The throne room had collapsed. The tremor of the Grand Sage, a sound that should never have been spoken in verse, coupled with the dense, reality-warping energy of the Mana-Stone—it had absorbed the power, power that was supposed to return to its pristine state. But the Right Hand, who had neither fled nor fallen, had simply vanished from the chamber that held the wave-throne, the seat of the King, now a relic of the past. The ceiling quaked. The great hall, smashed into utter ruin, rained down debris and crumbling pillars. This architectural space was once a showcase for the Foundational Stones, a place where people of different nations, distant lands, or religious pilgrims could touch the captivating craft of the high-heeled nobles.
Giant statues of the royal lineage, of the depraved King, lay scattered across the upper floor above the throne room, completely burying his own body, leaving no one to seek his remains. Townspeople, villagers, the gate-keepers, and the remaining knights—all fled the winding alleyways, not sparing a thought for the King. They were terrified, gripped by a fear of death they had never faced, seeing the castle, the very majesty of the kingdom, crumble. They scattered like snow-bunnies fleeing a soft, white blanket of snow that threatens to bury them.
The visitors, now the destroyers, were neither startled nor afraid. They simply walked out, dragging the heavily blood-soaked body of the regicide, and the maiden of the trident, the mermaid who sang her last hope, pulling her from a place where no one had ever truly loved her.
On a Northern Sea, Somewhere on the Ocean
"The sea wind is ever cold. Makes me truly envy these Gale-Birds. But the one thing… the water is so frigid it's turning my skin pale."
The large ship looked strange. The few people aboard were all linked to the utter destruction—body and spirit-mana—of the mad King. They left behind the chaos born of the King's own hubris, who believed himself above these warriors, even knowing in his deepest parts that he could never truly harm them. The two warriors felt neither fear nor alarm at the event. It was as if, in their entire lives, they had destroyed everything.
Helm spoke. He sat at the bow of the great ship, calm and unmoved by the biting wind, merely swinging his feet far above the dark blue expanse below. He looked up at the cloudless, fogless sky. The sound of a waterfall in the distance was so melodious, as if a mermaid were swimming beneath their wooden hull.
The warrior woman, however, was gone from the ship, having flown off, leaving behind only red feathers.
"Yearning for that cool breeze, are you, old tortoise? I've seen that grin on your face since we sailed past the exit of the bay."
"Heh. Naturally. It's been ages since I sailed out of the kingdom. I've been cooped up in the Stone-Analysis chamber. Sometimes, necessity demanded I be at the church. But truthfully, being at the church is better than hunching over, burning inscribed stone paper, transmuting mana, and copying and burning the same language on paper again and again… It's too monotonous for me."
"Hmph. You prefer praying, is that it, My Lord of Mercy, who absolves the sins of the child in the brazier."
The archer remained still over the prow, his gaze fixed on the sky, as if a small, light wing—like that of a butterfly—had always flown close to him. Beneath his deer-skull helmet, no emotion showed save for a deep boredom.
"And you, do you not care for blessings? But never mind. I can tell from the sky that you despise the light. Because the first time I saw you, through my blind-man's eye, I saw many spirits flying around you."
"Your mouth truly deserves to be struck with my bow, old tortoise."
Phorzons chuckled softly, quietly. His robe billowed, smoothing out wrinkles as if it had been ironed, despite the chilling air as they neared the sound of the waterfall and the shadow of a ship—large, or rather, colossal—much grander than the fishing vessel they were currently navigating through uncertain currents, beneath which fisherman's catches and stateless travelers hid.
"The first time I came here on a pilgrimage, I didn't come this way. I only saw it from afar. Seeing it up close, it makes me feel a deep-seated fear."
Phorzons mused, speaking with a slight excitement, as they approached the waterfall. For pilgrims from other lands, the waterfall between the dividing lines of the Church and the gathering place for pilgrims was a route for traveling merchants and warriors seeking groups of wandering travelers—searching for what was missing from their souls. This is why Crusmer, a waypoint, became a welcoming city for such people or creatures in disguise.
"That Sage who was vexed with you back in the throne room must be traveling to the borderlands separated from the Church. What hellish land is that, all full of people uttering pleas and worshiping statues like fools? And this land is moving faster and faster now. Don't these people know anything?"
"I thought the same, so I found an excuse to go on a pilgrimage. By some twist of fate, I ended up in Crusmer, and then met him, Miguelroz. But because of that, I also saw the dream that I now believe must be him… It's a pity my assistant died."
"So what's your next move? Find another post at a profane church, become an exiled Sage, or what? Because Vionn seems to want to reclaim the Name of Truth. I don't want to say it directly, but sigh, that silly girl. She can't recite the liturgy like before, so she wants you to reconnect her spirit through his bloodline. Believe me, her mind is gone."
Helm felt too exasperated to continue enjoying the view. But at one point, as he jumped down, he turned back to look at something. The lapping water sounded like drums, harmonizing with the sea, which was like a single, magnificent violin—too beautiful for ordinary men to comprehend.
"Mana unified when the King died on the throne, and the castle collapsed. I'm still surprised at how violent it was. But at least you saved this mermaid. I'd been curious since taking the position of the Stone Sage, but I never sought the answer."
"I saved her because we have to pass through this waterfall. It'll save us the headache we had coming here. I was busy climbing up and down that damned ancient ship. Plus, controlling a ship that doesn't even have a helm? I had to use my bow as a rudder. It wasn't easy. Even though my warriors helped, it felt like I was doing it alone. I'm not a monkey to climb ropes! Also, I can't fly like that blood-bird woman. She really got under my skin! When I get back, I'm getting drunk on that red straw wine formula or I won't forgive myself. Guarding that tower for so long is deadly boring."
As the stone debris fell and destroyed everything, the people scattered, abandoning their arrogant king. In the treasury behind the wave-throne, the faintly breathing mermaid woman sang a final aria for Helm just as he turned away, after collecting the body of him, the one who plunged Vionnair's blood-blade into the King. He still hadn't let go of it. He, who had fallen from the body of the stabbed King, was finally lifted out by the tall archer, along with the sobbing mermaid, as he trampled over the collapsing ruins.
"Are we going to keep him tied up like this all the way to the outskirts of Seniffort, Helm?"
"Keep him tied up. I'm too tired to use my Soul-Slaying Arrow; I need to save my strength to control the ship. The more important thing now is: Where the hell is that black-armored fool! She left her armor under the boat for a moment while I was about to get some fish to chew on, and now she's transforming and flying around! Unbelievable."
Phorzons called toward the mainmast, the center pole between the other two. A figure was tied securely to it, eyes closed, as if he had never truly slept. The arrow, lodged there earlier, was not removed. Helm glanced briefly after the comment. The one tightly bound by ropes did not struggle. He did not cry out in pain. He did not call out to the mermaid maiden's voice. He did nothing but grasp Vionnair's sword, never letting go since the moment, until blood seeped through the metal of his hand, creating a thin, hot mist that drifted with the wind as the ship neared the waterfall in the middle of the ocean.
The moisture from the sea. The mermaid's cries sounded like thanks to her savior. She swam in the water, plunging beneath the dark waves, leaping over the large ship several times, sometimes splashing them with seawater.
"Vionn! Where are you, damn it! We're almost at the inter-plate ferry-ship! Are you going to fly forever? Get down here now! If the feathers you have start floating away, we'll all sink! I know you're flying around here! Stop pretending you can't hear me and hurry up and take that sword out of this guy's hand!"
Phorzons walked past the irritated Helm, who was standing on a barrel of fish. His voice was laced with life-weariness, like a brother trying to coax a sister back home just to know she was still breathing. The cleric squatted down next to him, whose eyes were still closed because his mind was locked away, but his grip on the sword tightened with every large ocean wave the ship passed. The cleric tilted his head mercifully. The blurred eyes of the former Stone Sage looked at the being before him, who, in some sense, could now be called him. The cleric reached out a hand and touched his forehead.
"He's quite hot. I hope your Soul-Slaying Arrow isn't giving him nightmares. The spirit I see within him is so vast, it's as if he has never lived inside this body. Should I name him now?"
"Hey, hey! What madman names a creature whose nature—whether demon or human—hasn't even been determined yet? You're something else. No wonder that vampire-bird girl likes sucking the blood of young clerics. You're all probably insane. Truly annoying. Truly annoying."
"Your moods are volatile, much like Miguelroz, just that he doesn't talk as much."
"Are you trying to mock me? Being alone with you, I might just kick you into the sea to go swimming with the mermaid down there."
Phorzons laughed, but just as his hand was about to lift from the forehead of him, he felt a faint yet violent touch of sound that made him recoil for a split second. The vision he saw was a body—not the one tied before him—but him weeping on a battlefield, holding the body of the him Phorzons was seeing, his own blood-stained body lying in his arms. The sound of wings drew close to the great ship. The cleric broke free of his trance. The fishing nets, some of which had not been properly stowed, littered the deck around the ship, and his long hair was tangled throughout them.
Helm looked at Phorzons, who had just emerged from his vision. The white-eyed cleric sat still for so long that the archer had to tap his shoulder to call him back to the present.
"My apologies. I almost woke him up. I thought my own head was severed just now."
"It's not your fault. It's just that this guy has absorbed too many memories in his body, and they're spilling out. So, you know what? You should recite a prayer. Maybe it'll calm you down so you stop touching things haphazardly!"
The sound of wings spread, a shadow slicing through the air. From a small bird to a being soaring high. Vionnair had transformed into a blood-red eagle, but its head was longer than a normal eagle's, with a fringe of feathers around its eyes like long knife-scars. Feathers from the woman drifted onto Helm's head.
The mermaid below the rippling water sang as they neared the waterfall ahead, and the shadow of the colossal ship came into view, closest to the falls. This was the gate back to the other land, above the waterfall. The blood-eagle woman's screech was fearsome yet melodic, alternating with the song of the small mermaid in the waters below. The waves grew stronger as they drew close to the ship ahead.
A swift, agile shadow darted past the three of them, creating a strong gust of wind. Helm watched, and Phorzons offered a small, mocking smile.
"Truly annoying! Do I really have to take your armor with me?! I can't believe your idea!"
"Stop whining like an old man, you crazy archer. Just pick it up."
She flew away from the escaping fishing boat towards the immense ship by the waterfall—the gateway to a distant land. Her body returned to its original form. She wore no clothes or armor, as if leaving them behind to be liberated. She stood majestically, letting every strand of hair flow with the strong wind from the waterfall before her. The waterfall roared as if holding up another world above it. The sound of lapping water occasionally broke through. The mermaid neared the giant ship where she stood alone.
Her skin, formerly bird feathers, returned to a pale white. Her feet stepped onto the filthy, algae-covered deck of this ship. It didn't look like a ship at all. All around were giant, black fishing nets, or clumps of seaweed resembling hair, but bleached white. The stench of the sea filled the air, but the woman showed no distaste for her surroundings, even naked.
"We're coming aboard."
The large ship where the two men and one being remained docked next to the colossal vessel, like a baby whale swimming alongside its mother, many times its size. They stood ready to jump and abandon their boat.
The mermaid swam up, surging up to catch them as they leaped to cross to the other ship. When it was the turn of the one by the mast, Phorzons carefully cut the rope with his hands, carried the body on his back, and let the mermaid carry both of them up.
"Thank you."
Phorzons said, watching the mermaid maiden swim away into the ocean. She left them all on the ancient ship. The woman did not wave, she simply swam away, as if this were the last time they would meet, without a word of farewell.
"And how do we proceed? I flew the entire way when I came here. I've never used this route."
"First, I think you should put on your armor, vampire girl."
Helm tossed her the armor. The sound of the waterfall was clearer than ever before, right in front of them. The swooshing sound was one you could listen to forever. Phorzons gently leaned him against the wooden wall of the mastless ship. The tall archer led the way.
"Just try not to fall. And present your feathers with me."
He drew his bow again. Vionnair walked closer to him to look at the waterfall, extending her hand for her charred black feather to lead the way for everyone. The colossal ship began to tremble. Phorzons simply stood in silence, next to the body of him, who still firmly gripped the sword. The ship lifted. As a blue light emanated from the tip of the archer's arrow, the high waves of the sea surged and gathered at the arrowhead of the garrulous warrior. The ocean water rose high above the ship. The surrounding sounds of the wooden planks, which seemed worthless, floated up and formed a dome, creating a darkness like that of a blind person. Everything was silent yet chaotic as the giant ship slowly sailed closer to the echoing roar of the sea.
The spectacle of nature's choosing. Various sea creatures of uncertain form beneath the water. Some looked like rays the size of whales. Others resembled eels with fins that draped like clothing. They, aboard the ancient, nameless vessel of a former traveler from another land who left not even a bone behind, were not panicked. They merely closed their eyes. Only him cracked his eyelids slightly, observing everything, even in the darkness. He had been accustomed to it for too long to count, before drifting off to sleep again.
"Pain… hand… bleeding—pain."
He whispered quietly, unheard by anyone.
Would you like me to continue translating the next chapter when it becomes available?