Chapter 29
Chapter 29
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 29
Chapter Title: Silask
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As the response was delayed, Kakantir turned to look at Ian.
Ian lowered his head slightly and replied.
"Yes."
Was it because they were a tribe that worshipped the heavens? Or did he know that another Ian lurked within this Ian and asked on that account? Winchen smacked his lips as if savoring Ian's succinct answer.
"You are one born of Derga Bratz's blood?"
"Without a doubt."
"Does your existence signify peace?"
"I swear, peace alone is the reason for my being."
A smile played on Winchen's lips. Kakantir nodded and silently gestured to his attendants, who laid Winchen back down on his bedding.
"Then we shall take our leave."
"Rest well, leader. The desert storms lately are too fierce. It's because the heavens have grown hotter."
The old man's faint mutter lingered in the tent.
As Ian stepped outside, the tense Cheonryeo tribespeople, who had been rigid with anticipation, scanned Kakantir's expression.
"Give the tent to Ian Bratz and his companions."
This was an indirect proclamation that Ian was indeed a child of House Bratz. It also meant that the grueling peace negotiations had officially concluded.
Su let out a sigh of relief and called to Ian.
"Ian. Over here."
"Me? Sharing the same tent?"
"What about it? Think you're so precious they'll give you your own room?"
As Su snapped at him, Berik whispered to Ian.
"For a warrior, she's got such a narrow mind. Why's she only like that with me? Wasn't it you who started the teasing that day?"
"True, Berik. But you're the one who shoved your fist right in."
"Huh? Trying to weasel out like that?"
The tent assigned to Ian was in better condition than expected. Not particularly luxurious, but there was no sense of mistreatment as if he were a sacrificial offering from an enemy state.
*How strange. Didn't they say relations turned quite frigid after Derga's older brother crossed the border and died?*
Of course, the tribal leader then was not the current Kakantir. Given how readily leaders changed among them, that one might be ancient history in their chronicles.
If so, shouldn't their perceptions and relations have shifted accordingly? These people were not the merciless savages described back at the Bratz estate.
*Cold but not cold-blooded, free but not barbaric.*
That was Ian's assessment.
Berik unpacked their sand-caked belongings and asked.
"So, what now?"
"First, I need to wash up a bit."
"I mean after that. You're not planning to live here forever, right?"
True enough.
But for Ian to return to Bariel, it would have to be after Molin led the inspectors from the capital and severed Derga's head.
He had probably just arrived at the capital by now. It would take a fortnight to a month to descend and carry out the deed.
"Think of it as a trip. This place is full of people you can't beat, so even fighting one a day would pass a year in no time."
"A year? You're kidding."
"Joking. A fortnight. A month at most."
Berik shot him a glare that cursed silently with his eyes and flopped onto the bed. A wandering life—anywhere with a bed would do—but the desert heat was utterly unbearable.
"Ian."
Rustle—
Su entered, lifting the tent flap. She set down some clothes and simple snacks, glancing around the interior as if checking for shortages.
"Eat first. Everyone's busy shaking off their travel fatigue. There'll be a return ceremony at sunset, so I'll come fetch you then. Oh, and—"
Su, who had been about to hurry out, paused and turned back.
"Rangyarun said the storm was really bad. The biggest and most threatening one he's ever seen. He broke through it bare-handed, so nothing got swept away, but if your group had run into it, it would've been trouble."
"I see."
Was she hoping for thanks? Ian smiled and credited Kakantir.
"The chieftain's judgment was truly wise."
At the praise for their leader, Su's face lit up brightly. Then she slipped out of the tent. Berik, staring blankly after her, muttered irritably.
"…Yeah, she's definitely only like that with me."
"Hurt?"
"Shut up!"
Berik waved his hand dismissively and dove into the bed. Covered in sand as he was, he collapsed like he was dead to the world. After days enduring the elements outside, exhaustion had claimed him. Ian pondered for a moment, then unwittingly fell asleep as well.
* * *
Boom boom! Boom! Boom!
Ian opened his eyes to the sound of drums echoing from somewhere.
Outside was dark. Night had fallen. The only light in the tent was the milky glow of the galaxy. As Ian went to shake Berik, Su lifted the flap again.
"Ian? Berik?"
"Mmm……."
"Come on out. Everyone's waiting."
Still groggy from sleep, Ian and Berik staggered after Su. At the inner part of the encampment stood a white building. Su opened the door, revealing an unbelievable sight.
"Ahahaha!"
"One more time! Hey, can't handle it already?"
"Remember what I told you last time? That was spot on!"
Cheonryeo people adorned in red pigments and gold danced and reveled. Piles of meat and alcohol stacked between them. Incense burned, filling the air with subtle smoke.
Dancers swept by laughing, and the musicians quickened their tempo.
"Good heavens."
Ian had never seen or even heard of such a feast. Under the orange lantern light, everything seemed utterly free. Berik rubbed his cheeks, suddenly wide awake.
"Ian. Berik."
Kakantir, seated at the head table, called to them. A dried leaf dangled from his mouth, smoldering like a torch.
*Gurut Leaf.*
So that's what a Gurut Leaf looks like. The thought made Ian inhale deeply. The scent was strikingly similar to what he'd smelled in Winchen's tent. Not cinnamon, but Gurut Leaf after all.
"Ah. Why do I feel like this?"
"Like what?"
"…Like beating the crap out of everyone."
"Keep your mouth shut."
The two whispered as they approached Kakantir. Beside him, Nersarn and other high-ranking tribespeople enjoyed the revelry.
"Travel fatigue eased?"
"Thanks to your consideration, Chieftain."
"Good. Sit."
Ian felt all eyes on him. But only for a moment. They soon returned to their pleasures, laughing and chatting. Kakantir poured grape wine into Ian's cup.
"By the way. That map you gave us. Does the count or anyone in House Bratz know of it?"
"No. My teacher passed it to me in secret before leaving. He departed Bratz immediately and headed to the Blaster Sea via the northern lands."
Kakantir burst into satisfied laughter. With an exceedingly friendly glance, he urged Ian to take some meat. It seemed he'd heard reports from his subordinates about the storm.
"Everything about you was given by Bratz for the Cheonryeo. So this map can be used for the Cheonryeo as well?"
"As you wish."
In any case, the Cheonryeo would accompany them back to Bratz. After that, there'd be no need to cross the Great Desert, so what use would the map be? Better to yield the small and paint the big picture.
"Derga Bratz raised at least one fine son."
"My father would be overjoyed to hear that."
The conversation ended there. The singing grew louder. While briefly pondering the Gurut Leaf, Ian sensed an unfamiliar gaze.
*Hm?*
In a seat second from Nersarn. A man was staring piercingly at Ian. Their eyes met, and he lightly curled his lips, sending some kind of signal.
"Su. Who's that?"
When the surroundings grew briefly chaotic, Ian nodded toward the man and asked. Su sipped her wine and replied.
"Bumart? He's family to Nersarn-nim. His cousin from his second stepmother's side. He's in charge of food management."
Ian didn't fully grasp it, but by their standards, they were kin. His seat near the head suggested high status. But why did he keep staring?
*Suspicious.*
Ian deliberately shook off the gaze and asked Su, as innocently as possible. As if curiosity alone colored his words, free of any other emotion.
"That's Gurut Leaf everyone's chewing on?"
Su nodded, and Ian was about to ask if he could try one too. But Kakantir thrust out his cup, cutting in.
"Ian. To stay safe here, there are a few rules you must follow."
"Please speak."
"One is to show not the slightest interest in Gurut Leaf. No questions allowed. The smoke from daily life is unavoidable, but everything else is forbidden."
That meant a vast difference between inhaling the smoke and chewing it directly.
The heated revelry cooled somewhat. Those who heard Kakantir's words instinctively raised sharp guards.
"I'll keep it in mind."
Ian nodded and replied thus. Beside him, Berik was too busy stuffing his face with meat to notice.
"Then enjoy. To our return."
"Yes, Chieftain Kakantir."
Right. This was a return ceremony, not a welcome for outsiders. Ian had grasped the overall atmosphere and was about to wrap up.
But...
"Chieftain!"
One tribesman hurried over and whispered in Kakantir's ear. He immediately set down his food and signaled Nersarn. The revelers, too drunk on fun, didn't notice the leaders slip away.
*What's going on?*
Su stared at the floor and muttered.
"Winchen-nim must've had another fit. I saw the healer following just now."
"I see. His condition must be poor."
"The chieftain's checking first so no one worries."
"No remedy?"
Su smiled faintly and shrugged. All was by the gods' will; even healers couldn't stop it. They could only hope Winchen-nim wouldn't suffer too much.
"Berik. Let's go."
"Huh? Why? I need to eat more……."
"Now."
If something happened to Winchen, better not to be here. Su might not look after them then. Know when to enter and exit. They weren't the stars here—this was enough.
Clatter clatter!
And that judgment proved right.
Dawn the next morning. Noisy sounds outside jolted Ian awake. It felt like war had broken out.
"Winchen-nim's completely unconscious?"
"Oh no... What do we do?"
"What about the chieftain? What's the plan?"
"He said he'll dispatch more people. The illness is too apparent now; no choice."
Dispatch people? Probably some measure to cure Winchen's disease. Ian leaned against the window and closed his eyes. Drowsy, his mind fogged.
"Looking for Silask?"
"The first group hasn't even returned yet……."
"Is there such a thing as a flower that blooms fully and lasts forever? I doubt it exists."
At that, Ian's eyes snapped open.
What did they just say? A flower that blooms fully and goes eternally? Silask?
*-That potted plant from the park.*
*-It's a rare flower. Stayed in full bloom for so long.*
*-No one at the estate knows what it is?*
*-Yes. First time seeing it. Worried it might be poisonous, but seems not.*
Ian recalled the conversation with Lord Molin at the estate. He pulled out the well-packed potted plant from its box and unwrapped it. The red flower that hadn't wilted once since the park.
"…Huh?"
No way, right?
Ian carefully set the pot on the floor. And instinctively realized. Why he had reincarnated into bastard Ian's body. Everything flowed under the gods' plan.