Chapter 208 - When Rising Again (1)

In his office in Sturma, Peter Bayezid was quietly gazing at the man standing before him.

Judging by the still-wet ink on the pen set aside next to him, the man seemed to be an unexpected guest who had visited at an unappointed time.

"If you wanted to speak with me, you should have made an appointment beforehand. Age."

"The matter was urgent. It was also news that needed to be delivered immediately."

A man dressed in roughly tanned animal hides, adorned with colorful braided ribbons tied throughout his hair.

Age of the Budaat Tribe wore a stiff expression without even brushing off the snow that had settled on his shoulders.

"Very well. Speak."

As the son of a chieftain, Age was certainly someone who fell short in standing to converse with Peter, the Family Head of Bayezid.

However, since Peter had noticed the seriousness of Age's expression, he decided to overlook the trivial details.

"It seems we won't be able to endure this winter. Not just our tribe, but the other tribes as well."

"Why is that?"

It was a common occurrence for the barbarians to struggle during the winter when food was scarce.

Their inherent habit of pillaging also stemmed from this very reason.

However, Age had not come merely to deliver the message that they were struggling to hold out because they ran out of food.

"Monsters are running rampant."

"Wasn't that always the case in winter?"

"And the dragons too. The dragons you people call Lindworms."

Beyond the snowfields of the North, from a land beyond human reach, dragons were crossing over along with the monsters.

Just as Peter had said, it was an annual occurrence, but this time their numbers were far greater, and it was a quantity that the barbarians, whose power had been weakened by the Dragon Slaying Knights, could hardly handle.

"Dragons? Like before?"

"It's worse. Unlike back then, this time it isn't just one."

Peter's eyebrows twitched at Age's words that there wasn't just one dragon.

They might have been influenced when the piece of Ravnoma moved, but under the current circumstances, there was absolutely no reason for the dragons to run rampant simultaneously.

"Is this news certain?"

"Contact with two tribes has already been lost. They were the ones settled at the northernmost point."

According to Age's words, the barbarians were currently moving south, unable to overcome the pressure from the violent dragons and monsters.

And this would not be welcome news for Bayezid either.

"It is impossible for us to dispatch troops to help you right now. We have to prepare for war."

"Then at least take in the refugees. I ask that they be allowed inside your walls."

"I have no reason to go that far for you."

The refusal he spat out was cold and resolute.

The pact made between the northern lords and the barbarians was solid, but it was strictly meant as a mutual respect for the territories they held, and there was absolutely no agreement regarding actively stepping forward to help with something like this.

"The land inside the walls is narrow, and there is a lack of food to feed my own people. The help you want already exceeds the terms of our pact."

"..."

"You may go now. Do not forget my consideration in tolerating your rudeness."

Watching Peter pick up his pen again as if he had nothing more to say, Age bit his lip hard.

There was nothing wrong with his statement that he could not provide help, but even so, there was nothing he could do about the resentment boiling up in his chest.

"We conceded many things, but in the end, it has become the same. It is no different from how it was before."

"..."

"Our loosened pact will eventually shatter. The children of the next generation will end up aiming at each other again, just as we did."

There had been a man who told him not to do that anymore.

A man who had said they should set aside the hatred they had accumulated layer by layer and join hands for the sake of the next generation.

It was the man who had said that in order to do so, they must swallow a poison that was hard for them to drink right now.

"If it were Joseph Bayezid, he would have told us to come in. Because he was the kind of person who did exactly that even in the back alleys of Soara."

"... Stop."

"Now there is no one left in the North who will reach out their hand to others first. It is winter once again!"

"I told you to stop!"

BANG!

With the loud noise, a heavy silence fell upon the office.

However, Peter's bloodshot eyes glaring at Age remained wide open.

"... I had thought that maybe he could do it. Although it turned out to be a delusion in the end."

Looking at the disheveled Peter, Age slowly backed away and left the office.

Because he intuitively sensed that he would no longer be able to get through to him.

Unlike before, he had sought out Bayezid, who viewed them as fellow humans, but in the end, all he walked away with was the cold boundary line drawn between their worlds.

"..."

Even after Age had left, Peter remained standing for a long time with his fists clenched tightly.

He had spent his entire life trying not to waver, but this time, it was difficult to calm his emotions easily.

Having seen the unfulfilled traces left behind by his pitiful son, Peter felt that, just for today, he had no choice but to seek out strong liquor.

* * *

The workers moved busily, clearing away the piles of rubble as if to erase the nightmare of the previous night.

Yet despite their efforts, the bloodstains splattered everywhere remained, and the sight of the half-collapsed mansion was simply devastated.

Standing before that sight, Pablo, with a heavily dented shield slung over his back, quietly looked up at the window of the mansion that had not yet collapsed.

"He still hasn't woken up."

"It's a miracle he's even breathing in the first place. His chest was completely pierced through."

Unlike the soft-looking bed, it was a room with cracks all over its walls.

That shabby state resembled Vlad lying on the bed right now, seemingly adding an unnecessary sense of sorrow.

"They say even the devil's luck is a kind of luck. I really didn't think he would survive."

"For someone who says that, you were treating him quite diligently."

"... That's because I swore before God that I would do so in front of the sick!"

Though it was Bishop Pierre who yelled out, unable to hold back his surging anger, the care he had shown Vlad during that urgent moment had been sincere.

Even though he could not use healing magic because he was a former inquisitor, if not for his skillful treatment, Vlad might have been lying in a coffin by now.

"Still, I hope he wakes up soon. The way the servants look at us these days is quite unusual."

"Hmm. That truly can't be helped."

Arnstein's nearly half-destroyed mansion was like a deep scar left on the city of Valletta.

The broken flags and collapsed walls, as well as the knights and soldiers who had died during the attack back then, were damage that would only heal after a long time and a costly loss.

And the fact that Joseph's betrayal lay at the center of all these events was gradually making the party, who had yet to leave the mansion, uncomfortable.

"But did you really not notice any signs? I heard you traveled with him all this time."

"Not at all. At least regarding the mystery, I dare say there was nothing."

If it had been the words of an ordinary beastman, he wouldn't have believed it.

However, having spent time with Nibelun, Bishop Pierre well knew that he lacked the wits to tell a lie just as much as he lacked common sense.

"To be fair, he was an incredibly smart guy. To the point of being considered one of the best in the North."

Bishop Pierre softly scratched his chin as he recalled Joseph, who had opposed him.

The second son of Bayezid, whose resourcefulness was so great that he managed to push out Bishop Pierre, who had established himself in Soara for a long time.

Being that kind of person, he could have easily deceived a stupid cat and a fledgling dragon as much as he wanted.

"... I suppose he truly was an exceptional guy. That bastard, too."

However, even such an outstanding talent ultimately succumbed to a dark temptation, so the affairs of the world were indeed completely unpredictable.

"Where are you going?"

"Why? Do I have to report to you every time I go somewhere?"

"That's not what I meant, but..."

He had asked to stay together because he felt self-conscious being alone, but all that returned was the eccentric vitriol typical of an old man.

Grabbing and turning the creaking doorknob to step out into the hallway alone, Bishop Pierre finally let out a deep sigh and muttered to himself.

"To think I would end up waiting on dragons in my old age."

From the unconscious Vlad to the now fully aged Radu.

Walking down the hallway after stepping out of the room, Bishop Pierre began to walk hurriedly, lamenting how his life had ended up like this.

In this mansion filled entirely with uncomfortable glares, Bishop Pierre was the only one stepping up for the sons of Dragulia, who had no one else to take care of them.

* * *

It was a scene of autumn.

A scene where the wheat fields visible below were filled with a bountiful golden hue, and the hill where he sat was filled with fluttering autumn leaves.

The sight of the Mother World Tree seen within Quijano's world was a scene that would make anyone smile, but Vlad merely sat there in melancholy.

"Why did he leave like that?"

["Only he would know that."]

It was a quiet hill where only the sound of the wind could be heard, but Vlad was not sitting there alone.

Though his face remained unseen, a man with brown hair was sitting right next to Vlad.

["It is inherently near impossible to completely understand an existence other than oneself. That is what a meeting between worlds is like."]

"..."

At Quijano's words, Vlad buried his face in his knees.

He knew it was meant to comfort him, but last night's parting had been far too horrific for those words to offer any solace.

Burying his head deeply as if he didn't want to see anything, Vlad could only blame himself for knowing nothing until things reached this point, and he merely resented Joseph for not saying a single word all this time.

"I'm exhausted now. No matter what I do, there is no end to it. I can't rest."

["... I understand."]

The wish that had looked up and dreamed of the stars had been youthful and pure, but there was nothing eternal in this world.

Vlad grew more exhausted with every step he climbed, and a part of Vlad's soul was chipped away each time he struck someone down.

And now that he had even lost the person he trusted, it was only natural for Vlad's head to droop in sorrow.

["Rest if you want to rest. Run away if you want to run. No one can force you to do anything."]

Quijano did not pressure Vlad in such a state.

He simply told him to rest however he pleased before leaving.

Quijano was embracing Vlad, who had fled into his world because it was too overwhelming to even look at his own.

"... Is it really okay for me to do that?"

["Of course."]

Patting Vlad's back, Quijano looked toward the twilight visible in the distance and spoke.

["You may do so as much as you like."]

The red autumn leaves fluttering in the midst of the autumn scenery.

The twilight seen today beneath the now-vanished Mother World Tree still remained in that place even after time had passed.

["Because all you have to do is rise again whenever you're ready."]

Your young and youthful time is still flowing appropriately.

Unlike my time, which can neither be turned back nor skipped.

Since your time is flowing and can take you anywhere, even this moment of hesitation will not simply pass by in vain.

"... The sound of the wind is nice."

["It is a sound you can only hear when your surroundings grow quiet."]

Beneath the bright red maple tree, Quijano and Vlad sat in the same spot for a long time just like that.

In this place filled only with the blowing wind, there was no Joseph who had betrayed him, nor the Frausen who had pierced him, but only Quijano who waited quietly for him.