Omen 8
Omen 8
After Might was reborn, the Incarnation exhausted its power and withered.
Even after a flower wilts, a faint pleasant fragrance remains, but this was a lump of flesh imitating a flower.
A tumor that bloomed from the convergence of hell's malice and the living castle's primal urge to reproduce. Though it was a living thing, it was by no means a normal being.
Thus, the foul stench it emitted as it rotted was strange. It went beyond merely stimulating the sense of smell; there was something that stirred the primordial desires of living things.
"A strange smell."
Varda covered her nose with a handkerchief.
"We should burn it quickly or something."
"I'd like you to reconsider that. It might be a structure where a new flower blooms by using the decayed flower as nourishment."
"It is a function far too useful to use only once."
"It is a mystery that even recovers a body so cruelly consumed by a curse. The ways of the world are unknowable, so it would be best to preserve it as much as possible."
Perhaps because of the smell the Incarnation emitted, Varda's face was flushed. Her long ears were also reddening.
"It doesn't seem to be attracting bugs, so it should be fine. Come, let's go out quickly. I'm worried it might have a bad effect on your precious body."
Eugene wrapped his arm around Varda's back and led her out. The feeling of her slender, deeply yielding body was as intoxicating as always.
"You seem to be treating me too much like a child..."
Though she said that, Varda's eyes were curved like crescent moons.
She always appeared as a virtuous elf lady, but in Eugene's eyes, she had a longing for being spoiled. Although she would vehemently deny it.
"I will seal off the path leading here from now on."
Just as large and small cysts appear on a human body, this castle had such spots here and there.
Pools where a power difficult to explain by human cognition was concentrated. They were basically harmless, but depending on usage they could be useful, and yet hidden malice like needles lurked for those who would misuse them.
'I thought everything in the Wandering Castle had become fully mine. Strictly speaking, it felt more like being a majority shareholder.'
The strongest decision-making power was in Eugene's hands. But if he just signed off on the immediate benefits and moved on without care, he could suffer greatly.
This time as well, without Goddess Vanas's help, Eugene would have had to behead the monster Might had become with his own hands.
When they were sufficiently far from the room, Varda lowered the handkerchief that had been covering her nose.
"I know well enough that yours is a cautious nature. But as for that room, I wish for it to be preserved even if it poses a danger."
Was it because they had known each other for a long time and were always together?
What he had wanted was a warhorse possessing extraordinary valor and strength.
Though he was praised as a great knight, in some ways he was the person furthest from the creature called a knight.
"That's surprising. You've always been wary of unnatural powers."
"Because that room might become the only hope in the future."
"What do you mean?"
"...An elf's lifespan is long. But a human's lifespan is short."
Varda, who always looked her conversation partner in the eye, this time averted her gaze from Eugene's.
"Letting each peaceful day flow by was how I lived until now. But these days, I often think of the distant future."
"How distant a future?"
"A future so far away that I can picture it clearly, instead."
Varda sighed.
"I always stop imagining midway. Around the time when the smile that had been rising on my lips suddenly disappears."
Eugene wasn't a fool, nor was he insensitive. He could fully understand what Varda was implying with her roundabout words.
"Even so, it's still a long way off."
"Yes. It's something more than half a century away."
Varda stopped walking.
"But it seems time passes so quickly while I'm with you. The longer we are together, the faster it goes. It wasn't like that when I was in the Emerald Forest."
Was it because she was reminiscing about the past?
Her golden eyes, which had always evoked gold, seemed as fleeting as autumn leaves catching the sunlight.
"When autumn comes, leaves fall, winter arrives and the world turns white, then spring comes and green sprouts rise. To me, those were days with little difference."
For an elf with a long lifespan, the seasons were a change as trivial as the sun rising in the morning and setting in the evening.
"But from some point, the changing of seasons began to bother me. And it will probably become more so in the future."
Varda's slender hand swept along the corridor wall.
When they first entered the castle, Eugene was simply delighted at having come to possess a magic castle and the power he would enjoy as its lord.
'Two bodies and one soul.'
But as time passed, he realized that his true joy was elsewhere.
"I am simply grateful to the fate that made you the master of this castle."
Here, there were many ways to resist fate. That rotting Room of Incarnation was only one of them.
'Am I an unfilial daughter?'
When it came to Grace, even though the parting was sad, she eventually submitted to the laws of nature, as befitting a forest mage.
But she had no confidence she could do the same for the parting that would come next. She felt no revulsion whatsoever at the idea of going against nature.
* * *
As the army had conducted consecutive operations in uncharted territory where proper supply was impossible, fatigue had built up.
After ordering them to rest further, Eugene took only his elite escort and headed toward Tripol City.
He needed to bring back the subordinates waiting there and to collect as much as possible from the city, so it was necessary for him to go in person.
"The ride is very comfortable, but you stand out far too much."
Mounted on Might, Eugene looked around in a perplexed manner. All of his nearby subordinates were looking up at him.
It had already been a large warhorse, but after being reborn it had grown even larger. Now, when walking alongside other cavalrymen, it stood out conspicuously.
"Isn't that a good thing?"
Haind looked puzzled, as if wondering why he was worrying about such a thing.
For a knight, showing off was not arrogance but a duty. In particular, knights without noble connections, for whom it was important to catch the eyes of lords, often went to battle wearing exaggerated decorations.
Gord knights attached horns to their helmets or armor shoulders; in Samur, they hunted peacocks and tied their splendid feathers to their helmets. The knights of Barsia, who called themselves the nobles among nobles, charged across the battlefield with magnificent cloaks fluttering.
"You look like you'd be very good at collecting arrows if you appear on the battlefield."
"If you tower up like that all alone, it will be hard for others to protect you."
"Aren't you short of air up there?"
The tribal warriors, who valued the virtue of stealth, giggled and tossed out a joke each.
But their voices also carried an undeniable envy.
Contrary to their cold-blooded image, dark elves were domestic and had a terribly strong familial love. However, they did not share their horses even with their wives or children.
The longing for an excellent warhorse was as important as life itself. No oppressive chieftain could demand that a fine steed won as spoils be handed over. That was considered a tyranny worse than seizing a subordinate's wife.
"Not uncomfortable?"
When Eugene stroked the neck of the armor-clad Might, the beast shook its head.
In addition to its larger size, it had teeth that jutted out fiercely like a crocodile and a mouth that split deeper. When entering the city, covering that up to some extent would prevent unnecessary commotion.
* * *
Eugene entered Tripol City, quickly received his payment, gathered his subordinates, and prepared to depart.
When the stuffed Lamia Queen that had been displayed in the plaza was dismantled, disappointed sounds arose from all around.
"Oh no!"
The street vendors, who had paid dearly for their spots and started doing business, cried out especially.
"Do you have no intention of staying longer?"
The executor showed Eugene several letters that had arrived and asked.
"I have filtered out the chaff and selected only the worthwhile ones. This is the result."
"Word travels fast, it seems."
"Desert orcs, rakshas, small-folk, lamias. Every one of them an enemy bound by grudges from the beginning to the end of Samur's history. Especially when a champion appeared, even great lords and kings died like flies on the battlefield."
The impact of that one battle had spread throughout the region.
"Castle Lord."
"A barony, I imagine?"
"Unless you were to form a marriage alliance, yes, that would be the case."
Great nobles, including kings, commonly held multiple titles concurrently. Granting a title meant bestowing one of those holdings.
And except in special cases, titles were attached to lands as a set.
No matter how great the noble, granting a viscountcy or higher was nearly unprecedented. It amounted to a chunk of the family's power being torn away and given to an outsider.
But in this world where paths to rising in status were nearly all blocked, even a barony was a tremendous thing.
"Are you not inclined to accept?"
"I suppose it showed on my face."
The executor gave a wry smile at Eugene, who was touching his own face.
"A mercenary captain with a thousand men under him would tremble with joy at such news, yet you look far too composed."
"As a lord, I already possess most everything of consequence. I find little to covet."
Strong and loyal subordinates, a majestic fortress that would not pale beside a royal castle, sufficient wealth, a comfortable village he could return to at any time.
He already possessed all such things in the finest quality.
"As a noble and a knight, you must have some ambitions."
"In any case, I can neither see it all at a glance nor hold it all in my arms. Possessing too much only breeds weariness."
Every noble desired wider lands and higher titles by nature. The vast majority of those in power waged bloody battles to claim even one more small plot of land.
The executor was experienced, but Eugene's way of thinking struck him as remarkably fresh.
"Castle Lord, there is one final matter."
"Every organization possesses an inherent nature toward division. Conquest and dominion are akin to building a sandcastle on a shore battered by waves. If you hold lands here and there, you will only be kept busy restoring them as the waves tear them down. If that is the case..."
Eugene looked at the executor, who was listening with rapt attention, and chuckled softly.
"To tend only what lies within my reach and cultivate it into a perfect paradise — that, too, is not a bad life."
"If all monarchs thought as you do, the world would have become a somewhat better place to live. The likes of the Roman Emperor, especially."
"Dynasties lasting even five hundred years are rare, let alone a thousand. I have no wish to sacrifice everything to pile up glories that will be forgotten before the waves of time. I would rather walk a path where I spend a little more time with those beside me now — laughing and talking together."
The executor was a man who dealt with everyone with a dry, official detachment. Yet now, toward the knight before his eyes alone, he felt a genuine personal fondness.
After quickly reading through the major letters, Eugene asked the executor to send replies respectfully declining them all.
"I shall entrust the task to the finest scribe, so as not to bring any discredit upon your honor, Castle Lord."
"Thank you."
"Should the opportunity arise, please visit our city again."
The executor handed over a single document stamped with the seals of the city's nobles and offered a handshake.
The jewel of eastern Samur. It was a certificate guaranteeing several commercial privileges, including tax exemption, in trade passing through the city of Tripol.
A right that had been granted to only a very few people over its long history. As the executor who held the authority to decide whether to confer it or not, he had been forced to deliberate until the very last moment.
Yet the knight before him had not only achieved worthy deeds, he also showed no sign of being greedy enough to abuse the privilege.
Had he not, after all, cast aside even the letters laden with every temptation from great lords after no more than a single glance? And then immediately set about preparing for the next stage of his journey, like a wandering knight.
The executor handed over the certificate with a mind at ease.
* * *
"So you refused all the great lords' offers and came back?"
"I got the promised payment plus trade privileges I hadn't even expected, didn't I?"
"No, that is one thing, but land is land."
On the return journey to the Wandering Castle, Marbas burst into a hearty laugh. He had known Eugene was an unusual knight, but this was beyond imagination.
"There is nothing free in this world. Whether land or title, an offer means I will owe something comparable in return."
"Is that not a given?"
Everyone looked at Eugene as if seeing him anew.
"That's why if I truly want something, I'd rather take it than be given it. If it's valuable enough to satisfy me, the price the other side asks will be just as high."
"How does your thinking even flow in that direction?"
Marbas was dumbfounded by Eugene's words, which suddenly veered toward invasion and plunder.
"Hahaha! As expected of the Castle Lord. You understand things!"
Rex, a born plunderer himself, clapped and cheered in contrast.
"More than anything, Samur does not seem to be a land particularly worth taking."
"Ugh, don't even speak of it. It's nothing but sand, water is scarce, and venomous insects abound."
"And why are the bugs so huge...? I've nearly fallen over in shock more times than I can count going to the latrine at night. There was a moth the size of my face."
At Eugene's words, the warriors of other tribes chimed in as well.
For dark elves who had lived racing across plains much farther north, this land of desert and all manner of grotesque insects was utterly unsuited to them.
"Above all, the future is unsettling. You both must have felt it during our stay here."
Both Marbas and Varda nodded.
"The spiritual tide is surging in ever deeper. For champions of the evil god to rise in such quick succession is an extremely unusual occurrence."
"This land was originally a savage territory ruled by monsters and sain. That means it is a region more susceptible to the influence of the Otherworld."
They had driven off the immediate danger, but Eugene could not shake the feeling that this was not the end.
"Do you see this?"
Eugene tapped Might's forehead with his hand. It was a protrusion rising in the shape of a crown.
"The Lamia Queen had the same thing. So did the Gnoll Chieftain."
"It is too peculiar to be coincidence."
It was a matter Marbas had also taken an interest in. Apart from the superficial features, it was because a mystic aura could be felt from that spot.
"Whether it is a divine blessing or something else, it appears to be a change that occurs when taking in powerful energy that does not belong to the mortal realm."
"The head, and the forehead most of all, is the most spiritually sensitive area, after all."
"Might was able to be reborn as a World Charger not simply because of the Wandering Castle and the Goddess Vanas. The timing must also have played a large part."
Eugene looked up at the sky. Whether it was a sunny day or a clear night, he could not shake the sensation that something was crawling across it.
It felt far closer than it ever had in Roman or Gord.
An ominous sense that perhaps this monster calamity was merely the first wave threatening Samur.
Every morning when he woke in his bed in the city of Tripol, he could not rid himself of that thought.
In short, it meant the time had come to leave this place soon.
"You have worked hard, Castle Lord."
Greeted by the welcoming cheers of the guards, Eugene returned to the Wandering Castle and entered the core room.
Receiving through his entire body the pulsation that welcomed its master's visit, he pictured the next destination in his mind. A place far distant from this land.