The Festival Begins (3)
The stranger raced through the blizzard like the wind. Neither the snow that blinded his vision nor the thick, sinking drifts posed any real obstacle to him.
He ran without rest, hunting beasts when hungry, digging a burrow to sleep when tired, never pausing for long. Ordinarily he would never have pushed himself this hard, but his goal was none other than the Festival of Duels.
No one but the gods knew when it would begin or how it would end.
His pace quickened with his growing urgency.
Covering a distance that would take nearly a month on horseback in a mere fortnight was possible only thanks to his transcendent physical abilities.
"Hmm... looks like I'm not too late."
The stranger muttered as he gazed at the familiar walls in the distance. White and elegant, yet towering high.
The homeland of faith, the sanctuary of all.
At last, he had arrived at the Holy City of Civitas.
A long line of people stretched out, waiting to pass through the gates. The queue reached all the way to where the gates looked tiny in the distance, so the city must have been packed to the brim.
Can't go this way.
He had never intended to enter through official inspection. He was supposed to be in the Holy City to begin with. Having slipped out with only a letter left behind, he would have to sneak back in the same way.
Tony's going to give me an earful when we meet.
His wanderlust-driven disappearances were an annual tradition, but this time his return was a bit late.
With no word from him, Tony would be thoroughly furious, so he could only hope to remain undetected until the festival ended.
The stranger walked slowly along the walls. Hands clasped behind his back, he looked every bit the old man out for a stroll.
But his sharp presence was that of a predator; in truth, he was a seasoned warrior wearing the guise of an old man.
Eventually, reaching a spot where the paladins atop the walls could not see him directly, the stranger plopped down on the ground.
He closed his eyes and slowly regulated his breathing.
He gathered holy power at his fingertips. Very faintly, thin and delicate as a thread.
If the holy power spread too far, the paladins would react, so he kept it infinitely weak—too faint for them to sense.
Whoosh—!
A breeze-like holy power radiated from the stranger. Only the wild grass swayed faintly, revealing that something had passed.
The paladins on the walls failed to notice the holy power, while the stranger could sense every one of their presences.
The security is tight. Almost no gaps, thoroughly done... Excellent.
The stranger nodded with a satisfied smile.
Indeed, at a time like this, how could they dare slacken their guard?
Though he himself was currently sneaking in, the paladins' diligence deserved praise.
Hoo—
Enough idle thoughts.
The stranger exhaled a long, thin breath, then drew in a shallow one. His breathing grew gradually slower and weaker.
As it did, his presence faded. Even looking at him with one's eyes, his outline blurred, seeming to merge with the surroundings.
It was one of the techniques he had picked up over the shoulder while wandering the continent for so long.
Hoo—
Repeating the shallow breaths, the stranger waited for his moment. No matter how tight the security, inevitable gaps always existed.
And those gaps appeared only for the briefest instant before vanishing.
"Hup!"
With a short shout, the stranger began to run. Sprinting like an arrow toward the towering walls—
Tap, ta-tap, tap—!
Without losing speed, he kicked off the wall and shot upward vertically. Using the tiny protruding stones as footholds, he scaled the wall.
In the blink of an eye he reached the top and did not stop.
"Good work. Anything unusual?"
"No, sir! All clear!"
"Alright, got it. Head down... Huh?"
"What is it, sir?"
"No, I thought something just passed by... Or did I imagine it?"
He slipped through the blind spot of the rotating paladins with cunning movements. Ghost-like agility appearing in broad daylight.
Having crossed the wall in an instant, the stranger descended like the wind and concealed his presence once more.
He waited briefly.
The paladins on the wall... remained as they were. Unable even to imagine that someone had broken through their tight security head-on.
The stranger grinned. Even after so long, his skills hadn't dulled. At this rate, he could stay active for quite a while yet.
Then he set off toward the main avenue ahead.
The stranger's first destination upon returning to the Holy City after so long was a restaurant at the crossroads in front of the Pantheon. A shop long beloved by the citizens for its unchanging flavors.
Perhaps because it had been a while, it seemed unusually crowded.
"What's this? 'The Hero's Daily Breakfast Set'?"
His brow furrowed at the bizarre name.
Had he grown so old that he was out of touch with trends? A menu with such a strange name.
Since it was listed as the chef's recommendation, the stranger ordered the "Hero Set" and clicked his tongue.
"Tsk. Back in my day, this place never hung up weird names like that to do business."
Grumbling that the chef had lost his original spirit after being replaced by his son, the stranger suddenly looked toward those entering the shop.
"No, seriously! Do you really have to keep recording even here? If you keep this up, what's the point of me disguising myself!"
"Ahaha... He— I mean, Ken—"
"Shh! Call me Ketnis."
"Ah, yes. Lady Ketnis, we really don't mind, so you don't have to..."
"Sir Hans. I mind. Let's just eat among ourselves."
"Da-Daisy! How can you speak to Lady Ketnis like that?"
"He— Ahem! Even if you say that, I cannot back down. I came alone because of all the complaining. Absolutely no more than this."
One woman in a robe, a black-haired man, a short-haired girl, and a priest who looked like a scribe.
An eye-catching combination of companions. As expected, from the moment they appeared, everyone in the shop paid attention. But soon they lost interest and turned away again.
With all sorts of people gathering in the Holy City, they didn't draw particular notice. But the stranger was different.
He could see.
The robed woman—she was strong.
Somehow, an immense amount of holy power was condensed within her body. She felt less like a person and more like something forged of holy power itself.
Was there a woman of that caliber in the Holy City...
While the stranger pondered, the Hero Set he had ordered arrived.
Thinly and crisply grilled meat, fresh eggs, a bit of salad and corn, an apple, warm stew and bread. A well-laid table.
As he cut the meat with fork and knife, his ears pricked keenly toward the group.
"You didn't have to treat us to a meal... Even now, I'll cover half."
"No. Thanks to Sir Hans, the village was safe, but the Pantheon is too busy to offer compensation right now... So as a representative of the Pantheon, I'm treating you as an apology. Don't feel burdened."
"Aww, I didn't do anything big. It was all thanks to Lady Ketnis. Hahaha!"
"Sir Hans. I don't like this place. Sir Hans. Want to go get sweets later? Sir Hans? Sir Hans? Why won't you answer me? Sir Hans?"
"Hmm. The Hero treated Apostle Hans to a meal as an apology..."
The black-haired man scratching his head with a sheepish laugh, beside him a short-haired girl muttering with a lifeless expression. A scribe diligently jotting something down while mumbling.
...Not a group he particularly wanted to get close to. Whatever it was, the instincts honed over his long years were telling him.
That man—his path of hardship was clear.
Whatever it turned out to be, it would surely be a thorny road.
Poor fellow.
The stranger finished his meal and left the shop.
With his stomach comfortably full, it was time to participate in the Festival of Duels... but having returned to the Holy City after so long, he had no idea how to enter the festival.
I should go see my friend's face.
He could catch up, ask about the festival in detail, and figure out a way to shed this stifling robe. The stranger blended into the throng filling the main avenue.
The avenue was truly a gathering of people from every nation.
People with tanned brown skin, people covered head to toe in colorful tattoos, people with shaved heads, people draped in animal skins... All must have come with expectations for the festival.
Amazing that with this many people, there's not a single pickpocket.
Well, the fact that the god had judged blasphemous devil-worshippers with lightning was famous enough—who would dare commit crimes in the Holy City?
The god was clearly watching over them.
Clang—! Clang—! Clang—!
As he entered a familiar street, the cheerful sound of hammering reached him. Light, rapid-tempo hammering.
The corner of the stranger's mouth curled up. His longtime friend, stubborn and cantankerous. He could already picture that face.
It didn't take long for the smiling stranger's expression to twist.
"Gah! What is this heat!"
Stepping into the forge, an overwhelming heat slammed into the stranger. Heat so intense he could barely breathe for a moment.
Hastily wrapping himself in holy power, the heat subsided somewhat. Looking around the forge with a dazed expression. Inside, familiar faces were hammering away bare-chested.
All his friend's disciples.
"Hiyahhh!!"
"Hryaah!"
"One more time!!"
"Hiyahhh!!"
Well-developed muscles swelled and writhed, their entire bodies glistening with sweat. In the disciples' eyes burned an indescribable madness and passion.
"You worthless lot—!! Is it hot!!"
His friend's voice came from deeper inside.
""No, sir!!""
"If it's hot, quit!! If you can't endure this heat, you'll never be able to draw out the thread for the rest of your lives!!"
""We can do it!!""
"Then hammer harder!! Pour everything you have into the ingot!! Keep the rhythm and force steady, pour in infinite passion!!!"
""Hiyahhhh!!""
...Draw out what? Draw out thread?
The stranger's expression went blank.
So they were drawing thread from the ingot right now?
His friend's figure walking out from the back of the forge grew closer. The stranger approached him with glad steps.
Adam, my old friend.
He'd aged a lot since I last saw him... Wait.
In the time I hadn't seen him, his muscles had... grown quite a bit. He'd always been muscular, but his forearms hadn't been as thick as his waist before?
Worm-like veins writhed atop the muscles, flaunting their presence, and when he crossed his arms, his bare torso looked ready to burst.
"Who're you? A customer? No, more importantly, how did you get in?"
Adam asked the stranger crookedly. Only then did the stranger realize he was still wearing the robe.
That was how shocking the forge's atmosphere had been.
"It's me, Adam."
"Hah. If you say it like that, how am I supposed to... Hmm? You, could it be?"
Adam's eyes widened, and the stranger slowly removed the robe.
His white hair was covered by the color of blazing flames, his face veiled by writhing, dancing shadows. But Adam could recognize him clearly.
Having seen him for years, he couldn't help but know.
"Good heavens! Li—"
"Shh! Call me Leon."
The mysterious stranger, Leon, had arrived in the Holy City.