Chapter 42 - 4-6
Of course, the three elders already had a suspicion as to who the king of the new era was.
To Meira, they had said,
"We have not yet grasped who the Great King is."
But that was a lie.
It was Geraha Wolf. That giant of a man with the terrifying face.
It was likely around the time they left the city of Karnain in the Kingdom of Siddim.
Persa began to show a gloomy expression.
The three were heading south across the continent on foot. As the days passed, Persa grew more depressed.
"You seem lacking in spirit,"
Manam eventually said, worried.
He received only replies that suggested it was nothing, but just as they were about to arrive at a great southern city of extreme prosperity called Koroi, they were in the middle of a white, dry main road. The surroundings were grasslands, and not a single soul was in sight.
"I see dreams..." Persa finally confessed with a haggard face.
"Ho. Nightmares, are they?"
Persa looked down as he followed. "They are not nightmares. Strictly speaking, they are not dreams. I am seeing scenes while I sleep."
"That is what a dream is," Nezumo interjected, walking energetically.
"It is different. Dreams are foolish things where non-existent scenery follows without coherence, aren't they? Do you think I would see such a thing? It is not that. What appears in my mind are real scenes. I do not know if it is a reality that once was, or a reality that will happen. Regardless, it is the real thing. For some reason, I see it while I sleep."
"I wish to hear the contents," Manam urged.
It was a dream where a black man appeared.
Persa spoke. "Not that his skin is black, but his entire being is pitch black. And he has a massive body, like a small hill. He walks with heavy strides, and when he reaches a place where the light hits, I can finally see his face... I see his face... his face."
Persa stopped walking.
Manam and Nezumo also stopped and looked back. Persa's cheeks were trembling. He wore an expression that was half-crying, half-laughing. Manam suspected that Persa might shed tears.
"A face so hideous it cannot be thought human,"
Persa began to speak in a pitiful, trembling voice.
"And yet, it is certainly a human face. The coarseness of the features is considerable, but it is the expression. It is evil. Evil already seeps from his entire body. A strength that accepts no pain given by others, and a strength that can inflict infinite suffering upon others. It manifests as confidence on his face. In the dream, only the black man is human; everyone else has the form of lambs. Only when bringing back a lamb that has strayed from the flock is the black man a righteous man full of love. However, when he stands within the flock, he wears a filthy smile, picks up a lamb whimsically with his large hand, and behaves like an evil god. The captured lamb bleats and cries, but the other lambs around it are terrified of the black man and can do nothing. The lambs shrink in fear, but they do not hate the black man. This is because when the black man slaughters the lamb he picked up, he wears a face so lonely it is unbearable to watch. The lambs are all fools. When they see the black man's sad face, they cannot help but sympathize with his loneliness. Do you... do you understand what I am saying? Do you? I am terrified. That large hand, the hand of destiny, is reaching out toward us."
Perhaps he had been driven too far; Persa spoke as if delirious and fell to his knees on the road.
Manam, as well as Nezumo, were surprised and rushed to their comrade's side.
"What is this, pull yourself together! It is just a story about a dream!"
"It is different. That is the real thing."
"Persa, is he the king? Is the black man the king?"
To Manam's question, Persa nodded in silence.
"Well done!" Manam, excited, slapped Persa's shoulder. "You saw it, then, the face of the king!"
"Idiot! Manam, why don't you understand! That is not a human. That is a demon. A black mass. A terrible thing. We are trying to awaken a terrible thing. Even with the power of the three of us..."
"Is he beyond our control?"
"What is it, Persa? Have you grown cowardly?"
Persa sat on the ground, crossed his arms, and looked away. "I have not grown cowardly. But I think we should stop this."
Manam and Nezumo looked at each other. Both had known Persa's stubbornness since childhood when he became like this.
Nezumo shrugged slightly. He gave a meaningful glance.
Manam understood what Nezumo wanted to say. After thinking for a moment, he nodded.
When the two of them stood and boxed Persa in from the front and back, Persa looked up with an exasperated expression.
"Hey, are you sane?"
"It cannot be helped. This is because you are being selfish in a place like this!"
"Persa, before we erase your memory, won't you tell us what the Great King's face is like?" Manam said.
"Very well." Persa closed his eyes. "He has not a single hair. There are countless filthy warts on his head, one eye is so narrow it seems it might close, and the other is so large it seems it might pop out. Yes, you will know if you see him. Manam, you specifically."
"Now, offer your head." Nezumo held up his hand. "There is a small part of your head that is slightly mistaken. I shall treat it for you."
Persa sighed.
"Manam, Nezumo, can you two swear that you have never had your own memories erased until now? The three of us have been casting magic on our comrades whenever it suited us. At one time it was you, Nezumo, who was cast upon, and another time it was you, Manam. And now it is me. If we keep doing this, the will and purpose we share as three seem as though they would become vague, but surprisingly, that has not happened. I wonder whose will dragged us out to a place like this."
Manam felt as if he had been caught off guard. Nezumo also looked blankly.
"Enough, be quiet. It will get a bit hot, but it will be over soon."
Nezumo made a gesture with his hands and cast the magic.
When everything was finished and Persa stood up,
"Have you had any dreams lately?" Manam asked.
"Dreams? Why? I don't see such foolish things."
The journey continued.
Following the cities that continued like stepping stones about to break in the south, the three tracked the activities of the nomads. Exercising their inherent patience, they also determined that the chief of the Kosa people was a man named Salakesh.
They learned that there were many extraordinarily wealthy people in the southern cities, and that they wished to invest in the Kosa people. The merchants desired that commerce be protected through the unification of the continent.
"Try transporting the beautiful textiles of Koroi to the nation of Byo. Or it would be fine to transport the profound ceramics of Byo to the Koroi Empire. Customers will flock, and the goods will be fought over."
A certain wealthy man had told Manam and the others.
If investment was impossible, they said donations would be fine.
However, the one managing the donations to the Kosa people was the Roma Church. The Roma Church, in the north where their base was, or around the west, worried about the movements of the nomads.
'Let us pray that the Tenshu protects us from the barbarians of Kosa,'
they were likely still saying.
Yet when they came to the south, it was this state of affairs. They were firmly tied to Kosa, boldly acting as the reception window for donations.
"I wonder what that Archbishop is plotting."
"Surely nothing good. It seems best to verify."
Persa spoke spiritedly. Since the memory of the dream was removed by magic, Persa had regained his former motivation.
The person in charge of collecting money from the southern cities seemed to be an individual named Sinkuk of the Wolf clan. The shadow of the church was likely pooling near that man.
The three became acquainted with a young Kosa person still in his teens.
He was a good-natured youth who offered to guide the three to the Kosa settlement.
"You old folks have a keen eye!"
Sharing two horses borrowed from the boy, the elders headed for the Kandasyata Plateau.
"What do you mean by that?"
"This and that, Kosa is just gonna go bang-bang from here on."
"Go bang-bang, does it?"
"It does. That's the feeling."
The journey ended in about ten days.
At the settlement, a larger group than expected formed a cluster of tents.
The three elders received a welcome from the tribal chief and parted with the boy.
They were closer to the destiny of the world than ever before.
The Kosa people seemed to hold a certain respect for sorcerers and prayer-men.
"Stay as long as you like."
They received this seal of approval from the tribal chief, Salakesh.
Salakesh seemed to be a noble person, but he was preoccupied with preserving the ways handed down from his ancestors, and was by no means a person capable of doing something new.
Manam judged this by looking at his face.
Zuft Wolf seemed to be propping up Salakesh, intending to eventually take his place.
Sinkuk Wolf held a view close to Zuft's.
However, Sinkuk had a grand vision.
He held a long-term strategy with the world in view.
—A big one.
Manam thought. He must be eliminated. It was impossible for Sinkuk to be the Great King who rules the world, given his age. Luv Oo's observation was from fifteen years ago, and the future king should be a chirpy child.
Even if he did not have the fate of the Great King, Sinkuk had the capability and rebellious intent to proclaim hegemony. The point that he was tied to the Roma Church was also dangerous.
There was a person who blew away the scale of such a Sinkuk.
When Manam saw the countenance of Tenge Wolf, he nearly lost his footing.
—This one is on another dimension.
Tenge would have become the Great King of Kosa even if left alone. He possessed a hegemony that leaped about. He had suppressed that and poured it into something else, keeping himself in the background so as not to stand out. It was not that his personal greed was thin. The flame of ambition danced as high as to scorch the heavens. The strength of will to suppress it was amazing.
Above all, what was visible was too different from other people. If Sinkuk was a man who looked at the other side of the horizon planarly, Tenge was a man who looked up at the sky hundreds of years ahead.
This guy,
—has been granted something from the stars.
In truth, Manam even thought, Is it this person? This person certainly had the power to bring order to the world and establish an immovable monument in history. But unfortunately, the age did not match.
It meant there was someone higher. The primary candidate.
Shortly after thinking that, Manam saw Geraha Wolf from a distance.
The moment he laid eyes on him, Manam remembered the nightmare Persa had spoken of.
—You will know if you see him.
Persa had said, but it was the opposite. He did not know. He could see nothing. Absolute darkness swirled in Geraha's hideous face. Manam could not approach. His legs froze. He felt nausea from the sheer creepiness. He hated to look any further.
That night, Manam led his two companions outside the tent.
He felt that he simply could not make a person who radiated such an evil presence the Great King.
"That one is beyond control. I have never seen such a thing. Not thought to be human, that is... that is..."
He trembled just remembering it.
"What is it, Manam? Are you scared?"
"What a pathetic fellow!"
Nezumo and Persa criticized Manam one after another.
But Geraha Wolf was too ferocious. Manam desperately appealed the gravity of the matter.
"If we let such a thing run, that is the end; it will be beyond recovery. How will you take responsibility? I think we should turn back."
Persa and Nezumo looked at each other's faces.
Manam suddenly felt dizzy, and when he realized it, he was welcoming a refreshing morning inside the tribal chief's tent.
"Hey, Manam. The Great King-sama is on horseback."
Awakened by Persa's whisper, Manam, while still covered in a beast-hide blanket, crawled out of the tent.
Nezumo was nearby. He was gazing into the distance with his palm held up.
It was a grassland shining silver with frost. The horse carrying Geraha's massive body was vigorously exhaling white breath.
"Well, what can you sense from that big lump?" he was asked by Persa.
"I told you last night, didn't I?" Manam answered, blinking his eyes. "I see nothing. I can read nothing. Ordinary people like us cannot measure that person's heart. In other words, that person is indeed the Great King."
—Was that all?
It felt as if there was some other intense something. Manam tilted his head.
No, more than that.
"Ho ho ho," Manam laughed pleasantly. "That's right, that was it. We have finally found him."
"Our..."
"Our..."
"Great King."
"Great King."
"Great King."
Ho ho ho. Ihihihi. Uhehehe. In the dawn light of daybreak, three different types of laughter blessing the past and the future rose into the clear plateau sky. For some reason, no one tried to approach the Great King they had worked so hard to find, and the three simply discussed their future plans.
For the time being, they had to thwart the Roma Church's schemes.
"Sinkuk's wife is a dog of the Roma Church. How about giving her information that serves as a clue to who the Great King is?"
"I see, if that woman moves because of that, we will understand the church's aim as well."
"Hmm. That shall be first."
They decided immediately and made contact with the woman named Meira.
They asked her to bring Tenge's wife, Hishaku, but this was like a decoy to make Meira let her guard down. They had ensured she could bear children, but they had done nothing more. The true objective was Meira herself.
That Meira was unaware of the elders' plot.
Even if she had noticed, whether she would have taken countermeasures was another matter.
The church's objective was the Great King chosen by the star of destiny. They would have him baptized, make him a believer of the Roma faith, and manipulate him at the church's will—.
This directive issued by the Bishop of Siddim, Kabel Kofie, was delivered to Meira through a man named Groza.
The Roma Church possessed a worldwide communication network. Pilgrims going south, merchants heading north, navigators crossing the great ocean, missionaries traveling the continent. They were all tentacles of the Roma Church that carried information based on faith.
Apart from that, there was a "direct line" between the Bishop of Siddim and Meira. That was Groza. A merchant with a bald head and a sturdy body, who had already made many round trips between Siddim and Kandasyata.
Meira met Groza in the shadow of an unremarkable hill.
—Find the king of the star's destiny and indoctrinate him immediately.
The Bishop of Siddim's directive was conveyed by Groza.
"Understood."
She replied only that and intended to leave, but
"Wait," she was called back. "You must have some inkling of who this Great King is, right? I want to take a name back."
"That is for later,"
she said curtly and departed.
To tell the truth, the destiny of the stars mattered not at all.
Already, Meira's objective and the church's objective were different.
Meira had resolved not to follow the church's intentions. She intended to betray them.
She had agonized for a long time over whether she could do it.
In the Kingdom of Siddim where Meira Boony was born, the Roma faith was absolute. If one were abandoned by the god of the Roma faith, one would be cast out from the society that humanity had painstakingly built. One would be treated the same as animals and forced to live in the forest.
But looking at the world, it was nothing. There were people who lived happily without even knowing the Roma faith. She understood this well by living as a Kosa person. That being a Roma believer was civilized and not being one was barbaric was the arrogance of the church.
In the first place, it was extremely doubtful whether she had truly believed in god from the bottom of her heart. After all, Meira Boony's both hands were stained with blood.
The one who taught Meira how to kill people and ordered her to kill people was the church.
It was a common story for monasteries scattered across the world to add their own color to the church's teachings and become heretical or radical. The Siddim Convent where Meira, having lost her parents, was eventually placed was also one of the radicalized monasteries.
There, Meira was taught, for example, the deception of the law. Laws and authority were not established because they were right. They were frauds used to deceive the masses. It must not be that the divine will is bound by such falsehoods.
If god commands, if the spokesperson of god commands, killing a person is not an evil at all.
One who harbors the great ambition of realizing the world of god must be revolutionary and must not fit themselves into the morality that small people observe. Any means, even those that appear demonic, are permitted to be chosen.
Meira believed this. After receiving training as a professional assassin, many men died of illness, died in accidents, or committed suicide by Meira's delicate hands. The appearance of death necessary at the time was applied as death makeup.
If asked if she had doubted something at that time, she had. Killing people always made Meira feel miserable. However, Meira had nowhere to go other than the church.
Thinking back now, she had been made to believe that.
—And then.
And then, she had sent her daughter there. That was likely the direct cause of Meira's awakening. However, that bud might have,
—As a dowry, I shall give you the world.
When she received those words from Sinkuk, had it not sprouted?
To become the consort of the king of the world.
If that happened, there would be no need to fear the Roma Church. She would surely be able to sever the curse the church had placed upon Meira's soft skin.
Without needing to ask the three elders, Meira knew who the Great King of the Kosa people was. Sinkuk, her husband. It did not matter who the stars had chosen. More than not believing in god, she could not believe in such a thing. The world is made by human hands. By her blood-stained hands. Only these hands could protect the family she had for the first time in her life.
She would kill Geraha Wolf. She did not think that gentle and dull man would become the Great King, but there were people around him who believed so. She would also kill Tenge Wolf. Because he would likely obstruct Sinkuk's path to hegemony.
However, to realize that, her husband's cooperation was indispensable.
At the same time those brothers died, her husband should raise an army. He should establish a system where no objection could be inserted, all in one swift stroke.
A few days after speaking with the elders, after being held passionately by Sinkuk, Meira spoke of her thoughts. It was the talk that the brothers Geraha and Tenge should be killed.
Not only that. She also confessed her own origins. A hideous past of entrusting her body to countless men, making them let their guard down, and taking their lives. She confessed everything. It was as if the facts were spilling out of her mouth on their own. Rather than to her husband, Meira spoke with the feeling of confessing to her daughter.
Sinkuk listened composedly.
"We should kill more. Tenge and Geraha alone are not enough."
He said so after finishing listening.
"Above all, we should strike down Salakesh and Zuft. If such atrocities are repeated many times, trust is lost. Finish everything in the first instance. Moreover, it should give the impression that it was done out of necessity. Kill Tenge and Geraha. Kill the chief and tribal chief together with them. That is the end. Thereafter, if massacres are not repeated, trust can be maintained. Very well. You and I shall do it."
Sinkuk smiled faintly.
"When shall we do it?"
"After making the Tawaru surrender. Once that is finished, the general situation will be decided."
"Sinkuk..."
She wanted him to say more. Especially, she wanted him to touch upon her true identity which she had hidden until now.
"You seem to be a woman who has suffered quite a bit." Sinkuk's hand reached out. "But you can be at ease now. For I am with you."
Meira clung to her husband and inhaled his beast-like body odor to the full of her chest.
Suddenly, she realized that Sinkuk had killed far more people than she had, and felt a sense of relief. She wanted to melt together with Sinkuk just like this. She felt that now, while she was not telling any lies, that could be fulfilled.