Chapter 111

Chapter 111
The evening feast proved far more enjoyable than Alon had anticipated.

Arranged amidst old stone ruins and a colossal tree beneath a canopy of stars and the shimmering band of the galaxy, the gathering possessed a natural beauty that required no adornment. Firstly, the cuisine was exquisite. And secondly, the food was absolutely superb!

“……It’s good,” Alon murmured, looking down at the morsel he had just sampled, his face showing a touch of astonishment. The meat, which had a deep, savory flavor with a note of delicate sweetness, reminded him of crab and suited his palate completely.

“Wow, this is amazing!” Evan, who was sitting close by, enthusiastically agreed.

“It is,” Alon concurred, which prompted a woman from the tribe, who was holding two children, to smile and speak up.

“Well! It’s an honor to hear such praise from our tribe’s hero. I prepared that dish myself.”

“Did you? It’s expertly crafted.”

“The credit belongs to the ingredient’s excellence.”

“What is it made from?”

“It’s made from Stormvi.”

Alon immediately stopped chewing.

“Storm…vi?”

“Yes.”

“Wait, you mean the Stormvi・・・・・・?”

“Yes, that very one.”

The confirmation made Alon want to spit out what was in his mouth. In this jungle, a “Stormvi” was a giant insect that looked much like a cockroach.

“I understand.”

“Oh dear, are you finished eating?”

“…I believe I may have had my fill for now,” Alon replied, carefully setting the piece of Stormvi meat aside and looking over at his companion. Evan, however, appeared to have taken it upon himself to consume every available piece of Stormvi at the feast, his face nearly buried in his plate.

Alon wavered, considering whether to comment, but in the end, he decided to stay quiet. Once more, he was struck by the notion that some things were better left unknown.

He made his excuses and went to sit near the ruins, looking up at the starry expanse. The Milky Way arching above was a magnificent sight, even outshining the moonlight that silvered the landscape below.

Then, a voice called to him.

“……Marquis Palatio.”

“Hm?” Alon turned to see Reinhardt walking toward him, having apparently regained some of his ability to move.

Reinhardt was also chewing on a piece of Stormvi meat, with an expression that suggested he was sincerely appreciating the flavor.

“Is it good?” Alon inquired.

“This? Yes, it’s quite tasty. It’s a flavor I’ve never experienced back in the kingdom.”

Naturally, he wouldn’t have. It would have been strange if such a dish were available there.

“By the way…… might I ask you something?” Reinhardt asked, scratching his head before he continued.

“Go on.”

“Are you familiar with the Hundred Ghosts?”

“The Hundred Ghosts? You mean the area in the north?”

“Correct.”

“I’ve heard of it, but that is the extent of my knowledge.”

“Just heard of it? No ties or anything of that sort?”

“Ties? Regrettably, this is my first visit to the jungle.”

After hearing Alon’s answer, Reinhardt seemed to accept it, nodding slowly.

“I see.”

“Why do you ask?”

“It’s nothing. Just a minor point of confusion on my end.”

Having said that, Reinhardt turned to leave, having clearly shared all he wished to. His tendency to make obscure statements and then depart without further clarification was typical of him, so Alon simply acknowledged it with a nod.

Watching Reinhardt walk away while still eating the Stormvi meat, Alon felt a slight sense of unease. It wasn’t that it turned his stomach, but the sight was somewhat disconcerting.

Later, when his appetite had returned, Alon went back to the feast to find something else to eat. As he arrived, he noticed a crowd forming in one spot and moved to see what was happening.

“Yes, the Marquis held his position before the great god without yielding an inch. He even climbed onto it and thrust a spear into its head.”

“Ohhh……”

Alon realized that Deus, wearing an uncharacteristically grave expression, was narrating the recent fight with Basiliora to the assembled members of the Thunder Serpent tribe.

“The Marquis looked down upon the fallen god—or more accurately, the beast—with eyes that showed no feeling, as if it were the expected outcome. Not a trace of emotion could be detected.”

“Ohhh~”

As the tribespeople reacted with wonder to each of Deus’s statements, Alon felt a creeping sense of awkward embarrassment.

It wasn’t that he minded being recognized. But hearing his own actions woven into a grand tale and recited before a captivated audience was something his pride wasn’t quite robust enough to handle comfortably.

Still, not wanting to disrupt the story that everyone was so clearly enjoying, he started to retreat from the gathering.

“But the beast repeatedly climbed the altar again and again to kill the Marquis. Yet, not a single one of its assaults found their mark. Each time, it was beaten back by the Marquis’s magic.”

“?”

Alon felt the account was drifting from what had actually occurred.

He wanted to object—you were the one who handled Basiliora, weren’t you?—but he stopped himself.

“At that moment, Marquis Palatio looked upon the serpent coiled around the altar and called forth a brilliant radiance that tore through the ashen heavens. The vision of him then—”

Deus’s embellishments grew more and more lavish, until they started to sound like passages from a holy text. Alon couldn’t help but view him with a degree of suspicion.

If Deus had simply recounted the facts, Alon would not have been bothered. But the inflated and almost bragging tone felt like he was being made fun of under the pretense of a comrade enhancing a story for effect.

‘Is he deliberately doing this to tease me…..?’

Above, the Milky Way glimmered in the night sky.

***

The next day, Alon made the decision to depart from the Thunder Serpent tribe.

With Reinhardt and Deus now fully healed, there was no further reason to remain.

“I hope we have the pleasure of meeting you again, honored guest,” the tribe leader said, bowing respectfully.

“I will also anticipate that day,” Alon answered with a courteous nod.

“Should you ever require aid, please do not hesitate to call for us.”

“I will remember.”

“I’ll come to help too, for sure!” Syrkal exclaimed, joining in with her younger sibling.

“Thank you.”

After saying their goodbyes, Alon and his companions set off in the early morning.

By noon, they had returned to their camp, eaten a swift meal, and continued their journey, arriving at Alon’s estate before darkness fell.

“Wow, this is the feel of civilization!” Evan declared happily.

Alon, standing next to him, felt the same.

Even though the estate was on the jungle’s edge, the ambiance was wholly distinct. In the jungle, the heavy dampness stuck to their clothes, making it intolerable, but here, it was far more manageable.

‘I should try to stay out of the jungle as much as possible from now on,’ Alon thought, relishing the comfort of a peaceful night’s rest after such a long time.

***

The following day, Alon stood before Caslot, preparing to say goodbye to Deus.

While Alon was traveling east toward the Kingdom of Asteria, Deus needed to go west, to where Caliban was waiting for him.

“Well then, until we meet again,” Alon said casually.

Deus bowed his head in reply, but then hesitated and asked abruptly, “Marquis.”

“Yes?”

“Have I become stronger?”

The sudden question made Alon pause to consider before he gave a nod.

“Yes, that is plain for anyone to see. You have grown consistently more powerful.”

In reality, Deus had probably achieved the rank of a Grand Swordmaster.

“Is that so? I am glad to hear it,” Deus responded, a slight smile appearing on his face—the first one Alon had witnessed on this journey.

Why is he so relieved?

Mulling this over, Alon said his farewells to Deus and they went their separate ways at Caslot.

“Shall we go to Terea now?”

“Yes. Although I would prefer to visit the Marquisate first, I must deliver my report. And…”

Speaking quietly to himself, Alon thought of Cretinia Siyan.

As the carriage started its trip toward Terea, Alon’s mind was occupied with thoughts of what lay ahead for him there.

At the time Alon was traveling to Terea

Inside the central temple tent of the Thunder Serpent tribe:

“What is it, Chief?”

Syrkal, as quick as always, entered the tent in answer to the wise Ashgul’s call, tilting her head in question.

“Syrkal.”

“Yes, Chief.”

“Can you remember and tell me the words spoken by the honored guest?”

At the chief’s request, Syrkal nodded with assurance.

“‘I will come to the shallow place beneath the sky. Welcome the dawn with joy, as I will greet it with you.’ That is what he said, as I told you previously. But why are you asking about this now?”

The chief, who had been studying a scroll, lifted his gaze.

“Syrkal, as you are aware, our Thunder Serpent tribe shares sacred words only with those who have won our gratitude. It allows the honored guest to call upon our assistance whenever it is needed.”

“Yes, I know that. And the particular sacred words differ based on the scale of the favor received. Also, to prevent disclosure, different introductory phrases are used,” Syrkal answered.

The chief nodded in confirmation.

“Precisely. What the majority of our tribe knows is only the phrase, ‘Welcome the dawn with joy.’ The exact sacred words we entrusted to the honored guest are documented only in this scroll.”

Chief Ashgul passed the scroll to Syrkal.

“Look at it.”

“Huh? But I—”

“You have now completed all the necessary preparations to bear the restrictions of a future chief. Do not be concerned.”

“Ah…”

With a soft sound of understanding, Syrkal accepted the scroll with some hesitation.

“Check it. Confirm whether the sacred words match those the guest uttered.”

Following the chief’s direction, she carefully unrolled the parchment. As she read through the ancient text—which only the chief was ordinarily permitted to read—her eyes fell on the opening line.

And she caught her breath.

The very first line contained more than just the sacred words the honored guest had spoken.

Beside those words, a name was written.

“Bearer of Lightning, Kalannon…………..?”

Unthinkingly, Syrkal spoke the name aloud. It was a title she was deeply familiar with.

No, it was impossible for her not to know it.

The Bearer of Lightning, Kalannon was the guardian deity who had first defended the Thunder Serpent tribe.

Lifting her head quickly, she asked, “Chief, does this mean…?”

“Yes,” the chief affirmed.

“…But to consider him a deity just because of the sacred words…” Syrkal started to express her skepticism.

Ashgul gave a soft laugh.

“Yes, that is correct. Even if we change the sacred words, we cannot be certain they will not be revealed.”

“Then why—”

“But those specific sacred words are ones that no one else could possibly know.”

“…Why?”

“Think carefully, Syrkal. Remember the tales of Kalannon you have heard since you were young—the ones recorded as undeniable truths on the divine tablets that have been handed down from ancient times.”

The divine tablets.

Syrkal’s thoughts went to the ancient artifacts that had been with the Thunder Serpent tribe since time began—tablets that, though no one wrote on them, would inscribe the tribe’s history every ten years.

“…Ah.”

A quiet gasp left her lips.

The story of the Bearer of Lightning, Kalannon that she had read on the divine tablets recounted how he had protected the Thunder Serpent tribe from the black scourge, ultimately perishing in the effort.

The tribe owed him a debt that could not be measured and had pledged the very first sacred words as a symbol of their everlasting bond.

Right after that, Kalannon truly closed his eyes for the last time.

Which meant:

The original sacred words, known only to Kalannon himself, could never have been revealed to anyone else…

“Exactly,” Ashgul stated. “And since only the chief is allowed to see this scroll, a restriction is enforced to ensure no one else can reveal the sacred words. Therefore, the only individual who could possibly know them—”

“—is the one who uttered them.”

The chief’s voice resonated softly within the tent.

Syrkal stood motionless, her mouth slightly open, deep in contemplation.