Book 15 Chapter 13

On the ruins of that day,

Fated Rival (2)

“Frida and Mina, those two children were ‘prison children’. They are one year apart with a six-month difference, and their mothers are different.”

At the end of his words, the surrounding vegetation rustled sadly, as if foretelling that a tragedy similar to the beginning awaited them at the end.

“Prison children?”

“It refers to children born to female heinous criminals imprisoned in the penitentiary. Both of their birth mothers had their sentences postponed due to childbirth, and were immediately executed after giving birth.”

“Then… what about the children?”

The old man, expertly walking ahead on the rugged mountain path, gave a bitter smile.

“Originally, children born in prison were entrusted to shrines at the foot of the mountain or orphanages. But the fool who was in charge of that duty brought the children back. The reason was that those newborns were too cold.”

Thick dark clouds hung around the peak where <Ikegrad> was built, and the mountains and rivers lay heavy in shades of ash.

“We petitioned the Witches to allow us to send these children down after winter passed, and the Witches eventually granted it. The children grew up by our side that way.”

“They grew, grew, grew.”

“But Frida was somehow strange, unlike Mina. From a young age, she would mutter to herself, try to grasp invisible things, or just laugh. The fool, who was like their father, recognized it immediately. Frida had been able to communicate with spirits since she was a newborn.”

It was a story that seemed to enter a tunnel within ruins somewhere. A moss-covered and overgrown entrance, beyond which lay only ruins.

“Kkyu-ung?”

As Sval tilted its head at the word 'spirit', Lista lovingly stroked its downy fur. The old man continued his story.

“From then on, that fool tried to memorize the incantations whenever the Witches chanted spells. We helped him too. But how brilliant five-year-old Frida was, she could use the same spells just by hearing the roughly copied incantations!”

“Wow, really?”

“The child's growth was a joy to all of us. But eventually, an incident occurred. Frida was caught by the Witches while teaching Mina spells. The Witches disapproved of a criminal's bloodline using the same sacred power as themselves.”

“Ah, I've heard that Witches can never be ordained if there's a criminal in their family.”

“The Witches tried to seal Frida and Mina's mouths so they couldn't use spells for life and banish them. They wouldn't listen even when all of us petitioned. That's when Priestess Alaza appeared.”

“Isn't that Frida's teacher's name?”

“Indeed. Lady Alaza, who came for an inspection at the time, even said that she saw an innovation in magic when she saw Frida. But Frida was so bold that instead of thanking Lady Alaza, she actually proposed a deal.”

“A deal? At that age?”

“'If you accept me as your disciple, I will become the greatest priestess, surpassing even you, and make your name shine. In return, please accept my sister as your disciple as well, and prevent the Witches from harming the residents of <Ikegrad>.'”

Lista couldn't help but laugh.

Thinking, 'That's so Frida.'

To have had such a temperament since childhood, truly…

“Frida and Mina thus became disciples of the priestess. Although there was much opposition, Lady Alaza, being of the first Witches' bloodline, the 'Blue Blood' of <Terbenopl>, had the connections to quell all of it. With Lady Alaza accepting both as disciples and adopted daughters, all the commotion was resolved.”

In the decay of the season, leaves that should have withered but did not, fluttered weakly like autumn foliage and fell. With a wind blowing from memories beyond the ages.

That wind was a wind of disconnection.

A wind of disconnection was also blowing through the story of memory. Its prelude could be glimpsed through the old man's choked voice.

“However, within a few months of Frida becoming an apprentice witch, the fool died going back and forth on the mountain path. Martin, who was like a father to them. It hadn't even been a month since he received a letter saying she would soon return as the youngest witch, and how excited he must have been by those words…”

“Ah…”

“Frida became a Witch by overcoming such sorrow, and caught the eye of the Fire Dragon Bell'dakhidun, learning Dragon Tongue under him. But then, during that training period, Lady Alaza went missing.”

Lista raised an eyebrow.

It was the story Frida had told when she joined. Hadn't she said it was about the culprit and accomplice of the <Ikegrad Prison> incident?

“From then on, Frida became morbidly obsessed with <Ikegrad>. She never strayed far from it, no matter what. She was afraid of people disappearing in her absence.”

“Of course she would be. You all raised Frida like your own daughter, didn't you?”

“We didn't ask for anything in return. And already, with that child's laughter… we've been rewarded countless times, so what more reward could we ask for?”

In that instant, Lista remembered her mother, who had hugged her and laughed while crying in front of a grave.

Lista, at least, was able to be present at her mother's deathbed. Although her body was weak and she departed early, although she had to be sent away early, Lista was able to be with her for her last moments.

But Frida… what must her feelings have been? Lista couldn't even begin to guess, and so she dropped her gaze.

“We don't want to bind Frida. It's the wish of all of us. Frida always wanted to go out into the world beyond this mountain valley since she was a child. She wanted to see the wide world, not just a place like this. Now, I wish she could go out into that world as much as she pleases…”

“I didn't know Frida… had such a painful past. She always seemed to laugh so cheerfully…”

“Frida, cheerfully…?”

The old man repeated those words several times, as if immensely pleased. As if recalling the smiles the child had shown as she grew up.

“Actually, I heard rumors that Frida had come to the foothills and came to warn her. But it was too late.”

“What kind of warning?”

“I came up here after the prison collapse incident. I saw the grave where Frida buried everyone. I cried for three days, erected a humble tombstone with stones, and returned to the village. But then strange rumors began to circulate. That <Ikegrad> was actually fine…”

At that moment, it was a passage that made Lista finally understand why Frida's eyes had turned so pale.

What on earth happened?

Didn't the village elder of the Freemen's settlement earlier say that it wasn't just a rumor, but that a witch herself came and even sent the young people up?

“Ah, damn it.”

Then Lyn, who had been listening to the story with a serious expression, pretending to be uninterested, irritably closed her book.

“How long do we have to stay here like this?”

“Lyn?”

“It seems better to just go quickly and finish it. I really don't know why we have to keep walking on a road like this.”

“There's no other way but this…”

As the old man opened his mouth to make an excuse, a magic circle brightly surged and rotated on Lyn's palm.

That light opened a new path.

The ground surged high, creating a ramp that connected directly to the distant peak.

‘Lyn…’

While the old man was flustered and Pipi and Sval were excited, Lista couldn't help but smile contentedly.

‘She meant, how long do we have to dally here when Frida has gone to such a dangerous place?’

That it was irritation caused by leaves constantly falling on her book was something she would never know.

* * *

Frida was confined in some space.

It was clearly connected to the world, yet isolated. Invisible walls blocked her on all sides, making escape impossible.

In this space, there was no sound. The power of spells could not be drawn out.

[In return for showing me such an expression, I'll explain what I mean. I heard it from an old hag who lived for thousands of years, that Karen-Den, the creator of magic, actually used both magic and the Creation Psalms.]

Unable to understand the situation due to the hallucination, Mina spoke with a bewildered expression.

“Sister, Master, why are you two doing this to each other?”

As if she was less than a single flying insect, Zernix ignored Mina and continued speaking.

“Frida, I told you. All handsome men are wolves.”

Of course, Zernix's words were distorted in Mina's ears, sounding like the playful admonishments Master Alaza used to give her disciples.

[Since spells are a sub-concept of the Creation Psalms, you have to assume both came from that person's mind. But you know, even Karen-Den had to use the Eldia heroes as shields when using the Creation Psalms against the <Forgotten Kings>.]

“……?”

[Isn't it interesting? That you couldn't use it without pushing those madmen, who cut mountains! And parted seas! With a single sword! Into mortal danger! So the Creation Psalms, and spells, should be seen as incomplete halves that cannot be perfected alone. Of course, magic also has its limits.]

Frida glared fiercely.

Everything the fellow pompously rattled on about was what she had learned while training Dragon Tongue under the Fire Dragon.

The Fire Dragon Bell'dakhidun called Karen-Den "father". If asked about Karen-Den, one would see the Fire Dragon excitedly spinning tales, just as any child would boast about their parent.

- He seemed to be without emotion, but in fact, he possessed a gentle nature more than anyone. He always regretted and mourned having driven the Eldia Lords to their deaths.

I was regretful that I couldn't be a source of strength for him… The Fire Dragon said so, looking up at the sky with sad eyes.

- I wished I had even half the power of the Eldia Lords, so I could have helped Father… but the three of us only held him back even at the very last moment. This war didn't end that day because of Father, but because of us. Because we were lacking and insufficient… Ah, the Eldia Lords sacrificed their lives to fulfill their mission and led the war to victory, yet…

Frida sometimes wondered if the Fire Dragon had taken her as a disciple not because of her talent, but because they were kindred spirits.

A life where only regret remained…

An father who departed before she could be of strength, a life suffering while thinking of what was left undone for that father, perhaps that was why the Fire Dragon felt pity for Frida.

[At this point, ordinary people would probably think, 'Then I should be able to use both magic and spells?']

Whether he knew that feeling or not.

No, the fellow, who lacked the very humanity to understand even if he knew, continued to blabber on presumptuously.

[Wrong, wrong! For supreme beings like me, the very way of thinking is different from the start. It's enough to become a stronger magician than Karen-Den. Just like me, who has perfected magic that no attack can penetrate.]

"You crazy bastard," he said, just by the shape of his mouth, and the fellow's eyes narrowed slyly.

[I find subduing sharp-tongued women like you the most amusing thing in the world. Good, I like it. I'll specially add you to my bride collection.]

Frida raised her middle finger.

[The scriptures say it's a sin to even call someone a fool, so I'll have to deliver a severe punishment instead. On that judgment pyre.]

Several citizens who were worrying about Frida and defending her, murmuring, "Priestess, what are you doing…", were seized by telekinesis and dragged onto the judgment pyre.

[These citizens here are ones I resurrected with the power of the Abyss. I brainwashed them through hallucinations to believe all their recent memories of dying were dreams, but they are definitely people who lived here. In other words, they are your hometown people.]

"You, what are you trying to do?" Frida punched the wall.

No sound came out.

But the flames, the flames delivering severe punishment to the prisoners' bodies on the judgment pyre, surged vigorously as if mocking the situation.

[For the sin of being tainted by the whispers of the Abyss and resurrected, I hereby sentence you to be burned at the stake. Bang, bang, bang!]

Burning at the stake is renowned as the most cruel and agonizing of all death-inducing pains.

The citizens tied to the pyre, Frida's family, began to burn from their toes up, screaming in agony.

The other citizens were horrified. Mina gaped, utterly unable to comprehend the situation.

[Bring in the next prisoner! This will continue until this prisoner casts the spell 'I will become your bride' upon themselves.]

"Are you an idiot? Everyone here personally came, confirmed their deaths, and buried them."

In other words, they are already dead.

Anyway, if that fellow withdraws the Abyss, they will die again. Since they are already dead, there is no value in life, and they shouldn't feel any value.

“Ugh, ugh, ugh-aaaaah…!”

Like that, like that… even as she admonished, threatened, and screamed at her own heart…

“Master, Master, what on earth are you doing?! I can't stand to watch any longer!”

Why, why was her body so helplessly pounding the wall until her fists bled, screaming sounds that didn't even emerge?

It was impossible from the start.

Whether they died, or died and were resurrected… all of them were family.

All those people who had been with her since childhood.

How could she possibly abandon them all at once?

[Aha, so you want to be chosen next? That would be good too.]

The next one caught in the telekinetic clutches was Mina.

Frida screamed like a madwoman.

The very moment Mina was bound in mid-air on the pyre, about to be thrust into the searing flames.

The tip of the iceberg.

A glacier, surging forth and scattering ice light and chill, generated immense steam, sweeping away the flames and reaching right before the eyes of the spellcaster beyond.

Of course, that was as far as it went.

As if it could go no further, the iceberg merely stopped before his eyes.

“Hey, what are you doing here…?”

High-level magic that arrived without any prelude.

‘Oh, it arrived before I could even detect the tremor of magic?’

As the fellow raised an eyebrow with interest, what was heard from behind was the voice of a boy, stained with fury.

“I don't know about anyone else, but you, you more than anyone, I can never forgive…”

In the gap created by that distraction, the holy sword's light roared fiercely. The invisible, soundless prison shattered, and Frida was able to return to this world.

“Frida, are you okay?”

It was Lista, the leader of the hero party, who supported Frida as she stumbled forward.

That meant she was Frida's comrade, belonging to the hero party.

As Pipi flew into the saturation of steam to release Mina's bonds, Lyn was shouting, her fists trembling.

“Who are you to…”

As she gasped with a half-hoarse voice, her eyes welled up and broke transparently at that expression, that voice.

“Who are you, you insignificant thing…!”

Rage so honest and unreserved in emotion that it felt pure. It was as if it was speaking on her behalf.

“Making me cry…!”

Her own rage, which she had tried to ignore—the deaths of her family dying before her eyes—but could neither ignore nor express, now within the voice of reason.

She certainly hadn't cried.

But perhaps her heart had been crying and sobbing. Just as tears were flowing now.

- Are all men wolves?

For a moment, it transported Frida back to her distant childhood, when she walked by her master's side, pilgrimaging through the world.

- Men you meet as partners, yes. But friends are different. Frida, someday you will meet friends.

- Friends? All the guys my age are pathetic. Still clinging to their mothers.

- Someday you'll meet people worthy of being called friends, your equals. I'll tell you how to choose good friends among them.

Her master was a lecher who only liked handsome men, and a flawed adult who was good only at spells and had nothing else to truly teach…

- If you meet a friend who cries for you when you cannot cry, and gets angry for you when you cannot get angry… then be sure to offer a prayer of thanks.

Whenever she placed a hand on young Frida's head and spoke, she always… left only priestess-like advice, respected by all.

- Because you've received a bond that cannot be exchanged for anything.

Words that would become a guideline for her disciple's entire life.

- If that meeting happens after I die, pour a cup of wine at my grave and tell me that story.