The Relentless Roll of the Waves
After each ritual ended, she would always pick up the still-warm corpse of the child with one hand as if it were mere trash, then hurl it irritably into the swamp or the chimera pen. It was as though she were angry at having wasted her time unnecessarily.
This one failed too.
Selkel still remembered that moment vividly. After giving birth to Olsidra, those were the only words she had spoken. The fragile life should have been discarded into the cauldron or the swamp. Selkel could never decide whether it had been fortune or tragedy that she noticed the summoning talent within Olsidra’s soul just before his death.
While summoning talent was certainly rare, it lacked any affinity for mana, so it did not align with her goals. Still, perhaps due to her repeated failures and the effort of the past year, she indulged a whim.
And so, for over a decade, Olsidra remained in that house as a servant to her and her disciples, and as experimental material.
Though he had barely passed the age of ten, his body—forced to mature through drugs and spells—already showed signs of aging. Scars and wounds from the witches’ abuse covered him, and his face had grown gaunt and skeletal from the side effects of potent medicines and curses.
The last great war had been a stroke of luck for Olsidra. While the witches were occupied aiding the Demon King’s army, he managed to escape. Of course, it was also fortunate that Mering happened to be away that day, that several bundles of valuable herbs and a few gold coins had been left on the table, and above all, that he already knew how to slip past the swamp—all thanks to Selkel’s careful arrangements.
That was why, when Olsidra first came looking for Mering, Selkel felt not only confusion and pity, but anger as well. He was the only life Selkel had ever saved. Even if the peace had been brief compared to ordinary people, Selkel had hoped Olsidra would live quietly. Yet here he was, walking back in of his own accord.
“The signal is still active. Just fly straight ahead.”
She answered absently, clutching the crystal necklace at her throat. From the beginning, Selkel’s feelings or thoughts had never been worth her consideration. To her, Selkel was nothing more than a slightly smarter golem that followed her commands.
But are you certain this is wise? We will soon reach the maritime zone of the Parerin Archipelago. If we continue like this, they will notice us.
The defensive spells woven around each island of the Parerin Archipelago were formidable. They did not completely block approach, but if they drew this close, the inhabitants would detect the intruder immediately and respond.
Even for the great witch Mering, this was a dangerous choice. Despite her many atrocities and her cooperation with the Demon King’s army during the last war, she had survived until now only because she had kept her existence completely hidden.
She never drew unnecessary attention, never openly antagonized any nation or organization. Even her pleasures and amusements were always conducted in secret, her identity thoroughly concealed. That had been her ironclad rule, and together with her secret art of preserving youth, it was how she had survived this long.
“Do not underestimate me, Selkel. The gravekeepers may notice us, but we will have more than enough time before they pinpoint our location.”
While evading pursuers, capturing the young master will be—
“Who is this ‘young master,’ Selkel?”
At the low, murderous tone in Mering’s voice, Selkel fell silent.
“Come to think of it, you have always been overly polite to that defective product. Even when we met last time. Has your pseudo-will mistaken him for a part of me all this time?”
Selkel realized his mistake. He had failed to consider that days of flight and rage over Olsidra had left his master’s nerves raw. Her eyes, now looking down at him, held the first glint of distrust he had ever seen.
This was bad. The moment she stopped treating him as a tool and began regarding him as another person—once she saw him as someone she could no longer trust—Selkel knew exactly what would happen to him. He had watched it happen to countless others over the years.
Would it not be difficult to achieve your goal while avoiding pursuers? His abilities were already considerable the last time we saw him.
“There is no need to worry.”
Even as she said it, Selkel could feel unease flicker through Mering’s heart. It was only natural, and exactly what he had hoped for. The last time they met Olsidra, he had threatened Mering through a blood contract using the serpent of Naraka. No matter how powerful Mering was, he was no longer an opponent she could dismiss lightly. If his contact with Urshus had succeeded as she feared, the danger would only have grown.
Yet her pride would never allow her to admit it. That complicated emotion would turn her attention away from Selkel. In the silence, Selkel prayed that Olsidra could flee just a little farther. It was the only thing left he could do.
* * *
The banquet Neikalsin had prepared was far better than expected. Given his taste in clothing and demeanor, Anak had anticipated a stiff continental-style court feast, but it felt more like a lively festival where many people gathered to enjoy themselves. The food and drink were delicious, and the performances were entertaining.
The island’s traditional songs and poetry had unfamiliar rhythms and metaphors, yet they were still enjoyable. The liquor was quite strong, so Anak could only manage a few cups, but the aroma was pleasant.
The real problem was…
“I didn’t think it would rock this badly. Urgh!”
They had sent the merchant ship ahead and boarded the vessel Neikalsin provided instead, heading for the central island of Inanaklan. The ship was fast. Rather than using a mana engine, it employed enchanted crystals to control the wind—a design suited to its small size.
However, that same trait made the rocking far more severe than on a large merchant vessel or even other ships of similar size.
“Are you all right, Lord Anak?”
One of the sailors asked with concern. Neikalsin had specifically instructed them to deliver Anak to the island quickly and comfortably, yet Anak’s face had been deathly pale since departure, and he kept retching. Worry was understandable.
“Ah, I’m fine.”
It was a lie. Two days had already passed since they left, but sleeping aboard the constantly rocking ship was torture, and the nausea only worsened upon waking.
“By the way, how much longer until we arrive?”
“Yes, it should take about two more days…”
“Urgh.”
The mention of two days triggered another wave of nausea.
“A-are you all right?”
Anak raised a hand to signal that he was fine. The sailors were probably at a loss. To islanders, the sea and ships were everyday matters; seasickness was rare and usually mild. Seeing someone suffer this badly must have been bewildering.
The real mistake had been overlooking how a smaller ship would worsen his seasickness when he had been thinking only of the banquet and spending time with Lady Rofena.
“We will pass a small uninhabited island in a few hours. Shall we stop there briefly?”
At the cautious question, Anak started to shake his head and say they should keep going. Reaching Rowell as soon as possible was important, and a few hours of docking would not help much.
Yet contrary to that thought, his hand froze in midair, and the words died on his lips. His instincts, unlike his reason, were honest about what they wanted.
“…If you would, I would appreciate it.”
On second thought, a short stop might not be so bad. Even a brief moment on solid ground would help.
“Understood. We will change course.”
Of course, he could have maintained maximum soul synchronization with his summons or tried various spells to ease the nausea. But keeping that up was hardly comfortable either, and he did not know a reliable spell for it—he would have to experiment. Enduring this much discomfort just for seasickness felt beneath him.
It might have been stubborn pride, but if he could simply rest on land for a while and recover, then afterward even floating slightly above the deck should be tolerable.
…In the worst case, I can just ride a summon and follow behind the ship.
Time passed, and just as his patience was nearly exhausted, word came that they had arrived. Anak hurried out of the cabin, careful not to appear too desperate. He had expected a barren rocky islet, but though the entire island was visible at a glance, it had a forest in the center and a white sandy beach.
“I apologize for the inconvenience.”
“Please do not say that. Lord Neikalsin instructed us to ensure the island’s benefactor suffers no discomfort.”
After a stiff, formal exchange meant to ease the awkwardness, Anak stepped off the ship. The sensation of sinking into wet sand was not pleasant, but as he walked farther inland, the nausea gradually subsided.
He sat down on the dry sand beyond the reach of the waves. After two days, simply being on unmoving ground felt like salvation.
“Please let us know when you are ready to depart.”
“Yes, thank you.”
The ship was small, with only four people aboard including the captain and crew, so Anak could not help feeling self-conscious. He wondered what they thought of him. Perhaps they were laughing, or perhaps they simply could not understand. The great benefactor of the islands, undone by mere seasickness. If they had heard of his deeds during the last war, it would be even more ridiculous.
“Haa…”
With that thought, he sighed and naturally turned his gaze toward the forest inside the island. The sight of waves crashing on the shore would normally have been beautiful, but now even looking at them made him shudder.
“Hm?”
As he gazed into the forest for a moment, he felt a strange presence. At first he thought it might be another trick of his nausea, but something was approaching at tremendous speed.