Chapter 16
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: Vestiges of a Forgotten Age
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‘It’s just like that time.’
Roberta was reminded of Rashid.
The old knight, Rashid. It was just like when the monster he’d believed to be his son had attacked Ulrich. Back then, Ulrich had been unharmed too. No, he had been wounded, but the injuries vanished. As if they had never existed in the first place.
It was a miraculous healing ability. So much so that seeing it again made her wonder if she had imagined it. She narrowed her eyes, wondering if his endless stamina and seemingly limitless lifespan were connected to it.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t save him.”
Ulrich climbed out of the pit, carrying the body. Only the upper torso remained of the corpse, and it was soaked in digestive fluids. He had pulled it from the monster's stomach, deep within the blinding darkness of the earth.
“…Not at all. On the contrary, we should be thanking you.”
Duke Bailen seemed shaken, but he quickly controlled his emotions and spoke. He shifted his gaze and said.
“Thanks to your intervention, Duke Dithmarschen, Belido survived.”
At Bailen's glance, Belido checked himself over and nodded to show he was all right. The wound from the pincer-like jaw had healed considerably thanks to Roberta's first aid. With a little more time, it would likely leave nothing but a scar.
“More importantly… are you alright, my lord?”
“I’m fine. It just… hurts a little.”
Ulrich let out a short sigh.
“Don’t worry about me. This is nothing.”
Roberta, who was treating Belido's injury, looked up. For a moment, she detected a profound weariness in his voice. But perhaps she had imagined it. He quickly regained his usual composure.
“You are the problem. You'll be facing far more dangerous creatures from now on, yet you're far too careless.”
Roberta glanced at the pit and nodded.
Looking back, they had been too complacent. The two men had fallen into the pit because they had carelessly wandered away from the group.
After spending several days in the snowy mountains, they had grown accustomed to the harshness, and the fact that no one had died yet had probably bred a sense of complacency—a feeling that things were manageable despite the difficulty.
And this was despite knowing, according to Ulrich's bestiary, that the monsters they had encountered in the mountains were only a fraction of what was out there, with countless more dangerous ones lurking about.
“Don’t rely on me. I can’t protect all of you.”
“We will keep that in mind. And… could you give us a moment?”
When Ulrich nodded, Bailen approached Roberta.
“I knew him for a long time. If it’s possible, Priest, I would ask you to lead a prayer for him.”
Roberta agreed without a word. It was her duty. She brought her hands together, formed a sign, and performed a brief rite for his spirit.
After the rite was finished, Ulrich spoke.
“I’m sorry to say this, but we can’t stay here long. This is the Ice Peninsula, and monsters will swarm when night falls. We need to move to the next location before then.”
“Understood.”
They buried the body and left.
Just as Ulrich had warned, the true crisis was only just beginning.
A day later, another man died. He had left the cave alone to relieve himself while Ulrich and Roberta were out hunting, and never returned. They found parts of his body nearby in the morning.
Three days after that, they were attacked by a monstrous bird. It was taller than an adult man yet moved with such speed that even she had a close call. If Ulrich hadn't tripped her, its beak would have pierced her throat.
And the next day, another man was injured. He was lucky to be alive, but he lost a leg and could no longer walk. Bailen carried him on his back.
#
“Duke Dithmarschen, is that the place up ahead?”
Duke Bailen asked.
Fourteen days after leaving Dithmarschen, a mountain began to appear on the horizon. It was one of the nameless peaks of the Kaldorekai Mountains, which cut across the Ice Peninsula, its summit high enough to pierce the clouds.
How could they only be seeing such a tall mountain now? According to Ulrich, it had been visible ever since they descended from the other mountains, but the fog had made it indistinguishable from the sky.
“Yes, Narvakayani made its home somewhere up there.”
Roberta flinched at the word "somewhere."
“You don’t mean we have to go looking for it, do you?”
“Don’t worry. That won’t be necessary.”
“…That’s a relief.”
She sighed in relief, pressing a hand to her chest. The thought of climbing another mountain was dreadful enough; the idea of having to wander around searching for a nest made her head spin.
“Why would it live in a place like that?”
“A place like that is exactly what makes it suitable for them.”
Suitable for living? Because it’s a place like that?
“The environment of the Ice Peninsula is only terrible from a human perspective. To a dragon, it’s nothing. In fact, it’s ideal. By making a home in such a place, they can naturally ward off invasions from apex predators, can’t they?”
Indeed, that makes sense, Roberta muttered to herself.
The dragons she had read about in texts were more powerful than any other race and were said to be attuned to mana. The trials Roberta's party had endured would be trivial from a dragon's point of view.
“It feels strange, thinking of humans as apex predators.”
“It’s true if you think of humanity as a collective rather than as individuals.”
Roberta gazed at the mountain for a moment before following Ulrich.
As the sun began its descent from the center of the sky, he led the party to their next shelter. It was a tower. Judging by the collapsed walls that formed snow-covered hills around it, it must have once been a watchtower.
The first man-made structure they had seen since entering the Ice Peninsula looked like a square, single-story house, its upper section having broken off.
Was it built by the dwarves or elves who lived here long ago? Or was it built by Emperor Taiwyn's army during his failed expedition?
While she was examining the tower from the outside, the rest of the party started a campfire, and Ulrich took out the meat from a creature he had hunted days ago and began to cook it.
He called it "game," but it was a monster. He never brought back the whole creature, only a few cuts of its flesh. When asked why, he would only offer a silent smile.
She had no intention of being picky about food in a place like this, but she couldn't help feeling uneasy. She watched Ulrich slice the chunk of meat and hang it over the fire before asking.
“Why are there monsters like this here?”
“It’s because of the evil gods, isn’t it?”
It was Duke Bailen, not Ulrich, who answered.
“Kuncan, Takna, Galpa—they rebelled against the creation of the major gods and sowed their seeds wantonly, filling the world with monsters. Is that not the reason?”
“No, that’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Then what?”
“Before I was ordained, I studied at the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. Because of that, I know more about monsters and the evil gods than the average priest. But… I've never seen or heard of the monsters here anywhere before.”
It was common for each demonic realm to have one or two unique monsters, but the Ice Peninsula was excessive. Most of the monsters they had encountered so far were new species, unknown to both her and the Pantheon. That was why she had been so skeptical when she first saw Ulrich's bestiary.
“That’s to be expected.”
Ulrich nodded.
“The mana here is denser than elsewhere, and its flow is stronger and more erratic. It’s only natural that the evolution of life would be accelerated.”
Mana is the element the gods infused into the world to create life. Therefore, where mana is dense and its currents are strong, the effect on life is bound to be greater.
“Then why has its flow become so strong and its concentration so high?”
“Because of a major event that shattered the balance.”
He lifted a cup of steeped pine pollen tea away from the fire.
“This land, which we now call the Ice Peninsula, was originally divided into an island and a mainland. Near the end of the age of dwarves, when they used the island as a stronghold to resist, the elves dragged the island over and merged it with the mainland.”
“…They dragged an island?”
she asked, her tone incredulous.
A quick glance at the others showed they had the same reaction.
Ulrich glanced at them all, said, "Yes," and drew a map on the ground with his index finger. It was simple, but it depicted Osnover and the Ice Peninsula to its north.
Then he drew a line through the middle of the Ice Peninsula.
“Look. The line I just drew is the Kaldorekai, the main body of the mountains we spent days climbing. Everything west of this mountain range was the island.”
Roberta touched her lips.
The peninsula was about the same size as the entire Osnover Kingdom, and the area west of the mountains accounted for half of it. If Ulrich's claim was true?
It meant that the elves of an ancient age had, by their own power, dragged a massive island—half the size of a kingdom—and smashed it into the mainland.
“Imagine how twisted nature would become after such a feat. For every action, there is a reaction. Do you think the flow of mana could possibly remain the same?”
After saying that, he added that there were many other places besides the Ice Peninsula where the flow of mana had become unbalanced for similar reasons.
“The race that claims to love nature caused a pollution unlike any other, all in the name of protecting it. They realized their mistake too late, but regret always comes too late. I warned them against it.”
Roberta didn't quite catch his last words, which he seemed to mutter to himself.
Dragging an island to smash it into the mainland? It was utterly absurd. She had heard all sorts of claims from the lord, but as always, this one was hard to believe.
“But as you know, my lord—”
“Mm. It’s a story with no written or oral records left behind.”
He cut her off as if he had read her mind.
“…Yes. If the elves truly performed such a great feat, I would expect it to be mentioned somewhere. In the scriptures, for example.”
“The scriptures weren't compiled to simply list historical facts. Their purpose is to inspire faith. And would they record the great deeds of a race that humans once served as masters, rather than the deeds of humans themselves?”
Roberta felt several pairs of eyes on her. Duke Bailen and the others were watching her reaction cautiously. He had, after all, just spoken ill of the scriptures in front of a priest, so they were likely concerned. But Roberta only frowned slightly and said nothing.
“That’s not all. The fate of this tower is another reason.”
Ulrich stood up and walked over to a wall. He poured the pine pollen tea over it, melting the frost that caked its surface. Carved letters were revealed. He pointed to them and asked Roberta.
“Can you read this?”
The inscription was crude. It was clearly not the work of a stonemason. Roberta narrowed her eyes to examine it and saw that it was an ancient script.
After the gods departed, the languages and scripts they had spread changed gradually with the ages. The characters carved into the wall before her were one such result of that process.
“No… I can’t read it.”
Roberta vaguely remembered seeing similar letters before, but she didn't know how to read them. She could only guess that it was a script used before the age of humans—that is, in the age of dwarves and elves.
Ulrich traced the characters with his finger and slowly read out their meaning.
“We… die… here. That’s what it means.”
They were ominous words.
“What does that mean?”
“Exactly what it says. It’s like a last will.”
“What? A last will?”
A last will? Roberta blinked.
The Ice Peninsula was once a battlefield between two races, the dwarves and the elves, and in the end, the elves were victorious and began their own age. Could this inscription have been carved by a dwarf on the verge of defeat?
“It was left by a civilization from before our recorded history.”
Ulrich replied to her theory.
“The masters of this tower were neither dwarves nor elves. It was built by a civilization that belonged to neither, and this is what they left behind at the very end.”
“Neither dwarves, nor elves…”
Roberta looked at the inscription again.
‘We die here.’
A strange feeling washed over her as she thought of it as a final testament, left by someone nearly ten thousand years ago. Who were they, why were they here, and how did they perish?
“Think about it. Does history just spring into existence at a certain moment? It is only when something survives after countless failures and collapses that it becomes history.”
He placed his hand on the inscription.
“This place is a relic of a civilization that collapsed and did not survive.”