Chapter 112
Chapter 112
Chapter 112
The diligent men and women who were heavily engaged in their livelihoods were the first to convert to Solarism. The last to convert were the warriors and the elderly.
The young of Marldalen, instead of offering the blood of livestock to Ulgaro, went to the Sun Temple and the shrine. They prayed at noon and thanked the sun god.
"People these days are forgetting Ulgaro," a scarred old man lamented. He was surrounded by villagers who still believed in Ulgaro.
The old man slaughtered a sheep and collected its blood in a bowl to use as an offering to Ulgaro.
"Northerners believing in Lou, how absurd is that?"
There were people in Marldalen who still worshipped Ulgaro. They held separate rituals from the followers of Solarism.
Religious conflicts were common in any northern village. Lou was a god too tempting to reject. Lou was different from Ulgaro, who accepted slaughter and blood as offerings.
Sometimes, the conflicts escalated, leading villagers to kill each other. In such cases, the Sun Warriors or the Imperial Army intervened, actively protecting the Solarists.
"Ulgaro, please forgive my daughter," Sven pleaded, smearing the blood of the animal on his face. He participated in the northern rituals with others in Marldalen who still believed in Ulgaro. It was a ritual for the winter hunt as many hunters still remained faithful in Ulgaro.
"One day, Ulgaro will resurrect and lead the northern warriors. When that day comes, those who believed in Solarism will regret it. The day of judgment is not far off," one of the hunters said.
Hunters needed Ulgaro's blessing for a successful hunt. He disapproved of the increasing number of Lou worshippers.
It was hard to stay strong in their faith in Ulgary. The northerners had been defeated in the war. The god of war lost to the god of benevolence. What meaning was left for a defeated god of war? The northerners lost more than just territory. They were losing their root and identity.
"Outsider sir, how many years has it been since you last came home?" the hunter asked Sven after finishing his ritual.
"Its been about five years."
"That's when the changes became more drastic. The sun priests roamed the north freely. A decade ago, it would have been unimaginable. A Sun priest in the north would have been torn limb from limb."
Sven laughed at the comment.
The onlookers also found it hard to believe the changes. The perceived eternal strength of the north had been shattered. Even those who tried to stay strong in resistance eventually succumbed, and the gifts of civilization tempted the northerners.
"It seems there are no longer warriors of Ulgaro in the north," Sven said with a bitter smile, standing up.
"Go to Mulin. The old north is still there."
The northerners dispersed after the ritual. Sven watched their backs. On the other side, people were going to and from the Sun Temple. It was a strange sight, seeing two gods existing in one place.
"Urich, we're leaving tonight," Sven told Urich upon returning to his daughters house. Urich, dozing in front of the fireplace, lifted his head.
"Oh? We should say our goodbyes then."
"No, we'll leave without farewells," Sven insisted firmly and shook his head.
"Youre gonna without saying goodbye? Are you still pouting about what happened the other day?"
"Just listen to me this time."
"Irene and Durigand are good people, Sven."
Urich genuinely thought so. During his three-day stay, he had been treated well. He would risk his life to fight for Irene and Durigand.
"I know that."
Sven went to bed without even eating dinner.
Urich, on the other hand, finished his dinner as usual, laughing and chatting. He couldnt quite fall asleep and opened his eyes deep into the night. There wasn't much to pack, as all he had were his weapons and a travel bag.
"Phew. Take care, Irene, Durigand."
Urich lowly whispered as he stepped outside, pulling his scarf up to his nose. The northern winter night was fiercely cold as if intent on killing a person. A blizzard raged in the distance.
'If this northern weather really is Ulgaro's will, then Ulgaro must indeed be a brutal and cruel god.'
Urich liked Ulgaro. He, like Sven, had grown up as a warrior. He had never considered a life other than that of a warrior. It was natural for Urich to be drawn to Ulgaro.
'Ulgaro is surely a god of warriors.'
But those who were not warriors could not endure Ulgaro's brutality.
"Sven."
Urich went to the barn. Sven's shadow peaked out of the barn.
Youre up, I was just about to wake you up."
Sven was loading luggage onto the horses. The horses wore quilted coats like armor, which was necessary for them to survive in the northern cold.
"Kylios, bear with it a little longer," Urich said as he stroked his horse.
Urich knew how to sense his horse's mood. Kylios disliked going out on a blizzard night.
Clop.
Urich and Sven rode out of Marldalen. A gate guard recognized them and simply nodded.
"Sven! The blizzard is worse than we thought! Lets head back for now!"
Urich raised his voice, stretching his hand forward, looking at the blizzard in the darkness.
"We've already left! We are going!"
"Where are we heading? I just followed you blindly!"
"To Gorigan! The place where I was born and raised!"
"Didnt you say there was nobody there anymore?"
"There should be new settlers."
Urich frowned. The blizzard made it impossible to see even a step ahead. Roars like Ulgaro's fury were heard intermittently.
We picked the wrong day to leave, this isnt good, Urich thought, glancing at Sven with a frown. Sven showed no intention of changing his mind.
"Hah," Urich sighed, brushing off the snow clinging to his face.
Wriggle.
Urich looked at Sven's horse, his pupils dilating as if piercing the darkness.
Something moved.
The load on Sven's horse squirmed. At first, Urich thought it was the blizzard shaking the load.
The load is moving.
Urich brought Kylios closer to Sven.
"Sven!"
Urich shouted, but his voice struggled to be heard over the blizzard.
"What's wrong?"
"What are you carrying back there? Did you steal a dog to eat on the way?"
"It's nothing. Dont worry about it. Lets just keep going."
Urich looked into Sven's eyes. Sven, a straightforward man, was not a good liar.
"Stop, Sven."
Urich jumped off his horse, drawing a dagger and cutting the straps on the load.
"Ugh, ugh."
Urich's lips twitched.
As Urich opened the fallen load, one gagged and bound Karha appeared. He was bound so tight that he couldnt move, and his eyes were filled with terror.
"Im going to raise Karha to be a true northern warrior," Sven declared as he dismounted his horse. Karha was his grandchild, a boy with his blood. The moment Sven saw him, he knew that Karha had to be raised as a warrior.
A warrior to offer blood and flesh to Ulgaro.
Sven picked up Karha from the ground. Urich's face twisted in disapproval.
"Do you think an old man like you who lived his entire life as a warrior can raise a child? You dont even know how much longer you have!
"I'll last as long as I can. This is whats right for Karha. Durigand is a warrior, but he doesn't intend to raise his child as one."
"Let's go back to the village. It's too stormy. You're doing this out of the sense of betrayal you felt. You won't do this once you cool down."
Urich patted Sven's shoulder. Sven brushed off Urich's hand, holding Karha tightly.
"This boy is my blood and he will surely become a great warrior! He will be a warrior just like you! I'll devote everything to earn Ulgaro's blessing for him. He'll be a warrior blessed by the gods, just like you! Im sure of it!
Sven took a few steps back, still holding Karha, ready to mount his horse.
"Sven..."
Urich trailed off, staring at Sven. He slowly drew his sword and the sound of his blade cut through the blizzard.
"Ulgaro, Lou, fuck all of that. Forget it! Theres only one thing I believe right now, and thats the fact that this kid needs to go back to his parents. What Karha needs is his parents. Not a senile grandfather!"
Sven put Karha down and reached behind his back for his axe and shield.
"Are you standing in my way? I dedicated myself to you in the mercenary squad! Is this how you repay me, Urich?"
Sven spread his arms, crying out.
"That's why I promised to send you to the Field of Swords."
Sven had always been a reliable man. In the mercenary squad, he had fully supported Urich, always siding with him no matter what the situation was like.
"Urich, please let me go. Im going to raise this child as a great warrior."
It was a plea, bending even his pride. Sven knew his limits. He was old and sick, while Urich was a warrior in his prime.
There is a light shining from Urich.'
Sven blinked to clear his blurry vision. To him, Urich was a dazzling warrior, unbound by anything, roaming the world relying only on his strength.
"I'm stopping you for your own good."
Urich extended his sword forward.
"What I want is to make this child a warrior! Thats what I need!"
"I dont care what you think. If you're a warrior, convince me with your strength."
"Uuuuurich!"
Sven shouted, spitting out blood. He coughed up blood clots from his throat and raised his axe.
Clang!
Urich swung his sword through the blizzard, his heavy steel blade striking Sven's shield.
'Heavy.'
Sven couldn't immediately counterattack. Urich's physical abilities were extraordinary, unlike any other man. Despite the forceful swing, he flawlessly continued his attacks without any gap between his swings.
"Huff!"
Sven blocked Urich's vision with his shield while swinging his axe, a strike coming from Urich's blindspot.
Clang!
Urich jumped to the side, dodging Sven's axe. Sven quickly turned his shield toward Urich after his attack attempt. The fight was intense, neither giving any opening.
Urich, the warrior blessed by the gods. I must finish this with the next strike. I can't hold out any longer.'
Sven gasped for breath. He was suffering from lung disease. But Urich didn't wait for Sven to catch his breath. This wasn't a friendly sparring match to gauge each others skills.
Claang!
Urich's sword clashed with Sven's axe. Urich's sword stuck to Sven's axe. Sven tried to move his axe, but Urich's sword was stuck fast.
Thump!
Urich headbutted Sven's head. Sven staggered backward. Urich then pushed him over with a kick.
Thud.
Sven fell helplessly. The cold metal of Urich's sword touched his neck.
"Let's send Karha back, Sven," Urich said with his sword at Sven's throat.
"That boy is my last hope. If you want to stop me, youll have to send me to the Field of Swords.
Sven slowly stood up. Urich's blade pressed against the leather covering his neck. Sven didn't care if the blade cut into his flesh. He stood up defiantly as if he was daring Urich to kill him.
Urich's face contorted. He had resolved to send Sven to the Field of Swords himself, but not like this. It felt utterly unsatisfying.
"Sigh."
Urich exhaled and planted his sword into the ground. Sven rushed to Karha's side.
"Thank you, Urich," Sven murmured.
"Let's see how well you raise the child as a great warrior after stealing him from his parents, you renowned warrior of the north! Fuck!"
Urich couldnt get himself to kill Sven right there and then. Sven was like a brother to him.
"Karha, you'll thank me later. I'll raise you as the greatest warrior of the north," Sven said, picking up Karha. He looked into Karha's eyes. The boy was shaking with fear.
Sven was a warrior of the north. Since childhood, he naturally engaged in raids and battles. When he was old enough to wield a weapon, he participated in raids. Life in the north was a struggle. To survive, one had to disregard the screams of others.
'One mustn't keep the pain and screams of others in their heart.'
Sven remembered the faces of warriors returning from raids, satisfied even after killing fellow men. It was the joy of being able to feed their families. Warriors sustained their families with the lives of others.
"Why am I..."
Sven fell to his knees, holding Karha, unable to look into the boy's eyes.
'The eyes of the plundered.'
Karha had the eyes of the plundered, and Sven was the raider. Sven was the raider taking everything from Karhahis family and lifeuprooting everything that the boy knew.
'This is wrong.'
A warrior never had to understand the pain and screams of others. But they were also those who raged for their family and brothers. They never ignored their family's pain.
"Guh, guuuuh."
Sven sat, scraping and squeezing the snow with his fingers. Despair deeper than his illness weighed heavily on his heart. He realized what he had done.
"Dammit, Sven. If youve finally come around, let's bring Karha back," Urich grumbled from behind.
"Urich, what should I do now? My offspring isn't a warrior, nor do they believe in Ulgaro. How can I possibly face my ancestors on the Field?"
Sven knelt and wailed. Then he stood up with his axe. He jumped and roared like a raging bear.
"Ulgaro!"
Sven brandished his axe in the air. His voice was lost in the blizzard. The blood he had tried to hold in trickled from his mouth.
"How long will you watch from that Field! When will you come down and save us! After all those who believe in you are gone? What were you doing when we spilled our blood against the empire! Is our blood and life still not enough for you?"
Sven vented his rage. After his outburst, he collapsed. A man as old as one could sit to cry like a child. His tears froze as soon as they touched the snow. The north did not accept the tears of a warrior.
Urich and Sven returned to the village before dawn.
Irene, holding Karha, sprawled all the curse words she knew at her father, and Durigand, who had fetched his weapon from the basement, swallowed a heavy silence.
"I'm sorry, Irene."
Sven had to leave the village without a farewell from his kin.
When the two men were far enough from the village for it to be a dot in the distance, Urich finally spoke.
"Sven, I just want to say one thing."
Sven looked up.
"Youve done this to yourself."
Urich smiled mischievously. Sven scowled.
"Dickhead."