Volume 1 - CH 7.2

At the beginning of winter last year, the chief of the Blackrock Mountain Tribe, which had been hostile to the Salt Mountain Tribe for a very long time, sent a letter to Huwatu, the high priest of Utu and the chief of the Salt Mountain Tribe, expressing his desire to reconcile.

The Blackrock Mountain Tribe chief claimed that Utu, the sun god, had descended down to his dreams and ordered him to reconcile with the Salt Mountain Tribe, the first tribe of the Northlands, and seal their promise of harmony with a matrimonial alliance.

He sent over a broken bow and a broken bronze scimitar alongside his letter as proof of his desire for reconciliation, and he also apologized for the Blackrock Mountain Tribe’s continued tolerance of the mining of divine stones. He also respectfully requested the high priest of Salt Mountain to visit the newly remodeled temple of Utu in Blackrock Mountain and officiate unity rites to celebrate their two tribes’ reconciliation.

The letter had asked for everyone in the chief of the Salt Mountain Tribe’s family to attend the rites. ‘I heard that your son will come of age when the spring equinox next year comes, and the daughters of the chief of the Blackrock Mountain Tribe, who are beautiful in both appearance and character, also came of age only recently, so what better way is there for our two tribes to reconcile if one of them captures your son’s heart and they are wed immediately? —nothing could please Utu more,’ the chief of the Blackrock Mountain Tribe had added in his letter.

There was enmity between the twelve rival tribes, but they all shared the pain of being shunned by foreigners for being beastmen and they were all the same in that it had been the man-eating eagle, the ancestor of the chief of the Salt Mountain Tribe, had taught them how to live like human beings.

Most importantly, the Blackrock Mountain Tribe’s request to hold rites in Utu’s name and form a matrimonial alliance was no different from vowing upon Utu’s name to reconcile. And the Northlanders, who worshiped Utu as their main god, considered breaking a vow made in Utu’s name to be the greatest of sins.

Huwatu had agonized for a very long time. He was happy about the offer to reconcile, but he was opposed to the idea of marrying Kuhn to a maiden from another tribe because the household of the chief of the Salt Mountain Tribe had always practiced intermarriage in order to preserve the man-eating eagle’s bloodline.

That being said, he could not ignore Utu’s dream oracle either. He convened the tribe elders to a council once he was done contemplating, and the council decided to accept all of the Blackrock Mountain Tribe’s requests. Kuhn, who was just about to come of age, also accepted his marriage without a word because it was Utu’s command.

Huwatu took his whole family to Blackrock Mountain a week later.

They were treated well at Blackrock Mountain for ten days. They were fed ample dried fruits, meat, cheese, butter, and honeycombs, and the Blackrock Mountain Tribe poured out an endless stream of fermented goat milk, beer, and wine for them.

The chief of the Blackrock Mountain Tribe’s two daughters wore purple kaunakes with five layers, gorgeous shawls, and headpieces with flowers sewn into them as they greeted their guests every day. The atmosphere had been cordial and friendly until the day that the people of the Salt Mountain Tribe finally let down their guard and climbed up to the temple in order to perform the rites.

“We worship Utu no longer!”

Kuhn’s family was suddenly surrounded by dozens and hundreds of warriors as soon as those words were spoken.

“We worship Armanu and Kittu of the Golden Forest now!”

“And now, we will eliminate your lineage and the Northlanders of Salt Mountain and take over your fertile lands, just as the Golden Forest asked!”

A terrible massacre had taken place before the altar. It hadn’t even been a proper fight. Huwatu and his family were unarmed because they had entered a temple, and the warriors who guarded them could not break through the siege of the hundreds of warriors and people of Blackrock Mountain who surrounded them, and they were slaughtered.

But Kuhn survived. Kahala, who had been standing outside of the temple, had desperately broken through the siege to hand her son, who had been fighting with only his bare fists, his axe, and then she had fallen on the spot. Kuhn saw his parents, his younger sibling, and his fellow warriors with whom he had overcome the trials of life and death lying strewn about the ground as he broke through the cloud of people surrounding him with nothing but a single axe and fled. He had calmly determined that the Salt Mountain Tribe would lose its cornerstone and be massacred by the Blackrock Mountain Tribe if he were to die here too, and he gave up on the idea of dying like a dog while trying to save his family. He was the one and only survivor of the chief’s household, and he was responsible for keeping his tribe safe.

A blizzard was raging outside. He was drenched in blood, and there was a spearhead lodged into his thigh. He could not take it out on his own because it hurt so much every time he touched it that he thought he might faint. And he knew that blood would begin pouring out of the wound like a deluge and he would bleed to death if it pulled it out anyway.

He endured the agony of his flesh being torn apart as he just barely managed to reach the entrance to the cypress forest that stood on the border between Salt Mountain and Blackrock Mountain and hid himself. It was only then that he finally turned back to look at Blackrock Mountain and shed tears of blood as he vowed,

“You swore upon the name of Utu, the Glory of Light, so I shall do the same —I will repay for you everything you’ve done! I will offer up all your lives as sacrifices to satisfy Utu, who rights what is wrong and makes all things fair! May your corpses overflow atop his altar!”

Then, he looked up at the snowy skies and shouted,

“I swear upon the name of Utu, the god of light and justice, that I will repay you for murdering us in Utu’s name. You pledged to massacre our tribe, so I, too, pledge to do the same to you!”

Swoosh, woosh, the winds howled like wailing ghosts as Enlil’s whip beat sharply against his body. Kuhn shuddered from the chill and the pain before he turned back to the heavens and cried out,

“By Utu’s name, I, Kuhn of Salt City, hereby swear to slaughter everything that lives on Blackrock Mountain, from the household of the chief of the Blackrock Mountain Tribe to newborn slaves and even to the livestock in your pens, without sparing a single one. I swear this upon the name of Utu, the sun god whom I worship…….”

He couldn’t get the words out properly because his body was shaking and his throat was choking up. He fell to his knees where he stood.

He couldn’t understand. If Utu truly governed over light and justice, then it was only right that the god sent down a giant pillar of fire from the heavens and massacre everyone in the city right this instant. It was only right that the god mobilized the warriors of fire and light to destroy the city and break it to pieces. Why did the great gods always remain so silent even as their own names were insulted so?

Kuhn found it dreadful that his entire household had been slaughtered under the pretext of his marriage, and he felt like his body was being ripped apart as he thought about his mother, who had willingly chosen death just so he could survive. And the responsibility he felt when he thought about his duty to keep the people of Salt City safe pressed down upon him so heavily he thought his lungs might explode.

He bent over and began beating his chest. His breathing came out in sputtering gasps, but he did not cry. Even tears were a luxury to him right now. He was the sole survivor of the chief’s household, and he had the duty to survive until the bitter end and repay everything that had been done to him.

“……There will be neither funerals nor dirges until everything is over. I will neither indulge in feasts to make me merry, spoil myself in dances and songs to console me, nor receive any women to make me happy. May Utu’s rage and curse fall upon me if I do. There shall be nothing and no one for me until everything is over. Nothing!”

It took a while before Salt Mountain heard the news. The people were stunned to hear that Huwatu, their chief, Kahala, their entire household, and their warriors had all been massacred.

Kuhn had escaped, but he had not only already been gravely wounded as he fled but he hadn’t returned even after two weeks had passed since his disappearance, and everyone thought that he was dead. The people of Salt City couldn’t even go looking for him on their anmars because Enlil’s whip, the storm of snow, was still raging fiercely.

The people who safeguarded Salt City during the emergency situation were Ningalsarbat, the wise old woman who was also the greatest doctor in the Northlands and Kuhn’s nanny, Simug, her husband, the rest of the five great elders, and the rest of Salt City’s greatest warriors who had remained in the city and who were also Kuhn’s closest friends.

They closed the city gates, gathered the warriors, and prepared to defend the city as they waited for the Blackrock Mountain Tribe to attack.

It was three weeks later when Kuhn finally returned. He neither shed tears nor flew into a rage as he informed the people who were clinging to him while wailing that everyone else beside him had perished in Blackrock City. Then, he calmly ordered,

“Prepare the cows and sheep. I will offer a rite to Utu and ask him to bring judgement and justice upon them. I will pay them back for this hundredfold to make right these wrongs, and I will offer their unjust blood to as a sacrifice to the god of light and justice.”

And all the people knew that the air about Kuhn had changed completely.

Kuhn climbed up to the temple at the heart of Salt Mountain and officiated his first rite in his late father’s stead. He personally butchered twelve bulls, piled up their flesh and bones, and drowned the altar in their blood before he turned to the sun and began shouting at the top of his lungs. He made it known to all that he was the new chief of Salt City and high priest of Utu, the sun god, that he would regain Utu’s honor by punishing the heretics of Blackrock Mountain for insulting Utu’s name and for murdering innocent people, and that he would shine down the light of justice, over which Utu presided, like it was the light of the sun.

The other ten tribes sent their warriors to Salt City. Then, they assembled together an elite unit comprised only of those warriors who knew how to handle anmars.

And, on the day of the spring equinox, the first day of the new year, Kuhn led the warriors to Blackrock Mountain for battle.

Kuhn was the first to arrive and he landed in front of Blackrock City’s gates. It had been nearly two months since his family and colleagues had been murdered, yet their corpses were still hanging from the ramparts and being pecked at by birds.

Kuhn took up his bow and nocked an arrow. Unlike the other tribes or foreign nations, the warriors of Salt City used compound bows that had been crafted while using multiple materials, and Kuhn’s bow in particular was so powerful that most people could not even pull its string.

His arrows never missed their mark, and he pierced straight through the birds and eagles who were pecking at the corpses and he brought down the corpses one by one.

“Hey, what the hell is that bastard over there doing?!”

“You bastard! Who are you?! How did you get here?!”

The gatekeepers at the gates to Blackrock City and other warriors who had been standing guard shouted as they began rushing out. But they collapsed to the ground after only a few steps when Kuhn’s arrows rained down upon them.

The soldiers of Blackrock Mountain, who had been rushing outside while shooting arrows, stopped in their tracks as dozens of their vanguard were felled almost instantaneously. Their arrows could not reach Kuhn, yet Kuhn’s arrows were lodging in their chests. They grew bewildered as they realized the difference and range between Kuhn’s arrows and theirs, and they quickly began backtracking.

Kuhn threw aside his empty quiver and his bow. The lava that had been bubbling inside him finally roared as it poured down into his arms and legs.

He drew the axe he had been carrying on his back and held his shield firmly in his hand. Clang —his right arm drew a wide arc as an arrow bounced off his shield, and two warriors who had made it close to him lost their heads.

“Come out! All of you, come out! Come out and wield your blades again as you did back then without realizing the cowardice of your actions! I dare you to tell me that you worship Utu no longer!”

“…….”

“I will repay the injustice you caused under Utu’s name with the justice that I have sworn upon Utu’s name! Come out!”

He was wearing a newly commissioned helmet and sturdy leather armor with heavy sheet metal plates and wielding a heavy shield and axe as he rampaged like he was consumed by madness.

Anyone who blocked his path had their heads or limbs sent flying in a spray of blood. Neither shield, blade, nor armor could stop the frightening force behind his axe, and the short and light arrows shot by the terrified archers could not penetrate through his shield or armor.

Clang, clang —the bell at the city’s peak threatened to shatter as it tolled. People who had not been able to equip themselves properly were running out from every direction. Some warriors fought back with scimitars, spears, or clubs, but the majority of the people of Blackrock City were too busy trying to flee.

Kuhn raced ahead like a soaring eagle, and he was as ferocious as a savage beast who had smelled blood. No one survived more than one blow from him. Everything before his eyes that moved was sundered by his axe.

The soldiers who were defending the chief’s house lost their will to fight when they saw that none of their offenses nor defenses were working against Kuhn. The scales of battle tipped sharply as even the chief’s closest warriors turned tail and tried to flee.

Kuhn kept his promise to Utu. He slaughtered the chief of the Blackrock Mountain Tribe, who had conspired with the Southlands and the Golden Forest, the chief’s wife, the chief’s elderly mother, the chief’s children, and the warriors who defended the city —he killed everything before his eyes that lived. He had no reason to hesitate because he had no reason to stop and discern whether they deserved to die, and nothing could stop him.

The warriors of Salt City finally reached the castle ramparts and saw that someone had thrown the firmly shut gates wide open. A large man who was drenched in blood was pointing at them as his eyes flashed white. The only thing about him that wasn’t crimson were his eyes, which were glistening with bloodlust, and his teeth, which he bared as he laughed.

“It’s a demon!”

“……I-it’s the lion of Ereshkigal!”

The warriors were accustomed to hunting and fighting, but they could not help that their hairs began standing on edge. He stared at the warriors before him and ordered,

“Don’t spare even a single life. If you spare even a single one of those dogs, then you shall pay for it with your own lives.”

The people of Blackrock City were seized with terror as they watched Kuhn fight and had already lost their will to fight back. What was waged against the terrified people was not a battle but a massacre.

A full day passed before the massacre was finally over. They gathered all the corpses at the center of the city and set the entire city aflame, reducing it to ruins. Blood dyed the earth black, and crimson rivers of blood flowed in the streets for days.

Kuhn stood at the heart of the devastated Blackrock City, piled up the corpses, and offered up a rite to Utu. He raised his hands up toward the sun, which was slowly setting over the ravine, and he declared that he had restored the sun god’s honor, made right what was wrong, and exercised justice.

Then, he turned to the other tribe chiefs that had gathered around him and proclaimed that he would defend the White Salt Mountains from the Golden Forest and the Southlands, which had schemed injustice against the Northlands, and he informed anyone who opposed to go home and prepare for his attack.

Two days later, the ten tribe chiefs unanimously crowned the young master of Salt City as the lugal, the king over the alliance between the eleven tribes of the Northlands.

Then, several days afterward, Kuhn collected the bones of his dead family, household members, and of the warriors who had been close to them into an urn and buried it in a cave deep inside the Whitesalt Mountains. And the people of Salt City and the eleven chiefs let down their hair and clawed at their bodies for the innocent lives that had been lost as they lamented for ten days straight.

***

“And that’s how the lugal unified the Northlands. It was hard, but everyone’s been comforted by the fact that Utu was satisfied by the lugal’s actions and prepared a suitable eresh (which means queen) for him in the boudoir.”

……Eresh? Boudoir? What is he talking about?

Renier listened to the gatekeep in a blank daze before she began quivering and clung to her walking staff.

“T-the lugal got married? T-to who……?”

“How could you not know something that even puppies know here in the Northlands? Our lugal welcomed the most beautiful lady in the Northlands to the boudoir just a few months ago, and a cute little royal heir will be born to them before winter.”

“There’s no way that news of a royal pregnancy wouldn’t be a cause for celebration, since the lugal isn’t just the firstborn son of the very first household of the Northlands but also because his household was nearly annihilated.”

A royal pregnancy? And what’s that supposed to be about?

And the baby will be born before winter?

Renier couldn’t comprehend what she’d just heard no matter how hard she tried. But there was just one thing that she did understand.

The most beautiful lady in the Northlands. The most beautiful lady. The most beautiful.

The white city seemed to be crumbling before her eyes.

……Right. I always knew that you’d like beautiful women.

But I’m not exactly ugly either, Kuhn. You just never had the chance to see me, but people have always told me that I’m pretty ever since I was a child. If I washed off the mud on my face and grew out my hair, then even I…….

Renier was so astounded by the voice that immediately began clamoring inside her head that she couldn’t help but laugh.

My word. You’ve lost your mind, Renier. You’re crazy.

She’d been planning to ask him why he had betrayed her and stabbed her in the back, planning to pompously return his axe to him while saying, “I’d rather you just kill me quicker than die a slow and wretched death!”, but to think that he was married. And to the most beautiful lady in the Northlands at that. She realized just how ridiculous she was for coming all this way with even his axe in tow.

The gatekeepers were too busy bragging about their king and making merry amongst themselves to notice that Renier’s eyes were filled with tears as she giggled.

“Did you hear that the marriage gifts that the other tribes sent to celebrate the royal wedding were piled up so high that they reached the boudoir’s ceiling?”

“They’ve been so happy together that they say that the lugal has practically holed himself up in the eresh’s boudoir. His axe has been growing rust, apparently.”

“I heard that his subordinates had repeatedly advised him not to sour the eresh’s mood and to tiptoe around her. There’s no mistaking it, since my cousin told me himself. Even the high and mighty lugal can’t lift a single finger in front of his eresh.”

“Isn’t that how it always works? It’s the inevitable fate of every man, whether he’s a lowly bastard like us or the lugal over the eleven tribes who unified the Northlands, to have to be mindful of his pregnant wife’s mood.”

“The lugal might actually pretty used to it too. The late Lady Kahala was no joke either. Besides, every man in the chief’s household inherited the inability to keep his wits before his queen —why would the lugal be any different?”

“Hey, are you badmouthing our lugal in front of someone from another tribe? All great warriors need to rest after a large battle, and I’m sure he’s happy that the eresh will bear him a cute child soon enough.”

Renier couldn’t stand to listen to this any longer. Her legs gave out, and she sank down right as the gatekeepers were watching. Hee hee, hehehehe. Renier looked up at the blindingly white ramparts as she cackled.

What was I hoping for when I came all the way here? Did I want him to grow flustered and apologize to me?

No. The truth, the truth that she really didn’t want to acknowledge, was that she had only wanted to see that asshole’s face just one more time.

And the other truth was much more wretched than the first. The place where the ungrateful fool, who was the descendant of a man-eating eagle, lived was actually this lovely city, and inside this city was a gorgeous boudoir made from rock salt, and in the boudoir resided the most beautiful queen in all the Northlands, and the bastard held the queen in his arms and planted his seed inside her every night, and his seed had taken root and was beginning to grow inside her womb, and his child would be born in a few months’ time.

…Is it because you don’t want this beautiful lady to know about a wench like me? Because you’re afraid that your beautiful lady might chase you out of her bedroom if she learns that you briefly gave your affections to a slave wench from an enemy land? Because she might start nagging you? Because she might slap you across the face?

Is that why you personally came to find me in that cave with your axe?

— I will be honest with you. I despised what we did last night. It was unspeakably dishonorable and shameful, and I never want to think about it ever again.

Tears slowly began falling from Renier’s eyes. The voice that she had so desperately buried away every time it cropped up resounded ever so vividly in her ears.

Something dishonorable and shameful, was it? Sure. From your perspective, I basically forced you to sleep with me in return for saving your life, so I can see why you’d feel like I raped you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay? It was selfish of me.

But then you should’ve just turned me down from the get go —why are you chasing after me so persistently and trying to kill me when you were the one who consented? You could’ve just seen it as the price you paid to save your life and cursed at me! Is it because you just couldn’t forget about what happened? Or were you just afraid that I’m come all the way to Salt City to find you and run my mouth?

She couldn’t even deny it. After all, Renier had, in fact, come all the way to Salt City to see him and speak her mind to him, wretchedly enough.

I should never have come here. I should never have learned about any of this. I should never had seen him slaughtering the grave robbers with so much bloodlust in his face. I could’ve been eager, thrilled, and happy for a very long time if only I hadn’t.

No. It was for the best that I saw him exuding so much bloodlust, and it was for the best that I learned about the harsh truth. I would’ve had lingering feelings for him forever otherwise, and I might’ve done something stupid because of it.

Renier had nowhere left to stay in the Northlands. There was only one reason why she had lived in these bleak lands to begin with. She was a runaway slave from the Golden Forest, she had a slave’s brand on her chest, and the brand was enchanted with a ngak of fire —a terribly painful curse that activated when a slave ran away from the Golden Forest. The Northlands, the lands of the cursed beasts, was the only place where ngaks, the holy power belonging to the priests of the Golden Forest, did not work.

But now she couldn’t even stay in the Northlands anymore. And if she couldn’t stay here, then she had no other choice but to go back. She would have to return to the Golden Forest, the sinister lands of the priests that had branded her in the first place, if she didn’t want the ngak to activate.

Renier wiped away her tears against the back of her hands as she stood back up. The axe on her back suddenly felt unbearably heavy now that both her dreams and her fantasies had vanished from her. It was nothing more than a nuisance now —she couldn’t even use it as an excuse to see him anymore. Renier unwrapped it and held it out to the large-bodied gatekeeper.

“I have a favor to ask. Can you please deliver this to the lugal if you happen to see him one day?”

“What is this?”

“Some woman I met on my way here asked me to give this to the chief of Salt City if I ever found myself here.”

The gatekeeper tilted his head to the side as he accepted the axe. He knew that his lugal favored axes. So he didn’t think that the kid was talking nonsense.

Renier didn’t even ask the gatekeeper to promise that he would deliver the axe. The damned thing kept tormenting her by digging up emotions that she should throw away like they were trash, so she wanted to throw away the damned thing like it was trash too, just like her emotions.

“Hey, kid. What was the woman’s name? What should I tell him when I give him the axe?”

Her eyes began welling up again. I would’ve just told him my name ages ago if I knew that things were going to end up  like this. That way, he’d at least think of me from time to time. When he asked me for my name, I should’ve just told him, “Kuhn, my name is Renier. I’m the same age as you. I’m from a place in the boondocks called Elde Isle.” He would’ve at least smiled for me innocently if I had.

But it’s pointless now. He’s trying so desperately to erase his memories of me —no, he’s trying to erase my entire existence.

“I don’t know either, Mister. I just happened to meet her on the road, and it’s not like I actually knew who she was. You can keep the axe for yourself if you don’t have any reason to see the lugal, or you can just throw it away too.”

“Why?”

“……Well, that woman’s dead.”

The large gatekeeper dropped his jaw and swallowed back the words he had been about to say when he saw that Renier was crying again. She’s dead, she’s dead. She went and kicked the bucket, and that’s why she can’t come here to snap at you for breaking your promise, why she can’t come here and demand to know why you betrayed me and stabbed me in the back……. Renier continued,

“You can just throw the axe away if it’s too much trouble. Or sell it to a blacksmith, I guess,”

Renier repeated as she rubbed her tears away again. But they kept flowing down to her cheeks no matter how much she rubbed and rubbed. The gatekeeper’s mouth was still agape as he accepted the dark and stained axe with both hands.

“I’ll deliver this to the Lugal as soon as I see him.”

“No. Don’t do that.”

She needed enough time to have a good head start just in case he decided to chase after her. Just yesterday she had wanted so dearly to see Kuhn again, and she had come all the way to Salt City come hell or high waters just to use his axe as an excuse to see his face again, but now she had to go on the run again so he wouldn’t split her head open with the very same axe.

“A week, seven weeks, seven months, no…….”

Only after enough time has passed that that moron finally forgets about me completely.

“Please deliver it to him after seven or even seventy years. That should be enough time…….”

Renier lowered his head without being able to finish her sentence. Her tears were pouring so uncontrollably now that she could no longer keep them in check. The gatekeepers cleared their throat awkwardly, but Renier was grateful that they didn’t ask her any questions.

It was only a day after she had left Salt City that Renier realized that she had forgotten to return the necklace. But she couldn’t go all the way back just to return it. She’d likely be dragged inside the gates immediately if the gatekeeper had delivered the axe to Kuhn immediately like he’d promised.

It took two whole weeks before Renier fully crossed the White Salt Mountains and made it to the Southlands border. It had taken two whole weeks for her tears to finally dry, and she had repeatedly buried the black stone, then dug it back up, then buried it again, then dug it back up again for two whole weeks too. She felt so wretched and miserable every time she dug it back up again that she clutched the muddy stone in her hands and screamed curses.

The smell of blood lingered ever so faintly on the stone, which had been drenched in his blood. Just smelling it brought tears to her eyes again. For two whole weeks, all the water and salt in her body leaked out from her eyes and melted into Salt Mountain.

The circular, tree-shaped brand in her chest began burning as soon as she crossed the border into the Southlands. Renier realized that the ngak, cast by a priest from the Golden Forest, had activated as she was met with an relentless pain that burned into her flesh every second of the day.

She would never be freed from these horrible chains unless the caster of the ngak lifted it for her, and it would only take three days for the ngak cast over the brand to burn its way to her heart. She had been branded so that she could never leave the Golden Forest, and she would have to return to the Golden Forest within three days.

Renier stole a horse from Ninurgal City, a city near the border, and began heading straight for the Golden Forest.

It took three days to reach the Golden Forest from the Whitesalt Mountains on horse.

***

“Ahh, ugh, ughhh!”

Reneir clutched her chest as she clawed the earth. The pain worsened the closer she got to the Golden Forest.

She tied up the horse’s reins, crouched down next to a tree, and scratched at her chest. It felt like a fire-hot iron was pressing down on her all the time, and it continued to dig deeper into her flesh.

“Lord Gishzida, Lord Gish……it hurts! It hurts! Please save m……ngh, ahhh! Ugh!”

It had been three years since his name had last fallen from her lips. En-ishib Gishzida was a high-ranking priest of the Golden Forest. Renier sobbed as she cried out his name.

“I should’ve just rammed my head into that bear’s axe that day instead of hiding in the tree if this was how I was going to end up!”

Renier was flooded with regret. I won’t regret dying, but I don’t want to die in so much pain. Renier struggled as she bashed her head against a rock. She would rather break her own head open and die that way.

But Renier was made to know once again that it was difficult to kill yourself. She thought that she’d bashed her head against the rock pretty hard, but it didn’t even bleed, though it did hurt a ton. Apparently, bashing her own head against a rock could not compare to having a rock from a cave ceiling fall on her head.

Argh, I’m gonna go crazy. I’m not even halfway to the Golden Forest yet. I have to endure this for two more days?

But no. She probably wouldn’t need to bear this for two whole days. She felt like the fire would melt her heart as soon as tomorrow.

Renier grasped her chest tightly as she desperately began to think. Renier was a runaway slave from the Golden Forest, and the priests would kill her immediately if she was caught lurking around the forest. And they wouldn’t give her a nice and clean death either —they’d kill her in the most horrible way possible.

Renier shuddered as she recalled the gruesome way that her fellow slaves had been ripped apart to death. But the pain would only grow worse if she didn’t go back to the Golden Forest, and her heart would melt down and kill her in just one or two days’ time.

She only had three options available to her unless she could somehow manage to live out the rest of her days in the Golden Forest without being found by anyone. First, she was caught by the priests of the Golden Forest and ripped apart to death; second, she didn’t go to the Golden Forest and died once her heart melted; and third, she went back to the Northlands and died by axe.

……Seriously, why are my options always so shitty?

Think, Renier. Is it possible for me to live in hiding without being seen by anyone after I reach the Golden Forest? How many years can I last in that place swarming with priests? Renier couldn’t help but envy Sedek and Kish for dying without ever realizing that they were about to die —they probably hadn’t even felt any pain.

Renier.

Then, she suddenly began hallucinating a faint voice in the wind.

Renier, Renier?

The neighing of a horse and the trotting of its hooves drummed gently against her eardrums. Her horse, which had been sleeping while tied to the tree, raised its head and began looking around.

Renier clutched at her chest and gasped for air as she also surveyed her surroundings. She saw one, two, three, or maybe more people galloping over to her on their horses.

“Renier!”

A tiny voice, as faint as the beating of an insect’s wings, pricked her ears like a needle. It was a familiar voice. Renier broke out in a cold sweat through her dizziness.

She grasped her chest and staggered up to her feet. She was sure of it. Two —no, three— people were racing toward her on horseback. And she could see the person who was at the head of the group. Renier had good vision, and she could see him.

“……L-Lord Gishzida?”

Renier swiftly stepped back. Her heart squeezed. The mere fact that he had recognized her made it hard for her to breathe. Renier quickly turned around and tried to run, but then a giant flame erupted beside her with a pow.

“Ack!”

Pow! Pow pow! Two more flames erupted nearby, and Renier heard a loud swoosh before the leaves and branches from the tree above her head were cut off and fell down all at once. Renier realized that this was a warning and immediately stopped in her tracks.

“It’s been a while, Renier.”

He raised a hand and had the people behind him step back. It was only after the people serving him were far away that he slowly steered his horse and made his way over to Renier. The priest of the Golden Forest wasn’t very accustomed to horses, and his breathing was ragged because he’d been riding for a while, and he pressed one hand against his side while looking like he was in pain.

“I never imagined even in my wildest dreams that you of all people would turn your back to me and flee. Though as suppose you’re still as clever as ever, seeing how you stopped as soon as you understood my warning.”

She could finally hear his voice clearly. His voice was as sweet and gentle as honey, just as it had been three years ago, but it was shaking, like a snake that had been swept away by a wave, perhaps because he was out of breath. Renier took one, then two, steps back before she finally cracked her lips into a smile.

She couldn’t escape. The ngak cast on her brand had activated, and she could not break free from its power if she wasn’t in the Northlands.

And the man standing right before her very eyes was the only person in the world who could lift the ngak.

Gishzida, an en-ishib of the Golden Forest.

His blindingly white clothes, the golden embroidery on his long sleeves, the various jewels embedded into his waistband, the multiple divine stone bracelets hidden beneath his sleeves, the round hat worn only by high-ranking priests of the Golden Forest, and the array of his blindingly blond hair, as golden as if it had been spun from actual gold, that scattered beneath it. He gathered his ragged breath as he quietly scolded,

“I told you to come back in three days. I told you to come back in three days without fail. And you promised me that you would. Do you remember?”

“……Yes.”

“So why has it taken you three years to come back? Did you never once stop to think about how desperately I’ve been waiting for you?”

Renier abandoned all thoughts of escaping and fell to her knees. It was impossible for her to flee from him. And it hurt so much now that she actually felt like her heart was finally melting away. Renier clutched her brand and quivered as she greeted the man sitting on his horse before her.

“Lord En-Ishib……Gishzida.”

“So it looks like you at least haven’t forgotten my name yet,”

he spat out as he jumped down from his horse. Renier prostrated before him and trembled as she heard his footsteps growing nearer. Then, he took Renier by the shoulder and helped her up. His face was drenched in sweat and his features were crumpled, and he looked so unfamiliar to her like this. His voice sounded suppressed as he quietly asked,

“Were you hiding in the Whitesalt Mountains?”

“Yes.”

“So the ngak wouldn’t activate?”

“……Yes.”

“It must’ve been difficult.”

His brows furrowed heavily as he smacked his tongue. He used his hand, which was covered in divine stone bracelets, to push aside Renier’s clothes and found the brand on the left side of her chest. Renier squeezed her eyes shut and waited. It hurt so much that she couldn’t even feel anything as his cold fingers buried against her chest.

He pressed his finger hard against the circular, tree-shaped brand over Renier’s heart and recited an en (words that activate ngak).

“Tab Guea Esh Anba.”

And the agony stopped, as if it had never been there to begin with, as soon as the command, ‘manifest three days later’ fell from his lips. All that was left inside Renier’s body was a chill that ran down her spine and some dizziness. Renier shuddered as she blinked.

“……Lord Gishzida?”

A chillingly beautiful face was staring at her from right before her very eyes. His skin that was as fair and smooth as goat’s milk, his sapphire eyes, his lips that were as pink and the dew falling off poppy flowers, and his hair that was like a waterfall of melted gold. Priests of the Golden Forest were called the descendants of Kittu and Armanu, Celestials, heavenly gods who dwelt on earth, and demi-gods, and they all possessed an otherworldly beauty.

He looked down at Renier after he had withdrawn his hand and put her clothes back in place. Then, his fair and slender fingers slowly caressed her cheek. His brows ever so gently furrowed.

“Your pretty face has become quite the mess. What happened to your face?”

Renier looked up at him, but she quickly averted her eyes as she grew bewildered. Barely visible tears were welling in his eyes. And Gishzida wasn’t even trying to hide them. He continued,

“I…..I tried so hard not to believe that you’d died.”

But why, Lord Gishzida?

Renier looked up again and was about to ask, but then she closed her mouth. The clear droplets of water welling in his eyes were threatening to fall.

“I waited. I waited, just like I promised you I would. I thought my blood would dry up as I waited for you these past three years. And yet, you were hiding from me in the Whitesalt Mountains.”

One of them finally fell. The transparent droplet of water traced the lines of his cheek and chin before it finally plopped to his feet. Renier couldn’t breathe. One step, the two —he stepped forward as Renier stepped back, and then he took another step. And slowly, Renier’s head was buried in his arms.

“L-Lord Gishzida?!”

“Stay still for just a moment.”

His hands gently patted Renier’s head and back. His entire being was drenched in sweat, and his heart was thumping against Renier’s cheek. He continued,

“I just needed to make sure. That you’re really still alive and not just a hallucination.”

The broken words he uttered between his short and ragged breaths drove themselves painfully into Renier’s flesh. Gishzida, Lord Gishzida. Lord Gishzida. The name that she could not speak aloud circled like crazy behind her lips. And his human breaths were sucked into the vortexes of her ears.

“Never forget. You offered me your life, and you vowed to be mine, Renier.”