Your Name Is Garam
Raon slung Belga over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes.
A Chungru... speaking?
The Chungru Tribe communicated through beast-like cries. Even clumsy as it had been, the fact that this one had used human language was almost impossible to believe.
"Who are you?"
He asked, raising a wall of Glacia so the young Chungru couldn't flee.
"I-I can't be found."
The boy glanced around, then dunked his head underwater. Extreme anxiety trembled in his pupils.
Raon scanned the young Chungru from head to toe. Flesh had been torn roughly from his arms, legs, and waist, and green blood was still seeping from the wounds.
Those wounds...
They weren't injuries inflicted by a human. The marks looked like they'd been left by a beast's claws or fangs.
Did this kid save Belga?
Belga had been floating unconscious on the water, and the Chungru had been chasing after him. Judging by the situation, this young one had rescued Belga from the rest of his tribe.
"Did you save this man?"
"Mmh."
The Chungru nodded with his head still underwater. Those clear eyes peeking up at him, and those small, almost human ears — they were familiar.
"Ah!"
Raon's eyes went wide. This was the small Chungru who'd been watching him from beneath the water yesterday, when the South-North Alliance had driven the tribe off.
"You've seen me before, haven't you?"
"N-no, I haven't."
"Yesterday, you were looking this way from under the river."
"N-no. This is the first time."
The young Chungru shook his head in denial.
He was definitely looking this way... wait.
There had been something else at the river besides the Light Wind Squad and Tiller. A Chungru corpse. The body Tiller had cut down had been sinking into the water — and this kid had probably been looking at that.
That's why he looked so sad.
The reason those eyes had seemed so clear and so sorrowful was because of his own kin.
"P-please let us go."
The young Chungru pointed at the others, who were shrieking with their arms and legs trapped in Water Lily ice.
"Th-they don't want to do this. None of them do."
His speech was clumsy, but the meaning came through with absolute clarity. Sincerity shone from those clean, honest eyes.
"They don't want to do this?"
Those words confirmed it. There was an outside force driving the Chungru's rampage.
"What's your name?"
"...I don't have one."
The young Chungru paused, then shook his head.
"Th-there's no time. I can't be found."
He covered his face, repeating almost the same words as before.
"If you can't stay now, can you come back later?"
"Uh..."
At that, the Chungru lifted his head blankly. He stared for a long time with those anxious blue eyes, then slowly nodded.
I can trust him.
He'd saved Belga even while getting hurt himself, and he had the same eyes as the only Chungru Raon had ever seen in his previous life. He'd take the chance.
Raon nodded and stirred the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames. The ice on the water's surface melted away, and pale steam swallowed the surroundings.
"Come back here when the moon stands at the center of the sky."
"Ah... okay."
The Chungru glanced around with wonder, then vanished into the water. Now that Raon looked, there were massive wounds on his back and neck as well. They'd healed — old injuries — but the scars were terrifyingly large.
"Kiiiiek!"
"Kyaaak!"
The moment the Water Lily ice binding their limbs melted, the other Chungru scrambled away.
Raon clenched his fist, watching the young Chungru disappear in the opposite direction from the rest of his tribe.
"Finally. I've got a lead."
The village chief of Doran Village stared at Raon, his face gone slack.
This isn't a dream, is it?
He had looked at the Gazelle River every single day since the day he was born in Doran Village. There had been rainy seasons when the water overflowed all the way into the village, earthquakes that split the current in two, even a colossal tidal wave that had reared up out of nowhere.
He'd seen so much that he'd believed nothing the Gazelle River could do would ever surprise him again. And yet the display Raon had just put on set his heart hammering against his ribs.
"I-ice..."
Raon had created a massive crown of ice simply by stepping on the water. It had surged up in a single instant, and yet it had been so hard the Chungru couldn't break free of it at all.
He's beyond even Lord Tiller.
Tiller walked on water, but he attacked with the long spear on his back. Raon had settled the entire situation with nothing but the stamp of a foot.
Like a god of ice...
Gliding over the water as if he were riding the current itself, then stomping down to forge a prison of frost — Raon looked like a deity of water and ice.
"H-he made ice like that!"
"Heavens..."
"Good lord!"
"A person can do that?"
The other villagers were just as stunned, their mouths hanging open. Everyone who'd been shouting the South-North Alliance's name only moments before now followed Raon with vacant, soul-drained eyes.
"Mm."
The chief swallowed dryly as Raon came back, carrying them all across the ice.
How is something like that even possible at his age?
Tiller was in his thirties. Raon wasn't even twenty yet. He couldn't believe this young man had displayed greater ability than Tiller, who had been personally taught by the Lord of the South-North Alliance.
"So that's House Zieghart..."
"Pretty impressive, right?"
"Hegh!"
The chief had been muttering Zieghart's name when he startled and looked to the side.
"Our Raon's something else, isn't he?"
Rimer was standing there — who knew when he'd arrived — grinning as he waved.
"I-I never imagined someone so young could show martial prowess like that. My eyes have been treated to a feast."
"That kid's special. And so is House Zieghart."
"Pardon?"
"A lot of people seem to think they can look down on us just because we paused for a moment."
Rimer regarded the chief with a gentle smile.
"Ah, I-I..."
"I understand. The South-North Alliance is closer to this village, and living on the river, you can't exactly ignore their influence. But..."
He tapped his scabbard, the smile still hanging at the corners of his mouth.
"Ah..."
The chief's jaw trembled. There was no killing intent, no pressure of aura. It was only a quiet voice — and yet a shiver ran down his spine. This wasn't a threat. It was a declaration, and it was bending him to his knees.
He's... different.
When they'd been drinking together earlier, Rimer had seemed like any other idle wanderer. Now it felt as if the chief were standing before a vast, irresistible storm.
"You'd do well to think carefully."
Rimer headed out to greet Raon as he approached the riverbank, waving a hand.
"Make the wrong choice, and there's no taking it back."
Raon returned to the riverbank at the hour he'd promised the nameless Chungru.
He was listening to the quiet spread of the current when a round head peeked up from the water right in front of him.
"Hello."
The Chungru gave a small nod.
"You actually came."
He'd been wondering what he'd do if the boy didn't show. The kid had arrived right on time.
"Well... I promised."
The Chungru lifted his head a little, almost shyly.
"Fair enough."
Raon nodded and sat himself on a rock. The Chungru climbed out of the water and settled on the ground a short distance away.
He really is small.
Still a child, then — smaller than the other Chungru. The undersized fins and webbing, though, which made him look almost human, seemed to be his alone.
"You know that people call your kind the Chungru Tribe, right?"
"Mmh."
The Chungru nodded slowly.
"As far as I know, your people lived independently, without any dealings with other races. You never attacked anyone. The moment you saw a human, you ran or hid."
Raon went on, recalling the pure, unguarded Chungru he had seen years ago.
"Why did they change?"
He asked the thing he'd wanted to know from the very beginning.
"I-it's because of me."
The Chungru clenched his knees with both hands, his lips trembling.
"Because of you?"
"I-I ruined everything."
Transparent moisture welled in his eyes, as if he might burst into tears at any second.
Wrath clicked his tongue, clearly displeased.
Just wait a moment.
Raon pushed Wrath aside and looked into the Chungru's eyes again.
"What do you mean by that? Does it have something to do with you being able to speak?"
"Hah..."
The Chungru let out a long, deep breath.
"I..."
I knew from the moment I was born that I was different from my brothers and sisters.
We looked the same, but the tribe's language — fewer than thirty cries to express every feeling — could never satisfy what I needed.
So I disobeyed my parents and secretly approached the humans.
Of course, I never had the courage to show myself. I just listened, quietly, from places their eyes couldn't reach.
When I realized that language, expression, gesture, and the rise and fall of a voice could say so many things, I trembled.
I clung to the undersides of their boats and listened to human speech day after day, and before I knew it, I could understand them. A little further on, I could even speak — awkwardly, but I could speak.
I wanted to talk to a human myself, but I was too afraid to go near them.
I was living as an outcast who belonged neither with my own kind nor with humans when he appeared.
"Can you speak the human tongue?"
Tiller. He was the first human who ever spoke to me — the one who found me practicing words beneath a boat.
I don't remember exactly what my first words were, but I remember this clearly: the excitement outweighed the fear.
"That's amazing. I've never seen a Chungru talk before."
He didn't find it strange. He was curious. He taught me the human language himself. Thanks to him, I learned not only to speak but to read books.
"Want to be friends?"
One day, Tiller brought up the word friend.
"Friends?"
I'd heard it before, but I didn't know exactly what it meant.
"Yeah. When people are close and understand each other's hearts, we call them friends."
I nodded right away.
I was happy. Being called a person, having someone who understood me — I was so happy I thought I could die content.
Tiller knew about my hunger for knowledge and showed me more of the world. Knowledge piled up, and I even learned how to read maps.
"Could I ask you for one favor?"
When I'd learned all sorts of things about rivers and seas, Tiller smiled and held out his hand.
"A favor?"
"Yeah. Friends do favors for each other, you know."
At the words a friend's favor, I nodded without a second thought.
"There are a lot of reefs around here, so it's dangerous to sail. I'd like you to make me a nautical chart."
I already knew how to read maps and had accumulated plenty of knowledge, so it wasn't a difficult task.
For Tiller, I traveled river after river from morning till night, every single day, making him charts.
Every time a chart was finished, a human village would burn and many people would die. But Tiller would just call it culture, and smile that gentle smile.
I believed him, because he was my friend. I was so stupid. I just accepted it.
"Can you tell me about your people?"
When the chart of the Gazelle River was about halfway done, Tiller asked me to tell him about the Chungru.
I was glad. It felt like my friend was taking an interest in me the same way I'd taken an interest in humans.
I told Tiller about the Chungru. How we communicated, how we lived, what we liked and what we hated.
But he wanted more.
How the Chungru used water shamanism. What our weaknesses were. Why the Gazelle River was clearer than other rivers. Question after question I felt I shouldn't answer.
I hesitated, then shook my head. I didn't know the exact reason, but I felt I mustn't tell him.
"You won't even grant your only friend's request. I'm disappointed."
Tiller left those words behind and walked away.
I was terrified. Just the thought of my only understanding disappearing made my hands shake and my breath seize up. I was so anxious I couldn't eat. I spent the nights staring into the dark.
A week later, Tiller came back. He wasn't angry. He brought gifts — human food and new books — and he apologized.
"I'm sorry. I just wanted to know a little more about my friend's people."
At those words, the anxiety and the restlessness vanished. Overwhelmed with happiness, I told him every secret of the Chungru.
I told him about the Water God Stone, the tribe's treasure that could purify water and issue commands to our people. I told him that murky water made Chungru emotions run violent. I explained the Chungru custom of treasuring our children.
Looking back now, that wasn't joy answering him. It was fear. I handed him hostages because I was terrified he might leave me.
Tiller thanked me and smiled wide. The moment I saw that smile, the unease disappeared.
Two days later he came back and said he'd prepared a gift — would I go to the Siren River to fetch it?
I was so happy I swam all the way to the Siren River in a single stretch. But no matter how long I searched, there was no gift to be found.
I waited until night, found nothing, and came back thinking Tiller must have made a mistake.
And then I saw it.
The crystal-clear Gazelle River, running with green blood. A screaming slaughter.
The corpses of my people lay scattered across the riverbed, and the ones still alive wore iron collars around their necks.
"Oh, you're back?"
Tiller waved, wearing the same smile as always. My brothers' blood was splattered across his hands and face.
"Thanks to you, they weren't hard to catch."
He stood with his foot on the chieftain's head and lifted the Water God Stone.
"Once I took the children hostage, they all got on their knees. Thanks, friend."
I screamed for the first time in my life and threw myself at him. I don't remember what came after.
When I came to, I was alone in the depths of the Gazelle River, and the bodies of my parents and siblings were piled on top of me.
A wound had been carved across my back — one I should have died from. Because of my family, they must have thought I was dead and left me behind.
I cried.
I cried and passed out and cried again, for a whole week.
I packed everything that had settled in my heart down into my chest, and I followed my people.
From a depth and a distance where Tiller wouldn't find me, I tried to keep my kin from killing humans.
But there was nothing I could really do.
Saving a handful of people was the most I managed, and I didn't even have the courage to ask anyone else for help — because Tiller would come to mind.
Every time I watched Tiller become a hero by killing the Chungru he himself was controlling, my heart died a little blacker.
Today, too, I was drowning in despair at failing to save the humans when the man in front of me appeared.
This human carried an atmosphere far more terrifying than Tiller's. And yet, strangely, his eyes were warm.
So before I knew it, for the first time in so long, I found myself speaking the human tongue.
"I see."
Raon closed his eyes.
It's worse than I thought.
Pitiful wasn't a strong enough word. This Chungru's life had been as wretched as Raon's own in his previous life — maybe more.
But then...
Why was he so angry?
He had no connection to this child at all, and yet he couldn't hold the fury down. It wasn't just the emotion he'd inherited from Wrath. The rage that had always been his own was rising with it.
He opened his eyes and watched the river flow. The young Chungru had sat a little closer, and his eyes were reflected on the water.
Because they're the same.
The Chungru, collared by Tiller and forced to attack people, looked exactly like Raon in his previous life — brainwashed, made to commit murders he never wanted.
He saw his old self in this child, throat in Derus's grip, and that was why the feeling had grown so violent.
"I-I don't even know why I told you all that."
The Chungru tilted his head, as if the whole thing puzzled him.
"I have a few questions."
"Mmh."
When Raon looked over, the Chungru nodded.
"I heard the Chungru only turned aggressive long after the Gazelle River went murky. Why the delay?"
"H-he stretched it out on purpose, so people wouldn't connect the river changing with the Chungru getting violent. During that empty stretch of time, he made our people go map the reefs and the depth of the current — so he could finish the chart of this river."
"So that's what it was."
The sailors had said the Chungru started roaming all over the river after the water went murky. That had clearly been Tiller's orders — a survey of the reefs and the depths.
"And right now Tiller is using that Water God Stone to control the Chungru and make them attack people."
"Mmh."
"Because he wants to swallow this place whole."
"That's right. H-he said he'd take the entire Gazelle River."
"Of course."
Raon let out a short, cold laugh. Judging by the fact that Tiller had tried to chart the entire Gazelle River, he hadn't been aiming at Doran Village alone. He'd meant to lay every stretch of land this river touched under the South-North Alliance's heel.
He must think House Zieghart is a joke.
Going after territory House Zieghart had already claimed, sitting right there in plain sight — Tiller clearly didn't have Zieghart in his eyes at all.
I'll have to teach him.
They'd picked the fight first. Raon decided he would make it perfectly clear what happened when you laid a hand on House Zieghart.
"Th-then..."
The Chungru stood, as if he'd said everything he came to say.
Wrath, who hadn't said a single word through the entire story, bit down on his lip.
He sniffled as if he were about to cry.
Raon let out a quiet laugh.
A Demon King, huh...
Between Wrath, who was getting gloomy over a Chungru's story, and Tiller, who'd enslaved an entire tribe by exploiting a child no different from an infant — Raon wasn't sure which one was the real demon king.
Wait.
Raon started to call the young Chungru back, then stopped.
Unlike Raon in his previous life, this child had lived without even a name. Belonging to neither side, he'd lived in solitude, and that small, hunched back looked far too pitiful.
"You said you didn't have a name."
At Raon's quiet words, the Chungru's steps halted.
"What did Tiller call you?"
"Just... you. Or friend..."
The Chungru didn't turn around. His shoulders shook.
"He never gave you a name?"
"No."
If Tiller hadn't even named him, then he'd never seen this child as anything but a tool. Disgust rolled up Raon's throat.
"What about you? Did you name yourself?"
"A name nobody calls you doesn't mean anything."
Those words struck something in Raon's chest.
He stood. He walked up beside the Chungru and looked out at the river.
"Do you know the word Garam?"
"I-I don't."
"It's an ancient word. It means 'clear river.'"
"Clear river..."
"Huh?"
The Chungru whipped around, his mouth falling open.
"Tiller overstepped and tried to invade House Zieghart's territory. I'll deal with him myself."
Raon held out his hand. In his previous life, no one had ever offered him a helping hand. This time, he would be the one to offer it first.
"You're going to help me. Garam."
"I..."
Garam didn't answer. He stared blankly, then clenched his teeth.
"I don't trust humans!"
"Then why did you tell me your story? Why did you save people?"
"That's..."
He hesitated for a long time before he slowly opened his mouth.
"I-I didn't want my people to have to kill anyone..."
"I see."
Raon smiled faintly. Those words settled it for him completely.
"I'll handle Tiller. You save your people."
"You can't. Tiller is strong. I can tell."
Garam's pupils trembled.
"The mana he has is bigger than the mana you have."
"I'm sure it is."
Tiller was a monster on the verge of reaching Mid-rank Master. Of course he was stronger than Raon, who'd only just stepped into the low ranks. That didn't mean Raon couldn't kill him.
"Don't worry."
Raon smiled and closed his hand around the hilt of his sword. A scarlet flash of lightning sparked in the dark eyes reflected on the river.