Chapter 48
Chapter 48
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 48
Chapter Title: Prophecy and the Star God Church
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Kane shot me a look that said, "Here we go again," but I stood my ground with confidence.
Hey, what was wrong with it? Right?
I did foresee the future, after all. Whether through the monitor or the traits, I saw what I saw.
"R-Really?"
Hula was so shocked that her long ears, hidden behind her hair until now, twitched visibly.
"If it wasn't true, how would I know about the prophet's existence? Something you kept so tightly under wraps."
"Th-That... It couldn't be, but what if there's a traitor among us...?"
Hula hesitated, testing me once more with her rebuttal. I took a moment to steady my breath before replying.
"The Albino. The deer tribe with pure white bodies all over, right? That's the prophet."
Hula's already wide-open mouth gaped even further.
In the original story, the Albino beastkin possessed a special trait, which had sparked wars in the past. As a result, their births were kept secret, so few knew their appearance.
My guess seemed spot on. Now with genuine belief in her eyes, Hula responded.
"It's a fact known only to the chieftains of the top tribes—those who would never betray the secret... You really are a seer."
I brushed off Luna's gaze screaming, "As expected of our young master!" and Zero's, "I knew it! He wasn't an ordinary person!"
"So that's why I came here—to prevent this land's tragedy. I knew Chabide was short on food. The slave hunters, too."
Obvious info, but the trick was delivering it without sounding obvious.
We spurred our mounts onward, and the wind rushed past.
Tilting my head just a bit to glance at Hula, the setting sun cast its glow across my cheek, thanks to the earth-bound light.
"Chabide needs to change. It's the only way everyone survives."
"Change...?"
"Yeah. How long do you plan to live in instability just because the land is barren?"
The beast king would unite them in a few years anyway. Speeding it up myself wouldn't cause any issues, right?
I met Hula's eyes and smiled slowly.
"Chabide must become one."
The astronomical amount of money that would take?
I'd foot the bill.
Currency might collapse in about ten years anyway.
Piling up money like mountains in the Kruger family would mean nothing then.
'Money's meant to be spent.'
I shifted my gaze forward again and urged my mount toward Luna's tribe.
* * *
"Is this... racial discrimination?"
"No way."
We still had a long way to go to Luna's tribe, so we decided to camp for the night. I tasked Zero with cooking alone.
'What the hell is this?'
I'd helped Luna with meals the past few days and trusted the trait, but...
He brought back pitch-black grass mush.
It even had a slightly funky smell...
Grass and mushrooms boiled together—why the off odor?
"I'm a goat beastkin, but I'm not an actual goat. I love meat."
"I like meat too."
"Uh... Can we actually eat this?"
Zero beamed innocently, his face free of any guilt, in response to our complaints.
"It's delicious!"
"Better than green juice, at least."
Kane said it stone-faced as he ladled himself a bowl first.
Even as the black mage's test subject, and after escaping, Kane had rummaged through trash bins if it meant not starving to death.
"Well... Yeah. He eats green juice..."
Luna joined in. In the end, the mood forced me to take a bowl too. I sat Hula down, who offered to go hunting even now, and handed her one.
If it's really bad, I can pull jerky or cheese from my subspace. Wonder why Zero didn't change at all.
After mentally preparing, deep breath, spoon up a bite.
"Hm?"
"Eh."
"Can't believe it..."
Everyone but Kane chimed in—me, Luna, Hula.
Traits, talent—they're cheats, for real.
"It's good, right? Real cooking is magical. With a little effort, even simple ingredients turn delicious."
Zero ate enthusiastically, thrilled by our reactions, while Hula chugged her bowl with a "Why is this tasty?" look.
No, really—that faint funky aroma was like a stroke of genius. The more I ate, the more it tasted like fermented cheese or miso, making my mouth water.
The mushrooms were chewy, and the finely minced veggies, though simmered soft, retained a fun texture without turning to mush.
Whatever spice combo he used turned the grassy smell into a subtle, nutty cheese-like note. A sweet finish lingered.
I pulled bread from my subspace, toasted it over the fire, and shared it, dipping into the green soup.
"One more bowl!"
Hula tapped the ground with her hooves, thrusting her bowl at Zero. I slyly extended mine too.
Ah, why is this so good, seriously.
Pure talent. Instinctively nailing fire control, spice blends, everything.
I took in Zero's pleased gaze as he watched us devour his cooking.
Gotta keep the cooking alive while awakening his other traits.
After the meal, we gathered around the campfire and started grilling jerky for dessert. Hula tried to slip away, seeming overwhelmed by us, but the aroma of my grilling jerky lured her back.
"With just one artifact like that, you could pull warriors from food storage duty to hunt slave hunters..."
"Since it came up, how about sharing info on that?"
I tossed out the topic casually while tearing into well-grilled jerky glistening with fat.
"The damn slave hunters—I could talk for three days straight and not cover it all. Anyway, their true nature... You mind spilling, Seol?"
Hula eyed me, then brightened at the jerky piece I offered and chomped down before asking.
"First, tell us what you know about them."
At the slave hunter talk, Luna's face grew somber, and Kane's brows furrowed slightly.
Zero, unmoved as it didn't hit home yet, just munched jerky while watching us.
"Their groups vary in size. They're clearly different slave caravans, but lately they act like they're all from the same outfit. It's weird."
Hula fixed her gaze on the crackling campfire.
"Hate to say it, but beastkin have always been in high demand as slaves across the continent."
"No central nation tracks births or deaths, and proving affiliation is tough."
"Right. Even if you claim it's your tribesman and demand them back, they ask for proof, and you hesitate. They cut out tattoos marking tribe membership, heal the wounds, then sell."
Her face screamed for booze, but my subspace had water, not alcohol. I'd filled that space with more grains instead.
Hula gulped water like liquor and sighed.
"To them, we're just merchandise. So they fatten us up until we meet 'shipping' conditions—routine stuff. They even limit kidnappings per year to keep prices high."
Knowing this much meant she'd clashed with them plenty. I listened silently, watching Hula.
"But the last few years, things have gotten bizarre. Slave hunters treat fellow humans as goods too, but with us, it was like livestock—let us roam free to grow. Now..."
She ground her teeth. Hula's eyes reflected the fire, glowing like embers.
"Now they act like they want to wipe out our seed. They take all kids, kill adults too tough to drag off. And burning food stores? They never did that before."
Chabide is vast. Small tribes hearing rumors flee to top or rival tribe areas for protection, but family-sized wanderers struggle even to get the news.
I could guess the reason.
"Anything else off?"
At my question, Hula pondered, then spoke as if recalling something.
"Come to think of it... Chabide isn't just beastkin or demihumans. Humans live here too. Hunters kill them on sight, carve weird symbols, then burn the bodies."
"What did you just say?"
Kane, who'd been poking the fire, looked up at Hula.
His golden eyes shimmered amber in the flickering flames, making Hula swallow dryly without thinking.
"When they find... fellow humans, they draw weird symbols on the ground and burn them."
"Remember the shape? The method?"
I chimed in softly. Hula glanced at Kane, then grabbed a twig from the firewood pile and scratched the dirt.
On the day we headed to Kane's homeland, he'd told that story—no symbols or marks mentioned.
'But I know.'
The Evil God Cult's massacres are offerings to their god. Like most religions, they have their symbol—drawn on floors or ceilings for offerings, or carved into statues.
A split image like horns branching in two, with two swords crossing to stab downward, a diamond nestled between the crossed sword hilts.
"Probably like this. So we figured the horn-like split below—maybe a reclining crescent—represents beastkin or demihumans, and the two swords mean humans."
They must've thought it was punishment for humans daring to live in non-human lands.
Kane glared at the crude drawing, then looked at me.
As if asking if I'd known and brought him here on purpose.
'It wasn't at first, but after meeting Hula, it was a bonus.'
True goal was showing Luna her family before dragging her to worse places. I hadn't planned on Hula.
"Fine. I'll share what I know."
I drained the now-warm water I'd held by the fire, extended my hands for warmth, and spoke.
"I call them the Evil God Cult, and they seem to call themselves that too."
The Star God Church.
* * *
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Bervert."
Discomfort crossed Gadia's usually composed face.
The girl's words sounded like another world's tongue.
"Sister, really. What do you mean? Such simple truth."
She covered her pink lips with both hands and laughed brightly.
"Isn't it? Why call them demihumans? They're inferior goods that failed to become human. Never thought they exist to perfect us?"
The era of human supremacy. All demihumans as slaves—only natural, right?
"Tails, scales—disgusting to look at. How could that be God's will?"
"Bervert. That's your god's word. The continent's polytheistic. Everyone has their faiths—that's heresy."
Even the Empire had a state religion but didn't deny polytheism. Gadia paled at Bervert's monotheistic talk.
"They just don't know our god is the one true deity. Know this? They call our world a star. Our god sits on the throne of that star."
"You speak as if the god lives, Bervert. Snap out of it. What cult has you so enthralled?"
Gadia had monitored her, fearing some fringe cult, but learning more chilled her.
'Definitely not a small sect.'
"Senior. Humans have commoners and nobles—different blood. Isn't it weird for filthy demihumans to live better than commoners? Humans are already perfect as is."
Bervert's pale, slender fingers—tips rosy as rose petals—gently brushed Gadia's hair.
"Open your heart, senior. Not just for you to know."
Bervert's fluffy, soft brown hair swayed as her red lips neared Gadia's ear, whispering a soft laugh.
"Our god lives, senior."
The one and only living god in this world.