Chapter 418 - Choice (2)
Clatter, clatter.
The window rattled under the storming blizzard outside.
With that as the backdrop, Verden leaned his weight onto one of the two chairs.
'A solitary cabin perched halfway up a snow-covered mountain, huh.'
It was as severely isolated as a deserted island in the middle of a vast ocean, but… it had a certain charm.
Piiiii—
The kettle placed atop the fireplace let out a shriek, spewing white steam.
The water had finished boiling.
The old man dropped red-glowing tea leaves into a pre-warmed teapot and poured the hot water in.
Another three minutes of waiting.
He tilted the pot and filled two cups.
Thanks to the strainer inside, the steeped leaves didn't escape.
The man took a seat opposite Verden. Two cups sat between them.
"It's not refined at all, but it will warm the body. It even gives some vitality. The taste itself is nothing special though."
Slurp, the man sipped first.
As if to show there was nothing strange in it, he drank slowly, bit by bit.
Had it been cold water, he would have downed it in one gulp.
"Thank you for the tea."
Verden lifted his robe and drank.
He had [Ainber], so poisons meant nothing to him. There was no need for hesitation.
"..."
The man gazed blankly at Verden.
Hearing his voice, he had assumed he was older… and yet, he truly was young.
An appearance he had never seen before.
Neither his face nor his robe was ordinary. Unlike the nobles he had occasionally glimpsed, he was on an entirely different level.
The two quietly sipped their tea.
The man deliberately refrained from speaking to Verden.
If a guest of such noble bearing had come to the Blue Mountains, there must have been a serious reason.
'It would trouble him.'
He didn't want to pry.
It was deep consideration. The man treated him with utmost respect and caution.
Having drunk half his tea, Verden glanced around the interior with his eyes.
The cabin was spacious for a single resident.
But there was hardly any empty space. The handcrafted furniture was quite stylish, but what drew the most attention were the sculptures.
'Exceedingly intricate.'
The carvings decorating the cabin were meticulously detailed, especially those of women and children.
Judging by the well-worn, specialized tools, the man must have once been in that line of work.
"Impressive carvings. They would sell as fine art."
"Ah…"
Startled by the sudden compliment, the man laughed.
"Haha, it's a clumsy hobby of mine. Just a trifling hand skill… but not bad for passing lonely hours. Especially when going outside is this difficult."
"The weather is certainly harsh."
"That is why people avoid the Blue Mountains."
The man nodded.
But why then had he chosen to live here?
"This doesn't look like a place for ordinary people to live. Was there a particular reason you built a cabin here?"
"Mm."
"If it troubles you, you don't need to say."
"No, no. It's just… it's been so long since I last had a conversation with anyone, I'm simply awkward."
The man pursed his lips.
"Living among people, I suddenly realized there was no place for me. So I left the city without plan, wandering here and there, until I stumbled upon this place."
No one around.
So he stayed.
"It may look barren, but if one works diligently, it's quite livable. A little down the slope, there are edible plants and mushrooms, and rabbits are caught from time to time. Even demi-humans and magical beasts avoid this place, so ironically it's rather safe."
His story seemed to run deep.
Though they had just met, the sole inhabitant of the Blue Mountains left a strong impression.
Verden wouldn't deny it. He was curious about the man's past.
"You may speak more at length."
The teapot floated up.
At Verden's will, both their cups refilled. Rising steam wavered in sight.
A Mage.
Only then did the man recognize part of Verden's identity.
His throat was dry.
He drank again to warm himself, then continued.
It was a sudden impulse.
A listener in the Blue Mountains was rare indeed.
And equally, he too was curious about the robed stranger who wielded magic.
***
"I was born into the most ordinary family. I worked the fields with my farmer parents, harvesting, living day by day. Never committed a single crime, truly an average life."
But.
"One day, on their way back from a nearby village, my father and mother were attacked by a magical beast and killed. On a common road where not even demi-humans or animals ever appeared. It turned out to be an accident caused by adventurers who had made a mistake during a subjugation."
It wasn't uncommon.
Adventurers couldn't always handle every variable.
Especially the inexperienced ones.
"At the time, it was a devastating tragedy for me. I could only drown in grief, and as their only surviving kin, I did nothing. Because of that, their deaths ended without resolution. I received neither compensation nor an apology from the adventurer guild. What greater unfilial act could there be for a child?"
"I understand."
Uncontrollable, fierce emotions disturb and paralyze reason. Rational thought becomes impossible.
Verden had felt that himself.
The man's voice trembled with sorrow, yet no tears fell.
The sudden loss of his parents had long since been carried away by time.
"Still, as the years passed, I gradually recovered. I worked the fields again, lived on. Eventually I sold my land and moved to a small city."
He had been twenty-two.
"All I knew was farming, so I went about the city taking whatever work I could. That's when I realized I had a fair hand, so I threw myself into trades."
From morning to evening he did carpentry, after that he assisted at a smithy, and before bed he practiced by carving statues, honing his craft.
Twenty years went by like that.
"I married an inn worker who, like me, had lost her parents early. She was the kindest of women and brewed tea exquisitely. Together we had a son, a sweet child who resembled us both."
He had been truly happy.
Though modest, they donated to the Church of Luas every month and never missed daily prayers.
Each day had been fulfilling.
"...But as before, tragedy came without warning."
His son fell with a raging fever.
Not something mild like a cold. It wasn't curable with common medicine from the market.
"The priest of Luas told us only a bishop's miracle could save him. But someone of such stature would never be in a remote town like ours."
They would have to travel to a large city.
But they lacked the money for the required donations. More importantly, their frail son could never survive the journey.
Pleading to the Church was useless. No bishop would be dispatched for their sake.
Even nobles were no exception. Luas' Church followed its doctrine, bowing neither to individuals nor to power.
───Please…!
"My wife and I scoured the city, begged every connection, searching desperately for a cure… to no avail. Then, in that hellish time, my wife appeared, hair disheveled, holding a potion like foul wash water, claiming it a cure. Hard to believe, yet when we gave it, our son's condition began to improve."
Their son was recovering.
He said so, yet his face remained shadowed. Clearly, the ending was grim.
Noticing his cup empty, Verden silently refilled it.
"Then, some days later… under blazing sunlight. A priest clad in oppressive armor, the emblem of Luas emblazoned, pounded on our door."
"That was…"
"Yes. An Inquisitor. He leveled his mace at my wife, denouncing her as a worshiper of demons."
***
The Church of Luas might appear gentle, but its dominance as a world religion was not born of peace or kindness.
The divine power was undeniable.
On that foundation, they crushed all other faiths and beliefs with overwhelming might.
The Inquisitors were part of that.
They did not show mercy to heresy or demons.
No compassion. Only ruthlessness.
"My wife… she followed the Inquisitor without a word, and days later, she appeared in the square, her body mangled."
───To betray the Light…!
───Filthy wench!
───O Luas, punish this fallen human!
"Up until just yesterday, those who had been neighbors and colleagues hurled curses at my wife without restraint. They spat every kind of malediction at her. And then, my wife, meeting my eyes… her hands were severed, and her head struck off. Th-that blood…"
The man's hands trembled violently.
Though it had been decades ago, it was still vivid. Branded like a curse, it was a nightmare and a reality that would never fade for the rest of his life.
Verden handed him a handkerchief.
The man expressed his thanks with difficulty, and wiped away the tears that seeped out with ragged sobs.
"…I was declared innocent. The Inquisitor had thoroughly distinguished between worshippers and did not apply guilt by association."
In other words, the charge against his wife had been that certain.
That was why she had not resisted.
"And as my son was slowly recovering, once the medicine my wife had given him daily was gone, his health quickly declined, and the very next day he left my side. That day, I dug two graves."
The man was alone once more.
He had lost his family twice, grief pierced him deeply, yet… part of him thought that since he had risen once, he might rise again.
But it was hard.
The gazes around him were unbearably cold. People he had seen for years turned away, and at times scorned him.
Because his wife had made a deal with a demon.
Though the conclusion was that he himself was no worshipper, the devotion of the citizens meant they wanted nothing related to demons near them, even remotely.
"That was when I realized. There was no longer a place for me in this world… and that perhaps I was born carrying far too much karma. Otherwise, how could I suffer this much?"
The man drew out the symbol of the Church of Luas from his pocket and stroked it by habit.
A rusted iron cross.
The leather strap, long since snapped, was frayed nearly to threads.
Verden asked.
"Do you not resent the Church of Luas?"
In the end, it had been the Inquisitor who killed his wife. The God of Light had ignored his offerings and prayers. Surely rage would rise.
"…The Scripture of Light says this. To be saved, one must cast away their karma, that is, their defilement. Across the whole of life."
The man murmured.
"But my wife consorted with a demon, and my son was too young to cleanse his karma. It is not because of them. It must be because I, with my own defilement, was too close to them, and thus my family could not be saved."
So.
"So here, day after day, I pray. If I do so, perhaps… perhaps those two might be saved."
The man's feelings were tangled.
Faith and doubt, yearning and hatred, all twisted together.
All the more, he pressed the iron cross harder with his fingertips.
"…Have you ever met a demon, guest?"
"No."
Verden had sometimes heard of demons.
And through Leira, cursed by one, he had indirectly brushed against their existence… but never seen one directly.
The man nodded.
"That must be because you are a strong one. Demons usually worm their way to the weak. Like my wife. Even I, who never saw a demon, feel I am still under their influence. Though it ended so long ago, even now… I still wonder why my wife met a demon, and whether, had she given our son the whole medicine, he might have lived…"
If only this, if only that.
The man was full of regrets.
But now, he lacked the will to overcome such negative emotions, and thus he lived alone.
In the Blue Mountains, where one could die at any time.
That was the man's story.
He breathed deeply, calming the writhing emotions.
Only then did he ask.
"But guest, what brings you here?"
"I came seeking a place to think in silence."
"A quiet place, hm…"
The guest was a Mage.
And without doubt, someone of exceedingly rare standing. For him to come alone to such a well-known perilous land.
Self-reflection.
The man, with both eyes and heart, sensed Verden's extraordinariness.
"Indeed, the Blue Mountains are so harsh that they are suited to facing oneself. As it happens, I know of a place that might be just what you are searching for."
The man pointed beyond the window.
"Over there—on the way to the summit of the Blue Mountains, there is a great cleft in the cliff. I never went far inside, but it was certainly deep and dark. Once, I tried to climb up there, risking death, but laughably, even that was too frightening, too hard to endure, so I settled here instead, carving my memories into wood."
The man shivered as the bitter cold seeped through the crack.
"Hoo, in three weeks' time the weather will calm, so I will guide you then. My body is too old to withstand this cold. But there is enough food, so you may stay here until then."
The cold, a hindrance.
But for Verden, waiting three weeks was a trivial matter.
He summoned a light-colored robe from subspace and handed it over. One of the many magical items in Grond's vault.
"This is…"
"It carries resistance against ice, and sustains body heat. If you don't treat it too roughly, you can use it for a lifetime. I have no need of it, so take it."
"Resistance, and body heat? I, I cannot accept something so precious. I have done nothing to deserve it."
A robe that preserved body heat was worth at least tens of millions of Elk. Something ordinary citizens could never acquire.
"Then think of it as a loan. Return it after guiding me."
"Tea and a warm place. This is my return for that. Do not refuse."
The man swallowed hard.
The thought that this gift was far too much remained, but he could not form the words.
He could not refuse such a presence.
As though bewitched, the man donned the robe. Though wind seeped through the window frame, no chill touched him.
It was very warm.
"…I will accept it gratefully."
Strength welled up in the frail man.
"Then, there is no need to wait three weeks. I will guide you now. That is the least I can do."
They pressed through the blizzard.
True to the name Blue Mountains, all around was white snow and blue ice.
The man pointed ahead.
As he had described, between the icy cliffs yawned endless darkness.
"There, that is the snow mountain cave I spoke of! Once I spent hours in there, and it felt as though the world was far away!"
Because of the roaring wind, he had to shout at the top of his lungs.
"You look like a man of great strength, so I believe nothing will befall you! But still, be careful! And before you leave, please, visit my cabin again!"
Verden nodded.
As he moved forward, he patted the man's shoulder, then headed into the cave. Before long, Verden vanished completely from the world.
"..."
The man lingered, then turned back.
The Blue Mountains tried desperately to devour him, but thanks to the robe he had been gifted, he returned safely to his cabin.
***
Bleak air, darkness.
Verden descended deeper, piercing through the world's shadows.
No beasts, no plants.
Compared to the ceaseless snowstorms and knife-edged winds outside, this was better, yet it was no place for life to take root.
Thud.
A cliff came into view.
A pebble, nudged by his foot, tumbled down, screaming into the abyss.
Verden leapt.
In an instant, he plummeted, landing silently on the cavern floor far below.
His breath echoed.
As he released
A place cut off from the world.
The stillness slowly invited oblivion, and the silence allowed no intrusion.
'Nothing could be better.'
Now.
Verden shut his sight.
At the same time, he recalled the sensations that had once enveloped his whole being, focusing his mind into one. He had no fear of failure, no concern.
Only certainty.
Hoo.
As proof, in an instant his consciousness vanished.
It was as though his body sank into a viscous mire…
'Familiar.'
Verden slowly opened his eyes.
The darkness was gone.
Before him lay not the abyss of magic, but a peaceful village.
A street, a landscape he had not seen in a long time.
───Now, watch closely.
An old neighbor extended his wrinkled hand.
Whoosh, on the empty palm, a small flame sprang to life.
The children, watching with innocent eyes, gasped and exclaimed.
───This is what magic is.
A wondrous, astonishing spectacle.
Among the young spectators, a brown-haired boy stared at the flame, eyes shining, unable to look away.
Verden turned his head.
Beside him now was the 'young Verden' he had once met in the abyss, the one who had said he was not ready.
"It was just one spell."
The boy Verden spoke softly.
"My beginning."
Verden, I, stared into the flame.
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