A Year of Peace and Eternal Vows
Gardriel Island. "The elves are still not making any moves," Mortis told everyone. It seemed they'd completely lost interest in the sea. The descent of the Maou must have been that shocking to them—especially since it was awakened by an elf. Were they holding their breath, fearing the sparks might fly their way? Or perhaps they were too busy fortifying their defenses, wary that the Maou might come by sea. Either way, the ocean had been peaceful for months. The merchant fleets with surviving ships kept trading, and pirates kept crawling out of the woodwork like cancer cells.
It was a ridiculous situation where Zan de Radgerda, now saddled with the grandiose title of Pirate Empress after slaying the Pirate King, had to handle it all. Admiral Shark was taking ships out periodically to wipe out pirates, but the thought of doing that for the rest of her life left Zan sighing nonstop. At least the elves weren't involved—that was a small mercy. Looking back, Hornigold had probably goaded her into fighting "elves" too. He'd have figured dying to a single elf was preferable to just dying outright. He must have been confident her husband could massacre hordes of elves without losing to one.
"Haa..." Bartholomew Kidd had set off on his sea voyage to find survivors of the Montagu clan, etching it into his logbook. To her, he was just a hot-headed kid whose blood hadn't even dried, but he was over twenty, an adult, and he'd proven his worth in that battle. Riko, who'd chased after him to sea for her own adventures, was probably roaming somewhere on the waves by now. He'd boarded the ship promising to find Montagu survivors so Circe could be even happier. He'd even asked Mortis to come along... but with the workload even she and Shark couldn't handle alone despite splitting it three ways, she'd politely declined. Deep down, though, it was because she had no reason to venture to sea anymore. Her long pirate life had reached its end—no need for an encore.
"I'm your party member, after all." Riko was a party member too, by that logic... but he'd joined solely for Circe from the start. All she could do was wish him well.
Months passed, seasons changed. Brushing fresh white snow from the graves, she strolled with Circe, admiring the winter seascape. Her body had fully recovered—no more mobility issues. When Circe tried to wait on her hand and foot, Zan grumbled about witches treating the thing between her legs like mere decoration and scolded her to let her help.
"Beautiful."
"ᚤᛖᛋ"
During breaks, she'd learned the common tongue from me, and I'd picked up runes for her. Circe always smiled delightedly whenever we mixed them up. With some weight off her shoulders, she acted spoiled more often—suddenly hugging tight, wrapping her tentacles around and clinging like a vine. When the witches bluntly asked how many kids she wanted—without a shred of tact, practically begging—her face turned coral-red as she held up five fingers.
"Five?"
She shook her head.
"...Fifty?"
Another shake. With immortality on the table, Zan figured five hundred might be her real number... and Circe was already scheming alternative clan revival methods. When she said all boys would be ideal, the witches chimed in that they'd love that too, trying to spike every meal with aphrodisiacs—truly troublesome on all fronts. Aside from me, it was a peaceful sea.
A year had passed since venturing to sea. Taming the chaos after the Pirate King's death had been grueling. Luckily, his hoarded treasure kept money troubles at bay. Practically allied with the Trust Union, they got adventurer support and aid from the All Gods Temple. With Hecate's temple there, mages occasionally sailed in seeking witch tutelage. As exchanges grew, they'd blend naturally into ordinary lives—singing praises of peace, laughing joyfully...
"Yummy."
As always, I offered Circe fruit from the World Tree sapling; she took it happily, nibbling like a hamster. Meanwhile, I'd been practicing with the [Hecate's Rope] Hornigold claimed to have from the Goddess of Magic. Like the [Sea Triton], this divine artifact wouldn't break, extended infinitely, and once bound, never loosened. Even infusing the Bopal Weapon with mana and swinging didn't snap it. Well, my skill was lacking too. Losing an arm slashed my options. The recoil from borrowed power was immense, and over-reliance on abilities left gaps despite good synergy.
I'd practiced kicks Hornigold taught me on rocks whenever time allowed. Considering Levitfoot leg strength, mine should outdo his destructive force... but I couldn't shake the memory of his final sun-shattering kick. Trying to mimic that hazy vision only plunged me deeper into confusion.
I'd offered to return the Sea Triton and Sea King's Crown, but she insisted giving the Triton to her mate was kingdom custom—with odd pressure. Ropes for binding were fine too, but was that its purpose? Circe stuffed the remaining fruit in her mouth, saying she couldn't wait to meet Ms. Larirure. Then she asked me to play the tune from the graveside again. The danso seemed unknown here. She'd tried practicing, lips pursed cutely, but failed. Stroking her head for the adorable effort earned a pout—she hated being babied. Could I turn the guardian tree into an instrument? Was this red bamboo meant for that?
As I played, spirits gathered. At Mortis and Zan's request, I'd blessed the island for crops and fruit trees. Sea breezes and skies like paradise—Hecate's blessing made winter winds warm. Thanks to freed wind spirits? Or blue orca-like water spirits frolicking offshore? The forest blessing revived vanished spirits, swirling around the isle. Circe's joy at reuniting with water spirits... playing in the sea with "kids," she seemed less witch-princess, more runaway princess.
Those spirits flocked to the fleeting melody. A poignant tune laced with lingering sorrow, on the verge of scattering. The song titled Biik Yeonri—a school skill for danso I'd learned by chance. Never dreamed I'd play it for the dead.
A bird with one wing, unable to fly alone—pairing male and female to soar.
Two trees from different roots, branches entwining into one.
Biikjo and Yeonri—words embodying lovers' unbreakable bond.
Lush forest winds in verdant green swirled flowers blooming around me. Flower spirits danced like fairies. Here, my instrument skill had grown most—infusing emotion, pouring heart into silent play. No intent behind the grand revival: forest reborn, earth blessed, spirits awakened like a bard's skill.
Only after it ended did Mortis approach quietly. "A heartbreaking song. Didn't know you played so well."
"This is all I can handle."
Hornigold liked it, Circe wanted it—practice expanded my repertoire. "Know anything about Gardriel Island?"
"Yeah."
From the [Hands Collector] incident. A killer executed ten years ago revived. Around then, the Human Species Massacre here. Death Island near Borev Kingdom, uninhabited... hearing that started Borev's fall, tangling everything into a mess.
"Info on humans living there—from All Gods Temple. Details scarce..."
"Heading there, then."
"And time to go back."
No elf threats—time to return to Trust Union. To the fond Laurel Guild outpost at South Gate... after a year. Ship ready, departing hours later—prepare, she said, turning from the grave. "Radamu, live as long as possible."
"...I'll outlive you, Mortis. Constellations gave me 10,000 years."
"...Didn't know. Cruel fate."
Even 500 years tormented her; 10,000 was unimaginable. Heroes endure such spans? He might, being strong... but she knew long life rots the heart for immortals.
Seeing her darken, Radamu reassured her, smiling. "I'll live one day longer than you, Mortis. I'll stay by your side."
"...A confession? Hehe. Promise? Then, we'll stop interrupting. Say bye to Zan too."
Her expression lightened; don't overdo it, either way, she added, leaving. Twenty years lived, 10,000 ahead. Daunting.
"Living like a lion isn't so bad. Love pains, torments, maddens... but it's surely beautiful."
"How was the sea? Vast, embracing all—but chaotic too."
"Hecate blesses this kingdom as enshrined goddess. With her grace and witches... rest a bit easier."
"To the hero restoring sea's balance and peace: tickets galore~"
Ten Constellation Tickets, five [Reroll Tickets], five Transfer Tickets... immense. Twenty total. Goddess said fixing sea's balance, Hecate's thanks, slight fate-scale shift—karma piled high, her blessing. But I couldn't rejoice. Clutching them, I hesitated.
"Goddess, if all karma, can [Fate's Blessing] convert to something else?"
"...Indeed. I respect your will. Extend your hand."
Without words, she knew—reaching as if reading my heart. Palm to sky, clouds parted; light formed a figure. Hecate's magic goddess turned tickets to karma-light orb—rainbow aurora of mana swirled the isle, condensing to a small ring on my hand. No words; she smiled at us, ascending in light.
"──A message. 'Be happy,' she says."
Aquamarine ring gleaming beautifully. Hecate's grace and Fate Goddess's blessing—a divine ring radiating light, sea-infused hue. Lifting it, I offered my hand; Circe placed hers gently. The goddess relic slipped on her slender arm, aurora blessing us like twin divinities.
"...Honestly, no confidence."
Lame words. Women, love—never cared much. But I understood hearts' importance. Twenty tickets paled against this noblest treasure. Priceless among sea-found gems.
"I'll take responsibility, Circe."
No reply needed—she'd asked already. Scratched pearl ring from battle contrasted the gem's beauty. Exchanged bands sparkled in sunlight. Ending a year-long voyage, feeling growth, I embraced her leap into my arms. We lingered until Prince Castella's cough parted us.
"Bro!! I'll get strong quick and catch up!!!"
"Take care."
Leaving Hyacinth with Admiral Shark, with Mortis and Castella—the swordsman craving world adventures—we boarded amid witches' farewells, island receding.
"Wonder if sis Larirure'll welcome us."
Her letter scolded like a nagging wife about two women—what a punk. I wasn't aiming for Captain Igloo heroism. Even goddess pushed "live like a lion!"—my choice.
"Lots to introduce you to, Circe."
"Yeah."
Verdant sea, warm sun—beautiful isle. Sea exploration ended. Gained much, learned more. Cherished memories ahead, I gazed skyward. A gentle winter.