Chapter 78: Crackle—!
A massive bonfire erupted in the plaza with a mighty crackle!
Thud-thud-clap! People stomped their feet in rhythm with the clapping applause. Faces alight with joy, they linked arms with their partners and spun in circles. Onlookers watching the dance clapped along to the beat.
A bard strummed his lute in time with the horn player's melody from the platform.
"Splendid!"
From a bench outside the inn, Loki watched the scene, clapping and stomping his own feet in sync. The sight of the plaza filled with revelers dancing merrily set his own body swaying. Yes, this was the romance he craved!
In Ronia, he'd only seen gloom and misery.
Wasn't this what fantasy was all about?
"You like it? Hoon!"
A beastkin beside him, clearly pleased by Loki's enthusiasm, downed his beer mug and let out a satisfied "Ahh." Beer foam clung to his lips as his animal ears twitched happily.
The cat beastkin, Karen, beamed with pride that a foreigner appreciated her kingdom's festival.
She stared openly at Loki, her guest.
This guy's not a Nord, right?
From her father, the king of Nodrian, she'd heard tales of the Nords since childhood. A noble warrior clan. But on the western continent, rumors painted them as mere raiders.
She'd heard there was only one mage among the Nords—Shaman—and figured Loki was just a slave mage captured by them.
Which made sense, because...
He crossed the sea on foot!
While tending the lighthouse and gazing at the ocean waves, Karen had spotted Loki walking across the water. Seeing him enjoy the festival eased her wariness. When she approached, he didn't flee—instead, he even asked her for directions.
"Yes, the North feels wild and exhilarating, but this place has a soft, warm vibe."
"Hehe."
Her lips curved into a grin at the praise for her kingdom's culture.
The inn patrons noticed her innocent delight and greeted her warmly.
"Oh! Lady Karen?"
"Here for the festival?"
"Yeah! I'm gonna have fun! You guys too!"
They smiled fondly at her pure-hearted reply and waved her off casually.
They spotted Loki but pretended not to notice.
Karen shot Loki a curious look, realizing it.
"Those folks didn't see you, Hoon?"
"That's normal. I've suppressed my presence."
"Magic?"
"Something like that."
But why had this cat beastkin sensed him and followed? How could she perceive him?
"Then how can you see me?"
"See you?"
Karen tilted her head, then swayed side to side as she replied.
"I smell you!"
"Smell?"
"Yeah. You smell warm and cozy."
"Do I?"
"Yep, like fire. Deeply ingrained."
"...I see."
Did fire have a scent? What kind that she'd track him by?
"So why'd you sneak in, Hoon? Scouting?"
"Yeah, exactly."
"You can just say it straight?"
"And why didn't you alert the guards when you caught me sneaking?"
"Dad said we can't be rude to the Nord guests coming soon. Especially me—I can't afford mistakes, he warned."
Karen's ears drooped like wilted leaves.
"...He says I do a lot of dumb stuff."
"Really? Well, I'm very satisfied with your guidance."
"For real?"
"Yes."
"Hehe...!"
Ordinary nobles might find her rude—her casual speech and lack of distance. Reckless, even. Despite being reinforcements, a foreign soldier sneaking in warranted caution, yet she treated him like an old friend.
When Loki pointed it out, she answered simply.
"You enjoyed our festival, right? Bad guys don't smile that happily!"
Loki was speechless.
Had he been smiling?
Well, I'm in a good mood lately.
With goals achieved, his anxiety had faded, letting him savor the festival lightly.
"Still, you're too unguarded."
"It's fine! I'm strong!"
"...You do seem it."
She can handle most threats herself.
Even if by scent, she'd tailed him competently.
The locals treat her without reservation too—shows how close she is to her people.
Ah, not territory—a kingdom!
Loki licked his lips.
"Hey, hey, wanna dance?"
"Dance?"
"Yeah! Yeah!"
Loki glanced at the performers on the platform and the dancers around them.
"No, I—"
"Come on!"
Karen grabbed his hand and pulled him to the plaza. They clapped, stomped, and danced face-to-face in rhythm. Loki felt awkward, but a smile crept onto his face.
On a mountainside overlooking the Nodrian Kingdom, figures in the forest peered down.
"Mad fools."
Men in furs and black war paint chuckled derisively. Soldiers of the Forman Kingdom.
"Daring to hold a festival right under our watchful eyes?"
The soldiers froze, startled, and turned toward the voice before bowing and stepping back.
"Heard the Nords are crazy, but ballsy enough to let 'em hang out?"
A warrior over two meters tall with a halberd on his back—King Potur of Forman.
"Or a funeral rite for their end?"
"Word is, they've made progress on the troop request to their homeland. Probably distracting from anxiety too. Continentals use festivals to soothe the masses."
A black-robed mage stepped forward beside Potur. The king gazed at him fondly—his son Chaser, a black magic prodigy trained on the continent.
"Oh! My son!"
"This won't be a long war, Father. The one to claim Astoria Island's hegemony can't waste time on a puny kingdom like this."
Potur grinned down at the festival.
"Right you are. Turn those bright smiles to screams, the fireworks to pyres, corpses on display... Then they'll learn."
A blood festival would break the Nodrian king.
"Prepare to march. Send spies to eliminate the Nords they summoned."
Crush Nodrian with the army, slaughter the reinforcements, drown them in despair.
Not enough? Another way.
"Capture the Nodrian king's children. Nothing more useful for threats than a father who cherishes his offspring."
Potur knew well—he had a son!
"Then, Father, entrust that task to me."
"To you?"
"Yes. My black magic will prove your greatness."
"Haha! Yes, my son! I trust you!"
Potur smiled proudly at his dutiful boy.
"Whew... tiring."
After awkwardly dancing with Karen, Loki slumped on the bench, mentally drained. Few approached him so casually. Even Kankun wasn't this friendly.
As he rested, Karen hummed and waved at a horse pulling a cart nearby. It trotted over, nuzzling her hand.
"Animals love you."
"Yeah! Every beast in the kingdom takes to my hand!"
Beastkin trait? She handled them expertly—knew their habits, aiding growth, quality, breeding.
"Huh?"
Karen sniffed, furrowing her brow.
"Something wrong?"
"Nah? Nothing."
She shook her head with a grin, then pointed to the hilltop castle of stone and trees.
"Anyway, Hoon, you're a guest—let's go to the palace where Dad is!"
"Who's your father?"
"The king!"
Not a noble lady—a royal!
"Surprised?"
She grinned and scampered into the market alley.
"Where you going?"
"To play! Dad said stay out—don't wanna rude to guests!"
By mumbling to herself, she vanished into the alley.
Loki eyed the crowd. Folks who'd watched her now followed.
He alternated glances between her alley and the palace.
"Hm, well, since I'm here."
He stood and headed after her.
"Might as well play a bit more."
Karen sniffed.
This is...
Blood. Thick and heavy.
Blood at a festival?
She slipped into the alley's shadows. Around the corner, men huddled in a dead end, beast masks hiding faces that seemed festival-goers chatting.
"Oh, Lady Karen?"
"Princess, enjoying the festival? Care to dance with us...?"
They approached amiably.
"Who are you?"
But Karen showed no warmth. Her eyes sharpened with killing intent.
Even as her eyes glowed green in the dark, they didn't retreat.
"Pardon? Haha... what do you—"
"You're not Nodrian."
"......"
"I know every scent in this kingdom. Yours is foul."
Heavy makeup, blood, burnt flesh—like the Forman soldiers who'd invaded before.
"...Can't even spy right? Caught the moment you sneaked in?"
A robed figure with a staff emerged from the shadows—black mage Chaser, Potur's son.
"And Princess, you're warier than I heard. Thought you'd follow like a dumb dog."
"I'm not a dog. I'm a cat."
"Ah, I like cats. Especially grown ones. Crushing that haughtiness is such fun..."
Chaser advanced step by step.
"But even beastkin aren't that stupid, right? Coming alone."
"Everyone's at the festival. You'd make them uneasy. And Dad'll be thrilled if I catch you."
"Aw, so kind! But beastly instincts—offering prey. Can you take us all?"
Men circled behind her. Surrounded.
"I'm strong. I can catch you all. And..."
She sniffed.
"...I was alone. Not anymore."
"What?"
"Karen."
Chill ran down Chaser's spine. Something emerged from the shadows behind him.
He turned creakily. A man in a raven mask loomed, staring down at him.