The Visitor (6)
Akasa curled the corner of his lip, as if he found the whole situation absurd.
"Your weapons are already in my possession."
At that moment, the man slowly raised his hands. When Akasa’s gaze locked onto them, the man shook his empty hands and his head slowly from side to side. The next instant, the man knelt on one knee and began pulling out small daggers he had hidden inside his boots, within his sleeves, and tucked into the lining of his tunic.
Urnil remarked with a tone of disbelief. Akasa reminded himself that the insight of a god was not as omnipotent as he had once imagined. Under Akasa’s watchful eye, the man tossed the blades one by one to his feet.
"If you search someone like that, next time you won't get advice—you'll get a knife."
A cold, stern lesson. Akasa kept his guard up as he slowly retracted his staff.
"Is that all the weapons?"
"Yes. Though it’s hardly a weapon, I do have some flint on me."
"As long as it isn't a weapon, it's fine."
Akasa said this, gathered the man's weapons, and stepped back. The man didn't open his mouth to protest the handling of his gear. He judged that this was the best way to earn the boy's trust. That sentiment was reflected in the man's tone as well; he decided to treat the child as someone who was not a child.
"By the way, what’s your name? I can't just keep calling you 'kid' or 'little one'."
"Call me Asdin."
"Asdin. I have one thing I’d like to ask."
"What is it?"
"Are you living here all alone?"
"Yes."
Akasa answered immediately, on purpose. He couldn't afford to be looked down upon just because he was a child on his own.
That was the advice Urnil had given him before.
When he spoke the pseudonym he had already used several times, Akasa thought to himself: he would never forget that he was a prince, but he knew he could never live as one again. The moment he introduced himself to someone else for the second time, Akasa felt that his former self had truly died.
A short life, lived for so little time. There was no one to look back on a life spent drifting from the bottom of a river just to survive, and there never would be.
The boy gave a light nod. It was an answer, and at the same time, a gesture affirming the death of his former self.
"What should I call you?" Asdin asked.
"Srem. You can call me that."
The boy who had once been Akasa rolled the name Srem around in his mouth a few times. It was a simple name to call.
"Understood, Srem. You can stay until the weather clears. But I’ll be holding onto your other weapons."
"Suit yourself."
Asdin bent down to pick up his things. That was when something fell to the floor. Only then did Asdin remember the deer antler he had tucked inside his poncho. He had forgotten about it due to the tension.
"Oh."
"That deer antler...!"
Asdin’s hand, which had been about to grab and toss it aside, froze. Akasa turned at the voice stained with shock that came from the corner of the cave. The man was pointing at the antler with his finger. His voice trembled with anxiety.
"You... don't tell me you went beyond the gorge? Did you touch a carcass there?"
Asdin was also startled, looking back and forth between Srem and the antler.
"The fact that you know that... Srem, were you the hunter who caught that deer?"
As Akasa recalled, the arrow he had seen in the woods seemed to have the same fletching as the one in the quiver on the floor.
"Answer my question first! Did you touch it?"
It was a terrifying interrogation.
Asdin frowned slightly and nodded readily.
"Yes. I need food to survive."
"You fool!"
Srem shouted. Asdin stared at the man with eyes full of surprise and a feeling of incomprehension.
Srem scolded him, saying, "There was a Taung near there. You touched the beast's prey! It is the law of the wild not to touch a carcass that a Taung has laid claim to, even if it rots. The beast treats even rotten meat as its food. Do you not even know that?"
"I knew."
"What?"
Akasa said it as if it were nothing.
"I said I knew. There were Taung tracks there, too."
"You touched it even knowing that...?"
Urnil, who had been quiet the whole time, tossed that out. Even though the god couldn't find things like knives, he was incredibly sensitive to people's emotional reactions.
'Worried?'
Akasa looked at the Exile before him, Srem, with new eyes.
"Asdin, are you under the impression that you have several lives to spare?"
"Is that how it looks?"
Asdin thought his retort was blunt, but he didn't think it was an insufficient reason. He continued slowly.
"If a Taung is in the area, it’s dangerous for me regardless. But I can't just pass up food right in front of me in the middle of winter. I had no other choice."
"You were too reckless. Your actions were a way of inviting an unnecessary death."
"And your way of entering the shelter of someone you don't even know isn't?"
Srem was left speechless. It was a sharp question he hadn't expected to hear from a child.
"It was force majeure. A normal human cannot survive in this blizzard."
"Same for me. Either way, if there’s danger regardless, I just judged it better to get what I could to stay alive."
Of course, Akasa had his own grounds. Excluding cooking and intangible matters, Urnil’s knowledge was beyond compare. That Urnil hadn't bothered to tell him about the common knowledge regarding Taungs—he could question the reason, but he wasn't unconvinced by it. Because it was his companion's judgment.
Srem was seeing the boy in front of him a little differently now. A kid surviving on his own. At first, that was the extent of his assessment, but the boy had his own logic and validity. Above all, the fact that he understood the Taung so calmly was also a factor.
"I will allow you to stay in the cave. But I won't give you your weapons back."
At least until I earn your trust. Asdin swallowed those words. An adult worrying about a child living alone. Asdin felt he had caught a glimpse of Hisoral in Srem. But were such people common out here, outside the lands of the monarch?
'Still, even if it's one in a million...'
What if he was a good adult? Asdin harbored a sliver of hope inside.
"I'll keep that in mind. But I hope I can get them back before the Taung comes."
"That depends on how you behave."
It was a sharp, mature remark. Srem nodded as if he liked it.
"...Therefore, there is no responsibility for the Hadonan branch head, and I will conclude that this murder of the lord was solely due to the arbitrary actions of the 2nd-grade Martial Priest, Hisoral."
At the verdict of the Central High Judge from the capital of Seplam, Hadonan let out a dry sigh. Memories of his struggles between the temple and the lord's castle came flooding back.
This murder case, which should have reached a swift conclusion, had taken an agonizingly long time. The reason was simple: its importance worked in reverse.
What a territory needs is not a dead lord, but a living one.
Therefore, what was important were not the dead lord, but the 'problems created by the lord's death.'
The essential matters for the operation of the territory that piled up day by day. Compensation for the bereaved families of the victims of the serial killer who had been ignored for a long time. Strengthening security and issuing warrants within the territory. Exerting influence over the border defense forces, and so on.
The Central High Judge dispatched to Sobaran clicked his tongue at the state of the lord, who had passed away due to frailty and left behind no spouse or heirs.
"I have never seen such an incompetent lord. Did he intend to ruin the lineage?"
The reason a lord must exist is simple: to preserve assets and sustain the family and its power. That is extremely universal common sense. And furthermore, to maintain political connections with other territories and contribute to the power of the monarch who rules over all lords.
However, despite being a lord located on the border, Badul showed an incredibly incompetent appearance.
"Not to mention territorial expansion, he failed to capture an Exile who was committing murders within the territory for over three years..."
In the end, that was the cause of the trial dragging on.
The High Judge of Aieril took issue with the lord's functionality while alive rather than the murder case itself, and brought all the various problems created by it to trial.
If there had been an heir, these would have been mere formalities. But that single, monotonous, and clear fact led the Central High Judge to become the acting lord upon the recommendation of the House of Stewards.
With winter approaching, there was much to be done.
While waiting for a new lord to arrive from Seplam to be enthroned, the Central High Judge handled most of the administrative work and carried out most of the rulings that an acting lord could make. However, there was no mention of the lord's murder in those duties.
Because that was the job of the Central High Judge, not the acting lord. And the reason for that lay in legal principles that preceded morality. A person who can represent the status of a victim can stand in court only as a plaintiff. Otherwise, the court would have long since become a chaotic mess of emotional judgments.
That was the reason why the verdict on the tragedy in Sobaran was only settled when the heavy snows of midwinter arrived.
"Thank you for your hard work."
"Ah, thank you. Lodi. Eh, achoo!"
Hadonan said, sneezing as if his nose were about to fall off. Lodi’s eyes went wide.
"Oh, are you catching a cold?"
"Yes, it seems I've caught a mild one."
"Well, you’ve been tense the whole time. You didn't sleep well yesterday, did you? You looked tired in court."
"It was something I’d been waiting months for."
Lodi nodded with a look of understanding.
"Well, in the end, it all worked out. It’s all thanks to the people who helped. Achoo! Kaaack!"
Lodi burst into laughter at Hadonan, who was frowning at the sneeze that had tried to come out but stayed in, and said,
"I hope you get over that cold soon."
There was quite a lot at stake in this trial.
The Hesno family had moved to protect the Wind Temple in order to extend their influence. People from the Wind Temple and the Hesno family defended the temple. The judges dispatched from Seplam for the preliminary investigation had guessed the Hesno family's true intentions. They scrambled to overturn the aspect of the trial.
In the process, what they set their sights on was not the collection of evidence, but the lord's support base.
The territory's residents were divided into pro-lord and anti-lord factions due to this murder case.
The problem was that the anti-lord faction was the one with the stronger influence in court. The pro-lord faction, which included hot-blooded young people, was no match for the anti-lord faction, which could be a more direct factor in the lord's murder.
Just as the judges were agonizing without any particular method, the Central High Judge who had departed from Aieril finally arrived. The judges dispatched for the preliminary investigation were only then able to face the problems caused by the absence of Sobaran's lord.
While handling the backlog of issues under the High Judge's command and beginning preparations for Sobaran to survive the winter, the judges could not help but curse Badul, who had managed the territory in a truly terrible way.
"A security structure that can't catch a serial killer hiding in the territory for three years. Do you think this makes any sense?"
The Central High Judge's cold, stern voice stirred the hearts of the terrified residents present. This hadn't been the original purpose, but the very survival of the territory was urgent. If the anxious residents left for other places, that would be a problem in itself.
In the end, the judges who had come here to push for the abolition of the Wind Temple were forced to suffer through grueling work, such as securing Sobaran's budget and inspecting the security system, instead of achieving their original goal.
It was only natural that their pent-up anger was directed at the incompetent, resigned lord of Sobaran.
As a result, the matter was handled so well that the fact that the Hesno family had sent people was rendered meaningless. The Wind Temple was preserved, and the strengthened security was deployed without blind spots, ensuring the safety of the residents.
"Yes. I must shake it off quickly. It's winter now, and there will be much to do in the future."
Hadonan, who had laughed hollowly, soon closed his mouth. His gaze was fixed on the void, but it seemed as if he were looking at something beyond it. Lodi noticed this and asked,
"Are you worried about the former branch head?"
Hadonan flinched and said,
"Oh, is it that obvious?"
"I just guessed."
"...He was the first person to visit the bereaved families of the murder victims. If the security system has been reorganized this time, he was the one who improved the individual capabilities of the guards. If I tell them about what he contributed to this territory with his heart and actions, even the young people of the pro-lord faction won't be able to say much."
"Well. Since he’s that capable, won't he manage well anywhere? If he’s the person we know."
Hadonan smiled bitterly at Lodi’s words.
"Yes, I truly hope so."
The two people who had slipped out of the lord's castle were walking down the noisy streets of Sobaran.
Now, as the day grew dark, young people who had just barely stepped into adulthood were raising their voices, mixed with intoxication, in the taverns.
There are two ways to overcome the cold. Getting drunk on youth and alcohol. Or eating something hot and warming your body in a warm place.
Hadonan discovered his regular spot, where the young people were not particularly visible, from afar and said quietly,
"Since you've helped me so much, I’d like to treat you today as a token of my gratitude."
"Oh, may I look forward to it?"
"Of course. The place over there is my regular spot, but..."
"Branch Head!"
At that moment, Hadonan and Lodi’s footsteps came to a halt at the sound of someone calling from afar. The voice was coming from the direction of the temple. Hadonan soon remembered that the voice belonged to Priest Ogi, who had come from the Hesno family to assist him.
Just as Hadonan thought, Priest Ogi was running over, his priestly robes fluttering.
"Priest Ogi? What’s the matter? Running over here so breathlessly."
As Hadonan and Lodi looked on with bewildered expressions, Priest Ogi gasped for air.
Suddenly, Hadonan thought he looked like a pigeon trying to settle its wings.
'In that case, a message?'
That thought was roughly correct. However, the content that flowed from Ogi’s mouth was a bit strange.
"Well, um. The Central High Judge has visited the temple."
"Pardon?"
Hadonan asked back with an absurd expression, then exchanged glances with Lodi. Then he asked again,
"Wait a moment, Priest Ogi. The Central High Judge? We just came out of the castle leaving him behind, didn't we? Is it really true that he visited the temple?"
"That’s what I’m saying! Would I lie about a government position like a High Judge?"
It was even more incomprehensible. With a puzzled look on his face, Hadonan headed toward the temple with Lodi.