Month 13 (1)

The long funeral service, which somehow still felt too short, finally came to an end.

The bodies of the warriors that could be recovered were laid to rest in the forest according to tribal tradition, and for those whose remains could not be found, a memorial was erected with their names gathered together.

As for the humans, we followed human customs.

We dug deep into the ground, buried them, and erected tombstones above.

“Will this really be alright?” someone muttered. “If he’s buried here, on barbarian land…”

I had quietly worried about that, but to my surprise, James Carla’s family wished for him to be buried here. Something about there being no other place to lay him to rest in Raphdonia anyway.

Only nobles wealthy enough to secure a burial plot in Gnometree were laid to rest there, while ordinary people were typically cremated and their ashes kept at home.

“Besides, I think he would have preferred to rest beside his allies. He was a man who knew nothing but work…”

“…I don’t think so. Even when he was drinking, he was the kind of man who would head home, saying his family was waiting and he couldn’t stay.”

“I see… so that’s how it was. My brother…”

Watching James Carla’s younger sister looking at the grave while tearing up, I thought to myself:

Why is it that sincerity is always delivered too late?

Is it a human trait to be unable to realize things until something is lost?

I didn’t know the answer, but I slowly turned my head.

Versil Gowland.

Her grave was laid beside James Carla’s, and the tombstone recorded her birth date and the date of her recent passing. But unlike Carla, whose resting place was surrounded by relatives both close and distant, not a single family member stood by hers.

And I knew exactly why. After all, she and I had once been allies.

[The reason I cut off contact with my family? No real reason. They simply got in the way of my work as an explorer.]

She had said that, but I knew there was another reason.

The Gowland family wasn’t her real family.

She didn’t fear being exposed as an evil spirit, but it must have been unbearable to pretend to be a daughter in a body she had stolen.

[So I said harsh words and cut them off. Even so, I still chose to cover their taxes afterward. I don’t regret it. It’s not a lot of money anyway.]

…I should look into it once this is all over.

To make sure Versil’s assets are properly transferred to her bereaved family.

 

Versyl’s wealth should be passed on to her family. The clan wasn’t in any financial trouble, and from a legal standpoint, it was only right for the next of kin to inherit the possessions of the deceased.

As I stood there, lost in thought while looking at her grave, Sven Parav, standing beside me, quietly murmured:

“…May you be guided to the place you longed for…”

It was a simple prayer for the dead, but I understood what he truly meant by it, and I shared the same sentiment. After all, we both knew where they had really come from.

And I felt the same way.

Fwooooo—

But seriously… has this guy become some kind of saint? Even though he was only speaking, his voice carried a strange authority, as if divine power were woven into his words. It didn’t even feel like he was using a skill, and yet whenever he prayed with genuine sincerity like now, a faint white glow would flow from him.

I shifted my gaze beyond Gowland’s grave to Rotmiller’s resting place.

The dwarf sat drinking in front of it, while Misha quietly sniffled, her fists clenched tight as she struggled to hold back her anger.

Shabin Emure stood a short distance away, staring blankly at the gravestone. Under normal circumstances, I would have given her time to process her emotions alone, but remembering what Rotmiller had said, I slowly approached her.

Even when I stood beside her, Shabin said nothing.

So I simply stood there in silence as well.

It was only after a long while that she finally spoke.

“…Mr. Jandel… would it be strange if I cried here?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Mr. Rotmiller and I weren’t anything… not really.”

Ah. So that’s what she meant.

Come to think of it, their relationship had ended before it ever truly had the chance to begin.

“I’m envious. Of Ms. Karlstein, or Mr. Hikurod… they used to be on a team with him. They can cry openly, whenever and however they want to… but I—”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

I cut Shavin off.

To be honest, I had been hesitating whether to tell her what Rotmiller had said before he died.

But at this point, it was better to just say it.

“…Rotmiller said it himself. Before he died, he asked me to pass it on.”

“…He didn’t ask Misha, or the dwarf, or anyone else. He asked me… to tell you.”

The moment I finished speaking, Shabin bit her lips tightly.

She looked like she was desperately trying to hold back her emotions.

“…But…”

What “but”? I let out a sigh and grabbed Shabin’s shoulder.

“What does it matter if you didn’t have ‘that kind’ of relationship yet?”

“Just cry if you’re sad, and laugh if you’re happy. You are a member of our tribe now.”

“May I… really do that…?”

At Shabin’s question, I gave a quiet nod, and only then did Shabin begin to sob. As time passed, the trembling of her shoulders only grew more intense.

I shoved my hands into my pockets and clenched my fists.

Grip—

No matter how many times I experience this, I never get used to it.

****

After the funeral ended, I visited the royal palace to speak with Astarotta once more. It was to discuss the treatment of Ragna and Eltora, who were under house arrest.

However…

“I cannot release either of them. Not yet.”

“And why is that?”

“The treatment of Countess Phefroc is a matter for His Majesty alone to decide.”

“You think I don’t know that? I’m just saying I’ll take responsibility for them until then.”

“Impossible.”

“And the reason?”

“Why should royal affairs require justification?”

…Damn, he’s sharp at times like this.

Anyway, if that’s the case, rescuing Ragna would have to be postponed.

“Then why can’t I take Eltora?”

“He is the son of a traitor. If I grant that request immediately, things might get unnecessarily complicated. But don’t worry. There’s no doubt he achieved military merit, so I will do my best to ensure he keeps his head, just as you promised him.”

‘Well then, I suppose that’s it. I’ve done everything I can, so the rest is up to him now.’

To be honest, I didn’t have much interest in Eltora’s life or death, so I didn’t push the issue obsessively.

“Then I can at least see Ragna before I go, right?”

“There’s no reason you can’t… though it won’t mean much. She hasn’t woken up yet.”

“…Still?”

“Yes. Still. Do you want to see her?”

“After we finish talking.”

“Seems like you have a lot to discuss.”

“Well, given the situation…”

Astarotta smirked and refilled our teacups.

But knowing his personality, I decided to ask the most important thing first.

“The Labyrinth… are you going to open it?”

“Why are you asking me that? That’ll be decided by the next appointed chancellor.”

“Don’t play games.”

“…I can’t give an exact time, but it will reopen soon. We haven’t been able to obtain mana stones for nearly a year. We’re reaching our limits.”

“And what about Noark? They’ll dive right back in too. Got a plan?”

“A farmer doesn’t stop farming just because he fears pests.”

“…So no plan.”

“Isn’t that a matter for the working-level officials to handle?” he said dismissively. Then, noticing the look I gave him, he let out a sigh and added, “They might ban entry for those below a certain rank or without ties to the military. Those countermeasures are also being discussed at the Palatial Meetings.”

“Ah. But why didn’t you come last time? If you were that curious, it would have been better to just show up.”

“I had some things to organize.”

Even as I brushed it off with a vague excuse, I felt it was a bit absurd.

He obviously knows exactly where I was and what I was doing, yet he is still asking that. He is a weird guy…

“I’ll give you one piece of advice, Bjorn Jandel.”

I flinched as I watched his expression suddenly harden. Did he just read my mind or something?

However, after hearing what he told me next, I realized I didn’t need to worry about him being a mind reader.

Not that I understood what he meant, though.

“It will soon be the thirteenth month. By decree of His Majesty, that month always brings a grand festival, and given the times we’re in, we need it now more than ever.”

Oh, I never knew that.

“And? So what?”

When I looked at him as if to ask, ‘So what?’, Astarotta gave me a strange look and put down his tea. Then,

“For the time being, just rest.”

What is this?

Is he… worried about me?

That would be truly strange.

“I’m already resting.”

“Running to the palace immediately after a funeral to dig for information from me is ‘resting’?” he shot back immediately. He continued “I’ll inform you of any new intel we obtain about the labyrinth or the war. Until then… you need to rest, Bjorn Jandel.”

I didn’t know what to say.

Not because I couldn’t find any arguments to counter him, but because it felt so awkward that he was suddenly acting like this.

When I remained silent, still at a loss for words, he downed the steaming tea in one gulp, seemingly just as embarrassed.

 

“That’s enough talk. You may leave. If you’re looking for Countess Peprok, ask the guards up ahead—they’ll show you the way.”

“Understood.”

…Still, he’s definitely changed compared to when I first met him.

Once my conversation with Astarotta ended, I went to see Ragna. Just as I’d been told, she was still asleep. I took the opportunity to speak with Hyeon-byeol about a few matters before heading out.

Oh, and Eltora showed up midway, whining and complaining about how long he’d be stuck here, but that wasn’t really important.

Rest, huh.

Even as I left the palace and made my way back to the sanctuary, I kept thinking about it.

Was I really allowed to rest?

With Lee Baek-ho suddenly declaring himself the protagonist, Noark forces digging in right next door, and no telling when the king might decide to make a move on Reina or me?

…No way.

In truth, after returning to the sanctuary, I spent my time doing anything but resting. In short…

I visited Melbes, the nonhuman noble alliance, to see whether they had gathered any new intelligence.

I attended the royal meetings to gauge the political situation.

I also met with influential nobles like Count Alminas to maintain connections, and I also met with Sven Parav to discuss the new abilities he had acquired.

I even had a drinking session with Mr. Bear after a long time.

I somehow made time to faithfully fulfill my duties as tribal chief.

To be honest, most of this had been handled by Shabin Emure until now, but I wanted her to rest for a while.

I could handle the work.

‘The schedule is definitely tight…!’

As I busied myself with such a packed schedule, time flew by.

Surprisingly, though, neither my body nor my mind felt exhausted.

This barbarian body of mine isn’t the kind to tire from menial work. Besides, keeping myself busy is easier on the mind, since it leaves less room for other thoughts to creep in.

Amelia and other people around me wanted me to take a break like Astarotta had suggested, but I kept dodging the topic or politely refusing. Eventually, though, I ran out of excuses.

“Jandel.”

 

Late at night, while I was squeezing in time to handle my duties as tribe chief, Amelia suddenly threw open the tent and walked in.

“You do know the festival starts tomorrow morning, right?”

“Of course. That’s why I’m busy right now. Our warriors have been through a lot, so shouldn’t we let them enjoy themselves this time?”

“But what about you?” Amelia asked.

“Oh, my schedule tomorrow? After the tribal festival wraps up, I’ll need to stop by the imperial capital in the evening for a bit. It seems Count Alminus is hosting some event, and he said he’d make a generous donation to our clan if I attended—”

“That’s enough.”

Amelia cut me off mid-sentence and said something abruptly.

I tilted my head, confused—then realized what she meant.

“Tomorrow morning at 9. Wear that outfit and come out here.”

“…What? Didn’t I just say I’ve got things to do tomorrow?”

“The choice is yours.”

“…What?”

“If you don’t come…”

“I’ll leave this clan.”

…What?
So it wasn’t even my choice?

 

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