Chapter 35
Chapter 35
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 35
Chapter Title: Infermur, the City Where the Dragon Awakens (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
*
Aynad's face was smeared with confusion, terror, and rage. It violated elven royal law, but Aynad was all but sprinting through the palace.
"Ge-General! Arms are forbidden within the—"
"Where is His Majesty!"
"His, His Majesty is currently in the sanctuary—"
"Out of my way!"
Aynad shoved the shoulder of a royal Seed Guard roughly aside and kicked the door open. Gaimeurn's palace was deep and vast. The king's sanctuary lay at its heart, and arms were strictly prohibited there.
Yet the Seed Guards could not halt the furious prince's footsteps. Moreover, they too felt the oppressive pressure blanketing the air and the commotion echoing from the sea.
"Prince. No one may enter beyond this point."
". . . Lady Meladia. Stand aside."
"If it's urgent, I will convey it to His Majesty. My deepest regrets, but please wait here a moment. The royal sanctuary admits no one save His Majesty and those granted his permission—even a prince."
"You dare give me orders?"
"It is the king's command. Obey."
"You dare!!"
Aynad's hair stood on end strand by strand. Those who reached the pinnacle of warrior arts harbored mana within their bodies.
Like a serene sea that had always been orderly, his mana erupted in fury for an instant, tearing through the air.
But Meladia was no less formidable. The king's personal bodyguard and executioner. Among all elves, none in the Gaimeurn clan surpassed her.
Meladia menacingly placed a hand on her sword hilt and coiled her body. Aynad, enraged by her stance, gripped his own hilt. The two swordsmen's postures aligned.
Regardless of emotions, they were warriors at their peak. Almost instinctively, their gazes locked on each other's intervals. Tense strain swirled between them.
"Compose yourself. We cannot harm the king's blood."
"Insolent wretch! I am a prince of the realm, and even if viewed otherwise, the admiral of the fleet! You dare—a mere guard dog watching the house—bar my way?"
"Yes, even a hound has its laws and ways. If it bares its fangs at its master, is it not the hound's duty to hold them back?"
"You dare threaten royal blood!!"
Aynad and Meladia traded barbs but did not rashly draw their blades. The foundation of elven swordsmanship lay in a single exchange deciding victory.
Posterior initiative preempted. Elves at their level could read an opponent's swordsmanship with their eyes and exploit its gaps.
Even if skills were equal, the one striking first held more than half the advantage in interval combat. They glared at each other, postures set.
Then, the sanctuary door opened, and a handmaiden in ritual robes stepped out quietly.
"His Majesty summons Prince Aynad."
". . . Very well. Meladia. I will hold you accountable for this later."
"As you should."
Meladia shrugged her shoulders, released her sword, and withdrew. Aynad ground his teeth and entered the sanctuary.
*
-Rumble...
From afar, a colossal vibration assaulted them. Every ship in the harbor smashed into one another and shattered, but Gaimeurn's flagship appeared almost unscathed despite the massive waves.
The flagship's interior remained serene, as if detached from the chaos outside. Tension rippled among the soldiers, but otherwise, with no damage to buildings or furniture, peace reigned.
The sanctuary within that haven was downright balmy. King Gaimeurn leaned against a massive tree at the center, gazing down at the approaching Aynad.
A handmaiden who had prepared a tea set on the pristine white table before him bowed quietly and withdrew from Aynad. Gaimeurn gestured languidly with a weary expression.
"Come, sit. My son. Is this your first time in the sanctuary?"
". . . Yes."
Sunlight mimicking the sun poured down from the sanctuary's ceiling. The sanctuary was blanketed in verdant grass. Aynad hesitated, then cautiously stepped onto the soil.
"Ah..."
Was the feel of the continent like this? Aynad shuddered briefly. Pureblood elves could never set foot on it, and Aynad had been born after they were driven to the seas. The touch of earth was utterly alien to him.
"Yes, the continent is like this. Some places firmer, some softer. Does it not pain you? That we elves abandoned that vast land to cling to swaying wooden coffins, wasting our days away?"
Gaimeurn sipped his tea and chuckled. Aynad quickly regained his composure and stood before Gaimeurn. Aynad looked down at him.
"Your Majesty. The dragon is awakening."
"I know."
". . . General Aildern has betrayed the elves and joined hands with Franzrit. Whatever the price, it is unforgivable treason."
"The price was simple. A desire to become vampire kin and advance into the mainland."
". . . Is that possible?"
"Possible. Who do you think sent this secret missive?"
Gaimeurn drew out Franzrit's letter, written in chicken blood. Aynad bit his lip.
"No way..."
"A rather meaningful experiment. I threw the woman I trusted most to Franzrit's bats. To cut to the chase: success. Iolande lives on the mainland."
". . . You handed... Mother... to the vampires...?"
Aynad staggered in shock and cried out.
"Why in the world?"
"Is there reason it couldn't be your mother? If it were the blood of some lowly laborer, would that be fine? From my view, your mother and all other elves weigh the same, one for one. I am king, and a king does not favor his subjects."
Moreover, Iolande was trustworthy enough. Gaimeurn smiled at Aynad. Chills ran down Aynad's spine.
The king did not see people as "individuals." He treated elves as a "race." Like ants... like a child gazing at ants.
"Aildern—that child—knew this too, at least. She personally brought Iolande to Franzrit. That must have been when she turned."
". . . The fleet faces crisis. General Aildern has blockaded the harbor, and on the mainland, the dragon's revival looms. Your Majesty. We must evacuate. The mainland is perilous."
"Would you abandon the mainland?"
"We cannot lust after what we cannot have and drive our people to slaughter!"
Aynad could not comprehend the king's actions. Elves could not tread land anyway.
Then why bind their feet to this wretched harbor and offer their precious subjects as dragon fodder?
"My son. Do you know why our race cannot tread the land?"
". . . Because our gods vanished from the Pantheon Hall?"
Elven legend held that near the end of the Celestial War, the elven gods vanished en masse, and the elves, stripped of blessing, lost continental hegemony and fell under the curse of the Holy Pantheon of Good Gods.
Human legends called it the "price of hubris." The cost of their arrogance in their days as continental overlords.
It was unjust, heartbreaking. Could hubris warrant eternal heavenly punishment for an entire race?
"We killed our gods."
". . . What...?"
"Literally. In the Celestial War, we slew our gods, intending to divide their divinity among us all. To share the gods' spirits across the race and end that interminable war. Three elves resolved as much."
Pain clouded Gaimeurn's eyes.
"They were three young elven heroes who seemed to embody every possibility, power, and blessing of the race. Gaimeurn of the Six Plains, Maleyrn of the Celestial Spire, Jerolen of the Nine Myriad Rivers. These three heroes pierced the material gateway to the Elven Pantheon Hall and slaughtered the elven gods."
It was the Celestial War's end. Elves were driven out, dwarves vanished, dragons buried, demons sealed in hell. Thus dawned the human age.
The three elven heroes razed the Elven Pantheon and seized its divinity. But as the elven gods fragmented and faded, they cursed their own children.
[You shall never tread history again.]
From that day, elves slowly declined. They could no longer forge their own history. A fallen race, wandering eternally without a nation. That was elves' place now.
The three heroes blamed each other and parted. West, east, south. Ruling the three seas, deceiving kin forever.
Thus, the Elven Trident. The three Serpent Kings.
[Our vanished gods are the evil.]
Until they came to believe it themselves.
When Gaimeurn finished, Aynad staggered and sank to his knees. He glared at Gaimeurn with blazing eyes.
"You... brought ruin upon us all!"
"You are keen. Like my own youth. My son. Thanks to you, we averted the worst. Had we not prepared for Aildern's ambush with the dragon reviving, even I might have been in peril."
Gaimeurn toyed with the missive's edge and smiled. That "human inquisitor" had done substantial work.
Had this missive not reached him, he would have been ambushed while fixated on the dragon.
Gaimeurn gazed softly at Aynad.
". . . One last question. King Gaimeurn. Why did you need the dragon?"
"Behold this tree."
Gaimeurn pointed to the massive tree rising straight from the sanctuary's grassy center. Aynad's hollow eyes followed to the tree.
"The last branch of the World Tree, sprouted anew. And that light. What do you sense?"
". . . Nothing."
"Haha. Precisely."
Gaimeurn's eyes curved with sadistic glee. That light suspended from the sanctuary ceiling—that light was—
"Our 'god.' My son. The god I slew myself. That is its fallen form. Do you know why the Holy Pantheon of Good Gods seeks mortal faith? A god stripped of faith loses its spirit's rank and plummets. Just like that! No reason or wisdom remains. Mere existence. Mere!"
"You... you're mad!"
Aynad spasmodically gripped his sword hilt. Confusion, terror, sorrow intertwined, yet his stance remained as ever—sleek, pristine offense.
Gaimeurn laughed at the sight.
"Why the dragon? A dragon's soul holds divinity, and its flesh can contain it! My son! My son! We can revive our god!"
"Do you know how many of our people will die for that mad plan!!"
"1,732. And I know how many will survive."
". . . What?"
Aynad met Gaimeurn's eyes. They were hollow as glass beads.
"The Celestial War toll for well-armed soldiers to slay one dragon. 1,732. I remember every elf sacrificed then. In this era, elves are half as sturdy. Thus 3,464. Generously, sacrifice 3,500 elite troops to fell the dragon. Then? The remaining ten thousand subjects begin new lives on the mainland."
Gaimeurn rose slowly. He turned, extending a hand toward the radiant ceiling orb.
"Then our god returns to us. That wretched god, devoid of memory—we make our chamberlain at last, lift our curse, and tread the mainland once more, commanding! Death? No, no. All this is sacrifice. I shall remember those heroes' names."
Gaimeurn laughed maniacally at the orb. Regret, sorrow, madness, love, attachment—all his emotions scattered in splendor. Watching, Aynad resolved.
-CRUNCH.
"Guh... ack?"
"You're mad. We cannot entrust our people's future to your hands. Gaimeurn."
Aynad's sword plunged into Gaimeurn's chest, piercing straight through the heart.
Gaimeurn was immortal in lifespan, but not in body. An elf who could perish from fleshly wounds.
-CRUNCH.
"Gahk..."
"Elves do not offer their children as sacrifices. We do not place our souls on others' scales. Gaimeurn."
-CRACK.
Aynad twisted the blade once, then withdrew it. Crimson blood trickled down the edge. Aynad flicked the sword clean and sheathed it.
Gaimeurn slowly crumbled to the floor. The grass drank the king's blood, staining red.
"Foolish... It's not yet time..."
"Elves will not perish. King Gaimeurn. Elves do not sacrifice. The curse born of your hubris and desire—I shall end it in my generation. In my way."
Gaimeurn lay gasping on the floor, slowly smiling. Not yet time, but... well grown.
"Thank you."
"What?"
"You grew well. My son. You grew well."
-CRACKLE.
The king's flesh began twisting grotesquely. Aynad recoiled hastily, staring vacantly at the horror.
Immense pressure crushed his body. Like a dragon—no, like a god.
[The three heroes divided the Elven Pantheon's divinity.]
[The elven king was ever-living, but not immortal.]
[The royal line had known no succession thus far.]
[Yet Aynad was the sole royal blood.]
Information swirled in Aynad's mind. How? Why? Why no siblings? Over those endless years, did King Gaimeurn sire no other children?
Unless...
Unless not?
How then to hold the throne for millennia, if not so?
-CRACK!
Gaimeurn's twisted face burrowed into Aynad's body in an instant.
*
-Rumble...
"Still unstable."
Aynad lifted a trembling teacup to his lips. Setting it down, he smiled quietly.
Now, even in the palace's deepest sanctum, it was clear. The dragon had appeared. The dragon had returned. The drake had come.
Infermur ablaze stood vivid before his eyes. Human vermin clutched their heads, gasping in draconic terror, unable to stir.
The dragon ignored them, charging seaward. Its mere movement was overwhelming violence. Flames endlessly poured from its maw.
Avatar of destruction, world's predator. Primordial ruler. Dragon, wyrm, Atailatl. Our beloved chalice.
"Come to me soon. I have waited two thousand years. Dragon."
Aynad smiled viciously. His face grew ever more like King Gaimeurn's.