Maestig Village
After a day and a half of travel along the road, the plains began to tilt, forming a gentle slope.
To their surprise, the vast incline—blanketed in grass like a prairie—stretched on for dozens of kilometers.
And from the point where the slope ended, a dense jungle continued all the way to the horizon: a landscape so immense it felt almost unreal.
Gazing at the Roatings Jungle that blanketed the horizon from left edge to right, Isilite let out a cry of wonder.
"Wow. You can see so far. Just reaching that horizon would take days without stopping."
"Mm."
In a world without smog, even a distance that looked easily two hundred kilometers to the horizon stood out with perfect clarity.
It was like looking at the absolute limit of vision itself.
"The elevation here is higher than I expected."
He had noticed the ground rising gradually on the way from Rehil to Wayford, but never imagined it would be this much.
Easily five hundred meters above sea level, he guessed. High enough to call it a plateau.
Maestig Village sat roughly midway down this sloping region, nestled in a basin formed by clustered hills.
Leaving the road and climbing an especially tall hill brought the village into full view.
"It's pure countryside!"
About fifty log houses were spaced generously apart, enclosed by a wooden palisade.
Around the village lay fields of potatoes, sweet potatoes, barley, and cotton, with people herding animals here and there, and a small stream cutting charmingly through the settlement—rural in every sense of the word.
Perhaps because midday temperatures hovered around thirty degrees, the clothing was quite light and felt a touch revealing. Aside from the log-house ceilings being about fifty centimeters higher than usual, the atmosphere of the village was much like Yulkam's.
Surveying the village from the hilltop, Hwanin spoke.
"Fifty households, so roughly two hundred fifty people."
"Yes. No real specialty products. They grow cotton, weave it into cloth to sell, and trade the byproducts of the occasional magic beast or monster that appears. That's about it."
Isilite studied Hwanin's expression for a moment before continuing.
"Master, what will you do there? Hide your identity and perform the soul pacification in secret?"
"It's a small village. With no visitors to speak of, doing the pacification secretly would be difficult."
"Then I'll go ahead and meet the village chief first. If you reveal your class right away, it might cause a big stir."
"…Very well."
At his nod of permission, Isilite spurred Kurti and raced down toward the village in a flash.
"Kuu?"
"It's fine. We'll take it slow."
"Kuet."
Answering Emergency Food, who was asking whether to chase after Kurti, Hwanin watched Isilite's figure shrink into the distance.
The longer he spent with her, the sharper her intuition seemed to grow.
Developing that kind of awareness later in life was no easy feat. It required constant attention to one's surroundings and a fair amount of self-reflection about one's own actions.
Moreover, at Isilite's age, most people found it easier to simply tell those around them, "Just adapt to me. If you don't like it, leave."
That she was cultivating such sensitivity was a clear measure of how sincerely she served him, and a quiet ripple stirred in Hwanin's heart.
If that attitude never changes, it would be ideal.
Even if her combat talent fell short, it wouldn't matter much.
She was a class holder and strong enough; she could serve as a porter and rear-party support. Any shortfall in fighting power could be fixed by recruiting skilled companions.
Nearly at the bottom of the hill, Isilite emerged from the village and came to his side.
"The chief of Maestig is of the Inma-jok. Seeing that more than half the villagers are Inma-jok, it must have started as a mono-species settlement."
Not a mono-surname village, but a mono-species one, then.
"I told the chief you would be visiting, so you should be able to rest comfortably tonight."
"Good work."
"Yes, Master."
Descending the hillside, Hwanin observed the villagers.
Beastkin resembling dogs, cows, sheep, cats, or bears were scarce; more than half were Inma-jok—centaur-kin with human upper bodies and equine lower halves.
Every surface in sight sloped between ten and thirty degrees, so it was clear that only such half-human, half-horse folk could live here with any ease.
Looking over those centaurs, the Inma-jok, he noticed their sizes varied wildly.
Some adults had lower bodies no larger than a pony's, while even children boasted frames as massive as a mid-sized horse.
"…?"
Hwanin's gaze settled on one particular Inma-jok.
Breasts on the chest marked her as female, yet her lower body was that of a horse. She had a plow harnessed to her equine frame and was tilling a field. Farther off, another woman pulled a loaded cart hitched to her own horse body with no apparent strain.
Peculiar.
Looking closer, the women fell into two types: those with full equine lower bodies, and those who had only horse ears and tails.
So not every woman in this world possessed a purely human appearance.
Admiring the terraced fields lining both sides of the path like rice paddies, Hwanin passed through the eastern gate of the palisade and found the villagers gathered on either side of the entrance.
"He's here."
"Is that the Soul Master?"
"Wow, a colored Kue."
Easily eighty people or more began to sparkle with excitement as one.
Clad in night-sky black attire, riding a green Kue outfitted with splendid gear, and accompanied by a class holder as his attendant—the villagers had no doubt about Hwanin's identity.
Even the boldest con artist would never dare impersonate a Soul Master, after all.
Whispers died away into breathless silence as a white-haired, elderly Inma-jok chief approached with a clopping of hooves and spoke.
"On behalf of the residents, I offer our heartfelt welcome to the honored guest who has graced our village."
"I thank you for the warm reception."
Dismounting from Emergency Food, Hwanin stepped forward and extended his hand. The chief—human male from the waist up, horse below—accepted it with both hands in reverent gratitude.
"If you would permit it, we wish to hold a feast in honor of the Soul Master. Would you allow us?"
"I am grateful for the offer, but I must decline. As I plan to leave in two days, I would prefer to spend the time examining the souls."
"Ah…! O-of course. Then I shall accompany you and attend to your needs…"
"No. If anything is required, I will convey it through my attendant. Instead, please gather the residents in the open square in about an hour."
"Y-yes. As you command."
Sending the chief back to the villagers, Hwanin drew the Soul Stick—his modified deer-antler staff—from the saddle of Emergency Food and began touring the village.
He had already noted the locations of the souls while descending the hill.
Yet some places had been hidden by buildings, so he focused on those: behind houses, in the shaded spots beneath the palisade, near the great tree in the village center. To each soul he gave the order to follow.
As expected, their self-awareness looks hazy. So the land's energy and self-awareness aren't connected?
Watching the souls trail slowly behind him, Hwanin asked Isilite, who was following with Emergency Food and Kurti.
"Have you heard anything about the communal cemeteries in the cities?"
"Only that they appoint a gravekeeper and erect a statue and shrine to the Beast God for the repose of souls."
"What about places that raise only the statue and shrine, without a gravekeeper?"
"I don't know about that."
"Hmm. Can a private individual obtain a statue separately?"
"Probably, if they make a large enough donation to a temple?"
"…"
If he could just bind even one soul for use, it would be a tremendous help in labyrinth exploration—yet the path to that goal was riddled with obstacles.
Even if he coaxed a self-aware soul out of a communal cemetery, it would be troublesome if that awareness faded. He needed countermeasures, but gathering hypotheses and proving them would take years of dedicated investment…
Perhaps I should set aside securing wandering souls for now and prioritize acquiring magical armaments first.
The souls he gathered while circling the village numbered twelve in all.
Leading them back to the central square, he found every last resident of the village gathered and murmuring.
"Everyone quiet! The Soul Master will speak now!"
At Isilite's loud call, the villagers fell silent as one.
Ascending the raised platform prepared beneath the great tree, Hwanin saw faces marked by both anxiety and curiosity.
Actions over words.
Hwanin summoned the first soul and shared a small portion of soul energy with it.
The effect was dramatic.
When the first soul appeared, the residents who remembered it caused a minor uproar. After Isilite stepped in to calm them, they all dropped to their knees and bowed their heads to Hwanin.
Thereafter he revealed the souls one by one, resolving each lingering attachment and wish in turn.
Someone wanted a final conversation. Someone needed to deliver words left unsaid. Someone longed to convey their heart. Someone wished to grant peace.
It was a small village, and every resident was present, so the attachments and wishes were resolved in short order.
Of course, there were troubles as well.
Affairs, crimes of passion, disputes over bloodlines and family registers—matters that sparked conflict.
"Your father seduced my mother first!"
"If your mother had kept herself proper, nothing like that would have—!"
KWAANG—!!
"Are you quarreling in front of the Soul Master right now?!"
But when Isilite roared and slammed her massive iron greatsword—taller than she was—into the ground with a resounding thud, the simple, classless villagers immediately took fright and made peace.
Forced reconciliation by strength naturally left residual grudges.
Yet the soul, watching the eldest sons of both families shake hands, was satisfied and attained enlightenment. Once the soul had been pacified, Hwanin had no intention of concerning himself with what came after.
After pacifying sixteen souls in this manner, Hwanin informed the awestruck chief that the purification of the wandering souls was complete.
"Truly, truly, thank you. I don't know how to express our gratitude…"
"Not at all. On the contrary, I'm pleased that so few souls were wandering—this village is spiritually clean."
At Hwanin's praise the villagers bowed their heads again in humble gratitude.
"The pacification finished earlier than expected, so I would like to rest here for the remaining schedule. As for an inn…"
"A-an inn?! We have a place prepared for someone of the Soul Master's stature. Please, this way."
Following the clearly excited chief, they arrived at a neat single-story building of brick and lime plaster.
Main house, annex, a luxurious stable for mounts, and even a clean stream flowing past the front.
Entering the house, Isilite hid her surprise at the chief trailing behind them and inspected the interior.
The walls were smooth wood with beautiful grain, the windows glass like those of a city hotel, and every piece of furniture was high-quality work by skilled hands.
There were fully four rooms, plus a bathroom for washing.
Even if it was fashionable for villages to keep one such house ready for distinguished guests, this was excessive…
"How do you find it? Is the house to your liking…?"
"It's a fine place."
At Hwanin's assessment the chief's face relaxed in relief.
"I expended considerable effort so the bereaved could converse with the departed, and I am tired. I will impose for only two days—today and tomorrow."
"Say no more! Use it as long as you wish. Th-then please rest well…"
Once the chief left and the house grew quiet, Hwanin sat in a rocking chair and let out a small sigh.
He was genuinely exhausted.
Steady mental training and practice had increased his soul energy considerably, yet sharing it with twelve souls at once had dropped the ninety percent he had been carrying down to thirty-two.
In Etbrook, I had to share about ten percent with a single soul just for it to appear faintly.
Proof that his total soul energy was steadily rising.
The drop left him feeling a slight chill, but the rocking chair sat in a patch of sunlight, which helped a little.
Almost by habit he took the blood-colored Phase Stone in hand and turned it over, catching his breath—until a small commotion broke out at the entrance.
"No, no. Don't come in. Emergency Food, your place to rest is the stable over there. Follow Kurti!"
"Kuet! Kueet! Kuu!"
"I don't understand what you're saying even when you cry…"
"Kuuuuuu…!"
"Hey! Don't push! No means no! Master needs to rest comfortably on a day like this!"
Arms full of two travel bags, Isilite shoved at Emergency Food's head with one hand, locked in a contest of strength as the bird tried to enter the house.
"Kueuet! Kyuppiit!"
"That floor carpet looks expensive just from a glance! If you walk all over it, it'll get ruined and cause trouble!"
She didn't mind Emergency Food dirtying the carpet Master used as a floor covering. The chief had lent the house with that in mind.
But if the Kue's claws snagged and tore it while walking around, that would be a breach of etiquette.
A Kue was an outdoor animal, after all.
They had even built a luxurious stable for the Kues. Bringing Emergency Food inside and causing a problem would cast doubt on Master's character.
Unable to make the bird understand and still trying to force its way in, Isilite finally snapped.
"Honestly! Emergency Food, if you keep this up you're going to get scolded! The more you act like this, the more it damages Master's reputation!"
"Ku, kue?"
Not fully understanding, but sensing the shift, Emergency Food's pressing force faltered. Isilite seized the moment and shoved hard.
"If you act recklessly, Master gets badmouthed behind his back! Being outside the house is fine, but coming inside is forbidden!"
"Kuuuu…. Kyuhing."
Her scolding seemed to work; Emergency Food gave up on entering and withdrew. Isilite sighed in relief—then immediately frowned.
Head hanging low, the bird retreated with such dejection that it looked exactly like a thoroughly scolded ten-year-old child.
But what could she do? The house had been decorated from the ground up on the premise that no pets would be allowed inside.
Shaking her head, Isilite carried Master's and her own luggage into the smallest guest room. When she emerged, she saw Hwanin beckoning and hurried over.
"You called for me?"
"I should request that the chief remove the carpet and tidy the floor."
"…You intend to let Emergency Food into the house?"
Instead of answering, Hwanin pointed to the window nearest the rocking chair.
Looking that way, Isilite was left speechless.
Beyond the wide-open double casement windows stood Emergency Food, eyes brimming as if on the verge of tears.
"…Yes. I'll go tell them."
Honestly, Emergency Food…
The request was granted at once.
The chief himself brought villagers who rolled up the floor carpets and carried them out, then laid down a colorful red-gray carpet that suited the floor perfectly, covering every gap.
"I'm sorry. We should have checked and prepared this for you from the start."
An Inu-jok man stroked his splendid bull horns and gave an embarrassed smile.
"Thank you for your efforts. That child's market value is extremely high, and he's quite the spoiled one…"
"Oh my. A green Kue should of course be raised indoors. Haha. Anyway, feel free to treat the carpet we laid roughly. The village girls made extras just in case."
"Yes, thank you."
"If anything is inconvenient, my house is the one just below—please come and tell me. I'll fix it immediately."
"I will."
"Then rest well. We'll take our leave."
"You've worked hard."
Once the village men had gone, Isilite re-entered the house and let out a soft laugh at the sight of Emergency Food curled up happily beside the rocking chair where Master sat.
Is Master that wonderful to him?
Feeling she couldn't leave without saying something, she squatted in front of Emergency Food, pinched the bird's cheek as it blinked its large, pretty eyes, and spoke.
"You. When you grow up you'll be too big to even fit through the door. What are you going to do then?"
"……Kuu."
The pouty little cry somehow made Isilite feel she understood exactly what Emergency Food had said.
Just how smart is this one? I thought he only understood Master's words, but he gets mine too.
"You won't grow any bigger? Then you won't even be able to fly with Master on your back."
"……. ……Kuet!"
This time she couldn't tell what had been said, but the fact that Master, seated in the rocking chair, let out a quiet snort of laughter meant it had been some childish reply.
Something about only his wings getting stronger, or only his body growing sturdier, no doubt.
Patting the head of the proudly posturing Emergency Food, Isilite rose—and suddenly noticed that Master was once again toying with the blood-colored Phase Stone.
Ever since she first met him, he had fiddled with that Phase Stone whenever he had a free moment.
"Master. May I ask just one thing?"
"Go ahead."
"About those two Phase Stones you keep handling. Why don't you have them processed? Especially the one you're holding now—it must have an excellent effect attached."
"Does processing make the effect better?"
"……?"
"……?"
Realizing their conversation had suddenly failed to connect, Isilite hesitated inwardly before asking.
"Um, well… Master, are you… receiving the effect even in that state?"
"……You're not supposed to be able to?"
"…No……."
"Hmm……."
Silence settled over the house.
Except for one bird whining that it was hungry.
"Kuet!"