Chapter 329
Chapter 329
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: Can One Who Has Seen the End of the World Plant an Apple Tree? (34)
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****
“You’re here? Fishing.... Still got some leisure time, huh?”
“Ah, it’s you? How are you feeling?”
“Well, as you can see? That troll Notum’s healing went beyond the bounds of common sense.”
Rakshasha answered by lightly leaping onto the railing beside the ottoman like a cat.
Rakshasha was the head of an assassin guild, and as such, she often got injured, giving her extensive knowledge of wounds. Based on that knowledge, her injuries had been life-threatening.
That was before Notum laid hands on her.
“It felt less like healing and more like.... handing something off for repairs? I’ve never even imagined treatment like that.”
“Ho ho ho ho. There are hardly any humans who’ve experienced a forest troll’s healing rites, so that’s only natural.”
She had been bound by the snakes sprouting from Nigmi’s arms, and her body had been crushed so badly that even one of the strongest bones in a human—the femur—had snapped. It was an injury that threatened her life, and even if she survived, she’d be left with severe aftereffects.
Thanks to the excruciating pain and her iron will, she’d barely clung to consciousness.
In her fading senses, Rakshasha had suddenly felt a hand clearly grabbing the nape of her neck.
‘Can’t go any further. Stay here.’
She still wasn’t sure if it had been a dream or hallucination, but that memory was crystal clear.
So, this troll shaman had caught her departing soul in her own soul jar, briskly mended the empty shell of a body, then shoved the soul back in.
“I was watching from the side, and even I nearly lost my soul at the sight. When I asked how far it could go, she said dead people’s souls and bodies are severed, so even if you shove it back in, it just bounces right out.”
“Then.... conversely, that means as long as they don’t die, you can save them?”
“Notum’s always had incredible talent. Talent so astonishing you wouldn’t believe it even seeing it with your own eyes....”
It was so incredible that the troll ancestral spirits from her green-skinned homeland in the southern forests had swarmed all the way to Lordric in the inland heartlands, clamoring to teach her.
Heaven-touching talent. Innate intelligence. And plenty of trials to hammer those gifts into shape, plus excellent mentors.
Notum was a soul shaman too. While others in the empire recoiled from Professor or marveled at Gainax splitting the heavens, Notum had watched the three families of the Telddmeyer line meet their end through a soul shaman’s eyes.
That moment had set the path for Notum’s boundless talent. As a soul shaman wielding forest troll nature rites. Deep in her heart, she’d etched how to wield them, as a benevolent being.
“Gerruk!”
“Kirruk! Kirruruk!”
As the two conversed, laughter from the hatchling siblings echoed from the deck’s edge. Notum, emerging from the cabin with her recovery alongside Rakshasha’s, climbed up with the two lizards clinging to her like reptiles.
“You seem close with them.”
“Gruuu. Babies, cute. Young creatures, stick close, protect.”
“Looks like her maternal instincts awakened after the empire incident. She says once this is over—once the mutants are dealt with—she’ll return home and start a family.”
“....That’s a relief. I was worried what would happen to them if something happened to me. She’s reliable.”
Rakshasha wore an expression of relief as she watched the two siblings crawl fearlessly over Notum’s ferocious form—shoulders, waist, everywhere uncovered.
Ottoman found it hard to understand Rakshasha gazing at the siblings with eyes like a parent’s.
“By any chance, do you know how you’re fated to connect with them?”
“....Pardon?”
“No particular reason. Just curious. Their faces alone are easily five times uglier than mine, so it doesn’t seem like mere duty from inheriting the Shadow Moon leader’s position.... Hmm....”
“Too affectionate? Overly devoted?”
“Well.... It does look that way, doesn’t it?”
Splash!
Ottoman turned his head, embarrassed by his twitching rod, and spoke. He hadn’t seen it himself amid the chaos on Nullak’s flagship, but according to the crew, blood-soaked Rakshasha had been dragged off by the snake woman yet desperately hurled the two siblings onto the Dry Oasis to protect them.
That seemed excessive for mere duty.
“Hmm, it’s a bit hard to explain.”
“If it’s something you’d rather keep hidden, no need to say. I just needed conversation fodder.”
“No, it’s not that—it’s genuinely hard to explain.”
Leaning on the ship’s railing, Rakshasha watched the hatchling siblings play on the massive troll’s body, chasing each other’s tails.
“....Ottoman? You love the sea, right?”
“I adore it. Enough to bind my entire life to that word.”
“Then, can you explain why you came to love it?”
“That’s....”
“See? It’s hard. That’s how those two are to me.”
It might be the influence of her bloodline, generations in Shadow Moon. Or something else in the desert that shaped her.
What mattered was, the moment Rakshasha joined Shadow Moon and laid eyes on the royal blood she’d only heard of, their history and Shadow Moon’s purpose hadn’t even registered in her ears.
“The instant I saw them, I just knew. Ah, these are the heart of this desert. The foundation of every creature crawling the sands, alive and breathing before my eyes. I must protect them. That’s what hit me.”
“....A bloodline pact? Passed down through the family?”
“Maybe? Legend says my ancestors were granted the honored duty of serving the desert kingdom’s kings long ago, and Shadow Moon guarding the royal blood is an extension of that. But now, it’s more than duty.... I’ve spent too much time with them.”
Ottoman peered into Rakshasha’s eyes as she watched the two hatchling siblings. Not her usual bewitching half-moon smile hiding her thoughts, but eyes filled with pure peace.
“....Hatchlings must have some mechanism that stirs a woman’s maternal instincts. You see yourself as their mother.”
“Maybe. Hmm.... Do you think Professor would dislike me having kids? I know he’s open-minded, but given the circumstances....”
“Ho ho ho ho! Isn’t that a trivial worry for such a situation?”
“It’s the most trivial thing I’ve pondered deepest in my life?”
“Forget what I said earlier. Hmm, it’s important. Very important.... Ho ho ho ho.”
At Rakshasha’s sincere concern, Ottoman burst into hearty laughter.
“Anyone else, I’d think twice, but with Professor, no need.”
“....It’d still be tough?”
“No, quite the opposite. He’ll grumble with that sour face: ‘Should I keep the lizards cool or warm? Rakshasha, what do the kids eat?’ Something like that for sure.”
“Really?”
Ottoman nodded emphatically to Rakshasha’s sparkling eyes.
“I guarantee it. Given his personality, he’ll praise you for doing well but won’t complain. He probably has a few strays he couldn’t ignore. Maybe some quiet countryside village full of adopted sons and daughters calling that Professor friend ‘father’?”
“Exactly, right?”
“Exactly. It’s fate. Ho ho ho ho.”
Splash. Splash splash!
Ottoman nodded, eyeing his wildly dancing line.
****
“Notum! Let’s go over there! The water mage is doing something interesting again!”
“Gruk. That’s fishing. Fishing. Catch fish.”
“Hmm? Aren’t fish caught with nets?”
“Here, ocean. Not shallow like oasis.”
While Rakshasha and Ottoman talked, Notum—having given up on prying off the two lizards clinging to her—approached their railing with Senika and Aldar draped on her.
“Gruk. Water old man, we have much food. No need fish.”
“Hm? I thought the earlier flooding in the hold ruined everything.... Separate provisions?”
“Yes. Pig man gave and ran.”
“Pig man? Oh, Nullak? If Nullak left it.... Notum, was it the box with red tassels?”
“Yes. Pig man packed by his eating standard. Ration: one month. Full: one week.”
Ottoman cleared his throat questioningly at Rakshasha and Notum’s private exchange, and Rakshasha continued the explanation.
“Every ship has one. A box wrapped in red-dyed cloth, for when an unforeseen accident breaks taboo, confirming you as taboo’s target.”
“Throw the taboo target in it?”
“Some do, I hear. Usually, it’s loaded onto a coastal ferry with the taboo target and sent off. Filled with a ship’s best food and drink—a last feast for a comrade awaiting death alone on the sand sea.”
“Oh ho. So...?”
“Yes. During that battle, Nullak must’ve pegged the entire Dry Oasis crew as taboo targets and left it on his flagship for the exiled. Last loyalty as allies: eat this and die together.”
“If Nullak sent his idea of top-tier feast quantities.... That’d feed us all easily.”
“Gruuu. So no food worry yet. Give old man’s fish to kids. Let play.”
“Hm? Ah, no, that won’t do.”
“Gruwuk. Stingy water old man.”
“Not that.... This rod isn’t for catching fish.”
Splash splash—
Ottoman waved off the increasingly thrashing rod and rippling water.
“Ahem, mage. My knowledge is limited; I don’t grasp the meaning. If not catching fish with a fish-catching tool, what then?”
“Ho ho ho. Oh dear.... Little charge, what I mean is....”
“No need for honorifics. Royal blood in name only—a powerless figure.”
“Nonsense. By age, you’re far my senior. Of course I’ll show respect. Anyway, hard to understand.... Care to look around a bit?”
Aldar thought the mage was dodging to avoid handing over the rod, turning to Rakshasha with a scowl. He planned to ask her for another if possible.
“....Kirruk?”
Unlike him and Senika—who couldn’t make sense of it—the crew overhearing had caught on, frowning knowingly. Even Notum and Rakshasha.
“Uh.... Are Senika and I the idiots who don’t get it? Everyone else seems to....”
“Ho ho ho ho. Less that, and more... when something baffling happens, a certain person comes to mind for everyone. You royals will learn naturally traveling with us.”
Rakshasha’s brow furrowed at Ottoman’s infuriatingly leisurely tone. Come to think of it, the noisiest person on the ship was missing.
“....Didn’t he go to the wreck with the crew?”
“Then it’d be noisy there. Things flying, breaking.”
“Then.... No way?”
Rakshasha’s sharp gaze swept Ottoman. His calm smile like still waters. Mana settling quietly around the mage, mimicking that serenity.
What looked like fishing line was a thin stream of water extending from the rod’s tip.
“You don’t mean you sent that guy down there alone—!”
“Rakshasha. How well do you know Professor?”
As Rakshasha raised her voice, realizing where Professor had gone, Ottoman’s low voice cut her off.
“About a year and a half with him. Remarkable guy. Fun. Won’t drop jokes even if the sky falls. Contrary to looks, meticulous and wise; true to looks, reckless and unstoppable.”
“But.... Have you ever seen him truly angry?”
Angry. Professor angry?
‘Agh! That dog bastard!’
‘Damn it! Cursed!’
‘Agh!! Why does every one thing I grab lead to another....!’
She started to say yes, but swallowed at Ottoman’s sunken gaze.
“No.... I haven’t?”
“Right? He spits out frustrations lightly. Too light for true boiling rage. I’ve seen him vent real fury only once.”
When Professor lost reason in the borderlands. Terrified, unable to hold himself, he’d gone mad, even trying to kill his master.
Aside from that—excluding when he truly let go—Professor had never shown outward anger.
“Doesn’t get mad easily? No, that madness and violence then was closer to his essence. Violence grown to rise from endless stacked grudges, fears.... He’s got a past we don’t know, piled high. Professor’s a man with a lot of anger.”
“Then why....”
“Like folks in mosquito-heavy lands ignoring one or two. Those unaccustomed fuss over one; the swarmed grow numb.”
“I haven’t lived as long as our royals, but I’ve seen and heard plenty. Know what soldiers say in war? ‘Hang your waterskin on your belly, not hip—the morning water’ll fill your cracked gut cracks, no resupply needed.’ They laugh. That self-mocking. Professor’s jokes carry it. Far younger than me, yet soaked in cheer from venting grudges till numb. Always lively, jovial. Grieving? Grins. Angry? Grins. Whatever he endured, that grin’s etched on his face.”
Having faced Professor’s raw truth when he lost reason in the borderlands, Ottoman saw his actions differently after. Professor showed a completed human form.
“Before you came to, when Notum treated you—know what Professor did?”
“....”
“You were pitiful. Limbs twisted like a broken doll, blood gushing from your mouth. He saw, then insisted on going down. I offered to come; he said ‘You’ll be frolicking in the sea—no.’ Grinning as always, utterly cheerful. Eyes like he’d butcher folk raw.”
So he hadn’t stopped him. No point.
“He blames everything on himself. So if someone nearby suffers, he grumbles casually and dashes off. And as we know. He wrecks alone.”
Splash, splash splash!
Ottoman gazed distantly at the shaking water stream from his rod’s tip. It stretched to the deep sea below.
No matter how perceptive Professor, he couldn’t surpass his master Ottoman yet.
Natural he missed the subtle water tendril attached just before diving.
“We can’t stop Professor.... So we pull up what that wild rascal hunts.”
He’d surely charge enemy heart alone again; not this time.
“If that Palkatus fixates on Professor, time to teach narrow vision brings ruin.”
Splash splash—
Ottoman smiled contentedly at the thrashing stream.
Reaction meant trouble brewing.
‘Bite. As water mage, Professor won’t fall easy; the moment he abandons stealth for attack—that’s facing real foe.’
On the swelling sea, over faintly glowing blue waters, Ottoman dangled his line patiently.
Waiting for the enemy to bite. The fresh bait called Professor. The moment to haul up Professor, foe, and surrounding sea entire.
****
Bugrrruk—!
‘Gotcha!’
Crunch, grind, squelch!
Like an eel bloated hundreds, thousands-fold?
The beast’s eyes gleamed wildly; sensing no shredded meat between its teeth, it whipped whiskers trembling, glancing about.
‘Whiskers—those caught me!’
[Built like a doomsday weapon, yet slapped with delicate sensors!]
‘Not my fault! Queen mixed ’em in ’cause they looked good!’
Whatever the queen’s mutant system, key now: this mega-whiskered eel hadn’t lucked into my spot—it targeted via sensory basis.
Long, elastic tentacle whiskers quivered flexibly at tiny currents.
‘Got careless inside house—external view blocked, moved rashly. Spooked too. It pinpointed, attacked.’
Blind save sensitive whiskers, it seemed. So, play dead.... Might slip by.
‘....Probably?’
[Wrong, and back in house as dust-meat mash.]
Crunch, grind! Whoosh!
Its elongated muscle-mass body brushed past my motionless form. Vast gills scattered house rubble; it circled the spot long.
[....Going. Really missed us!]
‘Dodged full detection, luckily.’
Prayer worked? Losing interest after circling my spot, the whiskered eel swam leisurely away.
Or tried to.
Guuuuuung—
.
.
.
.
.
Uggruk—
‘....! ...! .....!!! .!!!!’
[Don’t even breathe! Mouth shut!]
‘D-Dead! It just died suddenly!’
Galley-three-generations-long whiskered eel—vanished whoosh.
No, vanished? Sudden force crushed it flat. Living thing planed before eyes. 3D to 2D instant!
[Hey, what’s that.... coming out?]
‘....The house. House from its gut.’
In blink, blood-filth jerky-fied whiskered eel spat stone chunks lining up, merging with sunken pieces—reassembling to original. Minus coral, barnacles in process: desert house with sacred script pristine.
‘....We didn’t touch anything inside, right?’
[No moon-touching. No fighting, no trying shit.]
Obvious source crushing eel: sunken moon lady pissed at someone smashing her collectible.
‘Good didn’t bring others.’
[Yeah? We’d survive flattened....maybe?]
‘Like old arcade scenes.’
Gruesome, but confirmed right spot.
Light of sunken moon pierced coral forest to Professor’s sinking feet, deeper.
Divine power. Dozens kinds blended, incomprehensible.
[....Think our moon lady takes visitors?]
‘Palkatus too, house shows—no killing us.’
[Or shreds, reassembles for display.]
‘Don’t jinx.’
Grrrruk—
Mouth said that, descent didn’t slow.
All answers clearly below, after all.
****