Chapter 61 - 5-12
"Did he die?"
Kushitante, the chief of the Tawaru, stiffened his stern face, bald and bearded.
It was the chief's tent in the Great Wasteland of the Tawaru Plains.
It seemed that Urgil Necrat, the lord of Siddim who had offered high-quality iron ore from the north and ten giant horses, had died.
The news had been brought by an Enagamo person entrusted with trade negotiations.
Mendes Gilanhart, the head of the Gilanhart clan who conducted trade with his sons.
"Regrettably..."
"Hmph."
It did not seem to be a story of Urgil Necrat dying and his son succeeding him.
There must have been a political upheaval.
The north would surely withdraw behind the Dwarf Mountains once again.
—How foolish.
Though he thought this, if they wished to turn their backs on the reality of the grasslands, so be it. It was best to leave them be.
"How do you view Kosa?"
Kushitante changed the subject.
"It will likely become the possession of Geraha Wolf."
"Out of a hundred, how many times?"
"A hundred."
—That youngster.
He recalled Geraha's ugly, black face.
There was a light of expectation in Mendes Gilanhart's eyes. Merchants likely preferred to walk a great highway ruled by one large nation rather than follow roads divided by the territories of various countries. The transit taxes alone would differ, and the lands protected by the Kosa people had been peaceful since ancient times.
—Could it be? That face. As the Great King.
It was not a matter of military power or prestige. For instance, the sparkle in the eyes of the merchant before him gave Kushitante this premonition.
Prestige, the momentum of the times, though invisible to the eye, could be felt on the skin; even without words, it was shared among a group before they knew it.
Sinkuk Wolf returned to the Great King's tent, his solitary silhouette blurring into the sunset.
As he flipped up the entrance curtain, he was greeted by six glowing eyes.
Because it was a large tent, the interior looked wide and empty.
"What happened to Binga?"
He spoke, though not to anyone in particular. Binga was Sinkuk's servant.
The six eyes each blinked. Three sorcerers were sitting in the gloom.
"He mentioned something about preparing your meal,"
said Manam, one of the sorcerers.
Having no choice, Sinkuk poured wine for himself into a glass goblet. The good thing about becoming the Great King was that he could now drink various wines. There were many kinds of wine in the world, packed into jars, barrels, and glass bottles, and transported to Sinkuk's tent. Sweet-scented wines were piled up in the depths of the floor cloths. Sinkuk had become a man of possessions. Because it made movement sluggish, the Kosa people disliked owning things. But once one discovered the wines of apples and grapes, being a wealthy man of possessions was not so bad.
"Grandfathers. Do you have any good stories?"
Sinkuk drank his wine, sitting cross-legged on the cloth where the Great King sat.
Since there was no fire in the hearth, the interior of the tent only grew darker.
"I wonder if it is appropriate to say this while it is still so soon since you lost your wife," Grandpa Manam began to speak hesitantly. "The Great King is still young."
"Indeed, that is so," Grandpa Persa agreed.
"If you would leave it to us, we could search for and present to you a woman with a fortunate countenance that invites good luck."
"A peerless beauty."
Beside the chatting Manam and Persa, only Grandpa Nezumo looked away and clicked his tongue with a "Tch." Sinkuk felt like clicking his tongue as well.
"Tenge's wife," Sinkuk said. "Should I take Hishaku?"
—If I did that.
How would Geraha react? Sinkuk considered this.
"I could simply make Hishaku's child my own. To Geraha, he is a nephew. The memento of his beloved older brother—I shall take care of him. I will raise him with care. If I declare that the son of Tenge shall succeed as the Great King of Kosa, would Hishaku and Geraha not be satisfied?"
"Well, that is—"
"Indeed, that is—"
"Tch."
No encouraging response came back.
Geraha and his supporters were coiled in the south of the plateau, expanding their influence northward. They were not waging war. They were launching a war of words called nyuzei (T/N: entering the fortress), and were advancing north by that alone. Even to the north of the plateau, followers of nyuzei came as Geraha's messengers. They shouted Geraha's claims, breathed unnecessary thoughts into people, went around persuading clans, and gathered support.
He did not want to wage war. That was likely Geraha's feeling.
Sinkuk felt the same in that regard. He wanted to avoid war between kinsmen. He was confident that his desire for this was even stronger than Geraha's.
And that feeling was the wish of each tribe—no, of all the Kosa people.
—At this moment, when the Kosa people have finally become one under the Great King.
To raise an objection was an outrage. Geraha was trying to disturb this peace.
Sinkuk was also having the old men he dispatched to Parakitai in the southern plateau make such claims. However, no results were produced. It was not that they weren't being heard, but no supporters emerged.
The people pleading for Geraha's legitimacy were somehow strange.
Both Sinkuk and Geraha used old men with trained eloquence as official messengers. However, on Geraha's side, there were activists beyond that. Old and young, men and women, everyone participated in nyuzei. They visited Sinkuk's supporters and went around persuading them to defect to Geraha.
—Just look at Lord Geraha once.
If you see him, you will know which one is stronger.
They apparently spoke such childish claims with passion.
They were fervent. They moved with a hot feeling. The nyuzei group Sinkuk created was by no means bad, yet compared to Geraha's, it seemed hollow.
It seemed humans did not move by logic alone. Childish and passionate claims were moving the people. Foolish claims would lead a nation only to ruin. Time and again, it was a failure that he had not been able to kill Geraha in the previous war.
Sinkuk was weary and exhausted.
"Grandfathers, do you not know of curses?" Sinkuk asked the three old men while drunk. "Can you not curse Geraha to death?"
"W-what are you saying?" Grandpa Manam looked as if he were shuddering in horror.
"Such a terrifying thing," Grandpa Persa also said.
Grandpa Nezumo, who had been silent until then, stood up smoothly with surprisingly sturdy legs and hips. "What is Binga doing? Let us go see how things are."
The old men left the tent, and Sinkuk was finally left alone.
Drinking wine in the darkness, Sinkuk sniffed.
Outside the tent, there was still light. On the western horizon, the afterglow had become a blue band.
"What shall we do!"
Nezumo shouted in a low voice.
"Hmm," Manam had no choice but to groan.
"It's about time," Persa also said.
"Hmm."
The three old men were plotting to escape from Sinkuk.
They wanted to escape and join Great King Geraha.
However, they hesitated to simply flee.
—They wanted to bring a gift.
They wanted to bring something that would please Great King Geraha and receive his gratitude. They wanted to be told "I am glad you came" and be treated with importance.
They would not say Sinkuk's head. However, Lady Hishaku, Lady Nisua.
—These two women and the children.
As hostages, they had been thrown into several separate tents.
They were women with deep ties to Great King Geraha. If they rescued and brought them, it would be a great achievement.
The preparations for that were already in place. For the past ten days, the old men had visited the tents where Hishaku and the others were confined. They could not enter. Young guards stood watch in shifts.
They would strike up conversations with the guards, saying things like "You must be bored," and tell foolish, pointless old tales. The Kosa people had a habit of showing respect to the elderly. Upon speaking, the guards were good-natured youths.
Of course, it was not just talking. The stories the old men told were filled with hypnotic metaphors. Words that influenced the subconscious were appropriately sequenced, and if heard repeatedly, they became powerful suggestions. The hypnotic groundwork progressed in that way and was already complete.
Now, with just a snap of the fingers, the youths would enter a hypnotic state.
The plan was to slip past the guards who were dazed in a hypnotic state and lead the hostages out of the tent.
Even so, they could not quite bring themselves to execute it.
What Manam worried about was none other than Hishaku.
She had just given birth to a baby boy about ten days ago.
Could the mother and child endure travel by horse? He did not know.
"The story Sinkuk mentioned about taking Hishaku as a wife isn't a bad plan," Persa said.
If Sinkuk persistently persuaded her by saying "I will make the son the next Great King," Hishaku might agree to marry Sinkuk. If that marriage were to happen, Great King Geraha's feelings would likely soften. Rather than blaming Hishaku for being heartless, he would wish for her happiness. At the very least, some percentage of his desire for revenge against Sinkuk would be shaved away.
If Hishaku did not agree to the marriage.
Being courted by the man who killed her husband, Hishaku would suffer in humiliation. Hishaku might even resort to a forced double suicide with her son. In any case, it would not end well.
"This is bad," Manam whispered.
"Shall we do it?" Persa asked.
"We must," Nezumo's teeth gnashed.
The decision was made hastily on the spot: execution would be tonight at midnight.
And then, midnight.
"Good evening, grandfathers. Three of you out for a piss at this hour?"
A youth with good-natured red cheeks said.
Around the hostages' tent, bonfires were lit throughout the night.
Manam and the others approached with smiles.
"As one gets older, one wakes up early. We found ourselves with too much time on our hands."
"You're more than welcome. You grandfathers are great storytellers. Whenever I finish listening, my head feels clear, as if I've slept a whole night and woken up. Is it the story of the Dragon-Serpent that supports the world?"
"Tonight, we wish to tell a story of rescuing hostages."
"Ah, that." The light vanished from the youth's eyes.
In the blink of an eye, his expression became vacant. Just as they were thinking "perfect," the youth suddenly raised a loud voice.
"Betrayal!"
As if responding, voices rose from all over. "Betrayal! Betrayal!"
Manam was so surprised that he didn't even have time to collapse in shock.
Betrayal. It is betrayal—.
Immediately, about twenty youths gathered. All of them had no light in their eyes.
"What shall we do?"
"We'll take the horses."
"Let's wake the noble hostages and explain the situation."
"In the first place, whereabouts is Lord Geraha?"
"Anyway, let's hurry."
Something was wrong. The youths had betrayed Sinkuk and begun discussing running to Geraha. Manam had not asked for that much. He had intended that as long as they let them lead the hostages out of the tent, they would manage the rest somehow.
"Now, you grandfathers come this way too. Leave Lady Hishaku and Lady Nisua to us."
The situation progressed rapidly. It was decided that Manam and the others would be carried on horses. They were placed in the rear of two-person mounts.
"It seems a mass hypnosis has occurred,"
Persa said while being pulled onto a horse by a youth.
"What of it? I simply put suggestions into every single one of those bored fellows whenever my hands were free,"
Nezumo said boastfully.
—Idiot.
Manam wanted to say. With this, the three of them could not become heroes who rescued the hostages. They were just pitiful old men helped by the youths who had risen up.
Regardless, that night, several riders ran to Geraha.
Hearing that the captured hostages had escaped, Geraha departed immediately. The hostages were apparently now being protected at the residence of the Rajif clan.
Leaving before dawn, he arrived around noon.
First, he showed his face at the tent of the clan head, Patai Rajif.
"Please be at ease, Great King."
Patai was a small man in his fifties. This was their second meeting. His long illness seemed to have reached a period of remission. Though he coughed occasionally, his complexion was good.
"Now that my clan has taken them in, I shall not hand them over to Lord Sinkuk no matter what."
"I am grateful. And so, my sister-in-law—how is she?"
"Both mother and child are well," Patai smiled. "They all arrived without injury. Now, please, go and meet them."
"I suppose."
Though he said this, Geraha kept his gaze dropped to the floor cloth and did not lift his hips.
—With what face can I meet them?
That was his thought. His two older brothers, Tenge and Astai, had died before Geraha's eyes. He had been unable to save them. Geraha had not even been able to bring back their bodies.
—But I must meet them.
He had to meet them and apologize.
He tried to rouse himself with that thought. His body simply would not follow. He was afraid.
"The unworthy Patai understands your feelings."
Geraha looked up. Patai was still smiling.
"I understand, Great King. But please be at ease. I have already arranged the matter."
"Arranged?"
"The matter of marriage."
—What is he talking about?
As he thought this, he suddenly realized. That's right, marriage.
A widow who lost her husband in war normally remarried her husband's brother. This was to prevent the widow's property from being severed from the clan, and also so that the obligation to support the widow and children was borne by everyone in the clan.
"I hear Lady Hishaku's sheep are being cared for by the Tokapu clan. I have not heard the location of the grazing lands."
"B-b-but, would such a marriage not be... problematic?"
Patai frowned. "You must not, Great King. Is there some woman you have made a good promise to elsewhere? You must not! Make her a concubine!"
Perhaps because he raised his voice, Patai coughed.
"But my sister-in-law—"
"Lord Tenge's brothers are not only the Great King. If you dawdle, she may be taken. Is that clear, Great King? Lord Tenge made a promise to the Tokapu clan to make Lady Hishaku happy. As the Great King, if you do not inherit that promise, what will you do?"
"It is as Lord Patai says. However. I am a deformity, as you can see." Geraha pointed to his crotch. "To tell the truth, there is a defect here as well."
"Hmm. I have heard rumors of that," Patai said. "What, even if it is marriage, it is a matter of form, Great King. You do not need to share a bed. Unless, of course, your feelings connect. No, more than that, if that is the case, you absolutely must take Lady Hishaku as your wife."
"Why does it become that?"
"To show internally and externally that the Kosa nation will last long, a child is absolutely necessary."
—It is not a system that ends in one generation; our Kosa nation is eternal.
To show such stability, an heir was apparently essential. Patai said:
"Make the newborn child of Lord Tenge your heir. This is surely heaven's luck."
"That is certainly... perhaps so."
"Furthermore, Lady Hishaku's beauty has not yet known decline. If you actually meet her, your Great Kingly member might just start galloping, eh?"
Geraha's genitals were simply out-of-spec large; there was no functional impairment. Rather, they were almost too energetic.
—What kind of rumors are being spread?
Though he thought this, he began to feel that for now, he should meet his sister-in-law.
Rather than courage springing up, he had come to understand the magnitude of what he had to shoulder.
Geraha sent a messenger saying "I have something to discuss," and had Hishaku and Nisua enter the same tent. He had them wait there, and Geraha would follow later. As soon as Geraha entered the tent, he intended to slam his forehead against the floor cloth and prostrate himself.
He desperately organized his words of apology and stood up, feeling as if he might vomit from tension. He would set the marriage talk aside for now.
First, he wanted to apologize. It was fine even if he wasn't forgiven.
If they hated him for being unable to save their brothers.
—He felt he would be saved.
However, what entered his sight upon entering the tent were two women who had their foreheads pressed to the floor cloth and would not lift their faces.
"Great King—"
Interrupting Hishaku, Geraha also prostrated himself on the spot.
"I!" He did not want to raise his voice. That would be like threatening them. "I! I!"
—I could not save them.
Astai and Tenge, my two older brothers.
I thought that I, if it were me, could do it. I thought that I could take the southern cities, the cities called Gorium and Sadiin. I had seen a siege once. They weren't great cities. I increased the allowance for the infantry and had them attack as a trial. In truth, it wasn't necessary. It would have been enough just to lure the Tawaru army. It would have been enough just to surround the cities. How foolish I was. How arrogant I was.
Brother Astai had never opposed me with such anger.
Inwardly, I had laughed through my nose and brushed off that opposition.
Because I could take them. Despite having no experience, I was placed on the battlefield and had won using methods that were nothing more than whims. I, and only I, looked at war as if it were someone else's business. Instead of participating, I was watching. I was truly a heartless, cold man, issuing orders without even knowing if they would work.
But I won. I had never lost once.
I wanted to surprise my brothers; I wanted Brother Astai to praise me.
That is why I attacked the southern cities with walls.
Unbecomingly, I sought the respect of others. While hating attention from others that much, in my true heart, I wanted to stand out. This me, whom you treated as less than livestock, is a hero. I am a master of war. I wanted that to be recognized. No, that's wrong; the arrogance of that time was trying to force them to recognize it.
And so I lost. The real me was an immature fool. Because I lost, Brother Astai died. Brother Tenge died too.
—The people you loved died because of this ugly fool, and they will not return.
Geraha spoke such things frantically.
He was howling while crying. "Sister-in-law, Lady Nisua, I am truly, truly sorry, I, I!"
"Geraha!"
Hearing the stern voice of his sister-in-law, Geraha fell silent.
"I intended to deliver a formal address to the Great King. I'm a little disappointed, Geraha."
"S... sor... ry..."
"I will speak to you as an older sister. Geraha, both Nisua and I, when we heard that you had claimed the title of Great King, we shed tears. Is it not a happy thing? You are trying to realize what your brothers Tenge and Astai spoke of. Even though no one believed them. You are trying to prove your brothers' words."
"I feel the same, Great King," Nisua also said.
At this point, Geraha wailed. Tears overflowed incessantly.
"I know. You tried to save our husbands. I know that you loved our husbands. My husband and my brother Astai did not die because of you. It wouldn't have been strange if you yourself had died. Why did you think we would resent you? Geraha, please, lift your face."
Geraha lifted his face.
The faces of Hishaku and Nisua, wearing smiles that radiated compassion, were right beside him.
"You suffered terrible injuries," Hishaku said, likely seeing the scars on Geraha's face.
"W-w-will you," Geraha said while sobbing, "become the wife of this ugly man? Will you be my wife?"
"I will, Geraha. You've truly become splendid." Geraha's face was suddenly embraced. "Someday, take a lovely bride for yourself. Until then, I will take care of you. You are like a baby."
While smelling the scent of breasts producing milk, Geraha let the sound of his giant heart echo inside the tent.
Mozu Wolf, the third son of Zuft Wolf, came to act as a go-between between Sinkuk and Geraha.
According to Mozu, Geraha apparently wanted to meet and speak with Sinkuk directly.
'Let us discuss and decide which of us is more suited to be the Great King.'
That is what he said. Sinkuk rejected it. If he accepted this, it would mean recognizing that Geraha also had the qualification of a Great King.
"Geraha is a traitor. Look at those horses. In exchange for ten horses, Geraha sold Kosa. To Kushitante of the Tawaru."
Mozu nodded, took Sinkuk's message, and headed to Geraha.
Sinkuk might have already not cared anymore. He was thinking of Meira. Meira was an assassin raised by the Roma Church. Only now did he finally understand her loneliness. Sinkuk was lonely.
Meira was gone. Kohal was gone. The soldiers were fleeing. He felt a feeling of fear.
The two sons he had also died. The second son during the attack on the Eastern Byo Empire, from illness. The eldest son was killed by Kushitante of the Tawaru. Sinkuk should have been entitled to sympathy.
The clan chief Zuft Wolf was dead, and Salakesh was gone too. Even the noisy Tenge was gone. Astai was gone. No one was there.
He was lonely.
Having killed them himself, there was no story more ridiculous than this, but he was lonely.
Sinkuk was the type to prefer solitude, so it was surprising even to himself to feel this way.
In the first place, why had he thought to become the Great King?
—Was it not because he could?
I can become the Great King. Was it not because he wanted to show that to the woman he fell for?
That woman—strong and beautiful, with a past and lies, with faith and sincerity—that woman had died. Now there was no meaning anymore.
"According to Geraha," Mozu said, returning several days later, "the Tawaru are our allies."
The Tawaru would yield to this side if prestige was shown. Historically, it had always been so. The war with the Tawaru had aimed for the unification of the grasslands. The goal was not achieved through war. Then, it was only a matter of making them obey through majesty.
And he had succeeded in that, Geraha said.
Sinkuk apparently wanted to set things in order through war. The one desiring war was Sinkuk.
"That is what he says."
"What does that mean?"
Sinkuk looked back at Mozu Wolf with drunken eyes.
It was too foolish to listen to without drinking.
"It likely means that you should agree to a meeting so that it does not become a war."
"Then I shall agree. However, we shall decide the timing."
Mozu made a suspicious face. "You... agree?"
"You just be the messenger!" Sinkuk said, suddenly snapping. "If Geraha wants to talk, I'll meet him!"
For a month, only Mozu Wolf was busy.
Geraha had already approached within twenty ri of Sinkuk's residence.
The distance a Kosa plateau horse could maintain speed with a rider was ten ri; if one brought spare horses and changed them along the way, it was a distance reachable in half a day. The horses left behind would return if left alone. Horses are herd animals.
On that day, Mozu Wolf came to Geraha, who was intending to go to Hishaku's tent. It was around sunset.
"Brother Mozu, how is Sinkuk's condition?" Geraha asked.
"He is beyond help."
Geraha had almost no acquaintance with brothers other than Tenge. He had not even seen his father's face properly. Mozu Wolf was a man with eyes as sharp as a hawk's, who grew a jet-black goatee and let it taper.
People said he was the spitting image of his father, Zuft Wolf.
"Lord Sinkuk is now never not drunk. He drinks from the morning and does not even come out of his tent properly. Everyone has given up on Lord Sinkuk."
Sinkuk had once accepted Geraha's offer to meet and hold a meeting face-to-face. However, he had immediately retracted it. Even from afar, Sinkuk's unstable state was conveyed to Geraha.
"Why did he become like that?"
Geraha said, crossing his arms.
"It has been since he lost Lady Meira," Mozu said. "He didn't seem to be affected that much, but the inside of his chest must have been different."
—A woman, eh.
The current Geraha could understand that feeling a little.
Lately, he visited Hishaku's tent every night. When the baby was crying, he left immediately, but when the baby was sleeping, he gazed at that sleeping face. The name was Quimel. When Geraha approached, the baby suddenly opened their eyes. They seemed to be able to see, but they were not afraid even when seeing Geraha.
They probably knew nothing yet.
—This child will become the Great King.
Geraha knew it.
—Will become the Great King.
He thought it, even though he told himself he must not. He must not be dazzled by the seat of the Great King. He must not be driven mad by it. To prevent that, Geraha would become the Great King. Geraha wanted to treat the seat of the Great King with cold contempt.
However, it was also a nearly established fact that Quimel would become the Great King.
When he thought of that, Geraha was happy.
He would get carried away.
He felt like dancing a dance.
He felt he could understand that Sinkuk lost his spirit after losing his wife. Loneliness must be painful. Painfully so. Geraha was well-versed in that pain.
"Brother Mozu. I wonder why Sinkuk is still alive."
"...Great King. If you are to do that, there is something I would like you to promise."
"Brother Mozu must never lay a hand on him. You are the mediator. If not him, is there no one? Someone."
"—If that is the case."
Sinkuk ran under a starry sky he felt he had seen somewhere before. He did not clearly understand why he had to run in such a place.
He was being chased by many men.
The men shot arrows at him. Therefore, he had no choice but to run.
The starlight shone on Sinkuk's robust and lustrous skin. Sinkuk was wearing clothes that were almost nothing more than undergarments. He had been attacked in his sleep. He wasn't even wearing shoes.
Arrows were released one by one. When one missed, the next one was released.
Sinkuk was busy dodging right and dodging left. He was being toyed with. It was as if he were being made to dance a miserable dance on this earth.
"Someone,"
Sinkuk said, gasping as he fell to his knees, exhausted.
"Someone come out, is there no one!"
"I am here, Great King."
A single rider approached.
The one riding was a small old man.
"Ge-heh-heh, Sinkuk. The stars were wrong. A pity."
"Is it Kirikiri?"
It was Kirikiri, the leader of the Mukuri, who had tattoos from his neck to his cheeks.
"We Mukuri went through the trouble of shedding blood in the east. If you are in that state, it will all be in vain."
"Listen well, Kirikiri—"
Just as he began to speak, an arrow was shot into him.
Two, three were released, pinning his body to the ground.
—What stars? It doesn't matter.
Did I not splendidly become the Great King?
Sinkuk burned the excessively shining starry sky into his eyes and closed his eyelids. That the last thing he heard was a filthy laugh, "ge-heh-heh," was somewhat disappointing.
Half a year later, after the winter, Geraha Wolf sent messengers throughout all of Kandasyata.
It was an order that he would claim the title of Great King, so those who could gather should gather.
The location was the Haraltay Basin, the homeland of the Kosa people, where a sprawling cluster of tents spread out.
Geraha mounted the giant horse Kazahana and ascended to a slightly high place.
People crowded forward, creating a congestion where there was no room to stand.
"Do not push, do not push," Geraha said repeatedly. "I shall speak in a loud voice."
Can you hear me!
When he said this, several people in the distance raised their hands as a signal.
Conversely, the people in front stepped back. It seemed he had been too loud.
Geraha first spoke of his defeat in the war with the Tawaru. He spoke of how he had fought with Sinkuk because of that, and that Sinkuk had died. He also announced the policy of forming an alliance with the Tawaru.
"For a long time, we were mercenaries of the south and the east. Go there, protect here, make them fight that, be our ally. That was us. That was our way of being. It was a fate that seemed to have continued since after Aframa, and would continue for eternity."
Geraha took a breath.
"Wrong!"
He denied what he had just said in a loud voice.
This loud voice later became a legend.
—That it was a voice that crossed the grasslands, crumbled the mountains, crossed the seas, and reached the whole world.
It was a loud voice.
A wind was blowing wildly across the grasslands. In truth, Geraha's voice seemed to go anywhere, riding the wind.
"From this moment, we shall cut and subdue the south. We shall wage war with the whole world. Why? Because we need a world without war. Every road shall connect as one, and people shall come and go. A man of the eastern country shall take a woman of the western country. A woman of the south shall become family with a man of the north. People and people shall mix together and become one. All the people, gold nuggets, things, and every single thing in this world shall circulate to make the world one. We shall rule the world with a peace that leaves no gap. Under me, Great King Geraha, this shall be carried out by the Kosa people!"
Haraltay fell silent, and it seemed even the wind stopped its movement.
Immediately after, a great cheer arose that seemed to shake the ground. The cheering grew larger in stages, spreading outward and outward from the center of Geraha, and would not stop.
A giant wave of expectation and excitement crashed against Geraha.
The Great King looked down upon the people like a crag that transcends the surging waves.