Chapter 12 - Snowy Mountain (3)
"W-why...?"
Orga asked, as if she couldn't believe it.
Deltain had clearly said he would show the tribe what a great person he was.
So why was he choking her now as if he were going to kill her?
Was this what 'lying' was?
Was this what 'betrayal' was?
Orga couldn't hold back her tears at the thoughts welling up.
She started sniffling.
Then Deltain said.
"I'm acting. Follow my lead."
"H-huh?"
"I have to get inside to help you, right? I need to act to get in, so just play along."
Orga rolled her eyes, looking back and forth between Deltain and her father.
Her father was groaning, holding his forehead, while Deltain was grinning.
'Ah!'
It was all an act!
Orga gasped at the sudden realization and replied with a small "Okay!"
Then, she started flailing her legs and said.
"H-help meeeee~."
It was awkward acting.
But the snow blowing on the mountain hid her expression, and the howling wind added a sense of eeriness to her voice.
Deltain looked at the Chief.
In the process, he realized something strange.
'...Why is his expression like that?'
It didn't look like he was worried about his child.
No, it was the opposite, if anything.
The expression of the scrawny man who appeared to be the Chief was just....
'It's the look of someone watching a kid who caused trouble.'
He looked like he had a headache.
This was strange.
He was clearly an uninvited intruder that the tribe should be wary of, and he was holding the next chief hostage.
Yet why were they just sighing as if they were troubled?
Deltain's expression turned subtle.
That was the moment the Chief opened his mouth.
"...First, let the child go. And come in."
As the Chief waved his hand, the translucent barrier disappeared.
Only at the entrance of the village, that is.
Immediately after, the Chief glared at Orga as if to say 'we'll see about this later,' then spoke to Deltain with a stiff face.
"We were waiting for you."
Deltain's brow furrowed.
*
The village they entered wasn't much different from what they had seen from the outside.
Snow covered the roofs of the long huts, and in the center of the main street, there was a round plaza and a large bonfire.
A huge cauldron was placed over the bonfire, boiling something vigorously.
It was the smell of meat.
"...We were preparing a meal. We caught a big one for the first time in a while, and it takes a long time to boil."
At the Chief's words, Deltain let out a dry laugh.
'So....'
It meant that those who had been monitoring him since he entered the snowy mountain were there to disrupt him so he wouldn't reach the village until the meal was ready.
What kind of nonsense was this?
Deltain was dumbfounded and asked.
"How did you know who I was and wait for me?"
"I don't know. The Spirit just told me to serve you, so I'm just following orders."
Deltain's footsteps stopped.
"What?"
"I heard you'd understand if I said it like this."
Meanwhile, Agnes whispered.
"I guess the one in our garden told them."
Deltain nodded.
It wasn't an impossible story.
'Spirits can communicate with each other without leaving their seats.'
He only knew this as a concept of the imaginary dimension.
The reason Deltain, who hadn't even learned spirit arts, knew this was one thing.
It was because he had dealt with the imaginary dimension to master 4th-tier spatial magic.
"...I want to ask more about that Spirit."
"Don't be in a hurry. You'll know when you meet her."
"There's something I want to hear from you."
"I can't tell you anything."
The Chief shook his head and said so.
"I'm sorry, but I'm bound by a contract, so I can't be of much help."
Deltain clicked his tongue.
But he didn't press further.
He knew that those bound by contracts with spirits acted like slaves to appease them.
"Then when can I meet her?"
"If you want, right now. But I'd like you to eat first. I don't want to hear that I sent you up without feeding you."
"...How long will it take?"
"It will be done in 30 minutes. We're almost there. You can rest in this hut."
The Chief stopped walking and stepped aside.
Then, a fairly large hut came into the view of Deltain and his party.
"Welcome to the tribe."
The Chief said, and Deltain nodded.
"Call me when it's done."
After saying that, as Deltain entered the hut, Orga slowly stuck to Deltain and followed him in.
The Chief's eyes widened, but Orga deliberately ignored it.
*
It was a situation with quite a lot to think about.
First, No.3 Token of Endless Winter. According to the information, it was a blessing that the Spirit gave whenever a new chief took office, and second, the fact that the Spirit was waiting for him and that No. 9 Demon Flower Extrias was related to the Spirit.
Perhaps he could finish collecting both materials with this trip to the snowy mountain.
While such thoughts were crossing Deltain's mind, Orga said.
"Mission success!"
It was a lively voice.
Deltain and Agnes's gazes turned to Orga.
Orga smiled brightly and took off the coat she had been wrapping her whole body in until then.
Suddenly, Agnes said in surprise.
"It was a girl?"
"Hm?"
As she took off her coat and hood, Orga's long hair flowed down below her shoulders.
She was a body of about ten years old, but since she was wearing such thin clothes, it was clearly a young girl.
Orga smiled brightly.
"That's right! I'm a girl!"
Agnes's expression turned subtle.
Meanwhile, Orga, who had approached Deltain with short steps, asked with shining eyes.
"So what's the next mission! What kind of acting do I have to do now?!"
Deltain stared at Orga.
"There isn't one."
"What?!"
"I said there isn't one. I don't need you anymore."
Thud!
Orga knelt down.
Immediately after, she grabbed Deltain's pant leg as if she couldn't believe it and said with tears in her eyes.
"T-then what do I do? M-my father might scold me!"
"That's for you to figure out. Who told you to get caught there."
"Whaaaaaat-!!!"
Orga made a blank face as if her soul had left her body.
When Deltain kicked her foot, she just flopped onto the floor.
Drip.
Tears flowed down Orga's eyes.
Orga, 10 years old.
She had learned betrayal at quite a late age.
*
30 minutes passed quickly.
What appeared before the party that left the hut again was the meat of a large monster that was five times the size of Kaltara.
"Wow."
Agnes exclaimed.
"Something like that lives on the snowy mountain."
Perhaps it was a mountain goat.
Since it was just meat that had been butchered with all the fur and skin removed, he couldn't be sure, but the smell of the meat resembled lamb.
Deltain replied to Agnes's words.
"It's a Peverod. A 2nd-grade hazardous monster species."
"If it's 2nd-grade hazardous, isn't that high? How did they catch it?"
"Don't look down on barbarians. They might be stupid, but their hunting skills and combat abilities are several times that of Imperials."
A prime example of that would be Kaltara.
She was such a monster outside of standard specifications that it was hard to use her as a benchmark, but setting that aside, there was no one easier to explain the potential of barbarians than her.
Well, if you could explain it by saying that unlike other Lord-class knights of the Empire who trained their whole lives to reach that level, Kaltara was a being whose Lord-class martial power was guaranteed from birth.
"There's a reason why the Empire calls everyone in the North, South, and West barbarians. They're afraid of these guys."
"It would be nice if they got along."
"As if that would happen."
While such a conversation was going on, the Chief approached.
He was carrying the leg meat of the monster on a large plate.
"Eat. It's the best part."
"Thanks. So, if I eat this, will you take me to the Spirit?"
"That's right. Do you intend to leave right after eating?"
"I'd like to."
"If so, leave your subordinates behind."
"What?"
"The person the Spirit wants to meet is only you and that woman."
Deltain frowned and looked at the hounds and Cargo.
Except for Kaltara, the four were making bright faces at the fact that they didn't have to climb any further.
"...Do you really have to?"
"They wouldn't be able to see the Spirit anyway."
"If you put it that way, I wouldn't be able to see the Spirit either."
"You can. The Spirit will make arrangements to do so."
Deltain's eyebrows went up.
'Is she at a level where manifestation is possible?'
There were only two types of spirits that could weave matter to create a body.
Either a Spirit King, or a direct descendant separated from the Spirit King's soul.
It was probably the second case.
Because the Spirit King was the personality of the planet itself, it didn't contract with individuals.
'She definitely said the Spirit King could be seen here too.'
Deltain continued his thoughts.
Perhaps the one the Chief contracted with was a direct descendant of the Spirit King.
Maybe he would meet the Spirit King through that Spirit.
'The one the Spirit King is interested in is....'
Deltain's gaze turned to Agnes.
She was picking at the meat with a fork and eating it little by little.
'...This one. Specifically, it must be the Demon Flower.'
There was a mounting impatience.
It was because of the current situation where he had to take it easy even though the method to solve the questions filling his head was right in front of him.
He wanted to flip everything over and go to the top of the snowy mountain, but if he did that, it was clear that there would be difficulties in his relationship with the Spirit.
'I have to finish this quickly and go.'
Deltain picked up the meat and took a big bite.
"How does it taste?"
"It's tough."
"Oh dear."
The Chief felt sorry.
*
There was no further delay.
Having finished his meal, Deltain set off on his journey again, accompanied by Agnes, the Chief, and even Orga.
Meanwhile, Deltain looked at Orga and asked.
"...Why did you follow?"
"...."
Orga was clinging tightly to Agnes's leg.
Seeing her glare, it seemed the sense of betrayal was not small.
Yet, seeing her glance at the Chief, he guessed that she was afraid of being scolded, so she wanted to stay with the guests.
"...Orga, let's talk later."
"Eek!"
At the Chief's words, Orga hid behind Agnes's body.
Agnes smiled and stroked Orga's hair.
"She's cute."
Deltain, who sighed wondering what kind of situation this was, soon pushed Orga away and picked up Agnes.
She had a body that couldn't climb mountains.
"Let's go."
He said that and started walking to the top of the snowy mountain.
The mountain terrain was rugged and the snowfall was quite strong.
But Deltain felt strangely resistant to it.
'The Spirit's blessing.'
Spirits had a property of protecting those they liked so that they wouldn't be harmed by their authority when they entered their territory.
Deltain judged that this was also due to Agnes's influence.
Well, where would a natural Spirit Affinity of 8.9 be an ordinary figure?
Even if she was a direct descendant of the Spirit King, she would be tempted by her affinity.
Perhaps Agnes might contract with the Spirit of this snowy mountain.
While Deltain was climbing the mountain path thinking such things, the summit began to come into view.
Hesitate.
Deltain stopped walking.
'Is that the Spirit?'
In the middle of the frozen lake at the summit.
Something woven from snow into the shape of a woman was standing still and smiling.
Agnes was where her gaze was directed.
It was truly mysterious.
The fact that she felt nothing despite clearly having a form, and yet the certainty that she was a living being, was like that.
"I greet the Spirit-nim."
The Chief bowed his head.
Then Orga, who had been standing blankly, also bowed 90 degrees.
The Spirit moved.
Her steps were light, and the blizzard that rose whenever she moved was as soft as falling flower petals.
[Ah, you've come.]
The distance got closer.
The distance was now close enough to distinguish her facial features.
Deltain realized only then that the Spirit had the face of a beauty that humans generally think of.
[So glad to see you. Fragrant....]
The moment the Spirit approached five steps ahead.
[...Ugh?!]
Suddenly, the Spirit gagged.
The moment a question floated over Deltain's face at that, the Spirit stepped back and looked at Agnes with a bewildered face.
Why on earth was she doing that?
While such thoughts were floating in the party's minds.
[Uweeegh!]
The Spirit retched.
Of course, what came out of her mouth were pure white snowflakes.
The Spirit's body twisted.
Her expression was distorted to the point where it couldn't be distorted any further.
It was an extremely sudden situation.
The Spirit, who was trembling and threw her gaze at Agnes again, eventually said so.
[Y-you smell like a non-virgin....]
The expression disappeared from Agnes's face.
[You, you're not pure, are you?]
Deltain thought at the face of the Spirit, which was plastered with a sense of betrayal.
'A unicorn?'
Was it not a Spirit, but a unicorn?
He thought.