Chapter 10
Chapter 10
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: Mountain Lord
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Mountain Lord.
The lord of the mountains.
Alternatively, a term used to refer to tigers, this word had practically vanished from use in the rigid society of the 21st century, hardened by technological and industrial progress.
Yet, Mountain Lords truly exist.
Even my grandmother, who had been a shaman, once told me she had offered sacrifices to the Mountain Lord of Baekdu Mountain.
Of course, they weren't actual animals.
They were spirits that borrowed the form of tigers, guardian deities in their own right.
And back then, feeling nostalgic, she had shared with her grandson all sorts of tales, including the foods favored by Mountain Lords and the proper ways to perform rituals.
[You've come to me again, boy.]
Deius Verdi was 28 years old, so calling him a boy was a bit overdue.
But when a Mountain Lord who had lived for thousands of years called him a boy, there was nothing to say about it.
"I am Deius Verdi. After completing a mere three months of life away from home, I have come to pay my respects."
Warm liquor and rice cakes, favorites of the Mountain Lord.
The liquor the maid had warmed had already gone cold in the chill of the North Wedden Mountains, but yellow mana softly enveloped the bottle, reheating it.
The first time I climbed the mountains and met the Mountain Lord was about a month after becoming Deius Verdi.
Back then, I had tried to run away.
Learning magic was tough, studying etiquette was hard, and the karma of the trash that was Deius was overwhelming.
But above all, what tormented me most were the evil spirits in the mansion.
For whatever sins they had committed, the Verdi mansion was teeming with far too many evil spirits dwelling within.
Since I hadn't learned necromancy yet at the time, I could only pretend not to see them, but the stress was so intense that I fled.
That's when I encountered the Mountain Lord.
The Mountain Lord who tore into the evil spirits chasing me and took pity on me.
"Liquor and rice cakes that I believe you will enjoy, Mountain Lord. I hope they suit your taste."
[...]
A blue ethereal form emerged from the Mountain Lord's mouth and enveloped the liquor and rice cakes.
The offerings vanished as if naturally absorbed into the ethereal body.
No change showed on his expression, but the oppressive pressure that had been bearing down lifted, suggesting he was pleased.
[The first time.]
"..."
One must not interrupt recklessly.
I bowed my head and attentively listened to his leisurely continuing words.
[For thousands of years, I have been an object of fear alone. This is the first time any human has approached me like this.]
"You saved me, Mountain Lord."
[...]
An awkward silence hung between the Mountain Lord and me.
Five months ago, the truth was he hadn't intended to protect me?
Of course, I knew that.
Why would a Mountain Lord save a mere human being chased by evil spirits?
He had simply torn them apart because he disliked evil spirits invading his mountain; he had no intention of rescuing me.
'What does it matter?'
It doesn't.
I intend to exploit this relationship.
Even if you had no such thoughts, I'll force it into being, weaving a connection between us.
'And that will become a leash.'
[I know you didn't come just to exchange greetings.]
The heavy voice settled in. Now we were getting to the main point.
"In truth, I came ahead of time, anticipating that you might be displeased, Mountain Lord."
[...Ignorant foreigners are running rampant in my mountains.]
"However, we lack the power to protect these mountains."
The Mountain Lord's blue eyes flashed. My body stiffened as if struck by a winter waterfall, pressure crushing my entire form.
[So, you've come begging for my aid? You dare?]
"Mountain Lord."
I slowly rose from my seat, took a deep breath, and met his gaze.
I had knelt and offered tribute to place us on equal footing at the negotiation table.
He sat in his chair over there, now convinced I had a request.
I had no intention of yielding the initiative in negotiations to some tiger lounging alone in the mountains.
I raised my hand, pointing east beyond.
"The desert known as Sahar to the east has now become a human outpost."
Then the opposite, pointing west.
"I hear the Parurier Sea region to the west has underwater tunnels and seabed farms under construction."
Finally, I extended my hand toward the sky.
"Beyond the mountains, the Clock Republic has recently developed a glider, a device that races through the skies."
[What is your point?]
I cautiously placed a hand over my heart in apology.
"A thousand years ago, the Sahar Desert was a cursed land to humans. It took a day to strip flesh, two days to drain blood, three days to claim life."
[...]
"Now, humans are planting potatoes there. Adapted to the climate, these potatoes don't rot easily, are sturdy for storage, and I hear there are more ways to prepare them."
Now understanding my words, the Mountain Lord's eyes narrowed. The murderous intent to tear me apart made me lean on my staff.
Without it, I might have collapsed to my knees.
But I couldn't show that.
With the same tone and unwavering pronunciation, I continued.
"The infamous Leviathan and Kraken of the Parurier Sea. Yet humans have driven them out and covet its bountiful underwater resources. A handful of salt from there trades for a gold coin, they say."
[...]
"Mountain Lord, just a thousand years ago, did you think humans could fly? Primitive humans who must trudge a distance you cover in one leap, over an entire month."
My white breath obscured my vision. It helped me endure by blurring the Mountain Lord's form.
"Isn't it amusing, Mountain Lord? These primitive humans are one by one seizing the nests of spirit beasts."
[Are you threatening me?]
Thud.
The Mountain Lord took a step forward.
The white tiger standing on the ridgeline pierced through the snowfall, coming right up to my nose, growling and baring its fangs.
It was a moment when even blinking was impossible.
[With a mere breath, I could tear you apart. Bring a hundred; a flick of my tail, and they are no longer among the living.]
[Bring a thousand; my claws will rend them one by one.]
[Bring ten thousand; my fangs are eternal, unrusting and unbreakable.]
A bold declaration.
Entirely feasible within the mountain range, of course.
"On the first day, ten thousand will come."
I did not retreat.
"On the second, another ten thousand will arrive."
[...]
"Third and fourth days, twenty thousand this time. And all will die beneath you, Mountain Lord. Corpses piling upon corpses, the mountains forming forests not of trees, but of bone and flesh."
The reason the Mountain Lord is strong is, naturally, because it's his mountain. If that mountain becomes defiled?
"Five days."
I spread my fingers wide and declared.
"In just five days, you will fall, Mountain Lord."
[...]
"Mountain Lord."
My extended hand naturally lowered. I offered it to him like a handshake.
"Deius Verdi, second son of the Verdi Family, swears here and now. I will protect your nest."
[...You?]
"No human footsteps will intrude carelessly. If any dare plant a human flag here, I will kill them first."
[...]
"So, Mountain Lord."
A curt but utterly cold voice emerged. As if the chill of Northsweden had affected me too.
"Please help me."
* * *
"Hm?"
Pindenai, resting at the Northsweden mountaintop outpost, felt a strange sensation as she lit her cigarette.
Not mana—something brushing past the nape of her neck.
An ordinary person might dismiss it as a misperception, but Pindenai was different.
With senses rivaling a beast's, she snatched the axe beside her and sprang up.
Her comrades, who had been easing battle fatigue while planning the pillaging of Northsweden, asked puzzledly.
"Something wrong?"
"What's up?"
Even as the leader of the Scrap Merchants resistance, they were like family, so no formalities.
From the start, what would formalities look like among former slaves? Just kids playing gang leader in the alleys, mimicking adults.
"Something's coming."
Exhaling deep cigarette smoke, Pindenai stepped straight outside. Her comrades in the outpost gripped their weapons and followed.
It was just a hunch, but they absolutely trusted and followed Pindenai's 'hunches.'
"Sigh, the follow-up team's almost here anyway."
"Just stall for time. Did that idiot Count finally request reinforcements?"
The Scrap Merchants were surprised that Darius Verdi had chosen Northsweden's citizens over his family, but Pindenai ignored them, fixing her gaze afar.
"Whew."
She extinguished the cigarette in her mouth. It was a long one she hadn't even smoked much of, but she sensed there was no time.
"It's not that."
Rolling her wrists, Pindenai spotted a man walking through the falling snowflakes.
"The enemy's just one."
"One?"
"Huh?"
One of the few members holding a sniper rifle peered through the scope and shouted.
"I-It's true! A man in a coat, holding a staff, coming this way alone!"
"Surrendering?"
"Or here to negotiate?"
The Scrap Merchants relaxed at the thought of just one, but Pindenai gripped her axe tighter, more tense than ever.
And the ongoing reports from the sniper.
"H-He seems like a mage! The snow piles melt away on their own as he advances!"
"Fancy mage, huh."
"All those Griffin nobles are just posers, right?"
"Guy coming to surrender or negotiate is already ruining his first impression."
Pindenai snapped sharply at her comrades, still failing to grasp the situation.
"Brainless idiots, get your heads straight. I said 'enemy.'"
"Huh?"
"...?"
At that moment, a fireball came flying in. Not huge, nor particularly threatening magic.
Pindenai swung her axe without a hint of carelessness, precisely splitting the fireball in half.
"...!"
Her gaze shifted to the fireball she had cleaved.
The halved flames merged back into one as they passed.
Then, curving midair, it looped back toward Pindenai once more.
[Kiyahahahaha!]
Accompanied by a chilling shriek.
Whoosh!
The fireball split again. Yet it reformed as if unscathed.
From there, fireballs of all sizes poured from the mage.
[Kill! Let's killllll!]
[Freedom! Fuck yeah, freedooom!]
[Quench our throats with blood, fill our bellies with flesh!]
[Foreign scum! Face retribution!]
"W-What the hell!"
"The magic's talking! F-Form up!"
"Even if we bat them away, they come back! Back-to-back, circular formation!"
Fireballs carrying voices of every tone flew wildly through the sky like they had wills of their own, devouring the falling snow.
Amid it all, Pindenai's blood-red eyes glared at the coat-clad mage advancing without pause.
"Necromancer...!"
She growled the word like she was chewing it, ready to tear him apart on sight.
But Deius Verdi didn't even glance her way, clicking his tongue in a voice as low as the mountain chill.
"Go devour them, you damned evil spirits."