Chapter 71

The Fairy and the Young Lord

Fritz, who had been sitting on the saddle, dismounted from Allen’s horse. Though his expression was tense, the boy respectfully accepted the “branch of the spirit tree” that Ulrich held out, using both hands.

Then, a wind blew.

At the moment it passed from Ulrich’s hand to Fritz’s, mana poured out from within the branch. That mana stirred the air, pushing away the surrounding fog.

The boy’s eyes widened, then he clenched his hand tightly. The flow of mana from the branch abruptly ceased.

“Good.”

“Ul— no, Lord Armin, this is…”

Ulrich nodded.

“As Vermelani said, a spirit tree is a tree inhabited by a spirit. In other words, it’s a tree that contains mana—and what you just felt was that mana.”

Fritz examined the branch with fascination. Outwardly, it looked no different from any ordinary stick one might find rolling around in the mountains.

But the boy could feel the mana within it.

Roberta and Elias, standing a few steps away, sensed nothing at all, yet the boy holding the branch felt it clearly.

“I think I understand why mages use magical tools.”

Without using one’s own mana, one could still perform feats. To those obsessed with mana, it could only be a precious item.

“That’s not all there is to a spirit tree. In truth, it’s a pity to see it merely as a tool. Its essence is like a seed that has yet to sprout.”

“Ah… yes. You mentioned earlier—unlike ordinary spirits, it’s a spirit that has taken root in another object without yet budding. Then… does that mean the spirit might awaken someday?”

“Depending on the circumstances.”

Stroking his chin, Ulrich looked at the branch.

“It’s close to a stroke of luck, but sometimes the spirit does sprout. And when it does, it’s quite different from the spirits we’ve seen before. That’s precisely why some are willing to pay a high price for it.”

“Then why give something like this to me?”

Ulrich gently patted the boy’s head.

“You know why. I’ve already experienced more than my share of such things—I have no need to be greedy for more.”

***

Ulrich’s group resumed their journey after a brief halt.

As they continued forging a path through the forest, the fog gradually thinned. They had arrived at the forest’s edge early in the morning, and as time neared noon, the mist began to recede.

With their visibility improving, they began to notice traces they would have missed before.

Throughout the forest lay scattered stones overgrown with moss and vines.

Pillars so wide that even wrapping both arms around them wouldn’t reach the ends, stone walls taller than a boy even in their collapsed state, and statues modeled after people but lying broken, their heads missing—the remnants were ancient and desolate.

Following Ulrich, the group rode into what remained of an old city.

“To think there was a city in a forest like this.”

Elias muttered to himself. The young master of a ducal house who loved adventure seemed moved, his tone filled with awe at the ruins.

“They didn’t build a city in a forest, did they?”

“More likely, the forest grew over a city that was abandoned.”

The fairy Vermelani answered.

“That makes sense. But how long would it take for a forest like this to grow?”

Roberta firmly stated that it couldn’t have been merely decades. The ground was even and level—clearly, a city had once been built on a plain, and a forest had later overtaken it.

She thought of the jungle of Kuiania in the Far East. Today, it was the largest jungle on the Ekhir continent. But long ago, it had been a desert.

A man using the alias Selim had freed fairy slaves, and over a long span of time and effort, they had cultivated that desert into a jungle.

Then what about this place?

It had once been a city on flat land, now turned into a forest. Whose hand had shaped it?

No—this place, devoid of human presence, was a forest created by nature. It must have taken even longer than the fairies had needed to turn a desert into a jungle.

What era could these ruins be from?

It was impossible to tell at a glance. In truth, even a closer look wouldn’t help—she had no knowledge of archaeology, so staring at aged stones would reveal nothing.

She glanced sideways at Ulrich. Unlike her, he might know something—but he said nothing.

Riding at the front, he simply surveyed their surroundings, not offering a single word about the ruins.

Just as Roberta was about to voice the curiosity welling up inside her—

“Quiet.”

Ulrich said, pulling on the reins.

The fairy and the young master in mid-conversation, Fritz fiddling with the spirit tree branch, Roberta who had just opened her mouth—all of them followed Ulrich’s lead and halted.

They didn’t need to ask why.

As silence fell over the group, a sound reached them. It was a harsh, choking noise, like that of beasts—growing louder, as if in conflict.

“Kkuls.”

Roberta said sharply. She had hunted kkuls during her time as an apprentice priest. It was a sound she recognized.

“What will you do?”

The fairy asked subtly, as if suggesting an immediate charge.

“Wait here. I’ll check if there’s anything besides kkuls.”

Ulrich dismounted and gestured to Roberta. She nodded and followed him.

Through the dense vegetation, ruined structures were scattered, and the two moved silently between them until they reached their destination.

A mound formed by collapsed buildings—they lay prone atop it and observed a clearing in the distance.

Several humanoid beasts had gathered, chattering noisily.

Green skin, small bodies, wrinkled faces, hunched backs, and sharp teeth—it was a group of kkuls.

“There are quite a lot.”

After counting their numbers, Roberta spoke in a low voice. There were over forty heads visible at a glance.

“And I see a mutant among them.”

Indeed, among the group was one kkul of unusually large size. Ordinary kkuls were smaller than adult men, but this one towered several heads taller than a grown human.

“With numbers like this, they would have come down from the mountains soon enough.”

“Yes. We did well to hurry.”

Had they delayed by even a day or two, the nearby villages might have been attacked. Their numbers and strength were sufficient for it.

The kkuls in the clearing were armed.

Of course, most of their weapons were crude—nothing more than sharpened wooden sticks.

But some of them carried iron weapons, likely taken from travelers they had ambushed along the roads.

One of them was even wearing chainmail. He was so short that the armor hung below his knees, and it had rusted from lack of care. Still, against a poorly equipped village, there would be no way to deal with it.

As she continued observing the group, Roberta frowned.

“…And there are hostages.”

On one side of the clearing, people lay collapsed on the ground. There were two of them—children. Too young to have even undergone a coming-of-age ceremony, they were bound hand and foot, lying there weakly.

Disgust welled up inside her.

This was one of the reasons Kkuls were called monsters. Though they possessed high intelligence, the things they did with it were utterly vile.

The children were hostages. Kkuls were not human. They did not take hostages to negotiate rewards—they used them to shake their opponents. Once a fight began, they would undoubtedly use the children as shields.

She had experienced such situations many times.

Roberta ground her teeth.

There were only Kkuls here. Their numbers were somewhat high, but their strength was manageable.

But the hostages… that was the problem.

They needed a plan.

The two returned and reported the situation to the group.

“Hostages?”

Elias asked back, his tone rising.

“Please remain calm, young master.”

“No—those monsters are holding children captive!”

As his voice began to rise, Vermelani covered his mouth.

“If you fall for the enemy’s provocation, it will only make things worse. All the more reason to stay calm and decide how to act.”

“…Mm.”

The young master let out an uncomfortable sound, but soon nodded.

“Then what do we do?”

Roberta looked at Ulrich. He checked his gear briefly, then swiftly mounted his horse.

“I’ll handle the children. You deal with the monsters.”

“What? Alone? Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

The young master looked at him with concern, then turned his gaze to the fairy.

Vermelani remained silent. She looked at Ulrich for a moment before replying, “Understood,” and mounted her saddle.

Roberta and Fritz didn’t hesitate at all. They grabbed their reins and prepared themselves even before the young master and the fairy.

Soon, as Ulrich spurred his horse forward, they followed right behind him.

***

Kkuls.

It had only been four months since the monsters known by that name had settled in the forest. A group of Kkuls born in some demonic region in the west had slipped past the borders and moved east.

Amid the chaos of the times, no one noticed a few Kkuls escaping.

The group moved from mountain to mountain until they reached ruins abandoned since ancient times.

At first, there were only four of them.

But after a week in the untouched forest, their numbers multiplied several times. Another week passed, and they multiplied again.

After repeating this several times, the group had grown to nearly fifty, and the Kkuls began to seek prey beyond mere animals.

“What’s this? They said monsters, but they’re nothing special.”

Their first hunt ended in disaster.

The Kkuls had never faced humans before and had no idea how to judge their strength. They nearly went extinct because of it.

But they were lucky.

Their opponents were people who didn’t understand how dangerous Kkuls were. They didn’t bother chasing after the fleeing creatures.

“Should we go after them since they’re running?”

“No need to chase them into the forest.”

Thanks to that, the surviving Kkuls gained experience.

They learned to distinguish between humans who were easy prey and those who were not—and devised strategies to target the weaker ones.

They carved wooden spears with stone knives, gathered poisonous plants and coated the tips, and set traps throughout the forest.

As a result, the Kkuls completely took over the forest paths.

“…Brother…”

The two boys lying in the clearing had been captured just last week. They were brothers—the children of a merchant whose caravan had been attacked by the Kkuls.

Their father had paid the price for underestimating the danger.

Even after hearing that monsters were in the area, he believed it would be fine. With guards accompanying them, he thought no mere monsters would dare approach.

The price was heavy.

The father died before his children’s eyes, and the travelers who believed they would be safe with the caravan met the same fate.

“Get up… brother…”

The younger one, Eshu, lay on his side on the bare ground, parting his dry lips as he called out to his older brother, two years his senior.

“B-brother…”

There was no answer.

The boy, soon to turn eleven, lay limp as if dead, his head buried in the dirt.

He wasn’t dead.

He was still breathing, faintly.

But he had reached his limit.

Since being captured, the brothers had eaten nothing. They had only moistened their throats with rain that fell every few days—not even a mouthful of grass had passed their lips.

Kkuls were monsters.

And monsters showed no mercy.

From experience, they had learned that humans weakened at the sight of children—so they kept them alive only to use them when attacking.

There had been three more children on the day the brothers were captured.

Now, only the two remained.

And even they would not survive the day.

‘I’m hungry…’

The younger boy lowered his head again after struggling to lift it to look at his brother. He no longer had the strength to keep it raised.

His throat was parched.

His stomach ached with hunger.

‘…Am I going to die like this?’

His gaze fell upon the noisy group of Kkuls.

He couldn’t understand what they were saying—it sounded like beasts howling.

But one thing was clear.

They were enjoying themselves.

They tore into meat, drank their fill, and laughed loudly. Even as human children starved to death, the beast-like creatures in human form didn’t care in the slightest.

He couldn’t even muster resentment.

Thinking itself was exhausting.

All Eshu could do was weakly close his eyes.

And then—

A sound reached his ears.

Lying on his side, his ear pressed to the ground, he heard something.

It wasn’t the cry of beasts.

It was the pounding sound of something striking the earth forcefully.

‘…Hoofbeats.’

Monsters do not ride horses.

Only humans tame and ride them.

Then why… here, now… could he hear the sound made by humans?

The boy opened his eyes.

From the forest ahead—not far away—someone was charging forward on horseback at full speed.