We made sure that the hydra was definitely dead and that the female elf had been healed. Then I handed my gear to Al, pulled the elf’s arms up, crouched down, and lifted her over my shoulders. It was like the fireman’s carry that firemen and lifeguards in my previous world used for transporting people in need of rescue. It made a person easy to lift and fast to move around with.
We had to move immediately. We’d fought a rowdy battle and gotten blood everywhere. Already we could hear the raspy screeching of monstrous birds circling the cloudy sky overhead in search of carrion. If we didn’t leave this place as soon as possible, we were guaranteed to encounter new enemies drawn here by the smell of blood.
After recovering his longsword from the hydra’s carcass, Menel said, “Wait a sec.”
“We don’t have much time,” Reystov replied with a dubious look.
“I’ll be quick.” Menel wrapped a cloth around his hand, pulled out his dagger, and started doing some kind of work on the hydra carcass. He inserted the blade carefully into the joint behind its fangs in its upper jaw, equivalent to the joint between the cheek and the ear in humans. “Good,” he said, and he poured the jet-black bodily fluid from the hydra into a small bottle he had with him.
“Is that... venom from its venom gland?” I asked.
“Bet we’ll find a use for it.”
“Be careful.”
I’d learned a little about poisons from Blood and Gus. They were hard to handle; storing them while preserving their toxicity and making intelligent use of them when needed were both difficult tasks that required proper knowledge.
“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”
Menel was a talented hunter and a warrior of the forest. He knew more than me about how to handle poisons from plants, animals, and beasts, so I was probably worrying for nothing.
“Sorry about that. Let’s go.”
With that, we trekked back to the boat through the bog. Based on their physique and equipment, Al and Ghelreis looked like they were finding it difficult to walk, but I felt as if my situation was even worse, with the weight of the elf over my shoulders pressing my feet deeper into the mud. I used my strength to force my way through. Muscle power came in useful even at times like these. I was so glad I’d trained!
“That hydra...” Al mumbled as we walked. “What a fight that was.” His hands were trembling slightly. Now that I thought about it, that was the first time he’d fought anything so large.
“Absolutely,” Ghelreis said. “We would have been in some trouble had we not fought it together.”
“That old champion Berkeley killed one single-handed,” Reystov chipped in. “So they say.”
The Berkeley Tale of Valor was an old epic that Bee told from time to time. In the days when the traces of myth were still common in the world and the evil gods’ minions were prevalent, the name of the wandering warrior Berkeley was spoken everywhere in the ancient kingdoms.
Berkeley served Volt, god of lightning and judgment. He was brave and noble and defeated many monsters, wielding his immense power for the sake of innocent people. However, he had an intense fondness for the pleasures of the flesh, and one day, a twist of fate and the jealousy of a wicked woman conspired to create the conditions for his downfall. In many ways, he was the perfect example of a hero.
“Starting to doubt it now I’ve seen the real thing, though. No one could take one of them down alone... Or, hmm.” Menel turned to look at me.
“What?”
“No, was just thinking you could probably manage it...” All the others turned to look at me with interest, so I decided to give it serious thought.
It would probably be easy if I could blast the hydra with a powerful Word from outside its range. However, it was unrealistic to think that I could spot a hydra living in a marshland of swirling mist and attack it without it noticing. So I was going to have to assume I’d be running into it in the bog itself. I also decided to assume I’d been anticipating fighting a hydra and had come properly prepared with weapons enhanced with fire Signs or something.
If I protected myself with a good magic shield and spent the opening stages of the battle just chopping off as many of its heads as I could, or if I did what Berkeley did and held one of its edgemost necks against my side, using it as a shield so I could be the one dragging the hydra around, maybe it would work out somehow? With several layers of physical enchantment spells and blessings, it would probably be alright.
Of course, given that I would be fighting a hydra alone in a swamp, there would always be a danger of something unexpected killing me. But still, even without considering the dirty trick of pulling out Overeater—
“I think my chances wouldn’t be too bad,” I said.
Menel bent his neck dramatically back to look straight up at the heavens and apologized to Volt for having doubted the accomplishments of his hero.
◆
We all returned to the boat, covered in mud, and loaded our gear into it. At the same time, we laid out sheets and blankets for the still-unconscious elf (whose name we were yet to discover) and wrapped her up in them to keep her from getting cold. Then it was back into the thigh-high mud to push the boat back to the river.
Slowly, the boat began moving again, following the current.
“Hmm...”
“Eck. Mud everywhere. Didn’t realize we were this bad.”
“Ahh! Leeches?!”
“Burn ’em off.”
“I’ll get some water and things ready.”
We’d all undergone a mud baptism, so we used benediction, fairy blessings, magic, and more to get rid of the mud and make ourselves look completely decent again. This was important. If we contracted a disease in a place like this, the word “hassle” wouldn’t come close to describing the problems we would face. I could heal people with benediction, but it would still take time for them to get their strength back. There were even some troublesome diseases that could lie dormant with no visible symptoms for some time and flare up suddenly later.
“There we go.”
Once we were all mostly clean, we finished dealing with the remaining aftermath of the battle. Without a word, Reystov took the helm and kept watch for us.
“So, about this elf.” I took another look at the elf wrapped up in blankets. She had the kind of rich golden hair that I imagined nature’s spirits would like. Her fine-featured face was pale and looked haggard. Her violet eyes were still lowered, but she was definitely breathing.
We had finally reached a point where we could pause for a moment to talk about her. Considering the precedent of the water serpents, it was admittedly hard to call the boat a safe place to be, but it was better than anywhere else. We couldn’t expect anywhere in these dark regions to be completely safe.
“Is she a survivor of the elves?”
“I imagine so.”
“Look, we’re not gonna get far talking without her.” Menel showed no restraint. Saying, “Hey. Wake up,” he tapped the elf on her cheeks, which were like a work of art, hard enough to make a slapping sound. When he saw she still wasn’t waking up, he brought a little bottle containing strong, distilled alcohol up to her full lips and poured it into her mouth without hesitation.
The effect was instant. The blonde-haired elf bolted awake with wide eyes, coughing violently from the liquid’s intense strength. She looked left and right, trying to make sense of what had happened to her.
“Wakey-wakey,” Menel said, grinning like a trouble-making kid. The rest of us had frozen a bit, shocked at the way Menel handled it.
“Wh-What was that?!” she sputtered.
“Woke you up with a spicy kiss. How you feeling, my fellow forest buddy? Splitting headache? Wanna puke?”
“G-Gods, you’re vulgar! You’re an offense to the ear and an ache upon the brain!”
Though I had healed her with benediction, she was in recovery from a near-death state. She had to be feeling drained, but that apparently hadn’t taken the fight out of her.
“Well, you sound well enough.”
“And... And did you just say... k-kiss? You... You didn’t dare!”
“Calm down. You smooched this bottle.”
She went red to the tips of her ears and railed against Menel in the fastest Elvish I’d ever heard. I couldn’t make it all out with my skill at the language, but I could tell it was a barrage of intense and bitter sarcasm. Menel let it run off him like water off a duck’s back.
Al and Ghelreis didn’t seem to be proficient in Elvish and were unable to keep up with their conversation, and Reystov had his hand on the tiller and was keeping well out of it. I thought about saying something to the pair of them so we could all move on, but apparently even Menel had the sense to know that things had gone on long enough. As the elf paused for breath for a moment, Menel placed his hand over his heart with a polished motion and gave her a greeting in Old Elvish. “‘The stars shine on the hour of our meeting.’”
The elf frowned, retracted her sharp tongue, and responded with the standard formal greeting in a similarly refined manner.
Menel shrugged. “Sorry for shocking you. It’s just how I was raised. I’m Meneldor of Ithil.”
“Swift-winged heavenly eagle of the silver moon, I am Dinelind of Remmirath.”
“Enchanting silent tune of the net of shining stars, may our meeting be blessed.”
Spoken in beautiful, rhythmical Elvish, it was a rhyming exchange in the traditional format.
“So you can behave normally,” Dinelind said, frustrated.
“Elven greetings aren’t my style.” He shrugged. “No more, please.”
Dinelind gave a small, resigned snort, smiling with her violet eyes. “Alright.”
Then she looked at me, who had been completely left behind by the conversation, and switched to slightly dated Western Common Speech. It was the way of speaking I was most familiar with: the language spoken in Blood and Mary’s time. “My apologies. Are you the leader of this group? It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Dinelind.” Dee-neh-lihnd.
“William G. Maryblood.”
“You saved my life. You all have my deepest gratitude.”
She gave me a graceful bow.
◆
The dark, thick, stagnant river flowed slowly. Carried by the water’s flow, the boat progressed to the north between withered trees that reminded me of bones exposed to the elements. A slight current of air was filling its sail. That was because Menel had used the Tailwind spell again. It seemed the fairies had regained a little of their power.
“So then we...”
After introducing ourselves to Dinelind, we explained to her that we were on a journey to kill the foul-dragon Valacirca and the mountain demons. She was astonished. “Just the five of you? Are you serious?”
“You think we’d come all the way out here for a joke?”
“You might. I admit that William over there seems unlikely to do that. He looks sensible and sincere.”
“And I’m neither, am I?”
“Ask yourself. But this really is reckless.”
“We’re aware it’s reckless. But we have to do it all the same.”
“I see. You’re very brave.”
Dinelind was relatively proficient in Western Common Speech, but her mother tongue was definitely Elvish. She mostly talked to Menel and me.
“So, Dinelind, why were you there being attacked by a hydra?”
“Well, I don’t mind telling that story, if you have a little time to listen.”
“Let’s eat first,” Menel said. “Can’t ever trust an elf’s littles.”
He had a point. As long as we were in an area as dangerous as this, there was nothing to be lost by getting food in us whenever we were able. If our boat ever capsized, that would be the end of our food supply.
“Al, you got the smoked venison there, right?”
“I do, but... Would that be okay?”
“Yes, I can eat venison just fine.”
Given Al’s doubt, apparently elves really did have a strong image as vegetarians.
“About the only elves who don’t eat meat are those who underwent special training and became strongly fae in nature.” She explained that all other elves hunted like normal and ate meat and fish. “It’s the duty of us elves as rulers of the forest to hunt and fish to preserve the balance of nature.”
The idea of applying moderate pressure to maintain ecological balance was a very elf-like way of thinking.
On the boat, we ate the venison we’d smoked in the city of the dead along with some holy bread. We couldn’t very well use fire, so we had to have it cold, but the smoky taste of the cold venison made it a pretty tasty meal in its own way. Dinelind ate the bread like it was a new experience for her, and the venison with salt sprinkled over it made her eyes go wide.
“Wait.” Menel frowned upon seeing her reaction to the food. “What do you guys normally eat?”
Dinelind shrugged sarcastically. “You can imagine, can’t you?”
The marshland and cloudy river had a thick aura of impurity and death. The creatures we’d seen so far were snakes and stuff like that. It wasn’t as if I couldn’t imagine it; I just didn’t really want to.
“And I think you have a good idea of why I was there, too. That’s why you suggested we eat first and shared your food with me.”
Menel grumbled and shut his mouth. Judging by his reaction, she had hit the bull’s-eye.
Dinelind spoke in a detached tone. “As you guessed, there were too many mouths to feed.”
Menel frowned even harder.
◆
Too many mouths to feed... I wondered what that meant.
“Was there something wrong with you?”
Whenever I heard of people being abandoned when there were too many mouths to feed, those who couldn’t work were usually first to go. The practice helped a group to strike the balance between food supply and food consumption, ensuring its survival. In both my past world’s history and the world I was living in now, in the event of a famine, the old and infirm would be first to go, and their loss would enable the healthy and the work animals to survive. Dinelind looked a little peaky, but otherwise she seemed in good shape.
“No,” she answered.
“Huh?”
“Will, that isn’t the way elves think,” Menel said, wrinkling his brows.
Dinelind nodded. “Yes, exactly.”
“Umm, I don’t understand.”
“There’s nothing to understand. It’s simple,” Menel said, with a complicated expression. Then, he spoke with conviction. “Elves are noble. They never forsake the weak. No matter how bad things get, an elf will never abandon the old or the sick. From the looks of it, it must be a completely isolated village, surrounded by danger.”
Around us, the stagnant river and marshland extended as far as we could see.
“I bet whenever there’s a food shortage, those who can move and fight volunteer to leave,” Menel continued. “Best case, they can find some way out, make their way to somewhere inhabited, and call for help. And even if they don’t, that’s one less mouth to feed. Right?”
“Yes, that’s right. Who would think of sending the weak out to fend for themselves? That’s ridiculous,” Dinelind said seriously.
The weak were to be protected, and the strong were to be first to make sacrifices. She spoke not with a tone of fanaticism or blind faith, but as though this was absolutely natural common sense.
“You really are an elf,” Menel muttered.
“Excuse me? Was that a compliment or an insult?”
“A compliment, dammit.” Menel avoided looking directly at her as though she were the sun.
Elves are proud and noble—that was a common refrain I’d heard from everyone. I was beginning to see why.
“Elves never change,” Ghelreis said quietly. The old scar on his face was warped by the corners of his mouth pulling up into a smile.
We talked for a little while about a few less consequential things, and then I brought up the topic once more. “Dinelind, would you mind showing us to your settlement? If you’ll teach us the way to the mountains, we’ll do what we can for you.”
“‘Dine’ will do.” She brushed her blonde hair back with her fingers—it was still untied from her run-in with the hydra—and did it back up to around neck length. “That’s more than I could have wished for,” she said, and nodded. “Thank you.”
◆
We held a course through the wetland down a narrow branch of the river for a while. Around the time the sun started to set, the forest came into view.
But it wasn’t the kind of beautiful forest that Ghelreis had talked about. It had a strong aura of death, like a patient stricken with a terminal disease near the end of his days. The branches of the trees were creepily discolored all over. From their weakly drooping branches hung leaves that were already brown and half-withered.
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 truly 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 god of undeath sounded as if he was enjoying himself. I shrugged. “I’m going against a dragon. If I lose, there won’t be a trace of me left.”
“Hahaha. How right you are!”
We both laughed.
“Then I shall take my leave. Gracefeel must be getting quite ticked.”
Although the warning revelation had certainly stopped ringing inside my head, I could somehow sense that her stress levels were building. Gracefeel was very godlike most of the time, but on matters concerning the god of undeath, I got the feeling that she seemed childish, maybe even human.
“Farewell, then, paladin of the flame, my wise and foolish foe!”
Leaving those words behind, the Herald-raven flew off and was quickly obscured by the darkness of night. As I watched it go, I was careless enough to allow a hint of a smile to creep onto my face.
“Owww!” The concept of a sharp, pinching sort of pain was sent into my head. I winced.
Th-That was mean, God!
◆
The following morning after my unexpected chance encounter and dialog with the god of undeath, the post-party elven settlement was filled with the sounds of an argument.
Having made quite a lot of use of benediction the previous night in addition to my conversation with the god of undeath, I was just a little mentally fatigued. Rubbing my eyes, I wandered out of the hut that had been provided for me and looked to see what was going on.
“Look, just let me go, goddammit!”
“You can’t seriously expect us to just let you go and do that!”
It was Menel and Dine who were arguing. My dozy brain considered this for a few seconds. “Oh, it’s just a lovers’ quarrel,” I concluded, and had just about started to head back into the hut to get some more sleep when I was gripped firmly on both of my shoulders.
“Hold it, you.”
“Would you care to repeat that?”
Their voices sounded pretty threatening. This was finally enough to wake me up completely, and at the same time, make me break out in a cold sweat. I laughed nervously in the hope it would get me out of this. Tell me, God, what’s the right answer to that question?
Dine sighed. “It’s not exactly the time to abandon ourselves to romance.”
She had a point. This was a time of life and death for their village. Whichever way you sliced it, there were clearly matters that took precedence.
“Ya.” Menel nodded in agreement and shrugged. “If only it was, huh? Too bad.”
I didn’t miss Dine’s shoulders twitch and her composure falter. I couldn’t help seizing at the topic. “So if circumstances were different, you would have been saying something to her?”
“Hm? Well sure, she’s pretty, right?”
Dine knit her beautiful brow. She turned her cheek away from Menel and was about to say something back when he continued.
“Probably would’ve tossed her some flattering bullshit in place of a greeting, sure.”
Dine froze. And then she started trembling.
Menel...
“I don’t get you...”
“Ya, well, you’re so unused to women it actually makes me worried for you.”
There was a pretty big gap between Menel and me when it came to where we each stood in the world of chatting up women. It was probably on the same level as a Japanese person in my previous world compared to an Italian. Though that said, Menel could be pretty dense at times as well.
“With Ithil elves, once you’re able to recite a single love poem in front of a woman, that makes you an adult.”
“That’s why you Ithils are always called irresponsible!” Dine glared at Menel sharply with her violet eyes.
Menel shrugged casually. “Well, Remmirath folk are apparently a bunch of headstrong shrews.”
“Oh, you went there!”
Before I knew it, the argument had started up again. They both had tongues as sharp as swords, and as the verbal spar unfolded between them, the Elvish got faster and faster, and I could no longer pick the words out. When it came to these kinds of arguments, elves made heavy use of sarcasm and metaphor, which made it even harder to grasp.
But Dine kind of looked like she was having fun.
I suddenly thought back on the heavy expressions of the elves when we first arrived at the settlement. They’d lost many talented warriors and elementalists in the war-torn era of the Great Collapse and were cut off from civilization. Their forest was violated by curses and poisons, became isolated and diseased, and fell into decline. And two hundred years went by, during which not a single one of the brave elves who journeyed out in search of contact with the outside world ever returned...
Those years must have been so difficult that silly arguments like this went right out of everyone’s mind.
“You really are a ■■■■■■!”
“And you’re a feckin’ ■■■■■■■■.”
That one left her open-mouthed.
I wondered what those insults meant. If even the great Gus had no memory of learning them, I figured they had to be pretty bad.
◆
After their argument had calmed down, I intervened and brought the conversation back on topic.
“So what was that about going somewhere?”
“The Lord of the Woods,” Menel said, clearly still in a bad mood. “The Lord of the Woods around here. I should be able to heal it a little.”
That was a good point. I had my hands full with healing yesterday, but I’d been thinking about discussing this with him when we got up. I figured Menel would be able to improve the situation in this forest a bit. However—
“We can’t possibly let you.” Dine’s response was curt. “No way.”
“For God’s sake...” Menel frowned, but Dine had her arms folded in a pose that indicated she wasn’t going to budge an inch.
The Lord of the Woods was the forest’s core, the being that was its greatest weak point. If something with power and malice came into contact with it, terrible damage could be done. We’d seen that just recently when Beast Woods had begun to be contaminated by that Cernunnos. Even if they were somewhat indebted to us, the elves who lived in this forest probably wouldn’t allow outsiders in so easily.
“Umm, but, Menel can be trusted. I swear it. If you need some kind of guarantee, you could take me hostage or...”
Dine shook her head, as if to say I’d gotten it all wrong. “It’s not that. We do trust you all.”
“Huh?”
“We trust you and we’re thankful to you. I don’t know how many people you must have saved just last night. If there’s something you seek, we want to do whatever we can to satisfy your request. If you ask us to provide you with military strength, we’ll give you warriors, and if you need to be shown the way, we’ll gladly guide you.”
“Then why?”
“If we could show you safely to the Lord of the Woods on your request, then there would be no problem.” Dine looked down. “The area around the Lord of the Woods is beast territory now. It’s no longer ours. We can’t guide you.”
“But that’s even more reason—”
“Even more reason for us to depend on you?” Dine tilted her head and smiled. “You saved our lives and gave us back hope. And you’re just about to head into battle. How could we possibly push another battle onto you, completely inconsiderate of your circumstances? ‘Oh, please, heroes, we’re in such trouble and we can’t handle it on our own, please drop everything you’re doing to help us, we beg you!’”
She shrugged. “I’m sorry, but no. As if we could make such a shameless request. This isn’t about asking others for help, it’s about clinging like a leech to people to whom we’re already indebted and placing further burden on them.”
Lost for a response, I unconsciously looked to Menel for help. Umm, what is she... just... what?
With an incredibly complicated expression, Menel said simply, “See? Elf.”
I could only nod. They were incredibly noble and an incredible pain to deal with. I could understand what everyone had said about them.
This nature of theirs might have arisen from the way they lived such long lives in perpetual youth. As a result of hardly aging, there weren’t many children or elderly in the settlement who needed protecting. Most of them were physically young. That was what enabled them to make these choices. Humans who grow old in no time at all couldn’t hope to imitate them.
“That’s how it is, so thank you, but there’s no need for you to needlessly use your power to help us.”
As I was thinking about what I should do about this, Ghelreis lumbered over. Because it was dawn right now, his hard expression, made sterner by the scar running down from his forehead, looked drowsy. His eyelids were still half-closed. “What is it?” he asked.
“Well, you see...” I explained the situation to him.
A deep expression spread across his face. “Truly, elves never change.”
“What do you think we should do?”
Ghelreis hummed and nodded. “Just do it, I say.”
Well said, I thought. It was clear that he was a veteran. “Alright, let’s just do it, then. Menel, can you tell where the Lord of the Woods is located?”
“It’s weak, but I can just about pick it up, sure.”
“Ghelreis, please gather Al and Reystov. Full gear.”
“Mm.”
“Once we’re all here, we’ll eat breakfast and go.”
Dine looked between us all, flustered. “W-Wait, what? Wait a minute. You’re talking as though you’re going on a stroll to walk off your breakfast. Where are you going?”
“Well, beast hunting.”
“B-But we don’t...”
“Who said we can’t help unless we’re asked? We’re sticking our noses in whether you like it or not,” Menel said lightly. “And more to the point”—he poked my arm—“there’s no way regular old beasts are going to wear us two down at this point.”
It really wasn’t much different from an after-meal stroll, and it would inconvenience me more to have to abandon them. I had sworn an oath to my god that as her hands, I would bring salvation to those in sorrow. In this world where gods existed, a very strong oath was a serious thing to make. It was even close to a geas, a type of vow from Irish mythology in my previous world. It was easy to imagine that breaking one intentionally wouldn’t bring about good results, and more importantly, if we came back here to find this settlement destroyed, I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night.
Ghelreis was right. It would be best for us to take it upon ourselves to interfere and help for our own reasons.
“So,” Menel said, “what do proud and noble elves do when the people who helped them go wandering into dangerous territory all by themselves?”
Dine groaned in frustration. “Oh... boo!” It wouldn’t make sense for them to stop us, and they would find it physically impossible to do so in the first place. “Wait there a minute. I’ll go and call some skilled people who can get moving right away. Don’t you dare go on your own! Understand?!” Dine went running off.
Menel, Ghelreis, and I looked at each other and laughed out loud.
◆
All across the land, forests home to elves were held to be inviolable territory. I could give all kinds of reasons, but the simplest and most powerful one was that most elves who kept guard over a forest were excellent hunter-warriors or elementalists. Opposing the race of elves within a forest meant a brutal death. Specifically, you would be chased around like a hunter’s prey, unable to get any real sleep, and after being toyed with by the fairies, you would become food for the animals. Therefore, elven forests were off-limits, sacred territory feared and respected by all races.
The elven settlement in Lothdor, however, didn’t have very many strong warriors or elementalists. This made sense; the main hunter-warriors and elementalists among them had apparently died in battle, boldly fighting the demons during the collapse of the Union Age. In elven society, that was a severe loss, because elves typically lived long lives and didn’t bear many children.
Things got even worse after that, when the forest was cursed by a Taboo Word and the fall of the Iron Country left it isolated. Due to the roaming monsters and the poison, even food was difficult to come by and the fairies’ power was weakened. There was no way they could raise any new warriors or elementalists under those circumstances. And from what I heard, the few talented elves who survived the Great Collapse attempted contact with the outside, only to fail and never return.
Now that I thought about it, some of the corpses in that murky river were only partially rotten. If those remains had been two hundred years old, they would surely have all been bones by now... which could only mean one thing.
Furthermore, due to the fall of the Iron Country, the supply of weapons had dried up, so metal products seemed to be very precious. There were even people using stone arrowheads or spears with stone blades, as if it were the Stone Age.
I could see that if beasts had claimed the Lord of the Woods’ domain in circumstances like this, there was no way that the elves could reclaim it very easily. In fact, I thought it was impressive enough that despite being put in such a stressful situation, they had still managed to keep things under control and continue sending people out without giving up on contacting the outside. It felt as though they had already stepped some distance over the line where a human settlement would have long since collapsed.
“So, the beasts that have taken over the domain are bug-type beasts... devil-bugs, I think they’re called...” We were walking through a forest of dead trees under a cloudy sky. Dine had accompanied us in the end, joined by four elven hunters. “The defensive strength of the giant earwigs with their hard shells is hard to deal with...”
“Ah! These, right?! I’ll do my best!”
“Mm. This will be good training, young master.”
Al smashed them with his Immense halberd as they appeared. The ones he missed were crushed by Ghelreis’s Sword-smasher mace.
“Then there are the purple poison moths that come down from the sky...”
“Right.” Telperion’s silver string sang a high-pitched, beautiful note in Menel’s hand as it was pulled back and then released. The approaching poison moth was shot perfectly through its weakest point and fell to earth.
“Ah, watch out, poison scales...”
“Sure, sure.”
Without even an incantation from Menel, the wind scattered the scales according to his will.
They were hardly having any difficulty. As the three of them cleared away the giant bugs, Dine stood there dumbfounded. The other elves were equally surprised. But there was nothing particularly surprising about it. This threat wasn’t significant enough to destroy an already seriously weakened elven village. These three hadn’t trained themselves so weakly that this would give them a hard time.
“There’s nothing for us to do, is there?” I said, smiling wryly.
“Standing by’s important,” Reystov admonished me.
He was right; the reason Al, Menel, and Ghelreis could focus on what was in front of them and go all out was because we were standing on alert behind them. This was an important role in itself. But ultimately, I remained in that role all the way into the domain, where we were confronted with the sight of so many cocoons and larvae that it almost got a “blergh” out of me.
Menel cleared it up. He poured some strength back into the Lord of the Woods. The noxious air began to clear. Power returned to the forest. The elves cheered. And still I hadn’t gotten anything at all to do.
It made me feel kind of... itchy.
“Maybe I should have gotten in on the action...”
“You know, for how calm you look, you can be real bloodthirsty sometimes.”
I looked away.
◆
The large trees, which had been covered in revolting bugs and started to die, regained a little of their vitality. The elves were openly displaying their joy, but gradually their beaming expressions began to fade, and before I realized it, looks of shame had taken their place.
“William, are you sure this was okay?” Dine asked the question that seemed to be on all of their minds.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“If the dragon or the demons notice you because you’ve done this...”
“We’ll be in big trouble.” I nodded. That would definitely be bad. We were already at the western foot of the mountain range. Now that we had drawn so close, it would be difficult for them to immediately move all their forces positioned on the east side over to the west, but even so, what we had done was still risky.
“Then you—”
“However—” I put a hand up and stopped Dine as she tried to argue further. “Abandoning this village at this stage would be even more unthinkable. Who knows how many of you could die by the time we get back.”
Poison, monsters, food, resources—the factors that could lead to someone dying in this place were too numerous to list. Furthermore, it was possible that we wouldn’t be able to return at all. As long as we were going to be fighting, we intended to win, but only a fool wouldn’t give any consideration to what might happen should he lose.
“So this is fine.”
Just as I’d declared to the god of undeath, I had no intention of abandoning anyone in order to win. I’d made an oath to that effect, and I intended to keep it. And that was why my god was providing me with such extraordinary protection. It was far too late to contemplate breaking that oath.
“Are you sure?”
“I swear on the flame of the goddess, I don’t regret it.”
That’s right. I didn’t regret it. Judging by the prickling feeling on the back of my neck, things probably hadn’t turned out very well, but I was prepared for that, and I had been ever since the day I chose this way of living. Only...
“Al, Reystov, and Ghelreis... I’m sorry for getting you involved in my personal business.”
Menel aside, this hadn’t had much to do with the other three. I bowed my head to them, thinking that they might not have a very good opinion of me.
“I knew you would do this, so please don’t let it play on your mind, sir,” Al said. “Without you, Sir Will, I wouldn’t even have reached this place to begin with. I’d probably have died on the way.” He smiled.
“The young master is quite correct.” Ghelreis nodded slowly with his usual stern face.
“Yeah,” said Reystov. “Nothing new there. Anyway, if I know you, you’re planning on going right now. I packed already.”
Reystov understood my pattern of behavior. I was grateful for that.
“What? Right... now?”
“Yes. Can you show us the way to the nearest underground path? Oh, we’ll be abandoning the boat, so please do what you want with the cargo and food we can’t carry with us. We’ve also left a simple map.”
If I’d just said, “You can have these,” there was a chance that the elves wouldn’t accept them, so I was going to leave it all behind to give them no choice. If one of the elves used our boat to go upstream, return to the lake, and head towards the city by the lakeside, Gus would probably attend to the rest as he saw fit. My grandpa was proficient in Elvish and also knew that our city was located downriver.
Dine still hadn’t replied.
“If we’ve been noticed by the enemy, speed will be of the essence,” I prompted. “So please make it quick.”
“Alright.” Dine nodded and looked around at the other elves behind her as if to check something with them. Then she turned back to us. “I’ll send one of us back to the village to inform everyone. So please, take us with you. We should at least be good as decoys or shields.”
They all wore the same expression of steadfast resolve. Menel opened his mouth to reply, but I forestalled him. “We don’t want you,” I said, dismissing their resolve out of hand. “You’re too weak.”
I thought I heard them quietly gasp. Though I’d called them “recovered,” that only meant that I’d removed the toxins and miasma inside their bodies. The physical strength lost by being poisoned for so long couldn’t be recovered by benediction. Even these, the finest fighters among them, didn’t look well in the face.
“We can’t afford dead weight.” I was firm about it.
Dine scrunched up her face. “You’ve done so much for us, and you want us simply to show you the way into a death trap?”
“Yes.”
“This is so humiliating,” Dine muttered, furrowing her brow and looking as though she had just taken a bite of something terribly bitter. “But... alright... fine. We’ll abide by your decision.”
The elves behind her began to protest.
“But Dinelind...”
“Don’t you think this is rather...”
But Dine turned back to them and said, “Surely you don’t think we should turn our eyes from our own powerlessness and compound our shame?” Those words silenced them. “Right now, we can’t do anything to change the fact that we’re weaklings in poor health. We’re weaklings...” It sounded as though she was trying to convince herself.
“It’s this way,” she said, and started walking. “Follow me.”
I got a slight glimpse of her violet eyes. She was fighting back tears of frustration.
Menel whispered to me. “Hey, Will... you know I could’ve...”
“No. I was the right one to say it.” Menel had probably been intending to take that unenviable job and make himself the bad guy, but I thought that would probably be far too cruel.
◆
It was a set of strange metal doors fitted into an enormous stone arch. A mixture of dwarven construction and elven ornamentation, the doors had countless Signs engraved upon them in an ancient style of writing. Toxic miasma seeped out of small gaps around their edges.
“The West Gate... I never thought the day would come when I would come here again,” Ghelreis murmured with feeling.
“So this is the entrance to the Iron Country...” Al gazed at the doors and spent a while in silence with his lips drawn together. No one said anything for a while. Ghelreis hadn’t been back home in two hundred years, and for Al, this was the first time.
“You’re really going through here?”
“Yes.” I placed poison-resistance magic and blessings on each of us. Menel added to that by summoning some assistance from the elementals of air, gathering clean and fresh air into our surroundings. Reystov cast his eyes around cautiously, while Ghelreis and Al gave their undivided attention to a final inspection of their gear.
As they worked, I gave the doors a look-over. They had a large door knocker made of metal that was fashioned after a flower. Several large Signs that were engraved near it were now quite worn away. I read them carefully.
“Pulsate et aperietur vobis.”
On a closer look, the doors were made of an evil-warding metal that no one knew how to smelt any longer, and not only that, multiple blessings had also been placed upon them. They were the kind of doors that would inflict serious damage upon the minions of the evil gods if they so much as carelessly approached them, let alone knocked. They were doors made with the advanced technology of the Union Age, which were impossible to recreate with the world’s current level of technology.
“Al, knock,” I said to my gentle, black-haired friend. “That’s the sign.”
“Sir Will, umm, you want me to be the one to do it?”
“Who better?” He was the true successor to the lost Iron Country; there could be no one with the right to open these doors other than him. “This job should be yours.”
“Okay...” Al went quiet as if hesitating for a while. Eventually, he pushed his lips into a thin line, and made his way towards the doors. He was tall for a dwarf, but standing next to the enormous doors, he looked very small. He took a single deep breath, took hold of the door knocker, and with a serious manner, he struck the doors twice, producing two deep, resonant sounds.
The Words engraved upon the doors shone, and the structure enclosing the doors rumbled. Slowly, weightily, as though welcoming us in with both arms spread wide, the huge doors opened—
That instant, a powerful chill ran down my spine. My entire body stiffened, and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. A single image was thrust into my mind.
A gold reptilian eye staring at us.
Pierced by its glare, I felt my heart tighten as though it were being slowly squeezed. My legs trembled. I felt like I was going to fall to my knees. My breathing grew ragged and heavy. Instinct grabbed reason’s collar with all its strength and screamed madly into its face: Run. Run, run, run! Abandon everything and run right now! You can’t win!
Then I noticed the others. They were on their knees, clutching their chests. It looked as though several of the elves had already passed out. The golden eye in my mind narrowed as its stare grew more murderous. The pressure increased further. My mind was scrambled by worry and fear. My knees started to buckle.
I clenched my teeth. Tensing up all the muscles in my body, I opened my eyes wide and dug both my feet into the ground. I calmed the stormy sea inside my heart and forced my ragged breathing under control.
“Fortia!!”
I shouted out the Word that meant bravery and strength. At the same time as the influence of the Word spread like a wave through the space surrounding me, there was a sudden release of pressure inside my head, and the image of the golden eye vanished without a trace. I breathed heavily. It was gone. I could sense nothing.
But I knew he was grinning.
◆
“So we were noticed...”
This wasn’t the work of demons. Even a demon with the rank of Commander, no, even a King probably couldn’t perform a feat like that. I hadn’t felt such a sense of despair and pressure since the god of undeath’s Echo. And it had taken no more than a look. Without a doubt, this was the work of the dragon. It was the foul-dragon from the age of the gods, whose power even the gods recognized and whom Stagnate had predicted would be my death.
“Calamity’s Sickle, the foul-dragon Valacirca...”
The demons aside, I’d never expected to be able to cheat my way to a victory against the dragon. I’d felt a prickling on the back of my neck immediately after we’d purified the Lord of the Woods, so I’d even had a vague awareness that we’d been detected. I’d known it—but I hadn’t expected Valacirca to be this far off the scale.
Menel breathed very deeply and hit his own quivering legs over and over, cursing at them. Reystov was breathing slowly and steadily. His hand was gripped very, very tightly around the handle of his sword. Ghelreis and Al had just about managed to prevent themselves from collapsing by leaning against one of the doors.
When I turned around, I saw that all of the elves had passed out with the exception of Dine. Even she had sunk to the ground and was shaking heavily and weeping.
That malicious gaze from below the earth was so harmful on its own that “devastating” would be too tame a word. So this was a dragon, and this was what it meant to oppose a dragon. I’d been expecting it, but I couldn’t help shivering at just how far removed from everything else it was. Demidragons and dragons were nothing alike. This dragon was probably even above the god of undeath’s Echo in terms of power.
“You... You’re going to fight... this?” Dine murmured in shock.
“Yes. That’s why we came.”
I looked up at the reddish-brown mountains to which we’d drawn so close. I thought of the peaceful scenery of Whitesails and Torch Port. I thought about the whiteness of the sails traveling back and forth on the river and sea, the cheery shanties, the bustle of people putting their all into their daily labor, the daily activity that ought to continue a long time into the future.
“To take back the mountains. To take back peace.”
I gripped the handle of Pale Moon once again. The spear, which I’d grown quite accustomed to by now, fit snugly into my palm just as it had when I first laid hand on it. I incanted a single Word and lit up the blade.
Everyone had already regrouped without me saying anything. With their weapons in hand, they had picked themselves up and were standing firm. It struck me how ready they looked. Those were the resolved expressions of warriors.
“So, we’ll be going,” I said.
“Don’t sweat it, we’ll make it back alive somehow.”
“Yeah. Just another job.”
“I’ll do my best...”
“Mm.”
We all offered a parting remark, and headed for the open doors together. Beyond, the creepy entrance to a pitch-black tunnel awaited us like a gaping maw.
“Wait.” It was Dine’s voice. As I turned around, she shakily rose to her feet and looked directly at us. Her face was pale, but still she gracefully placed a palm over her heart. “We elves of Lothdor will not forget this debt. I swear here to our creator, Rhea Silvia. One day, we will repay your kindness.” She smiled, as though giving us her blessing. “May the protection of the good gods and the spirits of courage be with you wherever you go.”
All of us replied with a smile and a nod. And then we walked. Into the stone tunnels of the dwarves, the roots of the Rust Mountains, the ruins of the once-prosperous Iron Country, the downward slope of darkness—
We walked forward, never turning back.
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