Apostle of the Void

Chapter 57: Wintering (8)

The village of Marind was bustling with preparations for the festival.

It was already mid-13th month, and the Festival of Shelters, a holiday observed by all nations and regions of the world, had arrived.

The Festival of Shelters takes place from the middle to the end of the final month, culminating in welcoming the New Year in a temporary shelter.

Arzen had come down to the village with Eren.

They were here to bake unleavened bread.

"Not like that! You need to smack the flour like this with your fist!"

People were nagging incessantly around them.

Children, covered in flour from head to toe, giggled as they ran around the mill.

Their shrieks, mixed with those of the women chasing them, created such a cacophony that Arzen\'s head started to spin.

“What’s the point of eating unleavened bread?”

Unable to suppress his boredom, Arzen muttered, to which Eren responded.

"Because there’s no flavor to it, that\'s the point."

"Is this some kind of torture?"

“Well, in a sense, yes. It’s a reminder of the hardships of the past.”

At that moment, something flew straight into Arzen’s face.

It was a ball of flour dough, and as the flour dispersed in the air, his respiratory system was thrown into disarray.

Tom and the other boys were snickering.

“Hey, Arzen!”

“That’s a love cake from us!”

“You little brats... Kaz tu Arcturas!”

The Void Bees began to buzz... emerging from another dimension, causing the boys to freeze in fear.

“Wait, hold on! Let’s talk this out!”

“Eat dirt!”

“I’ve already prepared a countermeasure for your cowardly summoning magic! Here, have some syrup!”

Tom, imitating Arzen’s tone, unleashed his strategy!

“You idiot! Like that’ll work!”

However, the Void Bees took even Arzen’s command, “Eat dirt,” literally and started feasting on the syrup instead.

Arzen stumbled, dumbfounded.

“Wh-What? That ridiculous counter actually worked?”

“Your almighty summons have been neutralized! Now it’s our turn again!”

“Charge! Hyaaaaah!”

“Gaaaah! Stop it!”

Cakes were flying everywhere, turning Arzen\'s head and face into a complete mess.

“I can’t take it anymore! I’m wiping you all out… not a single one of you will survive!”

As he seriously contemplated whether to unleash Barollus or Evakta, laughter echoed around him.

“Ha, ahaha, aha, ahahahaha…”

In an instant, Arzen’s mind went blank.

It was Eren’s laughter.

It was the first time he’d ever heard Eren laugh out loud like that.

‘Who knew this guy could laugh like that?’

That thought didn’t last long.

The cake attack continued even through Eren’s laughter.

“Kaz tu Arcturas, Void Squadron, full deployment!”

Close to a hundred Void Bees began crawling out from the other dimension, evoking a scene straight out of hell.

“Holy crap! Does this guy not understand the concept of a joke?! Run!”

"Ah, that chilling and familiar sound of wings flapping. It’s time to return to being the cold and ruthless Void Killer, Arzen."

Arzen’s eyes gleamed ominously.

In an instant, a staff came crashing down upon his head.

“You little brat!”

“Ugh!”

“Why haven’t you used the Double Incantation again, huh? What? Is what I’m saying funny? Are you barking like a dog?”

“No, no! I’m sorry! I’ll do it again!”

At that sight, everyone in the mill began to laugh.

Arzen couldn\'t understand why people chose to stay in the countryside instead of moving to the city.

The city had everything.

From all sorts of conveniences to cultural facilities like parks, libraries, and museums.

On the other hand, the countryside had nothing.

Because of that, he had thought of rural villages as prisons without bars.

However, after coming to this Marind village, he realized that it was a twisted preconceived notion.

The countryside had a different charm from the city.

\'That is... Jeong.\'

[TL/N: "Jeong" does not have a direct translation but means the feeling of loyalty and of strong emotional connection to people and places]

The members of the city were mostly strangers to each other.

Everyone had their own jobs and responsibilities, so it was difficult to form personal connections.

But in the village, everyone was friends and family.

Certainly, there were decayed villages and those that became hubs for crime.

He had seen such places a few times during the era of the Divine Guillotine.

But this was not one of them.

This Marind was different.

* * *

At the highest level of the Papal Office, in the Dragon Spirit Hall.

Here, just below the Heavenly Palace , five cardinals gathered.

Known as the "Five Pillars" of the Papal Office, these were all True Dragons of the Yellow Dragon Legion.

Originally, the supreme being of the Yellow Dragon Legion was the Radiant Dragon, Haraderiman.

However, the Radiant Dragon had grown old and sick.

Thus, these True Dragons discussed important matters and determined the course of events.

Since the emergence of the Three-Dragon Legion, they had dedicated themselves solely to assisting the Radiant Dragon.

However, for various significant matters, the Three-Dragon Legion sought their opinions as elders.

「“Setsunen, what’s the matter? Why do you wear such a sorrowful expression?”」

Cardinal Yoshuhar, asked.

He was a figure akin to the Grandmaster of Thunder.

Setsunen of Thunder revealed an object sealed in rune-etched silk before the cardinals.

「“!”」

It was a manifestation of corruption, delusion, a scream spreading like cracks throughout space and time.

In short, it was akin to the summation of the Void.

The chief cardinal, Inraheit, unleashed beams of golden light to encase it in a brilliant veil of light.

「“The 27th sealing formation has collapsed, and this is a trace left by that calamity. I lament that far too many children have died in the process.”」

The lament of Setsunen focused more on the children who had perished within that narrative than on the collapse of the sealing formation.

Setsunen had always been like that.

The name Setsunen means \'Compassion\', or a \'heart of pity.\'

Setsunen had lived a life befitting that name.

「“Speak in detail,”」

Another cardinal, Hagon, said.

「"I have read the memories of the one surviving child, and ancient goblins have emerged, violating the borders.”」

Cardinal Paremm squinted and looked around at his colleagues.

「“That is strange. Weren’t the ancient goblins exterminated by Sarandis Alter Naisemon during the ‘Great Demon Purge’ 1,400 years ago?”」

Yoshuhar observed the wedge trapped within the veil of light and spoke up.

「“What if they were summoned from the past when they were not exterminated?”」

The cardinals fell silent in unison.

The implications were clear.

The destruction of the world stemming from the return of the ancient king.

「“The ancient king, Anridal, who governs the entirety of space and time—past, present, and future.”」

This was a matter from a century ago.

When the Lord of Time, Anridal, was awakened by the Black Church\'s Black Water, the Radiant Dragon had to pay the price on behalf of the world.

During the process of reconstructing the seal, the Radiant Dragon suffered fatal injuries to its body and spirit.

That was why it still had not emerged from its sickbed.

「“Also, the investigation of the Red Mountains has been completed; a Salamander leading the Reptilians was discovered in the depths of the Red Mountains.”」

「“!”」

「“During the battle, many children were severely injured. Please allow me to go there and tend to their suffering.”」

The Reptilians were one of the Forgotten Kings, the minions of the Lizard Lord from the primitive kingdom.

Demons were the corrupted forms of humanity.

However, these Reptilians were not; they were beings brought by the Forgotten Kings from another world.

As primitive warriors, they did not even have the right to die, as that was entrusted to the Forgotten Kings, meaning they were bound by death.

They could not simply be killed by strangulation; their bodies had to be completely crushed.

The Salamander was a giant and high-ranking type of Reptilian.

This Salamander was said to have held the rank of general or sorcerer, commanding the Reptilians in the era before recorded history.

It could manipulate lava at will and was classified as a highly dangerous ancient creature.

Thus, despite being a joint operation of the Platinum 7th Adventure Group, the Special Operations Division of the Magic Guild, and the Witch Association, numerous casualties had occurred.

The cardinals each wore serious expressions.

「“This is clearly a situation of concEren.”」

Chief Cardinal Inrahit spoke.

「“I command that a single WyvEren be dispatched to each border. We must ascertain the status of all sealing circles.”」

* * *

The final day of the Festival of Shelters concludes with a night spent in a handmade booth.

In a clearing near the ferry terminal.

Here, trees that Arzen had felled and Tom and Dave had tirelessly carried were stacked neatly.

That day, the first snow of the year fell.

The sight of the trees blanketed in pure white snow held an indescribable mystery.

The witch made her way down to the ferry terminal, her aged body leaning heavily on Arzen, who helped her walk, making her steps appear easier than usual.

The witch assigned wood to each household and offered a prayer.

“Parent of Light, we thank you for coming to this land and dying for us, freeing us from our moans in darkness.”

“......”

“May you be with us, who have gathered here to remember that grace, and guide us in joy until the last day of this year.”

For Arzen, this was the first time since his childhood that he was properly celebrating a festival.

A class of adventurers, especially those like the Divine Guillotine, would never properly observe such a festival.

“It’s just a holiday that gives the guild a chance to squeeze out some extra bonuses.”

“Let’s get started, then.”

Eren picked up an axe.

“Do you think the great Arzen would do such manual labor?”

“Yes.”

“Though I will not do it with my own hands.”

That’s right.

Arzen was the cold and ruthless master of the Void.

Such menial tasks could be left to the underlings.

“Kaz tu—”

“—No!”

The witch tapped Arzen\'s shoulder with her staff.

“You must not use the power of this ability when making the shelter for the Festival of Shelters!”

“Why can’t I?”

“Oh? Are you hungry?”

“Why can’t I, I say!”

Eren explained in place of the hard-of-hearing witch.

“The Festival of Shelters is a time to reflect on the past when people had to live primitively in booths under the oppression of kings before recorded history. The process of making the booth holds significance.”

“Tch, I wasn’t even born in that time and never suffered under such oppression. What’s the point of this?”

“Everyone has their own booth… a past of unfortunate times spent living in a booth.”

Suddenly, the witch spoke.

“There must have been a time in your life as well. A life lived in a booth… and the light that saved you from that life. This is a festival to remember and commemorate that.”

At her voice...

A moment from when his life in the Flowing Desert was about to end flashed in his memory.

At that time, the majesty of the Void that descended, cutting through all darkness, came to mind.

- You have been chosen.

He did not know the intention or reason behind the choice.

But.

Arzen had surely been liberated from his ‘own booth’ starting from that moment.

“But I don’t know anything.”

He didn’t know...

He hadn’t learned anything...

The only fragmented memory he had of the Festival of Shelters was from his childhood when his mother was healthy and his father was by his side.

Even that was all handled by his parents, and Arzen just watched.

“You can learn from now on.”

The witch said.

“Since it’s empty, it will be easier to fill it.”

Arzen began to peel the surface of the wood, following Eren.

They said that to make an excellent booth, you had to first strip off the bark.

Once the inner flesh of the wood was exposed, it had to be placed at regular intervals and tied together, then draped with a tarp.

“You said you didn’t know how, but you’re doing quite well.”

“There’s nothing that the versatile Arzen cannot do.”

“I was joking.”

“Hmph.”

“Joking is what I was doing.”

Arzen himself was surprised.

‘It’s my first time doing this, but…’

After being forced to do all sorts of menial tasks during the days of Divine Guillotine, he quickly got the hang of it.

‘I thought I’d have nothing but useless knowledge from being an adventurer... but it turns out this knowledge is quite useful.’

As he carved the wood, memories of setting up camping tents during the Divine Guillotine days came to mind.

Back then, he had been so inexperienced that getting pricked by thorns and scraping his skin was a given, yet he couldn’t cry.

If he cried, he would get hit even more.

When Kirké was around, he had to be careful not to get caught when he was being punished, and after Kirké disappeared, he was just bored and took the hits.

‘Compared to that time…’

Historically, booths were quickly built for living in the wildEreness, so he finished it in no time.

The wood was already prepared, so there was nothing to hinder him.

It was large enough for a three-person family, meaning everyone living in the hut could fit inside.

The witch, supported by Eren, entered the booth and laid down.

To prevent the witch’s frail body from getting hurt, several layers of fur blankets were piled on top.

Arzen lay down next to her.

The draft was cold, and the interior was cramped, forcing them to stick close together.

On top of that cold, the chill from the night before setting out for the Flowing Desert mingled with it.

Memories of the days when he fell asleep crying in the stable, surrounded by the smell of horse manure, resurfaced.

Arzen had thought there was no light in his life back then.

But Lord Rodenkal had come and disproved that notion. He wiped away those tears.

- I have chosen you.

He had never been chosen in his life.

With those few words, “You have been chosen.”

“…”

Arzen curled up further beneath the booth. He felt tears welling up again, but the emotions were different this time.

‘Back then, that single drop of tear expressed a despair I couldn’t articulate or reveal; now, it’s…’

Snow began to accumulate on the booth.

The dawn of the next day heralded the beginning of the new year.

It was the start of the New Year.