Chapter 739: Chapter 739: Changed Fate (2)
A clearing under ash-gray clouds.
Originally, this place was where barbarians gathered whenever they had matters to discuss or announcements to make.
Other races usually held such meetings indoors for formality and security...
But barbarians found that inefficient.
Why gather indoors when you can stand firmly on your two legs and just listen?
Because of this, the barbarian sanctuary had no proper meeting rooms, and when Bersil asked the administrative secretary-general for a place to hold talks with dozens of people, he was shown this clearing.
Of course, it was hard to understand that such a large group had no proper building...
[Don’t try to understand everything. Just accept it—that’s better for your sanity.]
Hearing the secretary-general’s enlightened words, I found myself nodding unconsciously.
It was genuine advice, and honestly, not wrong.
When dozens gather, huge conference halls actually make communication harder.
‘Seeing everyone gathered like this, a naturally horizontal atmosphere just happens...’
Maybe that was a barbarian strength.
Once you accept it, you can see the unexpected advantages.
The clan leaders called out here hadn’t quite accepted it yet.
“Ahem...”
“Why call us out here so early in the morning?”
“How can important matters be discussed in a place like this? Barbarians don’t even have synagogues or anything?”
“They don’t.”
“Heh... they say you’ve advanced a lot but still—”
“Enough.”
From Bersil’s point of view, these people clearly didn’t understand their current situation.
Because they weren’t guests.
Therefore...
‘I need to say this first.’
Before the meeting started in earnest, Bersil addressed this.
“I guess many don’t realize it, but we’re refugees fleeing a war. The barbarians are hosts who took us in.”
“...Ahem.”
“In that spirit, how about we take a moment to express gratitude for providing us safe shelter and food?”
“......”
“You never know. If they throw us out, we’d have to return helplessly to District 7.”
At that, Bersil glanced at Ainar, who grinned and stepped forward.
“Yeah, parasites! You saved us, sheltered us, fed us. If you’re human, wouldn’t it be right to shout a battle cry in respect and thanks?”
“...A battle cry?”
“Y-You mean Behela?”
“Of course!! If you don’t want to, you can refuse! We barbarians respect free will!”
“Ah... then I must decline for religious reasons—”
“Oh! Then you can leave the sanctuary right now!”
“Didn’t you say you respect free will earlier?”
“Freedom comes with great responsibility. Don’t you know that?”
Ainar gave a disdainful look, and the man who was about to refuse went mute, as did other clan leaders.
Bersil saw it was time to give some encouragement.
“Ainar, stop. That person was just declining for religious reasons, but surely grateful to the barbarians.”
“Oh, is that so?”
“Of course. That’s only natural for humans.”
The man nodded eagerly.
Better to say thanks than shout battle cries in front of everyone.
Others chimed in with words of gratitude.
“Miss Pnellen, sincere thanks.”
“Our Partia clan feels the same. We will never forget the favor received this time.”
Watching this, Bersil smiled quietly.
Though it looked like simple thanks, such small acts build bonds of give and take.
“Vice Commander Gouldland.”
“Speak, Commander Erta.”
“Can you explain why you called us here this morning? You didn’t gather so many people just for thanks, right?”
“Ah, that?”
Bersil stepped forward, as if waiting for the chance.
Then loudly addressed everyone.
“About an hour ago, the barrier between the sanctuary and District 7 started weakening.”
Those words struck like lightning in the minds of the explorers who had relaxed since arriving.
“...W-what does that mean?”
“The barrier enclosing the sanctuary wasn’t made by Noark! They’re too busy fighting the royal family to bother with us!”
Strictly speaking, it was the barbarians stationed in the sanctuary, but that was irrelevant.
“Then why now... what’s the reason—?”
“The reason doesn’t matter.”
Bersil cut off the question firmly and went to the main point.
“The barrier is weakening, that’s true. We confirmed the magic supply was cut off and the barrier is naturally breaking down.”
“Vice Commander, how much time do we have left?”
A calm voice responded—a leader of the Labrime clan?
Unlike others I wanted to punch, he had always shown rationality.
“It’s not exact, but I estimate about an hour.”
“An hour...”
“Anyway, since that’s the case, we must prepare. I see only two reasons for the barrier suddenly breaking.”
“May I hear them?”
“First, some problem caused the magic supply to cut.”
“And the second?”
Looking at a man who had just shouted, Bersil answered.
“Noark probably has the capacity now.”
“...?”
“To deal with us.”
In fact, Bersil considered this most likely, and maybe it showed in his voice.
“......”
“......”
A heavy silence followed.
A clearing so quiet it hardly seemed like dozens were gathered.
Breaking it was a woman’s voice.
“So... what do we do now...?”
Well.
If it were up to her, Bersil and I both would have answered, “I don’t know.”
But...
[From today on, you are our clan’s vice commander.]
That wouldn’t do.
Bersil closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them again.
“Everyone must prepare for battle.”
“Can we hear the strategy?”
“Primarily, we’ll focus on defense. We’ll build a stronghold at the gate and block it; enemies won’t break through easily.”
“If primarily, then there’s a next step?”
“Yes. If an opportunity arises, we’ll push forward.”
“Push forward...?”
The leaders’ eyes widened in surprise, but Bersil shrugged.
Though she was ‘mage’ and ‘ranged attacker,’ she now understood.
“Yes. Attack is the best defense.”
To protect what’s truly precious, you must know how to strike.
Shabin Emour, the barbarian sanctuary’s administrative secretary-general.
She was busier than anyone in the tribe.
Naturally so.
The sanctuary’s location was unlucky, once again swept by war, and she was the acting head of all sanctuary affairs.
So she had to stay sharp—
“Miss Emour, I brought some tea. Take a moment to refresh your throat.”
“...Huh? But I don’t have time—”
“Don’t you have time for tea? You don’t need to carry this burden alone.”
“...I understand, but the enemy is about to storm in, how can I rest—!”
Emour looked ready to lose her mind.
After all, her specialty was administrative office work, not war.
“Then I won’t insist, but I’ll leave the tea here. Please drink it when you can. Sometimes, to be effective, you have to calm yourself deliberately.”
“...Thank you, Rotmiller.”
Rotmiller had really come just to bring tea.
After setting the tea down, he turned away, and Emour noticed something different.
“Mr. Rotmiller? What’s with that gear?”
Rotmiller, usually in neat casual clothes, was now wearing full equipment.
Like he was about to enter the labyrinth.
“Oh... Emour, this is your first time seeing it? I kept my old gear just in case, and now I’m glad.”
“Are you... joining the battle...?”
“Isn’t that necessary? We need every hand we can get.”
“But you were a scout!!”
It might have sounded rude.
Yet Rotmiller smiled gently.
“Haha, don’t worry too much. I was a scout, but also an explorer. I went into the labyrinth to protect what’s precious.”
Emour was speechless.
After all, thinking clearly, she couldn’t really stop him.
“Well, I came to say hello. Once I head to the front, you probably won’t see me till this is over.”
In the end, all she could say was:
“...Take care.”
She spoke sincerely, and Rotmiller responded briefly.
“...I will return safely.”
With that, Rotmiller left the room.
Left alone, Emour flushed.
‘I will return safely...!’
Even sipping fragrant tea, her heart wouldn’t calm.
Prince Lion.
Only one person at the Round Table used that title.
Known for swaggering like Auril Gavis’s spokesperson.
‘Wolf.’
Coincidentally, the ‘Hirkmuta’ mask the opponent wore was also a black wolf.
But rather than coincidence...
‘They must have belonged to that group from the start.’
No doubt, that was why they chose the wolf mask.
“Hahaha, don’t be so wary. I’m not your enemy.”
“Then why did you block the way?”
“I never blocked you.”
“Is that so? Then get out of the way.”
I spoke coldly, but he had no intention of stepping aside.
“I said don’t be so wary. I’m just here on an elder’s orders to offer advice.”
The elder must be old Auril Gavis...
“Advice...”
Written with the characters meaning ‘helpful’ and ‘speech.’
Literally, it means ‘helpful words.’
But why did hearing that feel so ominous and make me wary?
I didn’t know, but perhaps sensing I’d listen, he ‘advised’ me.
“Since you came this way, you’re heading to the sanctuary, right?”
“......”
“Don’t go to the sanctuary. Go that way.”
He pointed toward burning District 7.
I was so stunned I couldn’t even laugh.
“You said you wouldn’t block me, that was bullshit.”
“I truly have no intention to block. If Prince Lion goes to the sanctuary this way, I’ll step aside.”
“Is that so? Then get out of the way.”
“If you wish.”
Unexpectedly, he ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ pressed close to the wall’s edge and let me pass.
So...
Step step.
Cautiously, wondering if he might do something, I walked forward.
Then...
Step.
Just as I was about to pass in front of him—
“Oh, one more thing. Killing the Jester was a bad choice.”
“Does my choice matter?”
“It does. At least to Prince Lion. The elder said if the Jester had lived, he would have been a great help to you.”
“I doubt that, but I see your elder is quite meddlesome.”
“He’s merciful and noble.”
No wonder he’s a diehard Auril Gavis fan.
Finding no more reason to talk, I resumed walking past him.
Step.
One step.
Step.
Two steps.
Step—
After bearing a lot of thoughts, I took three more steps.
‘Ha, I’m really losing it...’
Finally, I turned back and asked.
“...Why?”
Though I didn’t like seeing his eyes narrow behind the mask,
“Are you saying don’t go to the sanctuary?”
Unable to hold back the question, he answered eagerly.
“Who lives or dies depends on where you go.”
“......”
“So don’t go to the sanctuary, go to District 7. That’s the choice that best protects Prince Lion.”
“A choice for me...”
I chuckled and asked one last thing.
“Fine. Did that elder tell you about this future too?”
“I don’t know what you mean, but that’s the extent of the advice I was allowed—”
I wasn’t asking for more advice.
With a quick motion, I grabbed his throat and pushed him toward the wall’s edge.
“Will you live here, or die?”
If he answers right, maybe I could believe him.