that was probably it.
“If you agree, then—”
“But the moment I do that, the oath and devotion I depend upon will be broken.”
The god of undeath’s eyes grew wide.
Yes—that was the one problem.
“And you’re deliberately talking about ‘the right decision’ because you know that.”
“...”
It was to break my resolve and incorporate me into his forces. As though this were some pagan ritual in which power was gained by sacrificing people at an altar, he was recommending that the best path was to give up, to let it happen, to gain power in exchange for blood and flesh.
“Am I wrong?”
“...”
The god of undeath’s answer was silence.
“Stagnate, god of undeath.”
“Yes?”
“I am a weak person. I know myself to be just an ordinary human with a fickle heart, easily swayed and broken and quick to give up.”
I had no intention of saying that being reborn had changed me. The fundamental nature of my heart, my soul, probably hadn’t changed from my previous world. So if I let something happen, if I gave up on it, that would be the moment when I would break. I understood how that descent worked, and it started with making excuses that there was nothing I could do, that I had no opportunities, that it was impossible to continue—accumulating reasons to give up, and repeating those same excuses to myself over and over.
“But despite that, my god taught me that it was okay to start over. She allowed me to stand up and walk on my own two feet once more.” While staring into the god of undeath’s red eyes, I spoke of my feelings toward the god of the flame. “I was able to meet my precious family. I made treasured friends and allies. I have things I’m meant to do and things I want to do. She gave me the opportunity to reach out my hand once more for the things I’d lost, the things I’d given up on.”
I had no idea how I could ever thank her enough. That reticent god wearing a hood had given me many truly precious things. And that was why.
“I will see that through. I will keep to my oath, keep faith in my heart, and until the very instant I fall over dead, I will be her hands and her blade.”
Maybe it wasn’t optimal, maybe it was twisted and ugly, but it was my belief that it was the only way for me. It was the only road before me, lit by the light of her flame.
“On the flame of Gracefeel.”
“...”
The god of undeath still remained silent. Saying nothing, he looked at me... and sighed deeply.
“Dear, dear. Another attempt failed.”
◆
The distant sound of music could once again be heard from the elven village. Although they had stopped for a time because of the roaring of the dragon, they seemed to have gotten over it and started playing again. The crystal-clear, jaunty tones of a harp echoed pleasantly around the forest.
“You are correct. I realized it from the moment I first met you. Your soul is not particularly strong. If you give up, you will break and begin your descent. Your soul is nothing more than that, and I was well aware of it.”
I remembered the despair of our first meeting. Then the reason he’d pressed me so hard must have been because he had seen right through me.
“It never occurred to me that you could become a hero. I thought of you as an extra to the Three Heroes, a brittle soul, notably skilled due to training, but nothing more.”
In actual fact, that was what I was. If not for Mary’s scolding, if not for the grace of God, I would have folded in the face of the god of undeath and met my ruin.
“But you overturned all my expectations. You did not give in. You did not fold. In fact, you stood up, challenged me, and even defeated me.”
The god of undeath’s Herald-raven laughed cheerfully.
“Paradoxically, that is what will make you capable of becoming a hero, feeble soul.”
“I never thought about ‘becoming a hero.’”
“Hahaha. Knowing the extent of your own weakness and because of it refusing to give up, refusing to fold, being willing to die for what you believe in... “
As the elven music played in the distance, the god of undeath strung his words smoothly together with the melody.
“That is what people call a hero, William G. Maryblood, inheritor of all that defined the trio I once desired.”
I didn’t know how to reply to that. I only knew that for some reason, I felt strangely calm. I was talking to the evil god who had once thrown me into despair. He was my enemy, and I had risen up to oppose him and put my life on the line to fight him. And yet, my heart was as tranquil as it was when I prayed.
“Despite knowing it is in vain, I must say this once regardless. Join me. A seat on my right shall be prepared for you. You shall have eternal protection and armies of undead. We will kill the dragon, defeat heroes, bring down all the other gods and conquer the world. You and I together.”
I probably felt so calm because I knew that the deity called Stagnate, with his ideals, schemes, mercy, and everything else that made him, was trul
y a being to be respected. But for that very reason, I placed my hand over my heart and, with the utmost respect—
“Thank you, Stagnate, god of undeath. But no.”
I turned him down.
“In vain, as I thought, then.”
The raven laughed as if he had known it all along.
“Yes.” I nodded. “After all, you don’t want to see the fall of a hero, do you?” The instant I said that, the Herald-raven froze. For some strange reason, I had remembered all kinds of things. “If I lost my devotion to Gracefeel and became yours, I’m sure I wouldn’t be able to remain the kind of being you’re looking for.”
“...”
Stagnate had told me once that he wanted to create an eternally kind world. That he couldn’t bear to look at a soul that had been dragged down and lost its radiance among regret and suffering.
“Stagnate, god of undeath. You are my respected enemy, and a great deity.” I thought so from the bottom of my heart. “So I will not bow to your temptations. I will carry on being your enemy. Because I respect you.”
I may not be able to sympathize with you; we may have been enemies since we first met; but I know that you are great. I know that you are merciful in your own way. And so I want to pay you the greatest respect, by not becoming yours and continuing to be your enemy.
“What can I say?”
The god of undeath remained silent for a while and then spoke slowly, in a low tone.
“This is the first time that a human child has seen through me so completely. Despite how straightforward you appear, you are surprisingly sharp. You have understood the divine will of a god; you could rightly call yourself a wise man.”
“I’m honored,” I said, unsure how to reply to his frank words of praise.
“But what a shame it is. You will die. Die torn apart by a dragon.”
The god of undeath’s Herald-raven laughed bitterly.
“If you ever change your mind, feel free to call me any time, won’t you, hmm? I shall make you a high-level undead in the blink of an eye. Any time is acceptable, even the instant of your death or after your head goes flying. Oh, if you call me after your head has gone flying, would you settle for being a Dullahan Lord? Or would a No Life King be more to your taste?”
The Lord of the Rust Mountains (Complete) Page 24
