Chapter 35

The old man, who had been dazed for a moment, came to his senses and took off his robe.

When he did, the face he had been hiding was revealed.

Blue markings densely covered his face, and a feathered ornament adorned his head.

The old man placed a hand over his chest and bowed respectfully.

“My name is Arandel. I am a descendant of the Blue Mane clan.”

“I’ve heard of you.”

Hamel was slightly surprised and nodded.

They were a druid clan.

They were one of the small peoples who had made their mark when the age of myth waned and the age of men began.

The first emperor was famed for honoring such clans and granting them autonomous rights.

“It is an honor to meet such an honorable clan.”

“The honor is mine. I was surprised to have the lord come so suddenly, though.”

Arandel laughed heartily, then gestured for Hamel and his companions to follow.

“Come with me. Since you bested us by skill, we must yield this place to you.”

“Thank you.”

Hamel thanked him politely.

Even from the strong aura Arandel gave off, he was clearly no one to be trifled with.

Had it been before, he might not have known, but since using the dragon’s blood power last time, he had become more sensitive to the flow of mana.

‘He is a considerable strength.’

If Arandel had taken the field, Hamel would not have been able to win easily.

It was simply easier because Arandel had decided to speak with Hamel.

Meanwhile, Benjamin, who could have no way of knowing this, stroked his monocle in admiration.

“The more I see, the more amazed I am. I heard you were an Exorcist priest, but to handle those who even our guild’s best couldn’t so simply…”

“I was just lucky.”

Hamel shook his head in reply.

Benjamin still nodded vigorously, clearly impressed.

“To hide swordsmanship superior even to a knight—quite admirable for a businessman to emulate.”

Hamel almost added something to correct the misunderstanding but gave up.

Anything he said would only grow the misunderstanding.

As they followed Arandel and talked, a small village with a palisade came into view in the forest.

“This is our clan’s village. Come in.”

When they entered, hundreds of eyes turned to them.

“Outsiders?”

“Why are those people here…”

“What was the chieftain thinking…”

Those stares were piercing.

They were looks of distrust, wariness, and fear.

But neither Hamel nor Benjamin flinched.

Both were quite used to such looks.

“Let’s talk here.”

An elder led them to a large tent in the center of the village.

Inside, seats were arranged in a circle around a brazier.

Arandel sat opposite Hamel instead of taking the chieftain’s seat and spoke.

“So, what brings you here?”

“It’s about a transaction with Lord Sorn.”

“…I see.”

At the mention of the lord, Arandel’s face hardened.

That confirmed to Hamel that there was conflict between the two groups.

“He wants the Blue Mane clan to open the road we’re occupying and withdraw.”

“I know.”

Arandel nervously tapped his fingers.

“But this is our land. Where exactly are we supposed to retreat to? We’ve yielded before, and what we received in return was scorn and contempt. Didn’t you see it on the way here?”

“….”

Hamel nodded.

It was easy to see.

The forest that had been logged, cleared, and laid waste.

The forest and nature were the druids’ home and akin to the god they worshipped.

‘This place, the Rosel Forest, was their domain.’

If so, their conflict was almost inevitable.

“Negotiations with the lord…”

“We tried many times. They always promised one thing, and the next day hundreds of trees were felled.”

Hamel thought of Viscount Ramsey.

That slick, greedy man was more than capable of it.

‘Perhaps what the viscount is after is…’

Hamel set aside the hypothesis for a moment and spoke to Arandel.

“If things go on like this, you’ll have no choice but to clash head-on with the lord.”

“We’re prepared. We have reasons we can no longer withdraw.”

Hamel tilted his head.

From Arandel’s attitude, it didn’t seem like a simple territorial dispute.

“What are those reasons?”

“….”

Arandel looked at Hamel with a momentarily complicated expression.

After a moment he opened his mouth and asked.

“You said you’re a priest. Which god do you serve?”

It was a sudden question, but Hamel answered calmly.

“I serve all the benevolent gods. Among them, I follow the path of the god of cycles, Ehuurshika.”

“I see.”

Arandel nodded.

Then he asked Hamel again.

“Then if that god were dying, what would you do?”

“….”

Hamel was taken aback.

Scriptures do say gods meet death when the end approaches, but that’s metaphorical.

Gods are supposed to be eternal, immortal beings.

Still, Hamel set those notions aside and imagined.

The answer was simple.

“I would try to save them.”

It was only natural.

His god was both whom he served and his course to follow.

For Hamel, Ehuurshika’s will and words were justice and conviction.

He was not the only one.

No priest could stand idly by while their god was dying.

Arandel gave a wry smile at Hamel’s answer.

“That would be right. We feel the same. We cannot watch our god die any longer.”

“…?”

Seeing Hamel’s puzzlement, Arandel stood.

“Come with me. Seeing is worth more than a hundred questions.”

And shortly after.

They walked into the forest behind the village and a clearing appeared before them.

A clearing bathed in light.

In the center stood a massive creature with blue fur.

The creature drew a laboring breath.

Khaak

It opened its eyes, revealing an overwhelming presence.

Through a slightly parted mouth, sharp white fangs gleamed.

Demons of the mythic age called super-class.

Its presence was comparable to them.

“What is that?”

Hamel unconsciously placed a hand on his sword hilt and asked.

Arandel answered with a sorrowful expression.

“Do not speak like that. It is our god.”

Hamel paused and studied the creature.

The being blinked and closed its eyes again, showing no signs of hostility.

Looking closely, Hamel saw pus and discharge in its eyes.

Excited breaths escaped its open mouth, and blood-tinged saliva dripped from its gums.

Only then did Hamel relax and lower his hand.

Arandel, having confirmed Hamel, stepped forward to the god and knelt.

“Tarka—lord Tarka, a lord of the empire has come.”

Did it hear Arandel’s words?

Its ears pricked, and it slowly lifted its head.

A wolf so large it could swallow a small sheep in one bite looked down at Hamel with tired eyes.

As Hamel gazed at the wolf in awe, Arandel spoke.

“Greet him. He is the god the Blue Mane clan worships and the lord of this Rosel Forest, the azure wolf Tarka.”

“I pay respects to the lord of the forest.”

Hamel bowed his body toward the wolf.

Unlike demons, these were beings who, despite their massive power, sided with humans.

By the order’s doctrine, they were not gods.

However, because they aided the benevolent gods and worked for the world’s benefit, following and serving their will, they were venerated as Bodhisattvas—seekers—and regarded as the gods’ representatives.

[…Grrok.]

A growl escaped the wolf called Tarka.

As it slowly lifted its great body, leaves that had collected on it cascaded down.

The giant wolf stretched and let out a long howl.

Awooooooo!

It sent a shiver through the body and made hair on his body stand on end.

It was the roar of a predator that numbed the nerves.

‘The felt power is slight, but its presence does not pale even before Reteil, the Man-Faced Lion.’

If it were not in this state, he couldn’t even begin to guess how strong it had been.

As Hamel privately assessed that power and couldn’t help but click his tongue, Tarka lifted its head slightly, sniffed dryly, and fixed its gaze on Hamel.

[…You are a lord of the empire and a priest who serves Ehuurshika.]

“Yes.”

For a moment startled that Tarka could speak, Hamel reflexively answered and tilted his head.

Arandel must have introduced himself as a lord.

How would it know he served Ehuurshika?

But before Hamel’s question cleared, Tarka said something unbelievable.

[You are mixed. You serve a god and yet take that power for yourself, such a greedy one you are.]

“…!”

Hamel knew without being told what power it meant.

Dragon’s blood.

Tarka had recognized it at a glance.

“Do you know about this power?”

[Long ago I saw it often. Those called heroes of the mythic age were all unhinged, each and every one.]

Hamel was excited to hear of his condition from an unexpected source.

He hurriedly prepared the questions he wanted to ask.

Tarka spoke as if seeing straight through Hamel.

[You must wonder how to control and manage that power.]

“…Yes.”

A Dragonian’s life is a time-limited one, its intensity matched by the severe pain that comes with great power.

They say taking a dragon’s heart makes one whole, but that’s only legend.

No one has ever truly taken a dragon’s heart.

Skilled ones extended their lives with a dragon’s byproducts, but in the end they went mad and lost themselves, becoming monsters.

‘I’ve been suppressing the power by absorbing demons, but…’

How long this temporary measure will hold is uncertain.

He had to find another way if one existed.

Tarka, indifferent to Hamel’s hopeful look, answered coldly.

[I know nothing of that.]

“…I see.”

Hamel slowly nodded.

He was disappointed, but since the fortune had come easily, he wouldn’t let it get him down.

At that moment, Tarka’s eyes flashed.

[However.]

“…?”

Tarka leaned its head toward Hamel and spoke.

A rank smell of rotting flesh puffed out as Tarka opened its mouth.

[I could tell you how to handle that power.]

Hamel was unusually surprised and opened his eyes wide.

If he could learn to handle dragon’s power, it would greatly aid his journey.

“I want to learn.”

[Is that so?]

When Hamel nodded, Tarka gave a phlegmy rumble, probably a laugh.

It was likely a sound of amusement.

[But I will not teach for free. As you can see, my condition is such that I want some help.]

“Tell me.”

Pleased with the prompt answer, Tarka rumbled again and spoke.

[Something is sapping the forest’s vitality and eating at me. We forced the Blue Mane clan to halt logging, but that was only temporary.]

“So that’s why.”

Hamel looked at Arandel.

Arandel only nodded with a gloomy expression.

“We have suspicions, but we could not solve it with our power.”

Tarka studied Arandel briefly, then spoke to Hamel.

[If you help Arandel solve the problem, I’ll teach you how to handle the power, as promised.]

Hamel’s hesitation was brief.

If they solved what was destroying the forest, Tarka would regain its strength and the clan would lift their road occupation.

Then he could learn about the dragon’s power and also resolve the lord’s request.

Logging and the Blue Mane clan’s survival rights would remain issues, but sadly those were not matters Hamel could easily resolve.

“Very well.”

Hamel accepted Tarka’s request.

Hearing the answer, Tarka lowed a growl and, tired, lay down on the ground.

[…I should rest now.]

“It won’t take that long.”

[Grrok. You are a confident priest. It’s refreshing, I do not dislike this.]

Tarka chuckled and slowly closed its eyes.

[Go. I hope your confidence is not mere recklessness…]

With those words, Tarka drew its breath in and fell asleep.

Hamel turned his gaze to Arandel.

“It doesn’t look like there’s much time.”

“…Actually, if the lord, who is a priest, helps, it might surprisingly be easy.”

Arandel said that with bitterness.

Hamel stared at him instead of answering, and Arandel shrugged and replied.

“We druids borrow the forest’s vitality to perform our rites but cannot use Divine power. However, those strange traces found in the woods seem to be of that power.”

“You mean…”

Hamel asked back, feeling a sense of dread.

“Yes. There’s a faint divinity I can sense. A priest who can wield Divine power might know a solution.”

“….”

Hamel swallowed dryly instead of answering.

Who was he?

He had only just begun to understand mana.

He was originally a half-priest who couldn’t wield mana or Divine power.

That was Hamel.

‘…I should have brought Antonio.’

Antonio’s absence was keenly felt by him.

But what could he do?

If there are no teeth, you must use your gums.

Hamel sighed and replied.

“Show me.”

“That’s reassuring.”

As Arandel smiled brightly and nodded, a cold bead of sweat ran down Hamel’s back.