Chapter 138: A Hero in a Fairy Tale?
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 138: A Hero in a Fairy Tale?
Two major events occur in Lake Fortress.
One is friction with other tribes, and the other is the subjugation of demonic beasts. The former happens on its own if you wait, while the latter can be heard from Darka's own lips.
Karami knew all this, but he had no intention of stepping in uninvited. This was a story for Darka to tell Azyeth. All he had to do was keep quiet and wait, not make a scene.
‘Still, I can't just sit back and do nothing.’
It was a master's duty to help a slave in need. He intended to at least build a bridge between them.
Playing the part of her friend's son, Karami smoothly entered the chief's tent and introduced Azyeth to Darka.
“Chief, this is Miss Azyeth. Miss Azyeth, please give your greetings.”
Azyeth merely tilted her head slightly.
Darka craned her neck, staring intently at Azyeth. She tilted her head from side to side like a seesaw, observing her as if she were some strange curiosity.
Her wide eyes gave off a different air than usual.
“You are…”
“Is something wrong?”
“You are……”
After staring at Azyeth for a long while, Darka's lips parted.
“What a pretty young lady!”
She uttered such a cliché.
“It's like looking at my younger self!”
“Haha, you must be well and truly mad.”
“Mad, you brat! Do you have any idea how beautiful I was in my prime?! Do you know how many men from other tribes pestered me, begging for my hand in marriage?!”
“Oh, my. I had no idea. I've said something terribly rude. I just thought you'd gone senile.”
“Insolent brat.”
Darka clicked her tongue.
She looked at Azyeth once more.
“Such a curious girl. Looking at you seems to bring back memories from long ago.”
“What kind of memories?”
“From when I was a child! My maternal grandmother used to tell me old stories. Others said they were boring, but I loved them. I'd listen while sitting by the bonfire, munching on snacks.”
“That sounds fascinating. Would you be willing to share one of those stories with us?”
“Of course! I was just looking for someone to talk to, and as always, you're the only one who thinks of me, Karami! All those other rotten brats just throw a fit whenever I try to tell them anything.”
As she spoke, Darka shot a glare at Jorn, who was watching Karami's party from a corner of the tent. Even with her dementia, she remembered the memories of being slighted with perfect clarity.
Jorn subtly averted his gaze. The man who had dedicated half his life to assisting the chief had been demoted to an enemy in an instant with Karami's arrival.
“Now, where should I begin… Yes, I should tell you about when the tribe was first formed. Our tribe's first chief was my maternal great-grandmother.”
Darka began her old tale.
She seemed excited, as most elderly people do when they get to say, "Back in my day..."
“Of course, I never met my great-grandmother, but I know she was a remarkable woman. The chiefs of Lake Fortress have always been shamans, generation after generation, and she was no different.”
Beings also known as sorcerers or shamans. They train in their arts from a young age, protecting the tribe members and praying for the village's safety. It might not seem like much, but for the tradition-valuing northerners, it is a vital role, and they serve as spiritual pillars.
“But she was no ordinary shaman.”
“How so?”
“She was a mage from a kingdom, no less! She could see the future. She foresaw a future where an evil dragon would invade the kingdom, so she escaped beforehand and established our tribe!”
“She escaped alone? And just left everyone else to die?”
“Quiet!” Darka snapped.
“It wasn't an escape! She was acting for a greater cause! If she hadn't escaped, this story would never have been passed down to future generations!”
“My, of course. What a remarkable person.”
“And she didn't just escape. She also brought a very important item from the royal family. This very magic jewel!”
“Thievery…”
“QUIET!!!”
Darka shot to her feet.
Perhaps Karami's voice was imbued with some kind of life-giving magic. Otherwise, there was no way the listless old woman could have become so energetic.
But Karami shut his mouth. If Darka got any more worked up, he felt her staff might come crashing down on his head.
Huffing, Darka plopped back down.
“You disrespectful brat. I should have known from the way you hung around with Pascal. Hah… where was I?”
“You were talking about the magic jewel.”
“Right, the magic jewel. This is the very one my great-grandmother brought with her.”
Darka held out the necklace with the Lazurite stone.
“What does it do?”
“If you hold this, you don't feel the cold.”
“Is that all?”
“Actually, there's one more secret hidden within it…”
Darka glanced around before whispering cautiously.
“This jewel is powerful enough to eliminate the cold of Eisengar. It can lift the dragon's curse.”
“Is that true? You're not lying, are you?”
“This disrespectful brat, calling an elder a liar! These were my great-grandmother's words, you punk!”
“Then why haven't you lifted the curse?”
“Because the time has not yet come. And I am not the one who will lift the curse.”
A final wish, passed down from Darka's great-grandmother, the kingdom's mage.
“She said that one day, a hero would come. That this person would bring spring to Eisengar, and when the hero arrived, I was to give them the jewel. That is the duty of our chief.”
A duty passed down through generations of chiefs. Even in her jumbled mind, Darka remembered that much with clarity.
If the hero did not come during her time, she would have to pass on the duty, along with the jewel, to the next generation, just as she had received it.
“But Pascal is still far from ready…”
Fearing that the will of her ancestors would end with her, Darka muttered with a grave expression.
If she failed to fulfill her duty, her soul would find no rest even in death, and she would become a wandering spirit. She would be doomed to roam this harsh North without purpose.
That was what the Northguard feared most. Darka's trembling hand fiddled with the necklace.
“Let it go in one ear and out the other. It's all just an old woman's nonsense.”
Jorn, who had been listening quietly, could no longer hold his tongue and cut in.
“What part is nonsense?”
“All of it. The first chief being a mage. A dragon leaving behind a curse. What power could a mere jewel possibly have to end this cold? A hero. Don't make me laugh.”
“It's not nonsense, Jorn!”
Jorn ignored Darka and continued his cold assessment.
“Do you know why fairy tales are called fairy tales? Because they don't happen in reality. Only two kinds of people believe such stories are real: naive children who know nothing of the world, or sick people.”
“Hmm, is that so?”
Karami tilted his head, feigning contemplation.
“So don't pay it any mind and…”
“There's one more.”
“What?”
“The kind of person who believes a fairy tale is real, I mean.”
Jorn narrowed his eyes, glaring at Karami.
His pupils, watching him, trembled faintly with anxiety.
“…And who might that be?”
“The residents living inside the fairy tale.”
Karami flashed a knowing smile.
He glanced once at Azyeth, then met Jorn's eyes.
“Whether this is a fairy tale built on false hope or a chronicle still being written is not for you or me to decide. That is for the reader to judge when the story is over.”
“…”
“Until then, we simply have to play our given roles as characters in the story. You, as a leader of the Northguard. Me, as the master of my slave. All while waiting for the protagonist, the hero, to make their move.”
Seeing Karami's vapid smile, Jorn clicked his tongue inwardly.
Was this the advanced rhetoric of a merchant? Whenever he spoke with Karami, he felt like he was being drawn into his pace. It was enough to fool even the straight-laced Jorn.
“What nonsense are you two talking about? Now, where was I?”
“You were at the part about giving the jewel to the hero…”
“Ah, right! I should tell you about when the tribe was first formed.”
“You already told us that…”
“It's a story my grandmother told me. You see, my great-grandmother was a famous mage in a kingdom.”
The conversation repeated like a hamster on a wheel.
Karami squeezed his eyes shut, while Azyeth listened to the story with no change in her expression.
Telling her story to the two of them, Darka looked happier than usual.
*
The days passed with Azyeth helping with the hunt and listening to Darka's stories.
Even though Darka repeated the same story over and over, Azyeth listened quietly without a single complaint.
One might think it was just because Azyeth was simple-minded, but something was subtly different. She listened intently to Darka's story—the one others dismissed as a delusion, a fairy tale.
The tribe members didn't interfere. They had been taking turns acting as a companion for the lonely Darka, forced to listen to the same story until their ears bled. Now, Azyeth was taking on that role voluntarily. If they stirred the hornet's nest, they'd have to take responsibility.
They tacitly permitted Azyeth to come and go from Darka's tent.
“Hey, you there! What kind of way is that to build a house? If you do it like this, it'll be much more efficient at keeping the cold out.”
“Ooh…! To use it like this! The skill of a dwarven craftsman is truly something else.”
The few dwarves who had come with Karami. They didn't share their know-how with just anyone, but they were the type who couldn't stand by and watch when they saw shoddy construction.
They would step up to help without even being asked. When praised by the northerners, they'd act as if it were nothing, all while their beards twitched.
‘How is their basic racial trait tsundere?’
Well, it was true that thanks to the dwarves, it was much easier to earn the northerners' favor.
After all, his entire reason for connecting the less-developed northerners with the dwarves—the undisputed masters of technology—was for this very purpose.
If they had been like elves, looking down on others and flaunting their skills, the prideful northerners would have refused their help. It was only possible because they were dwarves.
Contrary to the northerners' initial concerns, peaceful days continued after Karami's party arrived.
“Oh… what a truly beautiful woman. Would you perhaps consider selling her to me? I will pay you handsomely.”
Until a group of merchants arrived in the village.