chapter 14: The Children of Luobeidra
A blizzard raged on the snowy mountain.
Even though it was spring, the snowstorm grew fiercer.
A heavy snowfall, rare even in winter, lashed the mountain. The snow from the past winter hadn't melted, so today's snow piled up neatly on top of it.
Amidst it all, there were eight visitors.
They walked along a cliff path on the mountain. The path was only slightly wider than a single adult, and the snow piled there was higher than their chests. It was a path one wouldn't dare attempt even with tools like shovels.
Moreover, the wind blowing on the cliff was furious, as if trying to push the visitors off the precipice, and the snow, riding the wind, threatened to obscure their vision and bury their bodies.
And yet, they walked on.
At the head of the group, a man forged a path.
He was the youngest-looking man among them.
Without any tools. He pushed forward, parting the snow with his bare hands and arms. The wall of snow became a path as he pushed it aside, and neither the fierce wind nor the flurries could slow his pace or make him lose his way.
The seven following him only looked down at the heels of the person in front of them and followed. Shivering as the cold pierced their skin despite the many layers of winter clothing they wore.
.........
After forging the path for a while, he suddenly turned his head.
He looked at the woman following right behind him. She was a woman who dared not lift her head because of the wind, following while looking at his back.
Even as he moved forward, he glanced back at her several times. His steps were unsteady. He couldn't see her expression because her head was bowed, but something was clearly wrong.
He called her name, but there was no response.
He stopped walking and narrowed his eyes, looking at her. She didn't notice that the person in front of her had stopped and took a step, then immediately bumped into him. With a small sound, "Ah," her body tilted to the side.
And the moment she started to fall sideways, he quickly reached out his right hand. He grabbed the nape of her neck and called her name once more.
"Roberta."
Only then did she, Roberta, awaken from her reverie.
At the same time, she realized her body was tilting sharply to the left.
'Roberta.'
At the same time, she realized her body was tilting sharply to the left.
It wasn't because she had missed her step. It was because he had yanked her sharply from the side. Unable to even react, she was pulled over and slammed her nose hard into his chest.
"Ugh," she groaned and lifted her face.
"That was close."
The man holding the nape of her neck, Ulrich, said.
Roberta looked to her right, where she had been standing and where she had been about to take a step. It was a precipice. Below it was empty air where a fierce wind blew, carrying snow.
A chill ran down her spine. She was walking on a cliff path. She remembered this fact belatedly. Why? A sudden mental fog had allowed a reverie to overcome her, putting her in danger.
If he hadn't caught her, she would be down there.
"Th-thank you... Lord."
Lord Ulrich let go of her nape and shook her head hard. It was enough to make her lose her balance and stagger. After that, her mind began to clear.
The reason was immediately revealed. When he opened the hand he had used to brush her head, a monster was flapping on his palm. It was a monster that looked like a translucent, flattened piece of dough, with dozens of thin, apricot-colored, thread-like tentacles in its center.
"It was stuck to your head."
"What?"
"Weren't you just feeling dazed? This thing caused it. It's a creature that secretes a hallucinogenic substance. It travels on the wind, aiming for animals' heads."
Startled, she touched her head with both hands.
She was wearing a winter hat. It was a fur hat with ear flaps, so it was quite thick, preventing the small, light monster from touching her head directly.
"It was fortunate you were wearing a hat. If it had touched your head directly, it wouldn't have ended with just a dazed feeling. The hallucination is merely a means to keep you from noticing its touch."
Ulrich clenched his fist, crushing the monster.
A memory surfaced. She had seen a drawing like this in a bestiary written by the Lord himself. 'The success rate is low, but if it luckily—or unluckily—lands on a head, it melts the skull and wraps its tentacles around the brain, slowly sucking it out.'
She let out a low "Ummm" sound and bit her lip.
.......
*Smack.* There was the sound of a sharp slap.
Looking back, she saw Duke Bailen grabbing one of his vassals by the collar. The vassal's cheek was red, indicating he'd been slapped, but he was so out of it he didn't even seem to feel the pain.
Then Bailen slapped him again and brushed the snow off the vassal's hat.
The same monster was there too.
"Always be on your guard. Here, carelessness means death."
Behind Ulrich, Roberta was amazed.
He was striding forward, parting the snow on the cliff path.
Behind Ulrich, Roberta was amazed.
Even though the snow was piled so high and the cold wind was fierce, he showed no signs of difficulty as he pushed forward, forging the path. The other seven merely walked along the path he made.
His appearance was also remarkable. Roberta and the other seven shivered in the cold despite wearing several layers of winter clothes, but Ulrich was only wearing a single light layer of clothing. To the point that anyone watching would feel cold for him.
Despite this, he not only felt no cold, but his stamina also didn't wane. Even after leading the way through the snowy mountains for days, his pace hadn't slowed in the slightest.
"There's a suitable place nearby. Just endure a little longer."
Was that all? His sense of direction was also excellent. In Roberta's eyes, there was nothing but heaps of snow, yet Ulrich never failed to know what was where and which way they had to go.
Even when the sun began to set in a place where it seemed impossible to escape the snowstorm, a cave would appear when he brushed away the snow.
Of course, there was nothing inside but cold air. But in a blizzard-swept mountain, wasn't it a blessing to be out of the wind and able to spend the night by a campfire?
"We'll be descending the mountain tomorrow, so at least the walking will be easier."
Because he knew the locations of such caves, the party never had to sleep exposed to the snowstorm. Roberta, though she already guessed the answer, asked how he knew of such places.
"I found them myself."
Ulrich replied as he undid his backpack.
"While I was the Lord of Dithmarschen, quite a few people came looking for the Ice Peninsula. Camping out was too dangerous each time. I'd be fine, but other people would likely freeze to death. So whenever I came to the Kaldorekai Mountains, I'd find places like this and memorize them."
"You have a very good memory."
"If I didn't, my guests would die. What other choice was there?"
He took out firewood and started a campfire. It was something he had gathered whenever he had a chance during the mountain trek. It seemed the stories were true that sometimes, very rarely, the snow would melt and plants would grow.
Also, since it had grown when the snow melted and then died when it snowed again, it was buried in the snow and too waterlogged to be used.
But when he held it in his hand, it became bone-dry firewood.
Roberta's eyes shone at the sight.
"I've been thinking this for a while, but have you also learned magic, Lord?"
This was the first time she had seen the Lord wield Mana since the Infant Sacrament.
"I know a fair bit. It was a basic skill back when I was born."
"For 'a fair bit,' the flow is quite delicate."
"Even you can do this much."
She gave an awkward smile and shook her head.
"I'm not very good at delicate work."
She recalled how, despite being blessed with enough Mana for the Inquisition to take an interest, she was so unskilled at handling it that she often caused accidents.
"Didn't Alonso teach you?"
"I learned, but... I'm not very good at it."
"Come to think of it, that boy never had a knack for teaching others."
Ulrich thought for a moment, then placed his hand over Roberta's and had her grasp the firewood. Startled by the sudden contact, she flinched and tried to pull her hand away.
"Lord?"
"I'll guide you, so give it a try."
"I learned, but... I'm not very good at it."
Ulrich thought for a moment, then placed his hand over Roberta's and had her grasp the firewood. Startled by the sudden contact, she flinched and tried to pull her hand away.
"I'll guide you, so give it a try."
"No... it's alrigh-"
"Trust me. I taught Alonso, too."
Roberta hesitated, but when he spoke with a serious expression, she nodded and gathered Mana at her fingertips. Then, she channeled the Mana gathered at her fingertips into the firewood, guiding the moisture held within to be expelled.
Normally, she would have failed right after. It was because her body held too much Mana. Even what she considered a small amount of Mana was too much for the firewood to handle; like rainwater overflowing a dam that has reached its maximum capacity, the firewood would have shattered.
But now it was different. The amount of Mana flowing into the firewood was very small. He was making it so. He was controlling the Mana she poured out, regulating it between her fingertips and the firewood as if controlling the sluice gates of a dam.
Her eyes widened as she looked at him.
"Did you feel that? You just have to control the flow like this."
"I think... I understand a little."
"A little calmer. Try to control the flow to the point of being timid."
Following his advice, she adjusted the flow. The dampness of the firewood in her hand turned to dryness. Only then did Ulrich remove his hand and smile.
"Remember the sensation. Mana is in the realm of sensation. If you forget it, it's hard to do it again. So you must always remember it in a flash and engrave it into your subconscious."
Roberta nodded.
You mentioned teaching Alonso-nim earlier.
"Yes, that child was also incredibly unskilled for what he possessed. The more I think about it, the more it seems the Church isn't what it used to be. It feels like good teachers are becoming rarer and rarer."
......
"If you wish, I will help you from time to time. What do you say?"
She hesitated to answer.
A Priestess of the Church asking a secular lord for instruction?
Considering her position, it was a difficult question to answer directly.
"You don't need to decide right away. It's not an urgent matter."
•••The Duke of Dithmarschen seems to be generous with his teachings."
Bailen, who had been watching quietly, interjected.
"It's a pastime. There's nothing more entertaining than nurturing a talented child." Ulrich paused for a moment, searching his memory, then continued. "In a different way, Banares was also full of talent. That's how he was able to rise to his position."
•He said you were his oppressor, however."
Ulrich smiled, shook his head, and stood up.
He looked at the party gathered around the campfire. They were warming the snow-drenched dragon, and each was rummaging through their packs for something to eat.
Though it was only things like jerky, dried fish, and biscuits.
Roberta glanced up at the Lord. He rarely ate. It wasn't that he didn't eat at all. But compared to her or the others, he barely swallowed anything, as if just going through the motions.
At most, he would boil a snowball to drink Songhwacha. When she found this strange and asked, he had said, 'This is enough for me.'
If she had eaten like that, her cheeks would have become hollow in a matter of days, but he showed no change at all. She watched him, wondering if he would only drink Songhwacha again today.
" Rest.
"Are you going out?" Bailen asked.
"Our provisions are poor, so I should go catch something. There are a fair number of edible things around here, so I'll go take a look.
As Bailen stood, saying he would accompany him, Roberta also rose. But Ulrich raised a hand to stop Roberta. Wondering who would drink if she came along too, she watched him.
"Rest.
"Are you going out?" Bailen asked.
"Our provisions are poor, so I should go catch something. There are a fair number of edible things around here, so I'll go take a look.
As Bailen stood, saying he would accompany him, Roberta also rose. But Ulrich raised a hand to stop Roberta, asking who would remain to look after the party if she came along.
"Roberta. You stay and look after them.
Fatigue was evident on everyone's faces. They must have been utterly exhausted from walking through the blizzard for days. A few were showing signs of frostbite and needed immediate attention.
She knew basic healing magic, so frostbite or minor injuries were no problem for her.
After the two men left, while she was tending to the party, she suddenly asked Count Bellido.
"Count. Do you remember the story from the day before yesterday?"
The Count tilted his head, "The day before yesterday?" then exclaimed, "Ah." Two days ago, just like today, the two men had left, and Roberta had shared various stories with the Count.
At that time, she had learned that the Count and the other vassals had each received some grace from the Duke, and had joined the journey to repay it.
But that wasn't the story she was asking about now. After their stories had ended, Roberta had asked.
- Banares, what kind of person was he?
The King of the Carbonihar Kingdom, Banares.
He was a man with the title of Great King, but she had never heard his name before. It was understandable. It had only been a few generations since the Carbonihar Kingdom began to make its name widely known on the continent.
According to the Count, Great King Banares was the man who had effectively founded the Carbonihar Kingdom. Before him, Carbonihar was merely a small nation, and because they effectively yearned
"What the Priestess is curious about is the relationship between Great King Banares and the Duke of Dithmarschen. That's it, isn't it? Am I right?"
Roberta replied that he was.
Duke Bailen wasn't the only person whose attitude had changed after Ulrich revealed his name. The Count and all the other vassals treated Ulrich with deference.
From her perspective, the change in their attitude wasn't because of their lord, Duke Bailen. It seemed to stem from their own volition, regardless of the Duke. Why?
What meaning did the names Ulrich—no, Lorang—and the others he had listed hold?
"Before ascending the throne, Great King Banares faced four crises. And each time he had to flee, moving from country to country, a certain traveler helped him."
Count Bellido continued, saying that it was a history known by everyone in Carbonihar, often adapted into plays and passed down.
"Four crises, four travelers, the benefactors the Great King wished to meet again before he died. To us, their names have only been passed down as pseudonyms for the plays, and until now, we believed those travelers were all different people."
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