Chapter 22

“Ha, this isn’t something we do for just anyone. Consider yourself lucky today.”

“Wanna play hunting game? We drop you, and see who catches you first.”

“We only mess up once out of ten times. And even that one time, it was ‘cause we were drunk, so we’re fine now. Probably.”

“The one who fell didn’t die either. Though their memory’s a little fuzzy now… but they smile more and have a sunnier outlook.”

They were mad. Truly, utterly insane. Mariax shook her head with all her strength, desperate not to die.

“Well… this isn’t the time, I suppose. Got too excited because of the newbie.”

“Telling off your seniors with ‘No’ and ‘I don’t want to’? That takes some guts. Got a strong spine, huh?”

“I like her. She’s got potential.”

The women burst into roaring laughter. Mariax tore up her plan to explore the fortress. At this point, even a room with Gart inside seemed preferable. How could such dangerous people roam freely, unchecked? What a terrifying place this was!

A fierce wind kept brushing past her ears. Before long, the fortress wall came into view. Towering siege weapons lined the top, and armored soldiers busily moved about, maintaining a fortress-like state of high alert.

The women landed gracefully atop the wall. Finally freed from Ryaia’s grasp, Mariax leaned halfway against the battlement, trying to calm her trembling legs. An older-looking man came running up.

“Faldoa, you’re here!”

“Yes.”

“You’re goofing off when the bell rang.”

“Oh, well, they didn’t strike first over there…”

“You always go first in battle, always. Tch, you lot are getting soft…”

Following their gazes, Mariax looked beyond the wall. A massive, snow-white yak god was freezing the surrounding ground, staring straight at the fortress. The women, who had been teasing a man just a moment ago, now wore serious expressions. The god had yet to attack, but its sheer presence radiated a threatening aura.

“When did it show up?”

“About fifteen minutes ago.”

“It’s just been standing there since?”

“Yes.”

“It’s best not to provoke it. We could take it down, but its element doesn’t pair well with ours. Best to wait for Anir to arrive and minimize losses. Tell the others too. No one act rashly.”

When the yak opened its mouth to look up at the wall, a howling blizzard swept out. It wasn’t the sound of a beast, but the voice of a god. It clearly meant to say something—but no one could understand it.

“Ah, my god! Northern dialect, whatever’s fine—just speak a language we know!”

Some gods understood human speech or communicated meaning directly. But most spoke in voices that resembled sounds of nature—mystical and incomprehensible to ordinary humans. Rarely, someone would be born who could hear a god’s voice. These individuals were tasked with divine communication and called priestesses, shamans, or clerics.

But this was a sparsely populated fortress. The odds of someone who could understand the yak god here were slim to none. When the god spoke again, ice crystals formed around its long horns and began falling one by one. Believing an attack was imminent, the human soldiers stiffened with renewed vigilance.

But Mariax alone could feel what the god meant to say. A raw emotion clawed through her chest. It was mourning. She clutched her chest, overwhelmed by a pain that wasn’t hers, and looked at the women standing along the battlement. Their playfulness was gone, replaced with sharp caution in their eyes. They clearly couldn’t understand the god’s intention.

“Faldoa.”

At the name she’d heard earlier, all three women turned to look at her. Only then did Mariax realize they all were named Faldoa.

“Pushy one, aren’t you. I get it—you want to leap out and chop some heads. But wait.”

“Newbies are always like this. So hot-blooded.”

Mariax had no idea what they claimed to understand. The Faldoa sisters clicked their tongues, saying things like “This is the age for blood and war,” “So cute, really,” making her feel even more stifled. She pushed back the hood that had been covering her eyes. Her silver hair fluttered in the wind, catching light in iridescent hues. The Faldoa sisters’ eyes widened.

“Find the child.”

Ryaia finally responded to Mariax’s words, “…The child?”

“He’s saying: return the child inside the fortress.”

“You understood that mess of a divine message? Are you a priestess or what, newbie?”

Whatever a priestess was didn’t matter right now. From the moment she heard the god’s voice, Mariax had been unable to shake a growing sense of urgency. The god’s feelings had transferred to her completely. Her chest felt heavy and tight.

“This might end without fighting.”

Ryaia didn’t respond, just looked down at Mariax with folded arms. After a moment, she shrugged.

“You think the god’ll just sit there while we look for the kid?”

Mariax looked out past the wall again. Beneath the long strands of fur hanging over its face, she could see eyes filled with sorrow. There was no malice.

“Yes.”

“Alright then. If you say so.”

Ryaia soared up and landed across the wall on the fortress’s inner side.

“Oze! Oze!”

Mariax followed her. Down below, nestled between some massive soldiers, was a dark figure. Oze looked up and gave a small wave.

“Yeah, yeah, Oze, nice to see you too. Anyway, they say we’ve got a god’s child in the fortress. Help us find it!”

Oze made a circle with his arms. Then divine energy began to radiate from him. Like ripples in a pond, faint sound waves spread from him—inaudible to most humans. Only Mariax, the Faldoa sisters, and a few warriors squinted at the high-frequency sound echoing in their minds. The wave eventually died down. The search was complete.

“Where is it?”

Oze raised his arms in an X.

“Not here?”

Now he formed a circle. Mariax glanced nervously at Ryaia, ready to defend herself if accused of giving false information. But surprisingly, Ryaia was just staring into empty space, idly flexing her fingers.

“One’s an omnipotent god, the other’s omnipotent Oze…” Suddenly, her fingers froze. Ryaia’s gaze turned ice cold. “Those filthy worms…”

Killing intent radiated from her. A chill settled over Mariax’s neck, and she quickly pulled her cloak tighter.

“Oze!”

Ryaia’s furious voice made Oze tilt his head.

“Change your search! Not something alive, something dead! Target: a four-legged beast with horns. Even the chopped-up parts—find everything!”

A heavy silence swept over the wall. And finally, Mariax understood the reason behind the sorrow. It wasn’t just that the god had lost a child—it knew the child was dead. She opened her mouth, trying to release the emotion that gripped her chest, but only a white breath drifted soundlessly into the air.

By then, everything moved quickly. The moment Oze raised a circle above his head, Ryaia swooped in and abducted him the same way she had Mariax.

Shortly after, Ryaia returned alone, cradling the corpse of a baby yak god smaller than Mariax. Blood dripped from the long gash down its white belly. Ryaia’s eyes blazed with emotion she couldn’t hide.

“Why do things never go smoothly?”

The Faldoa sisters scratched their heads with grim faces.

“Ryaia, the moment you return this, we’re in for a bloodbath.”

“If it comes to that, we can use the corpse as a bargaining chip.”

“All this hell just because of some mangy beasts!”

The once-quiet surroundings grew restless. The sharp clatter of weapons and the rising tension filled the air. Everyone began preparing for an all-out battle.

The god spoke again. Louder than before, the snowstorm in its voice only heightened the tension. The Faldoa sisters looked at Mariax in unison—as if demanding simultaneous interpretation.

“Return the dead child. Then I’ll leave.”

“Leave?”

Even Ryaia, who had trusted Mariax’s ability from the start, now looked uncertain.

Despite everyone’s warnings, Ryaia flew over the wall. The tension eased only after she knelt before the god and laid down the bloodied child’s body. Despite the crowd, not a single breath could be heard.

Ryaia slowly backed away. Contrary to expectations, the god did not lash out. After a long stillness, it bowed its head and gently licked the child. Carefully, lovingly, until the blood crust was gone. Then it nuzzled the child’s face.

The god lifted its head again, looked Mariax in the eye, spoke once more, and turned away, leaving the body behind.

The watch on the wall didn’t relax until the god was out of sight—and Oze had double-checked with his senses. Only then did everyone finally lower their guard. Ryaia, who had been watching the god disappear, now flew back up onto the wall.

“Interpreter!”

Mariax wasn’t sure when that became her name. At the urgent demand, she recalled the words that had passed through her like wind and snow.

“White flame…”

“Flame?”

Mariax clenched her hand tightly and looked into the distance, where the god had vanished.

“Tell the master of this land. Burn the child with white flame that lights the night.”