Chapter 361: Bread and Dagger (59)
Chapter 361: Bread and Dagger (59)
Old Man Pope lived in a tiny hut.
Though he was a hunter respected by the village, his life was little different from that of most elves. He, too, lived in a shabby shack, worrying about his daily meals.
At least, that had been the case until recently.
A snow leopard’s size far exceeded that of an average elf. Furthermore, they were prey that offered everything from hide to meat and bone.
A single leopard was enough to hold a feast.
Yet, the number of snow leopards hunted not long ago reached nearly fifteen. Even if the villagers ate their fill, they wouldn't have to worry about food for quite some time.
The northern cold was ideal for making preserved food.
Every time the cold, dry wind brushed past, the snow leopard meat grew leaner. In exchange, it would be preserved for a long time.
It would be enough to sustain them for at least two months.
For an elf village, this was a truly revolutionary event. This was a place where the majority of elves survived on nothing but 'tree porridge,' let alone a single proper meal a day.
The residents looked dazed by the mere fact that they didn't have to starve. Even Old Man Pope was no exception.
When Old Man Pope greeted me, he had a somewhat troubled expression.
His green eyes, silently fixed on me, revealed a complex state of mind.
He looked a bit reluctant, a bit grateful, and a bit annoyed all at once.
Regardless, only one thing was certain.
Old Man Pope didn't hate me as blindly as he had before.
Hunting the snow leopards had been worth it. So had the effort of helping out around the village as quietly as a mouse.
I offered a friendly smile and reached out my hand.
"It’s been a while, Old Man Pope."
"What do you want?"
His attitude toward me was still as chilly as ever, though.
Not that I had expected anything else.
I decided to play along with his rhythm. As he desired, I got straight to the point.
"I heard there was a fire last night. I was wondering if you could show me the way to that area."
At my request, Old Man Pope snorted.
His crooked questioning followed.
"Why would you go there? Are you planning to scavenge some burnt animal carcasses or something?"
"That wouldn't be a bad idea. But I'm a little uneasy."
At this point, I hesitated for a moment.
I was wondering how I could gain Old Man Pope's cooperation.
The conclusion I reached was simple.
I wasn't a silver-tongued orator like Reto. I was just a simple, thick-headed swordsmanship student.
There was no reason to use flowery tricks. I just had to push forward with the blunt truth.
The unvarnished truth spilled from my tongue.
"Isn't that the place where human traces were found last time?"
Old Man Pope’s mouth clamped shut.
The coniferous forest was nothing but trees. Because of that, it was easy to lose one's sense of direction the moment one entered. Most people couldn't even grasp a general heading once they stepped onto an unfamiliar path.
Only someone who had adapted to the forest's geography over many years could pinpoint an exact location.
In the elf village, the one who took on that role was the man standing before me, Old Man Pope.
He remained silent for a while before wordlessly stepping aside from the door.
Then, turning his back, he began to walk away with heavy thuds. Though he said nothing, I instinctively knew it was a silent invitation.
I carefully closed the door and stepped inside Old Man Pope’s hut.
Perhaps because he lived alone, the interior was sparse. Only the bare minimum of furniture was present, giving the place a desolate feel.
Old Man Pope set two cups down on a small table.
I took a hint and sat in the seat across from him. Old Man Pope snorted but didn't stop me.
Trickle. Hot water was poured into the cups.
It was a sign that he accepted me as a guest.
Until recently, Old Man Pope would have had a fit at the mere mention of the word 'human.' Treating me as a guest was a remarkable improvement.
He sat across from me and glared with cold eyes.
"How can I trust that?"
"Pardon?"
It was a rather sudden question.
Wait, weren't we moving toward an atmosphere of trust?
At my bewildered voice, Old Man Pope pressed me again.
"You're a human. You could choose to find those humans, sell out the village's location, and leave with them on good terms... So, I'm asking how I can trust you."
It was a difficult question.
Trust was usually unconditional. No matter how many guarantees or prices were paid, trust fundamentally stemmed from credit.
Once someone started doubting blindly, there was no answer.
How could I appeal for him to believe me? I couldn't even use my reputation or wealth, given my cover story of having lost my memory.
However, I did find the question peculiar.
If he didn't trust me, he didn't trust me; why bother dragging me into his hut to interrogate me? As I sipped the hot water, my brain began to spin rapidly.
Suddenly, Beneta came to mind.
She was the first elf I had interrogated. And the first elf I had killed.
I didn't know it then, but I believed in her sincerity now.
Beneta had given me advice without a single lie.
Because that was the elven law.
Bread for bread, a dagger for a dagger.
It was then that my tongue moved on its own.
"Shouldn't bread be repaid with bread?"
There was no answer.
Old Man Pope silently drank from his steaming cup. Regardless, I simply continued what I had to say.
"It was the elves who took me in when I had even lost my memory. I have no intention of betraying that grace. As I've shown you so far..."
"You aren't an elf."
Again, a question that pierced the core.
My lips pressed together, showing no sign of opening. It was exactly as Old Man Pope pointed out.
Bread for bread, a dagger for a dagger.
That was an elven law. There was no guarantee that I would follow it.
However, after pondering for a long time, a certain fact suddenly occurred to me.
Come to think of it, Old Man Pope said he had received a 'blessing.'
Then he must be deeply connected to the evil cult.
"I heard that the man named Leoric is also human."
Old Man Pope’s eyes instantly turned fierce.
Religion and belief were the most fragile points of the psyche. Touching them carelessly often invited disaster.
But this was the only material I had to bring up right now.
"Is the distinction between human and elf that important? Being here, I've realized something. If I live like an elf, the other residents treat me like an elf."
It was close to a confession.
This was the conclusion I had reached after spending a time that was both short and long in the elf village.
The boundary between human and elf was surprisingly faint.
The mere fact that my ears weren't pointed couldn't entirely separate me from the elves. Why had I only realized that now?
I only understood after killing so many people.
I continued as if performing a confession.
"So, please trust me just once. You are the last one, Old Man Pope."
In this village, the only elf who didn't trust me was Old Man Pope.
The old man with the appearance of a boy closed his eyes and sank into deep thought. After some time, just as the steam rising from the water cup began to fade.
Old Man Pope sighed and stood up.
With his arms crossed, he silently stared at the bow and arrows hanging on the wall.
He spoke in a pained voice.
"……I don't trust humans."
At first glance, it seemed my persuasion had failed, but there was a strange lingering resonance in his words.
As if he were hiding some inner circumstance.
Before long, he began to pour out his past.
"My wife and daughter starved to death. It was because those human bastards burned down our food storehouse... I can still vividly see them, gaunt and hollow-eyed, their mouths hanging open in vain. Do you know how painful that is? Life, as it turns out, was hell."
It was a story I had heard somewhere before.
The saying that life was rather a hell—it was the doctrine of the evil cult.
Except for Old Man Pope, that hollow slogan was reality.
"Do you think that's all? My only remaining son was murdered at the hands of humans... After that, I swore. I would live the rest of my life as penance for failing to protect my family."
The old man sighed and stroked the bow and arrows on the wall.
In that moment, his hand fumbled and untied a knot fastened to the bow.
Looking at it now, it was a peculiar vine.
At the very least, it wasn't a plant native to the North.
My questioning gaze turned toward Old Man Pope. He looked down at the vine with sunken eyes.
"But I'm so tired now... Life is still so painful. That's when you came. I wanted to deny it at one point, but I see it now. The village needs you."
Old Man Pope walked weakly toward me and held out the vine.
As I took the vine, dazed, his explanation followed.
"It’s an heirloom passed down from our ancestors. From the time we lived in the Great Forest... The village hunter would tie this vine around their ankle. That way, they wouldn't lose their way."
"By what principle?"
"I don't know anymore. The techniques of that time have long been lost."
With those blunt words, he quietly turned his back.
It was a silent order to leave.
"From now on, you are the village hunter. Take good care of Isha; she's still inexperienced in many ways."
The village hunter.
Though it had been a short time, I had realized the weight of that title while staying in the elf village.
The hunter was the village's scout and held the heavy responsibility of providing food. Furthermore, they had to fulfill the role of protecting the village with their martial prowess.
It was too heavy a burden for me.
Above all, wasn't I a stranger who would have to leave someday?
It was before I could even utter a word in surprise.
"You only need to do it while you're staying in the village."
Old Man Pope’s green eyes glanced toward me. My mouth, which had been about to make an excuse, clamped shut.
"You might leave someday, so just until then... Think of today as your first day as a hunter."
Thinking back, was searching for missing persons also the hunter's job?
I gripped the vine with a bitter smile.
If I had received such a treasure, I had to shoulder the role that came with it. The old elven proverb came to mind once more.
Bread for bread, a dagger for a dagger.
I didn't know how much longer I would stay in the elf village. However, I made a vow to myself.
For that short time, I would remain the village hunter.
And so, I became a member of the village, recognized by everyone in name and reality.
I had only one worry left.
Just how worried my companions back in Yurdina City would be.
I had to return as soon as possible. Yet, I couldn't just abandon the elf village either, so I agonized over it again and again.
It didn't take long for that dilemma to be resolved.
In a way I hadn't expected at all, my anguish came to an end.
The cause was simple.
The day I left the village and was returning after finishing the search for the missing person.
I had no choice but to stop dead in my tracks.
The village was burning.
The clashing of weapons and the sound of screams rang loudly in my ears.
It was an attack by humans.