The Far Ruins of the Distant Margraviate (4)

Haaa… I want to kill myself…

I considered rewinding time by about a second for everything except the area above my head. That alone would be enough to end things. It couldn’t be helped. In front of someone who still remembered me fondly, I had displayed a disgrace I would have struggled to show even to people I would never meet again.

Whether by suicide or anything else, I just want to vanish from this world…

“What’s this? You suddenly look completely drained, Hero.”

“Of course I dooo… How could I possibly lift my head after showing you such a pathetic sight all night long…?”

Tilke had unrolled the blanket I had curled into, but I remained sprawled across the bed exactly as I was, limp for a long while. Like a hamster wilted by summer heat.

“Come on, cheer up. I understand you’re embarrassed about showing a side of yourself you didn’t want seen, but these things happen. Still… you really have survived a lot, Hero.”

“Please stop calling me Herooo…”

“All right, Miss Kaira.”

Miss Kaira… Strangely, the moment he used that name, the shame inside me settled like sediment. I pulled my face out of the pillow and rolled over. Tilke was still standing there, gazing down at me.

“Looking at you now, it’s fascinating.”

“Hmph… What is?”

“Aside from those few white hairs mixed in, you look exactly like the busy young healing mage girl from back then. Do mages simply not age? By now Miss Kaira must be around thirty—”

Sensing a dangerous remark that would inflict a mortal wound on a girl’s heart, I cut him off at once, puffing one cheek slightly.

“It’s my constitution. Hereditary. I take after my mother.”

“I… I see.”

An awkward silence followed his embarrassed expression. Perhaps wanting to soothe my sulking or simply break the stifling quiet, Tilke spoke again.

“I heard you were missing for a long time. Are you still wandering while hiding your identity? What brings you to Latenear? Are you planning to cross the western plains and disappear forever?”

“…One question at a time, please…”

“Ah, right. Sorry.”

Hmph. A man nearly forty acting like this. Watching him awkwardly scratch the back of his head again, I could only ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠let out a hollow laugh. The faint chuckle that escaped carried my tension away with it.

“I stopped by while exploring the northern wasteland. I’ve been living in Riaska until now. Yes, the place they call the Land of Death.”

“Huh…”

Of course he wouldn’t know. Having served as a centurion, he was a man who lived by the sword; he wouldn’t have read the Riaska encyclopedia I compiled. The image of the Land of Death was inevitably a filthy one.

“But there’s a famous ruin near here, isn’t there? At the very start of the plains path. I wanted to see what a structure built before humans existed actually looked like, so I planned to stop by before moving on.”

“You mean the Plain’s Entrance. But…”

“Another ‘but’? Because of the ogres?”

“That’s right. I can’t feel easy knowing the hero I admired is heading into dangerous territory where ogre wanderers roam.”

I sat bolt upright and spoke in a low voice.

“Among the heroes you admired, there were ogres as well.”

“That may be true, but…”

Tilke trailed off, then answered clearly.

“Still, an ogre is an ogre.”

I suppose so.

To the people of the Bestebene Margraviate who had spent their lives guarding the western border, even if they avoided conflict with ogres—or even cooperated with them—ogres would always remain ogres in their eyes.

“Even so, if you’re determined to go, I won’t stop you. At worst they’ll probably just demand a protection fee or toll. They wouldn’t try to take your life, Miss Kaira. And you’re hardly an easy mage to trifle with.”

I had been an easy mage until five years ago, though.

“I understand. Thank you for saying that. And I’d appreciate it if word doesn’t reach the city soldiers or the margrave’s people that I was here.”

“You think I have no sense of honor? The fact that I saw Miss Kaira will go with me to hell.”

To hell, he said. A relay station, perhaps… I gave a small laugh and shot back.

“Hehe. If possible, take it to heaven instead.”

Tilke introduced me to a shop selling various adventurer sundries. I bought a bundle of hardtack and a regional map. We had to part ways at that shop; I had already taken half a day from a day-laborer adventurer who lived hand to mouth.

Feeling uneasy about traveling alone, I asked if I could hire him. Even though the request came from a hero who was practically his benefactor, he refused, saying that encountering ogres near the plains path still made him uncomfortable and that he might end up putting me in danger. I could hardly force him.

Did he have some personal grudge against ogres?

Instead, he suggested that if I returned safely we should have dinner together. He stayed at that inn’s restaurant every evening when he had no requests, so I should stop by. This time he would treat me to food without forcing alcohol on me.

Alone, I headed for the western gate of the great trade city, occasionally taking out Rin’s adventurer ID and wondering which one to use.

The spring plains seen from the western edge of the Empire were a completely foreign sight. Beyond the imperial capital’s walls, endless fields also stretched out, but those had been entirely tilled into wheat fields and orchards all the way to the horizon.

Here, only the gentle undulations of low hills rolled across an endless plain where this year’s grass had already risen. The light-green waves, nourished by flower-scented breezes and spring rains, had long since left their first sprouts behind and grown tall.

Perhaps because nothing blocked the wind—no mountains, no trees—it blew without cease. It lacked the fierce, cold bite of the river winds I had fought on the Drankis, however. From the farthest distance to right before my eyes, the entire field rippled and swayed like a living sea of fresh green riding the wind.

Maybe I had grown too used to life in eternal-wetland Riaska, where only endless thunder and misty rain ever passed. Each time I strayed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from the path while admiring the scenery, I would startle and pull my foot back. In Riaska, leaving the path even slightly offered no guarantee that solid ground would support you.

Every time, I would laugh hollowly inside and think, I really am something… then press my foot firmly to the earth, reminding myself of the safety of these plains.

Reaching the Plain’s Entrance still took well over a full day’s walk. No matter how far west Latenear lay within the Bestebene Margraviate, they could hardly build a city at the very edge of the Empire where ogres roamed freely.

Just as Tilke had feared, I encountered no ogres. I met only an endless stream of trade carriages fully equipped to cross the plains path, rumbling past me on the wide road.

Merchants whose curiosity was sparked by the sight of a lone girl traveling sometimes let me ride with them for hours. In exchange I told them adventure stories that were half true and half invented.

I realized I had reached my destination the following morning, after pressing on late into the night with a faint light from an illumination spell on my left hand to light my steps.

Absentmindedly I rolled up my sleeping bag, tied it with some effort, hoisted it onto my pack, and stretched my back. That was when a huge gray stone structure caught my eye.

In a plain so vast that finding even a single rock was difficult, let alone a mountain, these massive boulders—utterly out of place—were arranged in a form that, at a glance, someone had meticulously designed and positioned. And they were close enough to reach in a single sprint.

As it turned out, I had spread my sleeping bag and fallen asleep almost directly in front of the Plain’s Entrance ruins. Although the ruins lay some distance from the road, I had pushed far into the grass to avoid the absurd fate of being trampled by a passing carriage. In the moonless dark, relying on a light faint enough to illuminate only the ground at my feet, I simply hadn’t noticed.

Since the distance was short, I started walking straight into the ruins, but then thought of something and stopped, scanning every direction all the way to the horizon. I even cast the mana detection spell Master Viran had taught me.

Nothing…

Since the ogre tribes considered this place sacred, I wanted to avoid any possible friction. Fortunately there were neither ogres nor people nearby.

Swallowing my saliva in mage-like anticipation, I cautiously stepped into the dew-covered ruins where the predawn darkness had not yet fully lifted. I passed between square granite pillars arranged like an entrance, through which people—or rather, the elves who built this place—must once have walked.

The state of preservation… is astonishingly good.

The history and archaeology textbooks at the Magic Academy had contained only schematic hand drawings based on verbal descriptions rather than images captured by memory transcription magic. The reality was completely different from what those drawings had led me to imagine.

I expected something like Stonehenge on Earth. This is nothing like that.

It could not be compared to a mere cluster of dolmens. Aside from the three entrances facing east, the stone pillars forming an almost perfect circle remained intact. Bricks had probably once filled the gaps between them, but time had worn them away.

Inside the outer ring of pillars lay a vast open space that must once have served as a courtyard. This had to be where the constellation-patterned stones were. Rather than an ancient site of mysterious rites, the arrangement felt more like the garden of a museum, designed with careful aesthetic intent.

The hexagonal stones set into the floor—which the book claimed imitated constellations—looked strangely like chairs. They seemed placed so people could sit and admire the courtyard. The cut edges of what appeared to be granite were so sharp they would not have seemed out of place if someone claimed they were carved only a few years ago.

They were exactly the right height to sit on, so I decided to try.

Ugh, it’s cold…

Dew on the smooth ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠surface soaked through my robe, skirt, and even my underclothes. I could have used magic to dry them, but for now I simply sat and examined the inner ruins visible from that spot.

At the garden’s exact center, a second dense ring of pillars formed an inner wall, perfectly circular like the outer one. This must have been the main sanctuary. A stone structure that once supported a roof protruded slightly above the circular wall.

Whether there had never been a ceiling or it had simply vanished with time, nothing blocked the open sky.

The more I look, the less it feels like the mysterious ancient ruin I imagined and the more it feels like…

Simply a ridiculously oversized courtyard café from Earth… or perhaps an art exhibition hall.

I stood, brushing myself off, and walked toward the central building while ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠using a quick dehydration spell on my damp skirt.

The three entrances to the central sanctuary—where the dense pillars obscured the interior—also faced east like the outer courtyard. As if drawn by something, I blankly chose one and stepped inside.

It’s emptier than I expected.

There was almost nothing. Only weeds grown from long-accumulated windblown dirt and rainwater filled the space, with a single sharp-edged altar-like rock standing alone in the center.

“Nngh…”

I clambered with some effort onto the rock, which was slightly too large for me to mount in one go. Not that I expected to find anything in particular.

How disappointing.

Had I really spent more than a full day chewing on rock-hard hardtack and wandering the road just for this? Well, since I was already living as a wanderer, it wasn’t as if this had delayed any important schedule…

I was looking around with lifeless eyes, thoroughly let down, when a shaft of light pierced the space.

Ah…

The sun was rising.

Standing atop the central altar, I hurriedly turned east. Slightly north of the central doorway, the sun rose between the pillars. So the claim that it passed through the entrance during the solstices had not been false.

The architect must have paid careful attention to the design. Then again, for a civilization capable of building something like this thousands of years ago, that was probably trivial.

Even after watching the sunrise, I felt no particular emotion. It was the same as visiting a famous tourist spot only to discover the rumored spectacle was nothing special.

Still, as a mage I could not simply leave. The ruins were well preserved, but the grass-covered floor could not be ignored. Even if there was unlikely to be anything beneath it, I decided to check.

I took out a palm-sized spellbook and cast, for the first time, a magic I had calculated purely as practice for an assignment.

I only ran the calculations once as homework. I never thought I’d actually use it.

Of course it was my first cast. The spell caused considerable disturbance to the surroundings. I murmured the formula, and the large-scale magic I had not used in years manifested.

Every plant it touched withered, dried, was torn up by the roots, and blown away. Because it was my first time calculating and casting the spell, I had set the range too wide; even the grass outside the ruins could be seen withering in the morning sunlight.

Master Viran had scribbled in the margin that it was useful for removing annoying weeds while living in the forest. Come to think of it, I had told the adventurers’ guild branch manager I would come do some weeding—and now I really was. I let out a hollow chuckle. The laughter, with no one to hear it, scattered on the morning breeze.

I cleared all the grass, but there’s still nothing here. I should head back…

“Eh…”

As I hopped down from the altar, something translucent caught my eye. Until a moment ago it had been hidden beneath grass and soil. Still half-buried, larger than my torso, it looked like metal worked with exquisite craftsmanship.

A mirror…?

The moment I reached down to pick it up, the ground shook with a heavy thud.