Chapter12: The Visitors from the Carbonihar Kingdom


A few days later, Roberta was at the Lord's manor.


She had returned to the city of Freiche with Ulrich and headed straight for the reception room of the Lord's manor. A large rectangular table sat in the center, and


she sat opposite Ulrich.


An attendant entered and placed a cup of Songhwacha before Ulrich. When asked, 'For the Priestess as well?' she vehemently waved her hands in refusal, 'Ah, no, I'm fine.'


It was a scent she could never get used to. The Lord was drinking it right in front of her, and the smell alone was enough to make her frown. She stole a glance at him.


He calmly sipped the Songhwacha. She trembled, dumbfounded by his lack of reaction, wondering if his nose was stuffed and his tongue paralyzed.


"You seem to be enjoying it."


"Does it look that way?"


*Wasn't he?*


She studied his expression again, wondering if he was forcing himself to drink it despite the awful taste, but there was no change. He drank it as calmly and peacefully as if he were savoring a true delicacy.


*What an incomprehensible man.:*


As she was quietly observing him, the guests soon entered.


There were six guests. Five men and one woman. All six had light brown skin, and either their eyes or their hair were red.


Their attire was nearly the same as when they had first arrived in the city. They had only removed their breastplates. The thickly quilted clothes and the swords at their waists remained.


It was customary for guests to disarm when meeting a Lord, but Ulrich didn't mind. He had anyone who sought him come as they were at the time of their visit.


"Hm?"


One of the guests made a sound.


He was a middle-aged man named Bellido, the Count of Motrilda. With a good deal of white mixed into his crimson hair, he looked to be over fifty.


Roberta whispered the Count's name to Ulrich. For a moment, his gaze paused on them, glinted, and then faded.


The Count looked back and forth between Ulrich and Roberta, tilting his head. The rest of his party did the same. They must have come hearing that the Lord was waiting in the reception room, but the only people they saw were two youths.


"Did I have that same expression?"


Roberta suppressed a bitter smile.


She could clearly read the bewilderment on the Count's face. They must have heard that the Lord of Dithmarschen was an ancient man.


They had probably assumed he was a half-blood who had lived for at least 300 years.


"Did I have that same expression."


Roberta suppressed a bitter smile.


She could clearly read the bewilderment on the Count's face. They must have heard that the Lord of Dithmarschen was an ancient man.


They had probably assumed he was a half-blood who had lived for at least 300 years.


But look at Ulrich's appearance.


Did he look as if he had aged even a little?


The six people had briefly seen Roberta on the day they arrived in Freiche, so they knew she wasn't the Lord. Besides, she was wearing the robes of a Priestess.


If the Lord was in the room, circumstantially, it had to be him.


"Are you...?"


The Count asked.


"The Duke of Dithmarschen, is that right?"


*That's right, you've come to the right place.*


"You're very different from what I've heard."


He looked at Ulrich with a dubious expression.


"I heard the Duke of Dithmarschen was an old man who has lived for over 300 years."


"I've been the Lord for about that long. But I'm no old man."


"And that you have pointed ears from your Elven blood."


"A baseless rumor."


Ulrich replied curtly while drinking his tea.


"...Are you really the Duke of Dithmarschen?"


His gaze remained full of suspicion.


"Have a seat:"


Ulrich ignored him and gestured to a chair, but the Count just stared with his mouth shut. The deep furrows in his brow showed he was still highly suspicious.


Watching this, Roberta stood up.


"Count, I will vouch that this man is Ulrich-nim, the Lord of Dithmarschen. I am a servant of Ganimea-nim, and this should add truth to my words."


She opened her right hand and gathered Mana in its center, and soon a blue sigil materialized above her bare palm. It was the seal that proved she was an official Priestess of the Pantheon, and upon seeing it, the Count grunted, "Hmm," and took a step forward, convinced.


"Count Bellido of Motrilda... I am."


Then, he placed his right hand on his chest and hesitated for a moment before giving Ulrich a very slight nod, just enough to be considered a bow.


*Since the Priestess vouched for him, he couldn't openly doubt him, but it must have been unsettling to accept that this ridiculously young man was a centuries-old elder.*


And that feeling was evident in his tone.


"I am a noble of the Carbonihar Kingdom, and those behind me are my vassals and escorts for this journey. I apologize for my doubt. As you might understand, it's impossible to guess your age•• from your appearance."


It was a tone that neither belittled nor particularly elevated its subject. Considering Ulrich's age and title, and the Count's position as a guest, it was an ambiguous attitude.


Roberta noticed this and looked at Ulrich.


"This happens often."


He raised a corner of his mouth slightly. Then he rested his right elbow on the armrest of his chair, propped his chin on his fist, and gestured with his other hand for them to sit.


Roberta noticed this and looked at Ulrich.


"This happens often."


He raised a corner of his mouth slightly. Then he rested his right elbow on the armrest of his chair, propped his chin on his fist, and gestured with his other hand for them to sit.


The Count sat opposite the Lord, with his vassals sitting on either side of him.


"So, what is the reason you sought me out? I heard something on your way here, but I'd like to hear it from you directly. As I understand it, Carbonihar is a distant southern kingdom. Was it worth coming all the way to this polar region?"


"Would I have come through all this trouble if it weren't?"


The Count gave a bitter smile.


"I am looking for a dragon. A dragon by the name of Narvakayani."


*'Narvakayani,' he said.*


"Have you perhaps heard anything about it?"


Instead of answering, Ulrich gave a slight nod of his chin, silently prompting him to continue. At this, the Count raised an eyebrow and spoke.


"It's a dragon with pure white, translucent scales. It's taller than the inner castle here, has six wings, and the tip of its tail is sharp like a bundle of thorns. I've obtained information that it has made its nest on the Ice Peninsula. That's why I've come. To enter the Ice Peninsula."


"Indeed."


"As the Duke of Dithmarschen•• must know," he cleared his throat and continued. "That place is a Magyeong. A land filled with monsters created by an evil god, a no-man's-land that even Emperor Taiwon could not conquer. I am not so reckless as to enter such a place with just six people."


"Would having a guide make a difference?"


"We wouldn't get lost, at least."


Ulrich chuckled and took his chin off his fist.


"You've come to the right place. Just as you said. Narvakayani is on the peninsula. I don't know who told you, but they have sharp ears."


The Count chimed in, 'Indeed, they have very sharp ears.' It was the reaction of someone who had already been certain and was now receiving confirmation.


Roberta, on the other hand, narrowed her eyes as she listened quietly to the conversation. *Someone told them?*


A question arose in her mind, but she wasn't the one in the conversation, and Ulrich didn't ask. He simply nodded once and continued speaking.


"However, that is a place where guides do not go."


"They don't go? Why not?"


"Because it's dangerous."


The Count frowned and asked.


"I am well aware of the danger! I intend to offer a handsome reward commensurate with the risk. If possible, I'm even thinking of hiring more men in addition to a guide."


"No, my words were a bit unclear."


Ulrich shook his head and said.


"It would be more accurate to say it's a place one cannot go, even if they wanted to. No matter how large a group you lead, the place where Narvakayani resides is unreachable. Just like Taiwon."


The Count flared up, about to say something, but then closed his mouth. He scratched the back of his neck with a grimace and looked at his vassals. After exchanging a silent glance, he looked back at Ulrich.


"Why? Is it that dangerous?"


Ulrich tilted his teacup and took a sip.


Just then, an attendant came in and placed Songhwacha before the guests. They lifted their cups, but immediately set them down with a grunt at the overpowering aroma that wafted up.


"You know the reason it's called the Ice Peninsula, I assume."


"It's because the sorcerers and the Elves had a massive battle there, isn't it?"


A bored gaze pierced Ulrich.


"In places like the Ice Peninsula, which became battlegrounds because they wielded Mana indiscriminately, the flow of Mana became tangled, right? It's written plainly in the scriptures. I've heard it ad nauseam, so there's no need to say it."


"Then, have you considered the consequences of that entanglement?"


"Well—"


A bored gaze pierced Ulrich.


"In places like the Ice Peninsula, which became battlegrounds because they wielded Mana indiscriminately, the flow of Mana became tangled, right? It's written plainly in the scriptures.


"Then, have you considered the consequences of that entanglement?"


"Well—"


Ulrich cut the Count off and answered his own question.


"Mana is one of the elements that constitutes the world. An irregular flow of Mana means it causes changes beyond imagination. The constant blizzards in Dithmarschen would be an example."


......


•"But life is a wondrous thing. Even in environments we humans can't even fathom, there are sometimes species that adapt and survive."


Ulrich called an attendant and had a tome placed on the table. It was a book so large that the attendant grunted and strained to carry it in both arms; its width was the length from a fingertip to an elbow, and its height was slightly less than that.


When the tome was opened and placed on the table, it landed with a *thud*, sending dust flying in all directions. The attendant vigorously wiped the dust away before handing his master a pair of glasses.


*'Glasses?'* Roberta tilted her head.


I'd never heard he had poor eyesight.


Ulrich picked up the glasses and paused. He looked like a man lost in a sudden thought. The simple-looking glasses seemed to have stirred something within him.


But it was only for a moment. A faint flicker of emotion that only Roberta, who was observing him closely, could perceive. To the guests seeing him for the first time, he would simply seem slow to act, she thought.


He perched the glasses on the tip of his nose and opened the book.


A bizarre illustration was revealed on the very first page.


"This is...?"


the Count asked, looking at the illustration.


"A village."


"No, that's not what I mean. Where did you acquire this?"


"I didn't acquire it. I made it myself."


He wrote it himself?


Roberta glanced back and forth between the massive tome and Ulrich. The book was old and faded, but the illustrations were so meticulously detailed that the immense effort poured into them was apparent at a single glance.


"As you can see, I've outlined the monsters here."


He pushed the glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger and slowly turned the pages, one by one.


"The creatures I point to as we go are the ones that inhabit the peninsula."


Then he added, 'The descriptions are written at the bottom of the illustrations. Read them for reference, though you won't truly grasp it until you've experienced it for yourself."


After turning a few pages, Ulrich's hand stopped.


There was an illustration of a flower.


Its head was round like an iron ball and resembled a poppy. At first glance, one might laugh it off, thinking, 'This is a monster?' But in the bottom right corner, a person was drawn.


A person of average height had been drawn next to it for scale, and the person was less than a tenth the size of the flower.


That was not all. In small letters at the bottom of the illustration, it read, '••••••. Releases pollen that causes hallucinations. When a target approaches, it binds them with its stem and forces them into its blossom-like mouth. The mouth is filled with an acidic solution that dissolves and absorbs its prey."


No one spoke.


That was not all. In small letters at the bottom of the illustration, it read, '••••••. Releases pollen that causes hallucinations. When a target approaches, it binds them with its stem and forces them into its blossom-like mouth.


At that, Ulrich turned two more pages.


An illustration of a spider smaller than a person's palm appeared.


The spider's form was like that of a common house spider, only larger. But after reading the description below, Roberta furrowed her brow.


'•••…Stabs the ovipositor on its abdomen into the target's skin to inject its eggs. If not removed immediately, it will release hundreds of eggs into the body. Within hours, the eggs hatch and devour the host from the inside out, killing it.'


The pages that followed were filled with similarly gruesome monsters.


Roberta wondered—no, everyone in the room must have been wondering the same thing. How could he possibly know about these monsters, which none of them had ever seen or heard of before?


"I imagine you have some understanding now."


Ulrich closed the book and took off his glasses.


"This is what the Ice Peninsula is like. Due to the influence of an old incident, the flow of Mana has become twisted, and the flora and fauna living there have been affected by it. It's not called the Magyeong for nothing."


0..... is there.'


"The only places the guides can take you are where such dangers are relatively low—very, very low. And Count, the Narvakayani you seek lies beyond that.'


Ulrich looked at the Count and asked.


"Do you still intend to go?"


The Count couldn't answer. At a glance, he seemed to be deep in thought, brow furrowed with a low hum. But Roberta saw him subtly glance at someone.


His gaze was fixed on one of his vassals.


"Stop letting others speak for you."


How could he not have noticed what she had?


Ulrich looked at the man sitting next to the Count and said.


"A descendant of Banares."


The man didn't immediately grasp the meaning behind his words. He sat still, pretending not to have heard, then his eyes suddenly shot wide open and he leaped to his feet.


"Wh-what are you talking about.:

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