Chapter 26

As the men confidently delivered their story with dramatic flair, Mariax couldn’t help but finally show a reaction. A strange glint flickered across her clear eyes.

Eight years old. Gart at eight…

She couldn’t picture his childhood in the slightest. He seemed like someone who had been born with a sturdy body and immense power from the very start.

“The god known as ‘Paradise’ was Anir’s very first sacrifice!”

“She had the power to enthrall all living beings. It’s said she ruled over thousands of humans with beauty alone—but just hearing about it, it’s hard to even imagine how powerful she really was…”

The men paused, then stared at Mariax.

“Ahem, anyway… the cult worshiping Paradise grew larger over time. Her self-proclaimed devotees even absorbed nearby territories and small villages. Anir was just a normal boy from one such village—sacrificed during their aggressive expansion.”

A normal boy. That word couldn’t possibly describe someone like Gart. Neither normal, nor boy.

“Paradise’s power was so great, even humans dragged to her by force would kiss her feet with gratitude. But our Anir? He was different from the start. He wasn’t affected at all by Paradise’s beauty or her enchantments!”

“Even Paradise recognized how special Anir was! Smiling, she pointed at the young boy and said, ‘Offer that child to me as a sacrifice!’”

The men had a decent talent for storytelling. Even knowing it would end with the god’s death and a hero’s birth, Mariax found herself curious: how did an ordinary boy survive such trials?

“Anir was bound and placed upon the altar!”

“Paradise approached him with a radiant smile!”

“Her fanatics cheered at her smile!”

“And just as death loomed right in front of him—in that very moment!”

They described it as though they had witnessed it firsthand.

“Anir’s divinity awakened!”

“The boy’s hand pierced through Paradise’s heart! A black flame, capable of destroying everything, consumed her heart! Screaming, vomiting blood, Paradise fell and met her end!”

“A monster that had devoured thousands and grown stronger knelt before the divine power of an eight-year-old boy!”

Applause burst out from around them. The men proudly drank, as if the tale of heroism were their own.

“And so, Paradise of Olkiedpan died, and the saga of Gart, hero of Olkiedpan, began. And has continued ever since.”

Olkiedpan. The familiar name made Mariax turn her gaze toward the men.

“Olkiedpan?”

It was the first question she had asked during the entire conversation. The men beamed. There it is. After all, no living being could resist some connection to blood, hometown, or school.

“Yes! Didn’t we mention? Our Anir is originally from Olkiedpan.”

“Why, it’s right near Heimdrix!”

“Perhaps Lady Mariax met him once before? Haha, now that would be fate!”

A man’s image appeared clearly in her mind—broad-shouldered, dark-haired, pale-skinned. He looked similar to the humans she’d seen long ago. A typical Northerner. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed earlier.

Mariax’s attention shifted slightly to a strange inconsistency in the story. A powerful god, “Paradise of Olkiedpan”, worshipped by thousands of fanatics? If such a large faction had ever existed, even living deep in the mountains, she would’ve heard of it. And hadn’t it been nearly a hundred years since even the faintest traces of human activity had vanished in this region? How had so many humans gathered in one place? Mariax remembered Lawidy once mentioning humans had started getting bold again—building fortresses and such—but that had only been a recent development. Then it hit her. The tale of “The Birth of Hero Gart” wasn’t some ancient legend. It had happened just before the humans disappeared—a hundred years ago.

Mariax had no special ability to guess a human’s age just by appearance. She’d simply never had the luxury to wonder. During all her time with Gart, the question “How old might he be?” had never once crossed her mind.

“Forgive me if this is rude, but Lady Mariax, may I ask how old you are…?”

“…Just over a hundred and fifty.”

“Oh! My goodness! Then your ages are practically the same! Our Anir turned 144 this year! Ah, these days, a twenty-year age gap is nothing!”

The men’s nonsense confirmed Mariax’s realization. That incredibly strong, youthful-looking man was over a hundred years old.

Mariax fell into a peculiar mood. On the day this entire region froze over, every human had met their end. She had watched it all happen. She believed every living thing had been buried under white snow. And yet—there had been survivors.

Her fingers, neatly folded on her lap, twitched. Mixed emotions swirled, gradually morphing into a shade she couldn’t name. She was just beginning to reflect on that emotion when a commotion broke out.

Drunken men had started a fight. The men who had been with her hurried away to break it up. Clattering and crashing followed. Dishes flew, tables overturned. The tavern owner, used to the chaos, calmly started jotting down a list of broken items.

A man who had been punched flew through the air and crashed into a wooden crate that had been used as a chair. The crate shattered, and its contents spilled out. One item rolled to a stop right at Mariax’s feet. She slowly rolled her eyes around to scan her surroundings. The tavern was in disarray. Quietly, she leaned down and discreetly picked it up. No one noticed a thing.

***

The reclamation of Olkiedpan was carried out by seizing several key strategic points, then gradually expanding their sphere of activity. They defeated local monsters one by one and built human fortresses atop their ruined dens.

After about a decade, Gart’s name was known throughout Olkiedpan. Even without any formal declaration, everyone understood that one man had become the land’s ruler.

Of course, not every monster had been eliminated. The land was vast, and ten years was far too short. Some monsters even fled across rivers into divine territory, so complete conquest was far off.

Since monster attacks had become commonplace, people began treating them like natural disasters. Even so, Gart paid no mind to one group of monsters that had secretly grown in number and taken over Jullaphan in an instant.

White monsters filled the snowy plains. Gart swept his cold gaze across them. Just as the scout’s report had described—four-legged beasts the size of bears, with white fur that let them blend into their surroundings, and sharp claws. At a glance, they could be mistaken for giant northern wolves, but face-to-face, no one would call them ordinary animals.

Instead of a head, several human faces protruded from their necks. The number varied—from one to over a dozen per creature. One face, that of a young girl, cried out “Mommy, mommy.” Another, an elderly man’s, rasped out “Pl-please… help…” in a phlegmy voice. It seemed they were mimicking voices they had once heard. He briefly recalled the scout trembling as he’d made his report. Indeed, to a human, these might be even more terrifying than a monstrous scream.

Gart’s lips curled into a cold smile. He had seen far worse—and it amused him that the creepy creatures now looked unsure and began to retreat. True to the law of the strong, the moment they met eyes, they recognized who was predator and who was prey. The tension in the thousands of watching eyes confirmed that.

Were they trying to flee? Or were they weighing the risk of attacking a strong being to become stronger themselves? Gart wanted to tell them both were poor choices.

Then, something unexpected happened. The monsters, which had been rolling, crawling, or leaping around, all simultaneously dropped flat to the ground. Gart raised both eyebrows. Well, now. Smarter than I thought… He muttered insincerely, as if his heart were softening. Still, he drew his sword. He could at least offer them the mercy of a swift death.

Then one monster, like a wolf howling at the moon, looked up at Gart and spoke.

“O… oh—b-beautiful and e…eternal Paradise—”

Gart’s eyes narrowed.

“T-take this yo…ung and pu…re offering… Please, bl-bless… us—”

His sword sliced the air in a clean line. In an instant, the monster was cleaved in two, dark red blood pouring out. The overwhelming display of power made the other monsters press their heads even lower to the ground.

“With your bri-bright smile—grant us b-blessing…”

“Share your l-love… with us… please!”

“To the mer…ciful, beautiful Paradise—I offer my heart and soul!”

Familiar phrases stirred long-buried memories. Gart stared out over the snow-covered land. The now-vanished god’s kingdom flickered in his mind’s eye. The fanatics, and the moonlit, radiant smile of the one who had ruled them all—Paradise.