This Time, Please Let Me Pass Through Peacefully

This time, I just hoped we'd get through peacefully.

Kii... whimper, whimper.

The moment the divinity erupted from me, the tiger instinctively scrambled backward. It still brimmed with wariness, showing not even a flicker of goodwill toward me. Then the divinity died down.

"Lady Lily?"

"...Just as I thought. Redberry was right."

Every creature born and raised on this land carried a special ability called Ancient Power, just like the Venetus. Because of that, they were friendly toward the Venetus who shared their power — but toward anyone who lacked it, they felt an instinctive hostility, a deep sense of wrongness.

I said as much and nodded. "Put simply, their affection meter starts at a flat -100."

Well, of course. There was no way I was the strange one here.

The tiger crouched low, coiled in a stance that looked ready to pounce at any second. It seemed like it might attack at any moment — but it never would. The tiger had already sensed, on pure instinct, the gulf between itself and me, and above all, it was terrified. Unless it went completely mad, an attack was out of the question.

"By the way, the chieftain's nowhere to be seen."

We had clearly taken the transport gate from the chieftain's house, and yet all that greeted us was a tiger.

"The tiger can't be the chieftain, right?"

"Then the matter's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠already settled, I suppose."

After all, the final decision-maker for the mana stone purchase was already prepared to cooperate. But I knew better.

"The flow of mana is pointing behind us."

A vast, tremendous power had been making itself felt for some time now. It was as if the mana of the entire region was being drawn into a single point, circulating, and then sinking back into the earth.

Step. Step.

Through the clouds of mist conjured by that mana, an old man walked out. He wore a neatly trimmed coat of blue-gray fur, and his frame was somewhat smaller than Umpura's. Three blue flame marks spun slowly across his shoulder like rotating sigils, and within his body, too, mana revolved in perfect balance.

"Cheongho. Come here."

The terrified tiger, Cheongho, rushed back to its master's side as if it had been waiting for nothing else. Flat on its belly before the old man, it looked less like a tiger and more like a cat — no, maybe even a puppy.

"Are you Chieftain Karuns?"

"I am. And you are an outsider. One who has received the power of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠immortality."

The moment the old man took a step, mana surged up from the ground like a geyser. His level was on par with Mageukgong — or beyond. Factoring in the peculiar nature of his mana, which resembled demonic energy, Mageukgong was probably far superior — but the old man, too, possessed a very special authority.

Mana that refills as if approaching infinity.

Power that constantly regenerated meant one could fight that much longer. And more than anything, in my current state, I couldn't defeat the chieftain without resorting to some special trump card — Sacred Fire, the Crown of Succession, the Authority of Extreme Cold.

"I've heard your story. You want the Primordial fragments."

"If you mean the Blue-Red Stones, then yes."

"Blue-Red Stones... an interesting name. Hmm, perhaps that's what they truly are."

The old man's two blue eyes fixed on me.

"If you want them, I will give you the fragments. And I will take no money for them."

The chieftain was offering them free of charge, not even asking for gold coins. Considering the Blue-Red Stones embedded in every house in the village — and considering that while the stones clearly held some significance for the Venetus, they weren't exactly a scarce mineral — it made a certain sense.

Any ordinary person would have said thank you and taken them. But then...

"What would you have me offer in return?"

"Just take them. Provoking a conflict with you would be a loss for us regardless."

"It's far too much to accept without compensation."

Because this body of mine simply cannot help speaking of 'compensation.'

I could let small things slide with a bit of grace, but a one-sided transaction like this was something I could never allow.

"I will pay something. Though the amount I require may be greater than you expect."

"That is of no concern. The fragments born of the Primordial land are more plentiful than you'd think."

"It is of concern to me."

Which meant I had to pay.

Even if he didn't want it, even if I had to force it on him.

"......"

A brief battle of wills followed. While Redberry glanced back and forth between me and the old man, utterly at a loss, the old man finally gave a small nod.

"...Then I have a favor to ask. It will more than cover whatever compensation you insist on."

"And what would that be?"

"Nothing much. No — it wasn't nothing much."

"?"

"Do you know of the Red Ones?"

The Primordial Island. Today it is called the land of the Blue Ones, the Venetus — but the mineral it yields is the Blue-Red Stone. True to its name, meaning a stone that is 'blue' and 'red,' two races once dwelled here.

The Blue Ones, the Venetus. The Red Ones, the Rutilus.

The Venetus bore blue-tinted bodies and held mana approaching infinity, along with an affinity for water. The Rutilus, by contrast, were red of skin and gifted not in water but in fire — yet the greatest difference between them lay in their relationship to mana itself.

"The Rutilus never had mana welling up within them. Quite the opposite — the more they used it, the faster their total reserves drained away."

In any world beyond the Primordial Island, that would have been the natural order of things. Here, and here alone, it was a strange anomaly.

When the Venetus and the Rutilus first encountered one another, they maintained a measure of friendship. But as exchange deepened and deepened, a question began to gnaw at them.

Why does mana never refill within those people?

Why does mana refill endlessly within those people?

Two races, gifted with fundamentally different bodies from birth, wrestled with the mystery. And before long, the Venetus reached a conclusion.

"Those people were simply not chosen."

They were an incomplete race, the Venetus decided — descendants who had failed to inherit the Ancient Power born of the Primordial Island itself.

"......"

"A laughable notion, I know. But back then, everyone believed it."

Even the Rutilus, who had continued to reach out in friendship, came to think the same. They are a race superior to us. They possess a specialness we were never given.

And so a relationship that had run along parallel lines began to split violently into a vertical one.

The Venetus were superior; the Rutilus were incomplete. Ruler and ruled, cleanly divided.

"That was where the trouble began."

Domination itself was not the sin. Even now, most nations of Deoen remain monarchies, and the strong ruling the weak has been passed down as if it were a law of nature. But the Venetus crossed a line.

"What line did you cross?"

"We touched their very foundation."

The Blue-Red Stone. The stone that was blue and red had originally existed in equal parts — half blue, half red. But the Venetus, drunk on the heights of their own superiority, found this intolerable.

"We declared: 'Every fragment of the Primordial must be blue. Therefore, we shall erase the red.'"

A declaration that they would deny the Rutilus' very origin. The Rutilus protested at once, but they could not turn the decision around. Their numbers were comparable, yet the gap in power was unmistakable, and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in staying power they fell hopelessly short.

In the end, the Venetus — their arrogance running its final course — swept aside the obstructing Rutilus, ascended to the highest point on the island, the volcanic peak named the Primordial Starting Point, and poured the Blue-Red Stones into the crater, twisting the very root of the world.

And then the Red Ones went berserk.

"That was the first I learned what blessing the Rutilus had carried all along."

Why it was that not having mana endlessly refill had been the true blessing all along.

"...So what's the conclusion?"

"The Red Ones are all dead. Our side, too, paid a sacrifice close to total annihilation — we sent every last one of them back to the Primordial soil."

But.

"There was one Rutilus we could not kill. In the end, we sealed him instead."

"If your favor is to have that Rutilus killed, I won't accept."

"I'm not quite so devoid of conscience as that."

Ding!

"This request is not made out of fear of consequences. Nor is it an act of repentance. It will sound like an excuse, but back then I was merely a small child."

When the catastrophe struck, Karuns had been a child only just beginning to walk the warrior's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠path — around the age of Kal and En now. He had no choice but to follow the decrees of the tribe's elders, and his strength had been far from enough.

"I ask only that you confirm whether he is still there. That is the whole of my request."

The Original Sin. The beginning of every atrocity.

The war between the Rutilus and the Venetus had buried the first generation of both races beneath the earth, and the only soul who remembered that era was Karuns, who had been a child.

Perhaps he was trying to hide his people's guilt — but Karuns himself showed no sign of lying. If he had wanted it buried, he would never have told the story at the cost of exposing his tribe's darkest shame.

"Acron... Acron..."

"All I have to do is confirm he's there, right?"

"Confirming it is the problem."

"?"

"Every time I go to check on something like this, something always goes wrong with the seal."

It was practically a law of nature. The seal has loosened with age, and — what do you know — it happens to break the very moment I arrive. Or it stirs awake out of nowhere in response to my power. Or, failing that, something comes flying in from the opposite side of the planet to shatter it outright.

By one outlandish method or another, nine out of every ten seals I visited had come undone. Deoen alone had given us the Shadow Spirit, Sgaredo, Sepid...

Hmm.

I really have unsealed quite a lot in seven months.

"...The compensation will be substantial, then."

Still, a person can hope.

This time, please let me pass through peacefully.