Chapter 102 - 9-3
While gazing across the fertile fields of late summer, Cloden Danforth spurred his horse forward. The cavalry guards assigned to him by the Royal Army rode alongside. The territory of Saranti, which had been acting as an independent power in the east, had promised to cooperate with the Royal Army.
This auspicious news should have already reached the Siddim Royal Army via messenger. The reason Cloden still hurried to report in person was that he carried a matter of importance tucked away in his clothes—something that could not be entrusted to a messenger.
"Make way!"
Cloden galloped fiercely through the fields of Brazm and visited General Glen Hilboro's tent. Due to his lean frame and a cloak that spread out like wings, the General looked like a bird of prey perched in a chair.
"To Delroy? Are you sending troops?"
—Why?
The General blinked.
Cloden sat in a chair as prompted by the General.
The General's attendant served Cloden a fish dish. It was a battlefield meal. It was not high-quality, but since he was hungry, Cloden ate with fervor.
"There are many soldiers in Saranti who deserted from the Royal Army," he said while eating.
"Are you going to return those wretches to their parents?"
"It seems the Western Army's numbers are thin. I thought I would replenish them."
"The Western Army is no good. They are soldiers of the Siddim Regular Army, you know? Do you think it will go that easily? The Royal Army will take them in."
"As for the crime of desertion—"
"I know. I will significantly reduce their sentences, so have them return to the Royal Army and fulfill their duties."
"Understood. There is one more core point to this matter. Namely, that Saranti is capable of transporting soldiers to the west."
"The sea routes."
"Precisely. However, the city of Aver has been taken by the enemy."
"Already?" The General's eyes widened.
"Refugees from Aver have been arriving in Saranti one after another by ship."
"However, the enemy has no naval capabilities. Is that correct?"
"Because there are no warships in the city of Aver. I heard they were seized by former General Sedias Thora. However, they may have already begun building ships."
The Northern Inland Sea has rough currents and is no simple sea. However, as for maneuvering ships, it is merely a matter of squeezing cooperation out of the fishermen.
"A surprise attack from the sea—" The General spoke, then shook his head. "It would likely end in failure."
"I wanted to hear your opinion, General. What if we lined up many of the Delroy Navy's ships in places visible to the enemy to intimidate them from the sea?"
"That seems more likely to bear fruit."
"Furthermore, we would strike simultaneously from three sides: the Western Army, the Brazm Royal Army, and the naval forces. The army of Malfa City would surely respond as well."
"Stop talking like it's a dream. You just said yourself a moment ago that the Western Army's numbers are thin. Besides, we cannot ignore the enemy before us. We have no room to move."
Cloden finished the fish dish.
An attendant who looked to be in his forties poured wine for Cloden.
"I won't say your whim is impossible," General Hilboro said. "However, at a minimum, there are three hurdles to its realization. First, the Western Army must be established as a functioning army. Second, the Eastern Army must be able to blockade the Twin Forts. Third, we, the Eastern Royal Army, must defeat the enemy forces in Brazm. Each is difficult, but the Twin Forts and the enemy forces in Brazm are linked. If one is settled, the other becomes manageable. However, this is the same for the enemy. The enemy also believes that the Eastern Royal Army and the Eastern Army are linked."
—True enough.
Cloden was impressed.
"And to defeat the enemy forces in Brazm—that is, the enemy before our eyes—we need a force to distract the Malfa siege army. We need the enemy's main force in Malfa to be held back. I don't intend to define that force as the Western Army immediately, though."
"I see."
General Hilboro seemed more like a scholar than a soldier. Cloden felt greatly enlightened.
—In summary, the Western Army is necessary after all.
Unless the main force, where Geraha Wolf likely is, is dealt with by the Western Army, those east of Brazm cannot make a move.
In that case, Cloden thought it might be fine to transport personnel to the west, but as a General, Hilboro likely could not place faith in something as illusory as the Western Army.
If only the Western Army existed, the Eastern Army, which used Ganlord as its base, could fight the Twin Forts once more.
—Though, still.
They've tried twice and lost twice. It's about time the east became wiser.
"However, by taming Saranti, connecting with Delroy by sea is a great advantage," General Hilboro said. "Well done, Danforth. Leave the rest to us."
"Yes."
"Take this."
A single piece of paper was handed to him by the General. Looking at it, a woman's face was drawn.
"Not bad."
"It is a portrait of the woman who turned Maslow into a sea of fire and seized the prisoners," the General told him about the incident. "We will load these on ships and distribute them to the west as well. Make her a wanted person throughout all of Siddim."
"Understood. Thank you for the delicious meal."
Cloden bowed and took his leave from the General.
In the tent where Dwight Ramirez, the Dint Special Appointee, resided, Cloden gave his greetings upon returning.
"Haider Skyner of Ganlord has called for you."
Dwight Ramirez was a noble-looking man with a grey mustache that curled upward. Even on the battlefield, his grooming was impeccable. Since Cloden often dressed sloppily, he was frequently cautioned.
—What a noisy bastard.
That's what he thought at first. However, he recently realized that Lord Ramirez's nagging was a kind of expression of affection. When you are together on a battlefield for a long time, various parts of a person become visible.
"Is it alright for me to go?"
"It can't be helped," Lord Ramirez said with a sour face.
Dwight had left his family in Dint. That Dint was currently cut off from traffic, with the roads blocked by the enemy. The mental strain Lord Ramirez carried was not small.
"Please leave the matter of Dint to me," Cloden said. "The Danforth family will surely protect it to the end."
"I wonder. The Dint mountain soldiers you are using can enter Dint via the mountain paths of the Dwarf Mountains, correct?"
"That is correct."
"If anything happens, send word, alright?"
"Of course. I hope you'll trust me."
Cloden answered earnestly and left the tent. He headed toward his two older brothers who were on the same battlefield, explained the situation, and took a short nap.
He woke up in the evening. Cloden ate some bread and then departed.
He had heard there was a great fire in Maslow, but the area was narrower than he imagined. However, it seemed to have been a fierce blaze, as there were places where only ash and cinder remained in certain sections.
The main castle of Maslow is called Ganlord Castle. The first person to greet Cloden was a red-nosed youth.
"Young master!"
It was Haltbeim, one of the Dint mountain soldiers.
"You idiot!" Cloden hugged the young mountain soldier.
He was happy to see a familiar face.
"What the hell are you doing in a place like this? Where's Hemrik?"
"I came because Hemrik-san ordered me to," Haltbeim said in a pathetic voice. "Young master, you're late. I've been waiting this whole time. I want to go back to the mountains already."
Haltbeim was a rustic mountain man who had almost never descended from the mountains.
It seemed he had a scary experience in the city.
"A pretty sister told me she'd show me her breasts, so I followed her—"
He said a scary brother appeared and took thirty Gilan from him.
"You idiot, you're stronger than a Kosa person once you pick up a bow, aren't you? Did you tell him that properly? Dint will be looked down upon!"
Wanting to lecture him, Cloden searched for a place to sit.
"Ah, that's right. Young master, I have a letter from Hemrik-san."
Haltbeim pulled several letters from his clothes.
Cloden opened Krisina's letter on the spot and began reading while standing. Something astonishing was written.
"That scary brother was about to strip me of everything, not just my money, but I wanted to protect the letters, so I ran away immediately."
"Well done, Haltbeim," Cloden said with a solemn expression. "I'll show you a breast or two. Not mine, though."
"Really? Then, I'll wait until I see that before I go back to the mountains."
"Yeah!"
Speaking buoyantly, Cloden climbed the grand staircase of the entrance hall.
Haider was pleased by Cloden's arrival and prepared a formal dinner. It was in a private room of Ganlord Castle. Zeal Androsh, Zeal's partner Lucifont, and the Skyner family knight Vimherik were also present. After they all toasted, Cloden first gave a brief explanation of the situation in Saranti.
"Saranti will come under the Royal Army, then?" Haider said as if to confirm.
"That's right," Cloden answered. "Raslaf promised so, and the Countess of Saranti stated it clearly. Saranti is looking neither at Brazm nor the Twin Forts, but strictly at Malfa City. It seems they want to settle things with the enemy's main force. Their desire to land Saranti's troops in the west is also to defeat the enemy's main force."
"Will Delroy approve?"
"Raslaf said anything can be settled with gold."
"Raslaf said that?" Zeal raised a suspicious voice.
Cloden nodded. "He's changed a bit. That guy has become quite respectable."
"Has any information come in regarding Yugis?"
Looking at Haider, Cloden shook his head. "As expected, that bastard seems to be struggling. I suggested to Raslaf that he coordinate with the Western Army, but he didn't seem very keen."
"Hmph, I've never met this man called Raslaf Dravar," said the handsome Lucifont Nera. "I feel we would get along. I can't stand Westerners to begin with."
"Now, don't be like that," Cloden said, fed up with being called a traitor even in Saranti. "I don't trust the west either, but still. Just before coming here, I spoke with General Hilboro."
—The Western Army is the key to the war situation.
That was the conversation Cloden had.
"That's where Udoh's plan comes in," Cloden slapped his knee. "That bastard apparently deserted from the enemy camp. I read in a letter that he's interested in the enemy's rear."
"That's the thing," Haider looked straight at Cloden. "We also received a letter from Udoh. Please look at this."
What Haider showed him was a map.
It depicted the details of the road from the plains nations opened in the dark forest to Siddim.
The Kosa army also seemed to be building a new fort on the forest side of the Twin Forts. Something to that effect was written on the map.
"Udoh drew this? Did that bastard investigate?"
Haider nodded. "He is serious."
Crossing the Dwarf Mountains, infiltrating the plains nations, and launching a night attack on the enemy's base.
That was Udoh's plan. He apparently intended to use Carossa's troops.
"First, Udoh will paralyze the enemy's rear, their reinforcements and supplies. Then, we, the Eastern Army, will apply pressure from the front of the Twin Forts. The core is to finish by launching a surprise attack on the enemy camp within the Twin Forts from the Dwarf Mountains," Haider said quietly. "Isn't it a good plan?"
Lucifont spoke up. "However, the analysis of General Hilboro that Cloden explained is logical. I hate the west, but can we not move until at least the Western Army makes its presence known?"
"That is true. Timing is important. We need to gauge that timing."
Haider seemed keen. An uncontrollable excitement was flickering.
Cloden crossed his arms.
"What about Belgau? They can go around the back of the mountains from Tosha, right?"
"They will participate," answered the dark-skinned Vimherik. "It's relatively easy to pass cavalry from Tosha. I've already received a positive response from my father. However, Tosha is a city that needs defense. We cannot send a large number of troops. Please think of them as a mobile reserve."
—This is troublesome.
Cloden thought so, but if everyone was doing it, it couldn't be helped.
He couldn't just play innocent regarding Dint.
"Understood. I'll persuade Dint."
Haider stood up with a solemn expression. "Let us toast."
"No, wait a moment. What happened to the crucial Udoh? Did that bastard not come?"
"Didn't you hear from Haltbeim? Udoh is already not in this country."
Alf Cedar, left all alone on the Kandasyata Plateau, traveled north along the river. The grey wolf Alf had named Black-Ear followed him sometimes, but there were times when it vanished from sight.
As he headed toward a distant hill that seemed unreachable no matter how much he walked, Alf encountered a Kosa family grazing sheep.
Alf jumped up and ran toward the family's tent. However, he did not forget to confirm that Black-Ear was not following.
It would be terrible if the grey wolf Alf brought along attacked the livestock.
The family treated Alf to mutton. It was boiled with salt, and it was strangely tender and delicious. He could eat even the marrow of the bones. Alf devoured it.
"This 'Siddim' place," the head of the family was a short, black-haired man. "Is it a foreign country? Is it far from here?"
"Siddim is in the north, sir."
"I don't really get what 'the north' is. Well, I'll take you to the tribal chief tomorrow."
"Thank you very much," Alf's Kosa language was improving. "Sir, I'm not a doctor, but I'd like to see that knee of yours."
"Knee? This knee hurts when it gets cold."
Alf massaged the man's leg while chanting a spell, breaking into a sweat.
"Yeah. It feels much better." The man said with a smile.
"Right?" Alf wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. "I may not look it, but I'm a mage."
The next morning, he was given a ride on the man's horse and went to the grazing lands where the clan leader was.
He parted ways with the kind man there. The man didn't seem to notice, but his knee was now stretching straight. Watching his retreating figure, Alf nodded with satisfaction.
The leader was an old man with a stubborn-looking jaw. "Siddim?" he frowned.
By the leader's order, he was taken to the chief of the clan that served as the main lineage. Two men in their prime took him, and during that time, a waist-rope was tied around Alf. It was said to be so he wouldn't fall off the horse.
The main lineage clan is called Rajif. Even after arriving at the Rajif clan's grazing lands, Alf's waist-rope was not removed. On the contrary, ropes were tied around his wrists as well.
—It seems my Kosa language is still lacking.
Apparently, some kind of misunderstanding had occurred.
Alf desperately explained the situation. He had business with the old men who were clinging to the Kosa Great King.
"I came from Siddim for that purpose."
Whenever he explained it that way, everyone invariably reacted to the part about 'Siddim' and made strange faces. Perhaps it was related to the fact that the Kingdom of Siddim and the Kosa Empire were at war.
"I have nothing to do with the war."
He tried saying that too, but no one listened to him properly.
—This is a problem.
He was taken from the Rajif clan's stopping place to another location. This time the travel distance was long. In terms of direction, it was west, and it seemed it was no longer the Kandasyata Plateau.
A pale mountain range was visible nearby. The Kosa person who transported Alf told him, "Those are the Dwarf Mountains." It was a place where many Kosa people had gathered. They were running about with bows, arrows, and spears; it was an imposing sight. Circular tents were lined up and spread across the grasslands. It's like a city, Alf thought.
"I'm going to let you meet one of the generals. Be sure not to be rude."
Alf's waist-rope was finally untied.
Inside the tent he was brought to, there was a young Kosa person.
Alf imitated the prostration that Kosa people often did and bowed his head deeply.
"I am called Alf Cedar."
"I am Molchi Rajif. Is it true that you are a Siddim person?"
"That is correct."
—What did you come for.
—How did you get here.
He had already been asked the same questions several times. Alf gave the same answers.
"If you're a Siddim person, you know a city called Tosha, right?"
"Tosha?" This was the first time this question had been asked. "I don't know it. Where in Siddim is it?"
"It's at the eastern edge."
"Then I don't know it. I was born in Karnain."
"Have you never been there?"
"East of Malfa is basically like the wilderness, you know? In Siddim, Karnain is the best, no matter what you say—it's the royal capital. Next is Argis. Delacoon is also a good place. Going west from there, it's nothing but arrogant bumpkins, and it's not very interesting. To add to that, the western cities and the southern Koroi aren't much either."
As he was lecturing with a good mood, Molchi Rajif gestured with his palm.
The interrogation was over.
Within the same day, Alf was put inside a cage made of assembled timber and fastened with metal fittings. The cage was loaded onto a wagon and transported along with other luggage. It was terrible treatment. There were a dozen or so other wagons, and they seemed to be heading toward the western plains nations.
Although he was given water and food, he had to relieve himself through the gaps in the bars, toward the outside of the wagon. Thanks to this, Alf became skilled at using his abdominal muscles to spray excrement far away.
When it comes to this, one reaches a certain state of mind.
—Well, whatever.
Things will turn out as they will. Alf took a magnanimous stance and enjoyed the swaying of the wagon.
During the transport, Alf saw a wolf following the wagons on the distant horizon. It ran while hiding in the grass, occasionally lifting its head to gaze toward Alf.
Realizing it was Black-Ear, he felt an indescribable emotion.
—That guy must have been lonely, so he followed me.
Alf's guard was a man named Kandal. Alf asked Kandal to drive Black-Ear away.
"That guy saved my life. I owe him."
If it continued to wander around human habitats, Black-Ear would surely have friction with humans.
If that happened, they were Kosa people. With their specialty bows and arrows, Black-Ear would be shot dead. This was a place where Black-Ear should not be. Humans and wolves have an incompatible relationship.
"It's fine," Kandal said after glancing at the grey wolf.
"A lone wolf like that is nothing. It's the packs that attack sheep, after all. Besides, this is the plains. The Tawaru tribe of the plains doesn't kill wolves that much. There was a woman long ago. That woman mated with a wolf and gave birth to the ancestor of the Tawaru tribe. Until they submitted to Great King Aframa, the Tawaru people worshipped not the Great Bird God, but the king of those who run the earth, the Lion God Barion."
That's why Black-Ear was safe.
It was as Kandal said.
The Kosa people accompanying the procession of wagons heading west noticed the wolf and, finding it amusing, began throwing food. Black-Ear wagged its tail and snapped up the food, no longer even glancing at Alf. The Kosa people even gave Black-Ear the name 'King of the Salt Road'.
—What the hell.
Alf didn't find it funny. However, it was also true that he was relieved to know Black-Ear wouldn't be killed.
On the other hand, the fact that even a wolf could feel loneliness led Alf into deep contemplation. Alf recalled a question he had previously posed to Arsius, the acolyte of Bishop Kabel Kofie of Siddim.
It seems this world is a sphere, appearing like a full moon.
Countless humans are clinging to that sphere. An uncountable number of people. How is it that these crowds of people can pass each other on a narrow road where shoulders might touch, without any trouble?
Each person is different, and no two humans are the same. How is it that, despite this, the world works out? To Alf, that was truly mysterious.
Alf found a behavior in Black-Ear that might be the answer.
—They're lonely.
They gather because they are lonely.
Because they are lonely, they can be considerate of others.
All people are lonely. That's why the world works out. Because they are lonely, they don't want to fight. They want to become companions in harmony. Human loneliness is not the same as that which animals possess as an instinct. This is because human loneliness has an emotionality that animals do not have. Since everyone is familiar with the emotion of solitude and shares it, a sophisticated society is possible.
—But if that's the case, why do they do things like war?
The conflict between the Kosa Empire and the Kingdom of Siddim is one such example.
However, Alf indulged in self-satisfaction, thinking that this too could be explained by his devised 'Loneliness Theory'.
The Kosa people are lonely in these vast grasslands, and because they want friends, they are cutting down the whole world. The Siddim people value only their old friends and shut themselves in their shells because they want to reject new faces.
Alf felt he could understand the loneliness of the Kosa people. This desolate scenery is everything. This cold air is already lonely. He could resent being thrown into a cage, but Alf possessed a sensitivity that allowed him to sympathize with the people of Kandasyata. It is a land where one might doubt if anyone other than oneself exists. It is a land where simply encountering another person is moving.
However, at his core, Alf could not betray Siddim. Toward his homeland, he felt a proud feeling, thinking they did well to draw their swords. This, in its own way, brought a tear-inducing emotion.
Siddim has, at least one, a correctness that Kosa does not have.
—Siddim is my hometown.
This was the correctness of Siddim for Alf.
Siddim was Alf's birthplace, and loving it should not be violated by anyone.
Sinking into emotion, Alf suddenly muttered.
"Teacher."
It was nothing special; Alf finally understood that he was in the very middle of an enemy country.
"Laje, Ness. Larisa-nechan. I want to go back to Siddim, I want to go back to Siddim."
"What are you talking about," Kandal said. "You're being sent to Siddim."
"Eh?"
"We're short on interpreters. We'll have you be our interpreter."
"Interpreter? If I interpret, I can go back to Siddim?"
"Well, if you serve properly."
"Really? What. Then, I'll serve properly. I'll translate anything. I'm good at languages."
"Is that really okay? You'll be cooperating with the Kosa army, you know?"
"Cooperating, but it's just interpreting, right?"
"Even so, it's cooperation. It doesn't change the fact that you're betraying your motherland."
—That's a bit.
That's inconvenient, Alf thought.
"Kandal, I have my pride too. Can't I decline that offer after all?"
"You'll be killed if you decline."
"What stingy bastards. If that's true, I'll be disappointed in the Kosa people."
"No, we're being sufficiently considerate. You're the one at fault for coming to Kandasyata at a time like this."
Alf was left speechless. It would have been good if he could say there were unavoidable circumstances, but that was his own problem.
—Betrayal, or death.
Alf agonized for a few seconds. He quickly realized it was foolish to even think about it.
The hometown is important, but if there is no life, one cannot yearn for it.
If it comes down to it, I'll use magic and escape. Alf stretched inside the cage and slowly lay down.
When he woke up, an eerie gaze was peering into the cage.
"Wah!"
Alf shrank his body.
It was a beautiful night, where the pale moon and starry sky faintly dyed the grasslands of the surface purple.
A mysterious man with the lower half of his face covered by a cloth, silhouetted as a pitch-black human figure against the moonlight, was looming over the cage. The mysterious man placed his index finger on his lips.
Alf fell silent in fear.
The black man raised a long arm. It was likely a signal.
The wagon carrying Alf's cage began to move. Alf instinctively looked at the driver's seat. An ugly old man was manipulating the reins. The horses seemed dissatisfied, but they obeyed the old man's steering.
Alf widened his eyes and looked around.
Then he noticed that there was another short mysterious man riding the wagon. He was carrying a long bow.
At night, the wagons were parked in a circle. The Kosa people spent the night by pitching tents inside that circle. Horses with their tethers removed also gathered inside the circle. It was said to be a preparation to fight in a circular formation using the wagons as defensive walls when receiving a night attack.
They were this cautious. Naturally, there were sentries keeping watch without sleeping.
Or so it should be, but right next to the light of a tent, that sentry was lying on his back. A blanket was draped over him.
Alf could tell he must be a thief.
To lay a hand on a Kosa wagon was extremely bold.
The wagon proceeded quietly and slowly.
By the thieves moving Alf's wagon, a gap the size of one wagon was created in the circular formation.
From that gap, the horses went out of the circle one by one. The horses began eating grass in whatever places they pleased. With this, the Kosa people would not be able to pursue immediately. Moreover, the tents were quiet, and there was no sign that they had noticed this theft.
Within the swaying field of vision, the tents receded.
Then, the carriage stopped. A horse neighed low.
The mysterious men on the cargo bed and Alf held their breath and looked at the driver's seat. The lanky, tall man spoke to the short one.
"Hemrik, it's a wolf," he said in the Siddim language.
Although the figure was not visible from the cage where Alf was, a growl could be heard.
It seemed it would bark at any moment. If it started barking like a noisy dog, even a corpse would jump up. The Kosa tents were still right there.
The short man stood on the cargo bed and drew his bow.
"Wait! Just a moment!" Alf panicked. "Wait a second!"
The taller mysterious man again placed an index finger on his lips.
Alf lowered his voice. "It's different. I think it's a wolf I know. Black-Ear, Black-Ear!"
The wolf moved as if leaping and revealed itself in a spot visible to Alf.
It was further away than he thought.
"Black-Ear, this is where we part ways," Alf said. "You, go back to your companions. The journey is over. It's time to go back."
The grey wolf extended its tongue, its eyes gleaming, breathing.
Without warning, Black-Ear turned and ran. The horses that had been eating grass scattered and fled. Black-Ear didn't even glance at the horses and galloped through the night grasslands.
Once the old man on the driver's seat had distanced himself to a certain extent from the Kosa tents, he whipped the horses and made them run.
It was rough steering, such that Alf hit his head against the ceiling of the cage numerous times.
Eventually, a forest of coniferous trees came into view. Two horses were harnessed.
The night had already broken.
At the edge of the forest, the thieves stopped.
"Fuhehe, what shall we do with this little missy?"
The short thief holding the bow and arrow stripped off the cloth that had been hiding his face. It was a double-chinned, red-sunburned face.
The tall mysterious man also stripped off the cloth from his face. He had a long face.
"What do you mean 'what'?" The man with the eggplant-like contour stroked his chin. "You, were you sent by someone? Which road did you take? Tosha?"
"Are you asking me?"
Disliking being called a little missy, Alf asked back.
"I don't know what kind of bumpkin you are, but we don't have time to deal with bandits like you. Do you know?" Alf threatened. "Right now, Siddim is in the greatest crisis since its founding! You probably don't know, but there's a war going on. I came this far north by passing through the west, crossing the Pale Mountains, and via Koroi. And that's on foot, without using a horse. I can't ride horses, you see."
Alf acted arrogant until the end.
"That must have been quite a long journey, then."
The long-faced man said while rummaging through the luggage on the cargo bed. "A Siddim person, eh?"
"Maybe. And you?"
"Udoh Renne. I came from Dint, crossing that mountain."
"I'm Alf Cedar. Being a thief these days is tough, huh."
"We aren't exactly thieves. We came for reconnaissance to see what the plains nations were like, and we're on our way back. We just happened to see a baggage train, so we borrowed one wagon."
"Hey, Udoh," the old man who had been steering the wagon was about to get down from the driver's seat. "Don't talk unnecessarily. This one is kind of strange."
It was a slender, tall old man. No, not an old man—the long legs were strangely erotic. The buttocks were plump and full. He stepped down from the driver's seat to the ground and turned this way. When the old man put his hands on his hips, the cloak parted, revealing the hilt of a sword and a chest that seemed about to burst through the tunic. It was a pity that, due to the curse of the Three Sages, only the face looked like an old man's.
"Hello. I'm called Alf."
Alf spoke, pretending to be innocent.
"I'm Rusary. What are you doing here?" the woman said haughtily.
Alf told them about the old men who had placed a curse on Ness de Syllabus.
"The Syllabus family of Karnain? How could that be?"
"That's just how it is, Rusary."
The short bowman called Hemrik skillfully shaved away the lock of the cage with a small knife. Alf thanked the three of them for finally being able to step on the ground.
The three men and women began to sort through the cargo bed for notable food and such. During that time, Alf kept talking.
When the conversation reached Molchi Rajif, who had interrogated Alf, all three stopped. Udoh Renne said in a leisurely tone.
"Tosha? Did he say that?"
"Stop it," Rusary said. "He's a man who says he traveled with His Eminence the Bishop of Siddim, was saved by a wolf, and was shown an iron ship by a mage."
"Though, that wolf seemed clever," Hemrik laughed, fuhehe.
"Do you know the place where you were interrogated?"
"Even if you say 'place'..." Alf answered Udoh. "But I know the direction and the time it took. I have confidence in my memory."
"You shouldn't trust him," Rusary began to get angry with the face of an old man. "It's all a made-up story."
Rusary bent her body and was packing things that looked like fire-mouths (T/N: volcanic stones) lined up on the ground into a bag. Alf approached and placed his hand on the back of Rusary's head.
Rusary slapped Alf's hand away and looked up in surprise.
Then, in silence, Rusary took Alf's hand. This time, she timidly placed Alf's hand on her own head.
"I'm surprised," Rusary said. "I can see images. Tents—there are nearly two hundred of these. The cavalry is probably on a scale of a thousand riders. Is this the general? A general as young as a boy. Alf, you speak the Kosa language fluently—this is... the Dwarf Mountains. This is unmistakable. Kosa soldiers are gathering."
Udoh and Hemrik looked at each other.
Alf was surprised as well. Only when Alf placed his hand, Rusary's face returned to the face of a black-haired woman. It was an enchantingly beautiful face.
The power of the old men's curse was weakening. It might be because they lost Persa.
—Come to think of it.
While captivated by Rusary's waving black hair, Alf remembered his promise to Arsius. Alf had declared that during this journey, he would surely lose his virginity.
Suddenly noticing, Rusary was looking up at Alf with a beautiful yet scary face.
Alf hurriedly erased the lewd thoughts that had floated into his head.
Around Malfa City as well, there was a mage placing a palm on an old man's head.
Manam was sucking the remaining magical power from Nezumo through his palm.
"Do not think ill of it, Nezumo. I will surely return it to you."
The senile Nezumo likely did not understand what was being done to him.
"I've left your care to Binga. You can wait in peace. I am finally going to settle things. If anything happens to me, I've arranged for all my power to return to you."
Nezumo nodded, au-au. Whether he understood or not.
Manam wiped Nezumo's drool and nasal mucus with his sleeve.
Leaving the tent in light clothing, he continued walking without looking back.
He headed for the Great Sea of Trees, the forest where One-Eyed Zarko lived.