Chapter 151
Chapter 151
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 151
Chapter Title: Ruins and Revelations
-----------------------------------------------------------------
That small mountain hamlet was half in ruins. Corpses with flesh gruesomely gnawed away to expose bone lay scattered across the blood-soaked dirt.
"Here too, hit by the corpse crows. Lucky in a way, at least their bodies weren't taken over."
Miria said.
Every village they'd passed so far had turned out to be a wasteland. An ominous aura, impossible to explain, lingered over the mountains.
"Witch..."
Among the corpses she glanced at was a woman in blue robes and a pointed hat.
The Republic's Witch Association stationed one witch per three or four villages to spread the dragons' teachings, but this one seemed to have died in the raid.
Burying over fifty bodies by herself looked like a tough job for Miria. If she could use earth magic, it'd be over in a flash...
He grabbed a shovel to help, carefully probing for details as they worked.
"All I know is that a black church group called Luzaihien has started moving in earnest. About a month ago, I think."
Luzaihien? If his memory served, that was primitive tongue for "obsession." Bastards—obsessed with some grand cause, huh.
Whatever it meant, they had no choice but to hurry onward. Before more victims appeared.
Once the grave was filled, he clasped his hands in prayer. Aki tilted her head.
"Au?"
"This is praying. To help the souls of the dead reach the gods' side."
"Prayer, prayer, prayer."
Whether she understood or what she was praying for, no one knew, but Aki clumsily clasped her own hands and squeezed her eyes shut, mimicking him.
- A man who knows how to pray for others is a truly handsome man, Lin.
The memory hit hard: three hundred years ago, amid the chaos of war, Fride kneeling beside the fallen, offering fervent prayers one by one, tears streaming down her face. His nose stung for no reason.
That night, as always, they slipped through goblin tunnels to evade the three-eyed crows.
The next day, they crossed the Chochongrim, a highland plateau midway up the mountains. The crimson trees of the Red Pet Forest had absorbed foul energies and purified them, but now only barren stumps remained.
The largest could fit ten grown adults lying end to end; the smallest was big enough for him and Aki sprawled out.
"Hate, hate, hate, hate."
Pipi hopped from stump to stump, barking mournfully enough to ache the heart.
Fride had told him the forest's tales.
When her heart felt heavy, wandering here with Pipi would burn away all her inner knots, leaving her refreshed.
For Pipi, this place held memories of days with Fride.
"This Luzaihien's doing too?"
"Probably not."
"What do you mean?"
"Chochong trees have aesthetic appeal. Their rings shimmer like flickering flames. Probably used as art pieces."
"So civilians chopped them all down and hauled them off? What are the Republic's Senate doing?"
Miria let out a weary sigh and spouted something baffling.
"The Senate? Where's the Senate in the Republic these days?"
He was the one baffled.
'Where's the Senate?'
That was like saying the Holy Human Empire had no Imperial Council of the Five Elector-Princes.
Back when the Red Dragon Legion ruled the Republic, dragons stationed in each city attended the Senate as consuls, debating matters large and small.
A Fire Dragon could rule alone, but she wanted humanity to grasp the gods' teaching that "all humans are equal."
'So the consuls brought plebeians—mostly witches—as tribunes to the Senate and taught them republican ways...'
With the legions gone, he figured shrine maidens and witches had taken over those roles. Had some massive upheaval shaken the foundations?
He got his answer the next day, in a village called Soldos.
Nestled in a mountain cleft, it hugged a small stream and was ringed by thick log walls—more fortress than village.
If this were Empire territory, a ruler's banner would fly, but in the egalitarian Dragonkin Republic, there were none.
"Hey, safe to stop in a place like this? Weren't we avoiding people's eyes?"
"Don't worry. These folks are trustworthy. Plus, I need to restock blades, arrows, that sort of thing."
As the gate of lashed logs swung open, Miria casually doffed her helmet and shook out her hair.
Oddly, villagers greeted her by name with warmth, but the men with longbows—especially the young ones—glared at him suspiciously.
"Who's this guy?"
"Miria brought him."
"Empire scum! Gigolo with a kid in tow, eyeing our women? If you're gonna line up, stand straight."
"What line?"
Miria shot them a contemptuous glare, and they backed off with sheepish grins.
Laughter drifted from the stream, where women and children netted river fish. Beneath the walls, old women carved wood into longbow arrows.
Representing the village, a witch who looked like a lump of white pudding welcomed them. Beneath her blue pointed hat was a squat, plump middle-aged woman.
"Well, if it isn't the ravishing swordswoman Miria, forever beautiful from bathing in goblin blood."
The woman fussed, wiping sweat from her face with long sleeve flaps, beaming good-naturedly.
"Bathing in their blood just stinks. Use bile or stomach acid instead."
Ignoring Miria's sigh and retort, the pudding witch turned to him.
"So, what's this prince Miria rescued from the goblin caves like? I'm Yukien. My master—who died of high blood pressure mid-shit thirty years back—nicknamed me Qingxing. A bit later, and it'd have been 'Potbelly Witch.' Hohoho."
He knew right away.
This one's a riot.
"Rain. This is my late-born little sister Aki, and this is my familiar Pipi."
"Pipi? Oh my. You know every witch dreams of raising a sun parrot and naming it Pipi?"
Fire Dragon's Shrine Maiden Fride was still revered almost worshipfully by witches even after three centuries.
Pipi took a shine to Yukien too, landing on her shoulder and tilting her beak. But when Yukien let out a sudden burp, she bolted.
"Oh dear. Forgive my burp, Lady Pipi. At my age, you can't hold in farts or burps anymore."
"Pipi forgives. She's a fake, though—narrow-minded compared to the original Pipi Fride raised."
"What? What? What? What?"
No sooner had he teased than retribution's beak stabbed his scalp.
"Good thing. Oh, listen to me. You must be worn out crossing the Red Mountains' brutal summer heat. How about a bath then dinner? Not as plump as me, but we've got fat geese ready."
In these darkening times, a village like this was a marvel.
The positive energy flowing through it seemed to stem from this witch. Her playful demeanor hid a gentle nature that strongly evoked Fride.
Pipi landing on her shoulder at first sight meant she felt it too.
"Hey."
While he chatted with Yukien, Miria—who'd unbelted her sword, shed armor and gauntlets, and was kneading Aki's cheeks (when did she sneak off?)—froze mid-motion.
When Aki went "Au," Miria smiled softly, looking less like a cold-blooded goblin slayer and more like a girl full of laughter and mischief.
The smile faded, replaced by reluctance and pouty regret as she turned to him. Probably thought he'd ask for Aki back.
"Go wash Aki first."
"What?"
"Washing that kid's no joke—brace yourself. Don't let her eat the soap. I need to talk with the witch."
Stunned by his words, Miria blinked blankly. She quickly turned her head away to hide it.
"If that's what you want, I suppose I could."
"Seems like what you want."
"What'd you say?"
"Nothing."
She stared, sizing him up, then scooped Aki and hurried off before she could change her mind.
He and Yukien watched fondly, then entered the witch's house.
It overflowed with herbs and potions, worn books and scrolls, hymnals, and thirty Dragon Scriptures piled like junk.
"My master said folks who know how to care for babies are good people."
A tapestry on the wall depicted the Fire Dragon blasting the abyss to save humanity.
"You'd know even without me saying—he's a very good boy."
As Yukien fetched teacups from a shelf, he shrugged playfully.
"He says otherwise. Claims he's all about the money."
"That's what he says. But if he weren't good, he wouldn't have come when three hundred goblins attacked this village, or guarded us while we built the walls, or taken just twenty Raltino coppers as payment."
It clicked.
Why every single villager had welcomed Miria so warmly, no exceptions.
"The Dragon's Guardian would know. Since the dragons chose you. This is Boruno Peak red tea. Divine aroma."
He picked up the cup, then set it down as wariness surged.
"How did you know?"
"At a certain level, witches can smell souls. That child's not your late-born sister—she's a dragon, isn't she?"
Yukien sipped, sighing in satisfaction.
"I've felt the mountains rejoicing since a week ago. Spirits danced, winds sang. They know their master's returned."
"No point hiding it, then. Yes."
"Yes, yes, yes."
If only she could confirm Miria was Rista. But since she hadn't spotted him as Lin or Pipi as the real deal, slim chance.
Makes sense.
No witch lives three hundred years. No human does. Not even the most virtuous.
"But to return in such brutal times. Or... did the abyss's servants start rampaging because a young dragon came home? Hmm."
"Speaking of, I noticed odd things on the way. All the chochong trees felled. Villages turned to ruins. Why's the Senate letting this slide...?"
"Scold, scold, scold, scold."
"The Senate? Guardian, you're chasing long shadows of the past. The era of the Republic living under shrine maidens' guidance, blending faith and state? That's over. Over far too long ago."
Unlike the Holy Human Empire's constant throne-shuffles, the Dragonkin Republic had thrived in its golden age under Kars Dargonia—the dragons' peace.
From southern Aktrad Continent to central Adrion, seven grand cities rose in vast, orderly territory.
Once home to dragonkin, they'd ruled nearby towns and villages broadly. Three hundred years back.
"That era—witches spreading dragon teachings, citizens heeding them—ended with Fire Dragon's Shrine Maiden Fride and great shrine maiden Tureina..."
"About two hundred years ago? Tureina served around then."
Tureina died in his childhood, but her shrine maiden days were two centuries past.
"Yes. The seven cities splintered into city-states, each with their own rule and culture. The wilds beyond are ruled by six sects and three caravans like tiger clans, taking 'protection' tribute."
"What...?"
"The current Republic's a city-league system—Chilgyeong Yukmun Sam Pyo, for short."
He was so floored he forgot how to blink.
What?
What the hell happened?
He'd heard Republic history and politics from Fride till his ears bled, so he'd skipped that section in family history lessons. Regretted it now.
"You're lucky to remember the Republic's glory. Now... witches prefer cities over remote shrines, worldly pursuits. Human consuls barely know Dragon Scriptures."
"..."
"Honest, faithful ones are few. Tureina's last disciple, Julianna, fights on..."
Brutal times, but pride swelled—almost choked him.
The Republic was truly republican in Fride and Tureina's era... And their disciple Julianna was honest too.
He recalled foxkin Beduel, living diligently to boast ancestors' feats to the hero Enuel's return.
Thinking of Beduel sent chills down his spine.
All this felt like a meticulous plan unfolding in someone's palm.
Just like sowing discord between beastkin and humans over five centuries.
"Even the Gold Dragon Legion at least pretended to follow the Light's guidance..."
"But post-Black Sun Crisis, even their power waned, so everyone does as they please now."
So said a woman with damp golden hair wafting fresh lilac scent.
"The Witch Association splintered too, so Luzaihien struts openly without unified opposition."
Dawn light piercing darkness... For a moment, world and time forgotten, he overlaid an old friend's face on hers.
Miria's hair was short—even shorter than his now, no comparison to Rista's.
Yet her eyes, hair, curves peeking from the cowhide vest—all more purely alluring than any dressed-up, made-up noble lady.
Misreading his stare, Miria glanced at drowsy Aki in her arms and bit her lip.
"Here."
"Hm?"
"No 'hm'—no soap eaten, washed clean. Slept like a log now, but a handful earlier."
He chuckled dryly, taking Aki back into his arms.
"Keep her."
"What? Thought she was mellow, but post-bath she kept calling for you. Took effort to calm her. Aki wants to be with you."
"You're already washed—why take her? Been ages since I soaked leisurely. Pipi needs a bath too."
Above all, prying her away from that doting embrace felt wrong.
Sleeping in someone else's arms but not his? A bit jealous... Traitor kid—no such thoughts. Really. Totally.
Miria flashed a translucent smile, then bashfully buried her face in Aki's hair, cheeks flushing shy.
"Then... I'll hold her till you're done bathing."
Miria's hidden bright warmth behind her icy facade felt oddly alluring.
Rista was always so bright and aggressive, he was always on the receiving end... The thought brought a bittersweet smile.
While scrubbing off sweat with Pipi in hot water, he pondered the Republic's upheavals, what lay ahead, and Miria.
'Had it been anyone else, anywhere else, I'd never entrust Aki to them, not even dead.'
So why had he?
Maybe Miria's Rista-likeness aside, he just liked her character. Yukien too.
And the next day, they headed for Oltaris, a riverside fishing village—the Witch Association rendezvous.