[171] 1. Kergo Autonomous District (3)
Outsiders trampled Kergo under every pretext. Countless women had been violated under the guise of searches. No matter how warped a companion's hatred, siding with outsiders was unthinkable.
"Start the inspection now. You—come here and hold out your arm."
Amy stood her ground, a mixture of refusal and wary caution in her posture.
If the man hadn't been dangerous, she would've struck him the moment she felt the insult. But his killing intent wasn't to be taken lightly. If a fight broke out, it would become a commotion, and this wasn't the place for that.
"You're really pushing it."
Rian stepped in front of Amy. Amy might be better at reading situations, but if someone intended to trample a woman's dignity, Rian felt it was his place to intervene.
"Even if Palkoa is dead, Freeman's organization is still intact. Treat us like this and you won't remain safe either."
Invoking Freeman's influence was a clever tactic from Rian. Amy thought it was a good move.
But the Kergo were far more belligerent than they expected.
Mahatu's face flushed as if a sacred vein had been struck.
"Is that a challenge? Come at us then. Kergo never runs."
—Everyone stand down. Mahatu is concentrating, Arin's mental channel warned.
By the time the message finished, everyone felt it: a fighting spirit so intense even blunt Rian could sense the unease.
Amy aimed her Spirit Zone. How high Mahatu's combat spirit rose would decide the shape of any fight.
A long, resonant blast echoed from the far side of the cavern.
If the sound reached into the winding tunnels, one could guess how massive the horn was.
As the horn's tone rolled through the cave, Mahatu stared toward the entrance in surprise.
His companions reacted even more strongly, shoulders trembling in disbelief.
"Mahatu, that's the Horn of Jingok. How on earth—"
Before his companion finished, Mahatu bolted.
"Damn! Why the Horn of Jingok? Has war broken out?"
The Horn of Jingok was the highest alarm set by the Kergo tribe. The moment it sounded, every tribesperson had to gather at its source. No class was exempt; failure to appear brought punishment.
With the natives gone, Amy and the others were left bewildered.
"What's going on? Something's happening outside."
"Let's go check. Staying at the dead end is dangerous."
They left the cave and followed the sound until they arrived.
A vast square where seven tunnels converged opened before them.
Natives were pouring in, so many that it was impossible to tell what was happening.
The murmur swelled, making individual voices hard to catch. They hoped for Arin's mental channel, but she just stared at the dais.
"Kneel and worship! The messenger of God has come to save us!"
An old man on the dais shouted. Hundreds—likely over a thousand—people dropped to their knees and answered in one voice.
"We welcome the messenger of God."
As if the world itself had sunk, the crowd knelt. The approach to the dais opened, and Shirone, standing before the old man, came into view.
Shirone's sweeping eyes met Amy's. Though they'd been only two hours apart, too many absurd events had already happened; Shirone couldn't contain his emotion.
"Amy."
Those who had cried "messenger of God" fell silent. The hush spread in ripples, and several people looked at Amy.
Mahatu was among them. Amy knew she would long remember the bewildered look on his face.
"Shirone."
The natives' gazes returned to Shirone, intent on catching every single word he spoke.
Shirone's face went miserable.
"Amy, why are these people like this? I can't understand a thing they're saying."
Amy scratched an eyebrow at Shirone, who looked on the verge of tears.
And she thought to herself.
How should I know?
When Shirone took a step, the crowd split like bamboo being cleft. Their discipline even while kneeling was a sign of tension.
Shirone looked haggard. After two hours exposed to an unfamiliar language, that was only natural.
Usually, when words fail, people give up on conversation, but the keepers of the altar never left Shirone alone for a moment.
"I felt like I was going to die of frustration. Every time I opened my mouth they'd bow, so I couldn't say a thing and left. Why are they acting like this toward me?"
"I don't know. We just got here too. Did we pass the test?"
"Yeah, I think so, but there's a problem."
"What problem?"
Explaining the scene Miro had shown in his spacetime would take forever. There wasn't time, and the situation wasn't good.
The old man who had blown the horn approached Shirone.
Mahatu followed behind him, thoughts in turmoil. If this boy really was the messenger of God, that meant he had opened all eight of Miro's spacetime gates—yet contrary to Mahatu's expectations, the boy was a soft, downy youth, and that shocked him.
—Absolute obedience to the messenger of God.
The phrase had been drilled into Mahatu's ears since childhood.
This wasn't the outsider's religious faith. To the Kergo, as subjects obey a king, the god was an actual power.
Mahatu quickened his steps toward Shirone. If this truly was the messenger of God, before facing the elder he had to atone for the insult he'd shown Amy and the others.
"Revered messenger of God, pardon my boldness, but are these people your companions?"
Just as Jis stepped forward to interpret, Mahatu raised a hand to stop him.
"No—someone here seems to be using a psychic ability. If that person is present, have them converse with the messenger."
Mahatu's realization had begun when Amy's voice rose.
Normally, when a translator stands between parties, speech becomes simple and brief, but there was a sense that Shirone understood parts of the Kergo tongue quite accurately.
Arin's Spirit Zone seeped into Mahatu's shadow.
Shirone was flustered by the voice ringing in his head, but once he realized what the ability was, he nodded.
Seeing that Shirone was ready, Mahatu repeated his earlier question.
"Messenger of God, are these people indeed your companions?"
"Yes. They're my friends."
Mahatu nodded solemnly. He wasn't afraid to die, but offending Shirone's friends risked his tribe's fate.
Kergo's downfall hadn't been caused by Lupna's civil war or a volcanic eruption. Officially that was the story, but beneath it lay a truth no one spoke of.
The Kergo had angered an angel.
And the boy standing before them was a descendant of angels.
The tale passed down for five hundred years had planted a deep-seated fear in every Kergo's subconscious.
Mahatu's expression shifted—from chagrin to fear, then back to resolve. He dropped to his knees with such force it seemed he might break, shouting,
"I am sorry! Please kill me! I have grievously offended your party!"
"Offended? What offense? You didn't assault anyone, did you?"
Shirone snapped at them, on guard against their near-fanatical behavior. He would not forgive anyone who had touched his friends.
"Oh, it's nothing major. Just some bickering. You know how we are—things like that."
Amy's words were almost colloquial. There had been a clash, but she hoped it could be let go given the complicated circumstances.
Mahatu looked at Amy with gratitude. Relieved that he hadn't endangered his people's future, he yielded the place to the elder.
The old man, introducing himself as Hashid, head of the Kergo elders, asked Shirone a meaningful question while leaning on his staff.
"Did you come after receiving Miro's message?"
Shirone recalled the scene he'd seen in the Hall of Achievement and Sacrifice. It had flashed by too quickly, leaving only shards of information, but each shard was vivid.
When Shirone nodded, the elder turned, staff in hand.
The natives gathered in the square waited for an answer.
"At last, the messenger of God has descended upon Kergo!"
Shirone's party covered their ears. As soon as Hashid's words fell, the natives roared like warriors.
The cave filled with sound until it felt like the ceiling might burst.
Amid the exultant cries came intermittent sobs. The destitute edged through the crowd and knelt before Shirone.
"Messenger of God, my child is ill. Please heal them."
Arin's channel was linked to Mahatu, so he could understand the woman's plea. But Shirone did not possess the power to cure sick children.
A man crawled beside a woman and folded his hands, pleading.
"Please give us food! Our family is starving."
From there, supplications arrived without end.
"Grant me eternal life!"
"Please spare only my daughter Atore! She's already betrothed!"
"Turn me into a woman!"
Arin clapped her hands over her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. The visions transmitted through her psychic sight were flooded with crimson; it felt like staring into boiling lava. If she accepted any more of the people's yearning, her mind might shatter.
"Kanis! The voices in my head are too loud!"
"Close the channel. You might get hurt."
Shirone was trapped by the crowd, unable to move. With Arin cutting the telepathic link, interpretation was impossible, yet waves of raw emotion still crashed over him, squeezing his heart. It felt like mass hypnosis—madness was the keyword.
Shirone looked to Hashid and Mahatu for help. But they only watched their kin with sad eyes.
"Everyone, be quiet!"
A man's shout cut through, and silence fell.
A young man walked from the northern tunnel flanked by burly warriors. He wasn't huge, but his muscles were taut and bulging enough to intimidate those guarding him. His hair was long and swept back, and a golden tattoo marked his face.
Arin opened her eyes.
The emotion she perceived through psychic sight was awe.
But there was more than that.
Fear lay beneath it—a psychic signature common when facing an iron-fisted ruler. The man was clearly the head of Kergo.
The man who approached Shirone introduced himself.
"I am Kadum, chief of Kergo. From now on, I will be at your service."
Shirone checked with his friends.
No one opposed. To get anything in an autonomous district, sooner or later you had to meet this person.
And that had been Jis's mission up to this point.
Shirone said regretfully, "We'll handle things from here. It might be dangerous."
Jis didn't show offense and merely nodded. The reason Shirone's group trusted him was that he didn't cling to pointless pride.
They shook hands and Jis said with concern, "Be careful. This autonomous district seems very different from the Kergo I know."
"Yeah. It'll be fine. And thanks for translating."
"If it helped, I'm glad. Drop by my house when you're done. Yuna'll have a lot of good food ready."
Shirone asked Kadum to see Jis safely to the ruins. One after another, people volunteered to guide him—eager to follow Shirone's instruction. Arin picked someone she could trust.
Jis left the Kergo autonomous district with the big warrior.
Kadum guided Shirone and his party deeper into the cave.
Even after twenty minutes of walking, they hadn't reached their destination. If this path ended abruptly, any traveler would collapse.
A labyrinth isn't only complex in design. The autonomous district's maze overwhelmed them by sheer scale.