Chapter 11
"Reveal it. Your mark."
The next day, an enormous crowd had gathered in the square in front of my lodgings. A massive platform made of shadows had been erected as a stage, and it was packed to bursting with warriors, shamans, prophets, artisans, merchants, and all sorts of people from every walk of life.
Standing atop that stage were three grand shamans and prophets, exuding the menacing aura of executioners awaiting a condemned prisoner. They were wrapped head to toe in robes, not a single inch of skin exposed, their faces hidden, their voices distorted, adorned with all manner of jewels and talismans—just like yesterday.
"Are you really sure about this?"
Marco, the knight captain assigned as my guard captain by the count, asked cautiously.
I nodded.
"No matter how you look at it, this is a total setup—a trap! Going up there is sheer madness!"
Cornac, the guild master, chimed in with a foreboding tone. His anxious expression was enough to make even me uneasy.
But I had to go up there.
"If I dodge the challenge here, my reputation takes a hit. Then the queen won't see me, and the whole reason I came here goes up in smoke."
To survive, I needed the export of Soul Flame resumed no matter what. From the moment they'd picked a fight with me, I had no choice left.
I patted the guild master's shoulder reassuringly and stepped out of the lodgings.
The dark elves lining the streets, packed shoulder to shoulder in huge numbers, immediately parted to make way upon seeing me. I walked slowly along the path they created, heading toward the massive platform in the square.
As I ascended the stage, the three grand shamans, who had been sitting quietly in their chairs until then, rose to their feet.
"So you've come, human who sows chaos with your silver tongue."
"As I said, I only wanted to help. I've never spoken falsehoods to slander anyone or caused harm to others."
"A poisoned apple shines all the more brilliantly. An ominous prophecy has befallen us. We've seen a future where Kaien shakes because of you! We know your ugly true nature. You might just be someone who speaks a little truth to pave the way for an even greater lie!"
"What is your purpose in coming to Kaien?!"
"And why do you meddle in people's fortunes and spout unauthorized prophecies in Kaien?!"
At their words, I scanned the dark elves gathered below the platform.
"I came to this city to seek an audience with the queen. But she refused to see us."
Mom had once told me: when a shaman is under suspicion, just be brutally honest. Laying bare your raw, primal desires can sometimes win empathy and dispel doubts.
"No, it's not just us—she's seeing no one at all. But I must meet the queen. One of Kaien's products, Soul Flame, is directly tied to my lifeline. That's why I came here to beg her to resume exports of Soul Flame."
So I said it straight.
"And to do that, I needed to demonstrate my abilities. I thought if I showcased my power to read pasts and futures, the queen might summon me. So, out of necessity, I read fortunes for others. I figured building a reputation that way would get me an audience with her."
The crowd of dark elves nodded at my words. It seemed like a reasonable explanation to them.
But...
"That just caused a temporary stir with all the crowds. I never came here with ill intent to deceive any of you fine elves..."
"What honeyed words do you plan to whisper to the queen?!"
"Planning to twist her mind with your silver tongue?!"
"One who brings misfortune, dragging in a calamitous future! You might fool the others, but not us!"
Even being honest, they had no intention of listening from the start.
So I changed my approach.
As Mom used to say: "If someone keeps hating on you even after you've been honest and made concessions, what do you do?"
"Crush 'em. No mercy for those who cross the line. Overwhelm them so thoroughly they never even think of messing with you again."
She'd said if you let line-crossers get away with it, they'll think your home is theirs.
I took a deep breath and widened my eyes.
"Bring the Trial Flame. Through it, I'll prove your words are lies, that your accusations against me are baseless slander."
"You scum! How dare you glare at us like that?!"
"Bring the flame! Fetch the Trial Flame to expose this villain's true heart!"
At their command, the object known as the Trial Flame was promptly brought onto the stage. A rectangular basin intricately carved from black stone, with pure white flames roaring fiercely inside. As tall as an average man's torso, the blazing fire was placed between me and the three grand shamans.
"Do you know what this Trial Flame is?"
"It's a fire containing a spirit that detects hidden intentions."
"Thrust your hand into it, great sage! If your words are true, the flames will burn white. If false, they'll turn black and burn your arm!"
The grand shamans demanded of me. I could feel the gaze of the countless crowd focusing on me—expectation, anxiety, distrust, suspicion, a mix of emotions in their eyes.
I slowly walked toward the Trial Flame.
"I just put my hand in here?"
"Yes! Put your hand in!"
"The spirit within has always judged accurately! It'll reveal your true heart too!"
"If you're not afraid, there's no reason to hesitate! If you're truly as pure-tongued as you claim and not some harbinger of Kaien's doom, the spirit in the flames will burn white on its own!"
"Put your hand in! Prove your words!"
The grand shamans bellowed roughly, and the dark elves began to echo them.
"The Trial Flame never lies."
"It's judged countless liars before."
"If the great sage is real, no reason not to, right?"
A perfectly staged trap. Overwhelming psychological pressure from the massive watching crowd. A meticulously designed setup that made it impossible not to comply.
But I didn't move. I just stood there, staring at the purely white-burning Trial Flame, saying nothing, doing nothing.
After about ten seconds, the three grand shamans pressed me triumphantly.
"What are you doing, great sage? Scared?"
"Afraid your wicked heart will show in the flames, frozen in fear!"
"Our prophecy was right—you bring ill omens! Look, everyone! See the charlatan who stirred people with lies, now paralyzed by fear!"
Murmurs grew at their words. Marco and the two guard knights subtly moved hands toward their Aura Blade hilts, while Cornac shot me a look screaming what the hell are you doing?.
But I still didn't move.
Finally, the three grand shamans pointed at me and shouted.
"No need to see more! Seize that fraud!"
"He seeks to beguile the queen and darken Kaien's future! Cursing this land built on our kin's blood and sweat with his prophetic powers!"
"What are you waiting for?! Warriors, up on stage—capture that fiend! And the humans with him too!"
A few warrior-class elves watching from below cautiously climbed the platform. They still looked at me in confusion, but the grand shamans' orders were absolute.
"Hurry up! Grab him! Lock him in prison!"
With no choice, the warriors approached me. Cornac went pale and half-collapsed, while the knights, surrounded by dark elf warriors, hesitated to draw swords, hands inching up slowly.
Just when it seemed all was lost, I started laughing.
My clear, hearty laughter rang out so refreshingly that the three grand shamans, the crowded dark elves, the warriors, and even the prophets and shamans from other clans and tribes watching intently from below all fell silent at once.
"I'll put my hand in the Trial Flame!"
I bellowed at the top of my lungs so everyone could hear.
"If there's a proper Trial Flame before me! I won't touch a flame lit by unqualified pretenders without a shaman's mark! This fire before me—the work of those without shaman or prophet qualifications! How can I expect fair judgment from this?!"
The three grand shamans began mocking me.
"Spouting such slander?"
"Everyone here knows who we are!"
"Daring to question our shaman credentials, when we've been shamans since before you were born?!"
At that, I walked past the Trial Flame straight toward the three grand shamans.
"I know exactly who you are. Better than anyone here, perhaps."
"Then you know your words are nonsense! What are you waiting for? Seize him!..."
I cut them off, slowly raising my hand to point at the one on the far left.
Not a scrap of skin exposed. Draped in jewels and talismans, face shrouded in thick cloth, voice distorted—that dark elf.
"Podala."
I called her name precisely.
The leftmost grand shaman flinched and trembled.
But I wasn't done.
"Of the Curved Reed Tribe. Daughter of Riddle, granddaughter of Jopea. And the one who's ruled as grand shaman for decades without a shred of qualification."
At my words, the far-left dark elf—Podala—erupted like a volcano.
"You scum! How dare you spout such nonsense?! Think the Curved Reed Tribe will stand for your insult?!"
Her roar was drowned by my even greater bellow.
"You have no shaman's mark! The tattoo on your arm right now—you drew it yourself with dye! Not forged by contract with a high spirit that aids in prophecy! You're no shaman! You're the fraud—not me!"
Podala screamed back just as fiercely.
"I can't stand this absurd slander! Warriors of the tribe! Seize this fiend now!..."
But her words didn't finish.
Suddenly, a group of dark elf warriors rushed onto the stage.
"Great sage, is what you just said true?"
At the question from the female elf at their head, I silently pointed to my own neck.
"If it's a lie, strike me down here and now."
It was a line I'd used on the count before. Proven effective.
The lead female elf nodded as if that sufficed, then glared at Podala.
"Remember me, Podala? Druein—the one who lost a son and fortune to your prophecy. Your words brought no small ruin to my house. Funny, isn't it? How your prophecies always favor your clan and doom mine."
"Y-you wench! What are you doing?! Warriors, up here! They're out to kill me!"
Podala's fellow grand shamans frantically gestured to summon warriors, but I blocked that.
Once more: "If you want a curse from the god who granted me my power, come on up! Anyone dare interfere with this judgment?!"
Dark elves were deeply superstitious. The warriors froze en masse. They knew my power well—not like others. I'd accurately predicted the Betua assault at the Wall of Blood.
As the warriors hesitated, Druein chose the same strategy as me. The ol' "all-in bread" gambit.
"If the shaman's mark is real! I'll atone for insulting a grand shaman by plunging a blade into my own heart! I swear a Blood Oath on my name and honor as Druein!"
Dark spirit letters engraved over Druein's body. They glowed quietly, heavily.
No one dared climb up to stop Druein and her clan now.
At Druein's gesture, her clan members fetched a water jar.
"Come on, Podala. Let's see if the great sage lied. If it's truly a mark from a high spirit contract, mere water won't wash it away, right?"
Druein approached Podala.
"What is this outrage?! This isn't a place for settling clan grudges! Stand down, Druein!"
The other two grand shamans tried to intervene, but Druein drew a dagger and short spear without hesitation. Dark spirits hummed ominously along the blades.
"If it turns out false, I'll pay for this insult with my life. Stand down, grand shaman. Or I can't predict what I'll do."
Druein strode toward Podala. And Podala had nowhere to run.
"Stay back! This is an insult! Daring to humiliate a grand shaman! Druein! I'll never forget this folly!"
Podala backed away, but Druein and her clansfolk didn't stop. Podala was subdued and dragged before Druein.
Druein dipped her hand in the jar and looked down at her.
"Reveal it."
Her voice was icy as frost.
"Your mark."
"This is humiliation! Insult! Stop them! Everyone, halt this blasphemy!"
But no one came to her aid.
Podala's tightly wrapped robes tore, exposing the shaman's mark on her left arm.
"No!"
Podala screamed.
Druein ignored her. Water-slicked fingers touched the mark. Then a smile curled Druein's lips.
She upended the entire jar over Podala's arm and body. In an instant, Podala looked like a drowned rat.
Druein grabbed her left arm and held it high. The gathered dark elves held their breath.
The shaman's mark on Podala's left arm was still there—but the dye had run and smeared from the water, melting away.
"Has anyone ever seen a spirit-contracted mark dissolve from mere water?!"
Druein's roar echoed thunderously across the entire square.