Chapter 64: Prophecy (3)
Chapter 64: Prophecy (3)
The talent for magic was not inherited, save for exceptional cases. A mage's life was something bestowed by fate.
There was exactly one exception to that rule: witches, who occupied a place halfway between scholars and mages.
Witches endlessly explored, collected, ground, boiled, sang, and danced, and in doing so could glimpse even the farthest edges of magic.
The Black Hand Tribe eagerly trained and employed witches. The magic they craved most was, unsurprisingly, prophecy.
In a secluded place away from the bustle, Chieftain Alessa and the elders stared at Rex.
"I am certain that knight is the man from the prophecy."
Rex had learned of the prophecy after leaving Bonyard. The moment he heard the tale, he believed there could be no other candidate but Eugene.
"As a warrior, your eye for such things is surely unerring, young master."
"But the future of our people hangs upon this. Please do not take offense that we must continue searching for alternatives."
The elders made a sensible point.
"I understand. Was there any additional prophecy?"
Alessa shook her head.
"The two witches have grown far too frail. You can consider them retired."
The twin witches who had foretold the clan's ruin were old even by dark elf standards. Since taking in a Mystery far too vast for them, they had been wasting away as if gravely ill.
"Young Master. The more people a prophecy affects and the clearer its content, the greater the toll it takes. Ordinarily, this prophecy would have ended in a much simpler form."
But the two witches, sensing it was a revelation concerning the fate of their people, had overexerted themselves to steal a glimpse of the future and paid the price for it.
"I can only be grateful for their dedication thus far."
Rex accepted the explanation once he understood the circumstances.
A prophecy was a thing more alluring than gold, but the more one sought it, the more it inevitably led to calamity.
"I am curious too. What kind of disaster could possibly bring our tribe to ruin?"
Part of Rex wanted to face the crisis head-on. It was youthful bravado, and the pride of a warrior who had carved out his fate through sweat and strength.
"Curiosity is not a virtue in a leader. In this world, there are secrets one must simply pass by without confronting."
"That is something Marbas-nim always used to say."
Rex was no mere warrior. Even the smallest danger was to be kept at a distance from the tribe. That was the duty of a sub-chieftain.
"Young master. We have yet to determine what this 'cradle' is. Please remember that the road ahead of us is long."
"I know. May I now speak of it to the knight? I do not mean to deceive him, but neither am I comfortable concealing it."
All eyes turned to Alessa. Only the chieftain had the authority to reveal the tribe's internal affairs to an outsider.
Alessa nodded.
"Thank you. Since the subject has come up, shouldn't we start informing the whole tribe soon?"
"We will announce it as soon as the festival ends. I want everyone to be able to enjoy the festival in peace, at least."
The prophecy had only been delivered recently, and its contents were so grave that it had not been revealed immediately.
People naturally despaired when death approached out of darkness so deep they could not see what lay ahead.
They needed to find at least one beacon of hope—whether the cradle itself or its master—before telling everyone.
"Those were the circumstances, Sir Knight."
"Thank you for telling an outsider like me."
Though the tale was bewildering, Eugene quickly turned it over in his mind.
What he would have to shoulder, the danger, his relationship with the tribe, what he stood to gain—what mattered was judging all of it on the spot.
The answer he should give came together quickly.
"Honestly, I do not know whether such a great destiny awaits me. But I can promise you this: your tribe will always be welcome with me."
"Do you believe in our prophecy?"
Rex was even more surprised by how readily Eugene accepted it. He had expected at least a strange look, even if Eugene did not dismiss it as nonsense outright.
But the knight before him treated it with utter seriousness.
"It is slightly different from believing it entirely."
"Pardon?"
"I am not certain, but I will not dismiss it either. If the situation comes and I can help, I will do everything I can. Is that not enough?"
"Not at all!"
Eugene had already had his share of strange experiences with the supernatural. He could not ignore a prophecy the tribe's renowned witches had risked their lives to deliver.
'The clan is facing destruction, survival means fleeing to this cradle, and I am supposed to be its master.'
Frankly, it was a lot to take in.
"Have you figured out what this cradle specifically is?"
Varda asked.
In truth, this was the most important part. Even with the owner and the key, without the house itself one would still be left standing in the wind and rain.
"The elders are divided on that. Some say it is unsettled land; others say a remote free city far removed from political interests. And Marbas-nim..."
Rex trailed off.
"I take it he argued that it was the legendary Wandering Castle?"
"He has been talking about that castle whenever he gets the chance for years."
Mages tended to become single-minded about whatever they pursued. It was hardly strange for one to connect a prophecy to his own obsession.
"Surprisingly, there are elders who agree with him."
"Truly?"
"It is an unusually specific prophecy, is it not? It does not hint at land or a city; it specifically says a cradle. Marbas-nim's reasoning is that there must be a reason for that."
The Black Hand Tribe had received and interpreted many prophecies over their long history. The information they had accumulated made it difficult to refute Marbas's claim.
Varda chimed in.
"The Emperor searching every corner of the land for the Wandering Castle must have influenced them as well."
"Correct. It is said that great Mysteries are inevitably intertwined with one another."
Eugene gave the elf staring at him a puzzled look.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"No. It is nothing."
In Varda's view, Eugene himself belonged to the realm of Mystery.
His dreams, and even the golden key he had obtained after defeating the Guardian—too many pieces fit together like a puzzle for it all to be coincidence.
"It seems we have spoken only of heavy matters."
After getting everything off his chest, Rex looked relieved. He opened the entrance to Eugene's quarters and gestured outside.
"Dinner will be ready soon. There will be rare foods from every corner of the continent, so let us head out."
"Let me ask just one more thing."
"Please, go ahead."
"Do the other tribesmen know of this as well? The mood seemed too bright for that."
Rex laughed softly.
"We will announce it after the festival. A weighty prophecy arrives slowly, too. A few days of rest will not make fate suddenly descend on our clan."
Since the festival came only once every few years, the food was lavish. There were delicacies rarely seen even in a count's household, not because of price but because they were so difficult to transport or preserve.
They served quail eggs piled on silver platters, peeled oranges, and seafood stew in turtle shells. Even the steaks came only from young animals that had never worked.
"This is my first time eating foal. It's much better than I expected."
"It is a delicacy even we only get to eat during the festival."
"But why don't you eat more?"
"...I kept eating alongside you, and I think I might be the only one who is full."
Rex stared at Eugene in disbelief.
"Aren't you going to look around outside?"
True to the dark elves' insular nature, the festival grounds were divided broadly into two sections.
The area where each family had set their camp was accessible only to their respective tribesmen and invited guests.
The outside was called the common area, where everyone mingled and enjoyed themselves regardless of tribe.
"Is there really a need to go out?"
"The performances, competitions, and stalls selling unusual goods are all outside. Those are the real sights of the festival."
"I am perfectly satisfied right here."
Eugene pointed to the women of the tribe dancing inside the tent.
With translucent scarves veiling their faces, the women leaped and danced beautifully. It was as though all the passion in the world had been gathered and molded into female form.
Every part of their bodies revealed during the fierce dance movements was perfectly toned.
"It is like an offering warrior women are presenting to the gods."
"Human dancers are mere child's play compared to the women of our tribe."
As befitting a warrior tribe, there were also young women brandishing daggers or scimitars in sword dances.
What Eugene had thought resembled rhythmic gymnastics was, upon closer inspection, a dance performed while wielding a whip.
"A good friend, excellent food, fine entertainment, and a comfortable bed. Everything I want is right here, so I would rather stay here with you."
"That is not fair, saying it like that."
Contrary to his grumbling words, Rex's face was filled with satisfaction.
"Besides, if I go out dressed like this, I will probably just invite trouble."
Eugene grasped the traditional garb he wore and shook it lightly.
"Wouldn't the other families be displeased to see a human walking around in garb similar to their own, rather than that of a laborer or a jester?"
"No one has the nerve to lay a hand on our guest."
Rex had never imagined that the knight, who seemed to fear nothing, would concern himself with such things.
"Those who cause trouble do so without caring for such things."
Eugene was right. No matter how careful he was to avoid trouble, some accidents were going to happen anyway.
While everyone else drank heavily, a few dark elf warriors who had not touched a single drop approached.
"Forgive the impertinence, but we would like to make a request."
"What is the matter?"
"Even if the Young Master has acknowledged that knight, we cannot accept it."
Even as Rex's eyes grew cold, the warriors did not lose their nerve.
"An outsider is attending the banquet in clothing reserved for the chieftain's family!"
"If he is such a great knight, please allow him to face one of us in a match. Only then will we be convinced."
Eugene, who had been listening, was stunned.
'Those clothes were that important?!'
No wonder the outfit was covered in gold embroidery and so much more ornate than what everyone else wore.
To think they had given him clothes that only the chieftain's family could wear. Had he known beforehand, Eugene would have politely but firmly refused.
"You wretches."
Meanwhile, Rex's expression turned so vicious that even Eugene felt awkward.
Rex held back for the moment because the warriors were making their demand out of legitimate concerns and loyalty to the clan.
Some responsibility also lay with the chieftain's family, who had withheld the prophecy out of consideration to let them enjoy the festival in peace.
"This matter has been agreed upon by the chieftain and the elders."
"If you dislike it, then order us to return to our seats."
The warriors stood firm.
If Rex gave the order, the trouble would end here. But the resentment would linger unresolved.
Eugene rose from his seat.
"I accept that challenge."
"Sir Knight!"
"As a knight, how could I refuse an opponent who challenged me out of pure fighting spirit?"
Eugene did not want to stand by while Rex struggled between him and his clan.
"And look around."
The once-noisy banquet hall had fallen quiet. Everyone, young and old, was looking this way with excitement and anticipation.
"If this peters out here, won't everyone be disappointed?"
"But to invite you and then subject you to such rudeness..."
"If I hire mercenaries in the future, this will be the first place I'll contact. After fighting beside you in Bonyard, other mercenaries just don't measure up."
Clang! Clang!
The young women of the tribe who had been dancing with swords clashed their weapons together in response, a cheer in place of applause.
"We'll be fighting alongside these warriors eventually anyway. It'd be good to get used to working together in advance. Let's call this a rehearsal."
Laughter erupted from all sides at Eugene's spirited words.
"You really are impossible."
Only then did Rex's face relax.
Even the tribal warriors who had issued the challenge and stood tense now looked at Eugene with goodwill.
The onlookers cheered, clearing away tables and chairs and sweeping the ground. A clean clearing was made in an instant.
"They're remarkably efficient at this."
"We set up impromptu arenas all the time in our tribe."
Apparently they had drawn lots beforehand, because one warrior stepped forward as their representative. He wore armor and carried a blunt sword.
"Sir Knight, please go easy on him. A broken bone or two is fine; just do not kill him."
"Worry not."
Eugene patted Rex on the shoulder as the man pleaded earnestly.
"Any weapon is fine, so long as it has no blade, correct? I'd prefer to use one I'm familiar with, if possible. It will make controlling my strength easier as well."
"Of course. As long as it is not sharp or pointed, it is fi—w-wait, surely not?"
His worst suspicion was correct. Rex went speechless at the sight of the fearsome polearm Homi was bringing over.
"I heard you killed three bugbears with that."
"Oh my!"
"And didn't it crack the skulls of a Heretic Knight and a Wendigo?"
"He killed the Wendigo with a sword. Lord Rex made a trophy out of it!"
Murmurs rippled through the onlookers.
Even the warriors who had boldly issued the challenge swallowed hard at the iron weight swinging from the end of the flail. A chill ran through their entire endocrine systems.
"Sir Knight! Edgeless or not, even a glancing blow from that thing could kill him!"
"...Rex. Just what do you take me for? Of course, I have no intention of using it as is."
Exasperated, Eugene inserted the key into the flail mechanism and detached the chain.
Thud!
The iron club struck the ground with a thunderous noise.
"Ah, so it could be used that way as well."
Rex, who had been on edge, breathed a sigh of relief when the flail became a steel quarterstaff. At least that would not kill someone even if it broke a few bones.
With Homi's help, Eugene put on his armor and advanced while spinning the lance-long iron staff with both hands. A black whirlwind formed around him.
WHOOOOSH!
WHOOSH!
The deafening rush of displaced air filled the banquet hall and drowned out the crowd's murmurs.
"That is the sound a troll's club makes."
"Lord Rex, shouldn't we stop this?"
"Getting hit by that would kill you just the same."
Rex's aides, sobered by the terrifying sound, came running over.
"Hmm."
Rex was torn between two conflicting thoughts.
The desire to watch the bastards who had dared challenge Eugene get smashed to pieces. The responsibility to stop things before someone got hurt.
'He'll manage to control his strength somehow.'
Rex decided to trust in the knight he respected.