Chapter 111: Truth……? (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 111: Truth……? (1)
The banquet, which began at nightfall, was far better than Alon had imagined.
First of all, a feast held amidst ancient ruins and giant trees, beneath the sprawling Milky Way of the night sky, possessed an inherent charm.
Secondly, and most importantly, the food was delicious.
And thirdly... the food was really delicious!
‘……This is good.’
He looked down at the meat he was eating with a surprised expression.
Unlike typical livestock, it was incredibly savory with a subtle sweetness, reminiscent of crab meat. It suited Alon’s palate perfectly.
“Wow, this is amazing!”
Evan, sitting beside him, chimed in as if reading his mind.
“Indeed.”
As Alon nodded, a woman from the tribe who had been enjoying the feast nearby—cradling two daughters in her arms—spoke with a smile.
“Aha! It is an honor to hear our tribe’s hero say so. I was the one who prepared that dish.”
“Is that so? It truly is excellent.”
“It is only because the ingredients were fresh.”
“What is this made of?”
“It is made from Stormbi.”
Alon’s jaw froze mid-chew.
“Storm... bi?”
“Yes.”
“You mean... that Stormbi?”
“Yes. That very Stormbi.”
With that final confirmation, Alon suddenly felt the urge to spit out everything in his mouth.
In this jungle, ‘Stormbi’ was the name given to insects that looked remarkably like giant cockroaches.
“I... see.”
“Oh my, are you finished already?”
“……I believe I overindulged a bit.”
Alon carefully set down the piece of Stormbi meat and glanced to his side.
Evan was practically burying his face in his plate, looking as if he intended to devour every single piece of Stormbi in the village.
Should he tell him or not? Alon hesitated for a moment before choosing silence.
Once again, Alon realized a profound life lesson: there are some things in this world that are better left unknown. He sat down on a nearby ruin and gazed up at the night sky.
The Milky Way stretching across the heavens was beautiful. It seemed even more radiant than the moonlight illuminating the earth.
It was then.
“……Marquis Palatio.”
“Hmm?”
Alon turned his head at the voice. Reinhardt was approaching slowly, seemingly recovered enough to move around.
……He, too, was chewing on a piece of Stormbi meat with great relish.
“Is it tasty?”
“Ah, this? Yes, it’s quite good. A flavor I’ve never encountered in the Kingdom.”
Well, of course you haven't…….
In fact, it would be more concerning if you had.
“So…… may I ask you something?”
“What is it?”
Reinhardt scratched his head, hesitated for a moment, and then spoke.
“Do you happen to know anything about the Hundred Ghosts?”
“The Hundred Ghosts? Are you referring to the Northern Zone?”
“Yes.”
“Well—I know of them.”
Alon answered casually.
“Just 'know of them'? You don't have any personal connection?”
“Connection? Unfortunately, this is my first time in the jungle.”
At Alon’s words, Reinhardt nodded, his expression saying, ‘I thought as much.’
“I see.”
“Why do you ask?”
“It’s nothing. I just... had a bit of a misunderstanding.”
Reinhardt turned away as if he had nothing more to say.
Alon found it odd how the man just left after saying his piece, but since it fit Reinhardt’s personality perfectly, he simply gave a stoic nod.
He watched Reinhardt walk away, tearing into another piece of Stormbi meat.
……Alon didn't have a weak stomach, but just watching it made him feel slightly queasy.
A short while later.
Once his stomach had settled, Alon returned to the banquet to try some other food. He noticed a crowd gathered in one spot and walked over.
“Indeed, the Marquis did not retreat a single step before that gargantuan god. Instead, he ascended before the god and drove his spear directly into its head!”
““Ooooooh……!””
There, he found Deus, wearing an even more solemn expression than usual, recounting the battle against Receiver Basiliora to a circle of captivated Thunder Snake tribesmen.
“The Marquis looked down upon the fallen god—no, the beast—with indifferent eyes. Without a shred of emotion, as if such a feat were only natural.”
“Oooooh—”
Watching the tribesmen marvel at Deus’s every word, Alon felt a wave of secondhand embarrassment.
It wasn't that he disliked being praised, but he wasn't thick-skinned enough to stand there and listen to his own deeds being told like a legendary epic.
He didn't want to ruin the mood while everyone was so focused, so he tried to slip away quietly.
“The beast ascended the Altar time and time again to kill the Marquis, but not once did its attacks reach him. For every time it rose, it was struck down by the Marquis’s magic.”
“……?”
Alon felt that the story, which should have been based on facts, was drifting in a strange direction.
He wanted to correct him—‘You were the one who blocked Basiliora’—but he held back.
“At that moment, Marquis Palatio looked at the serpent coiling around the Altar and brought forth a brilliant white light into the ashen sky. His appearance then was—”
As Deus’s speech grew more long-winded, sounding less like a story and more like he was preaching from a scripture, Alon couldn't help but look at him with suspicion.
If he were telling the truth, it would be one thing, but seeing him exaggerate so wildly felt like being teased by a close friend.
‘……Is he doing this on purpose to mess with me……?’
……It was a night where the Milky Way shone brightly.
* * *
The following day.
Alon decided to leave the Thunder Snake Tribe.
There was no reason to stay once Reinhardt and Deus had recovered their health.
And so.
“We look forward to seeing the Noble Guest again.”
“I look forward to it as well.”
Alon exchanged farewells with the Chieftain of the Thunder Snake Tribe, who bowed politely.
“If you ever need help, please be sure to call for us.”
“I will.”
“I’ll come to help too, definitely!”
“Thank you.”
After responding to Swift Sirkal and her younger brother, he set off.
Having started early in the morning, Alon’s party reached the explorer camp before lunch. They packed some food and continued moving, arriving at the territory before evening.
“Wow, is this the air of civilization?”
Evan made a fuss.
Beside him, Alon also wore a satisfied expression.
Even though it bordered the jungle, the humidity felt entirely different. In the jungle, clothes stuck to the skin even while standing still, which was unpleasant, but the territory wasn't that bad.
No matter how much one got used to that murderous dampness and humidity, one could never truly grow to like it.
‘I should avoid going into the jungle as much as possible from now on.’
Alon enjoyed a cozy night of rest for the first time in a while.
The next day.
“I suppose we part ways here.”
“Yes.”
He said his goodbyes to Deus in front of Caslot.
While Alon was heading east toward the Asteria Kingdom, Deus had to head west toward Calliban.
“Then, until we meet again.”
Alon gave a casual farewell.
Deus bowed in return, then suddenly asked a question.
“Marquis.”
“What is it?”
“Have I... become stronger?”
It was an abrupt question.
Alon hesitated for a moment but soon nodded.
“Yes. Anyone would think so. You are steadily growing stronger.”
In truth, he was strong enough that one might wonder if he had already reached the level of a Grand Sword Master.
“Is that so? I am glad.”
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
A gentle smile spread across Deus’s face.
As Alon watched that smile—the first one Deus had shown during this entire encounter—he wondered.
‘What is he so glad about?’
Alon shared a final farewell with Deus and parted ways at Caslot.
“Are we heading to Teria now?”
“Yes. I’d like to go straight to the Marquis’s estate, but I have to make a report. And—”
I have things to hear, he muttered to himself, recalling the face of Cretenia Siyan.
The carriage began its journey toward Teria.
* * *
While Alon was heading toward Teria.
Inside the temple tent at the center of the Thunder Snake Tribe.
“You called for me, Chieftain?”
Swift Sirkal, summoned by Wise Ashgul, entered the tent and asked.
“Sirkal.”
“Yes, Chieftain.”
“Can you recall and repeat the words the Noble Guest spoke once more?”
At the Chieftain’s request, Sirkal nodded.
“‘I, hidden beneath the low sky, shall come to you, so you who greet the dawn, welcome me with joy’—that is what he said. Just as I told you before. But why do you ask all of a sudden?”
The Chieftain, who had been looking at a scroll, raised his eyes.
“Sirkal. As you know, our Thunder Snake Tribe gives Poetic Words to our benefactors. So that they may call upon the aid of our tribe whenever they need it.”
“Yes, of course I know. And the Phrases given differ depending on the debt of gratitude, and the Poetic Word placed at the beginning is different to prevent leaks.”
The Chieftain nodded at Sirkal’s answer.
“Correct. Most of our tribe only knows the part, ‘You who greet the dawn, welcome me with joy.’ The Poetic Word given to that benefactor is recorded only in this scroll.”
Chieftain Ashgul handed the scroll to Sirkal.
“Look.”
“Pardon? But I am—”
“You have completed all preparations to become Chieftain and fulfill the Constraint. So, do not worry.”
“Ah—”
Letting out a soft exclamation, Sirkal took the scroll.
“Check it. The Phrases the Noble Guest recited.”
Following the Chieftain’s words, she carefully unfurled it.
She slowly scanned the records that shared the history of the Thunder Snake Tribe—records only the Chieftain was permitted to read—starting from the bottom.
“!”
The moment she reached the very first line of the scroll, she reflexively held her breath.
What was written on the first line was not just the Poetic Word the Noble Guest had uttered.
It was the name engraved beside that Poetic Word.
“The Lightning Receiver, Kalanon……?”
The title she whispered unconsciously was one she knew all too well.
No, it was impossible not to know it.
The Lightning Receiver Kalanon was the very first guardian deity who had protected the Thunder Snake Tribe.
Sirkal immediately looked up.
“Chieftain, then does that mean he is……?”
“Yes.”
“……But, to think he is a god just because of a Poetic Word……”
Sirkal raised a doubt.
Ashgul let out a hollow chuckle.
“Yes, you are right. No matter how we change the Poetic Words, the possibility of a leak can never be zero.”
“Then why—”
“But that Poetic Word—it is one that no one else could possibly know in the first place.”
“……Why is that?”
“Sirkal, think carefully. Think of the stories of Kalanon you have heard since you were young, the stories passed down as undeniable truth on the Sacred Slate from ancient times.”
The Sacred Slate.
An ancient holy relic that automatically engraved the chronicles of the Thunder Snake Tribe every ten years, even without anyone writing on it. Sirkal thought blankly for a moment, then—
“……Ah.”
She let out a low gasp.
The ‘Lightning Receiver Kalanon’ she had read about on the Sacred Slate had met her end while protecting the Thunder Snake Tribe from the black things.
The Thunder Snake Tribe, having received an incomparable grace from such a god, left the first Poetic Word as a promise.
Immediately after that, Kalanon truly closed her eyes.
In other words.
“……The first Poetic Word known only to Kalanon—no, to that person—could never have been leaked……?”
“Indeed. For the Chieftains, who are the only ones with the authority to see the scroll, are bound by a Constraint that prevents them from ever leaking the Poetic Word. Which means, the only person who could know that word is...”
—No one other than Kalanon herself.
At the Chieftain’s quietly echoing voice, Sirkal stood with her mouth agape, speechless.