Episode 6. Help Me, Lacrahan
Lacrahan raised an eyebrow.
Jeffrey picked up the bottle again, poured himself a drink, and said,
"On the battlefield. It was the Grand Duke who saved others' lives, when he could barely protect his own."
He set down the bottle, but three fingers were missing.
He raised them and showed them to Lacrahan.
"These are the ones I traded my life for. I don't regret a single thing."
If it weren't for Lacrahan, Jeffrey would have offered his head, not his fingers.
"When are we going to talk about enemies again?"
Lacrahan also picked up the goblet in front of him.
He was the King of the North, but unlike others, he didn't seek formality or authority. He still ate with his people, trained in the same place, as if this were a battlefield.
If anything happened in the village, he rolled up his sleeves and went to help.
"So what I'm saying is,"
Jeffrey leaned closer, his head squeezing in.
"That woman and the Grand Duke are exactly the same."
“...What?”
“Someone who steps forward to save those who no one else will. That’s the Grand Duke and that woman. To me, you look similar.”
Jeffrey, with a look that suggested he hadn’t noticed, stretched his philtrum and gulped down another drink.
In the room where darkness had fallen, Bercheria looked down at her hands alone.
She clenched and unclenched them a few times and saw droplets of water forming on them.
“My strength is slowly returning.”
At first, she could speak, then she could manipulate water a little.
And now, her self-healing ability had returned.
“Ha...”
Why on earth?
She couldn’t understand why this was happening, but one thing was certain.
Lacrahan.
Every time she got involved with that man, the strength she thought was gone forever returned.
What could he be?
“Is he perhaps someone with ice attributes?”
She tilted her head.
“I thought the lords of the North had ice attributes. Am I mistaken?”
Her muttering voice lacked confidence.
By law, Bercheria should have possessed all the information the previous Awakened had seen and heard. This was because the power of the Weather Goddess imprinted the records of their lives.
However, while trapped in the tower, she had lost not only her abilities but also her memories.
Memories, snipped away like scissors, would not return with time.
"I wish I had more information."
It was her mother who had taken all of this from her.
To Bercheria, her mother was her entire world, the only human she could connect with.
She knew she was destroying herself, but there was no other way than to endure it.
So when the opportunity to escape arose, she didn't look back.
Even though the most precious thing to her was within the tower, she didn't even dare to take it with her.
Returning, becoming a goddess, even the precious objects within the tower felt meaningless.
She no longer wanted to spend the rest of her life trapped in the tower.
The mere fact of breathing fresh air and feeling the green grass beneath her feet was enough to justify leaving what was hers.
She intended to live alone, without anyone knowing who she was.
But the moment she saw the children trapped in the flames, she instinctively knew.
She was born to protect her people and enrich them, and she could never escape that instinct.
Ultimately, she must return to the tower and retrieve what was hers.
Even if she were captured and imprisoned by her mother again, she had no choice but to return.
Bercheria recalled the moment she first met Tatiana.
“Are you an adult, sister? What kind of adult is hiding in the tree?”
“Your mother died, like ours?”
Yes.
“I wish my mother would disappear from this world.”
Bercheria knelt down and buried her head there.
“I don’t care who you are. Help me, Lavrahan.”
Her forehead felt hot against her dry skin.
Knock.
“Huh!”
A sudden knock startled Bercheria, and she looked up.
Her heart pounded, afraid that her mother might have come looking for her.
“I’m Lacrahan. Can I come in for a moment?”
“Ah.”
A thin breath escaped her pale face.
“May I come in for a moment?”
Lacrahan’s voice echoed in the quiet hallway.
The faint sound of a dress brushing against the doorway could be heard.
“Huh.”
Lacrahan exhaled softly.
He had spent quite a while here before knocking.
“Bercheria?”
He thought back and forth several times, but it didn’t make sense or make sense.
The goddess of weather, who had disappeared half a century ago, had appeared before him. There had been a time when everyone in the north had desperately longed for Bercheria.
Lacrahan, too, had hoped for her return and restored normalcy to this chaotic time.
Even as the people perished from the drought, as war broke out, and anyone with the strength to wield a sword was dragged to hell, he witnessed the brilliant lives of his knights being slaughtered before his eyes.
He had prayed fervently. It was a war that only she, she alone, could have prevented.
It was a well-known fact to everyone living in the land that even a god setting foot on the Periat Empire would unleash her protective powers.
“...?”
Lacrahan’s gaze suddenly sharpened.
“But why can’t I sense the protective aura now?”
If Bercheria were on this land, her aura should have reached every human.
“Strange.”
He realized he had been missing the most fundamental thing.
What if she hadn’t left in the first place, rather than being unable to return? Then, could it be that she had lost her powers...?”
Lacrahan's exceptional fighting prowess wasn't the only factor behind his victory in the war between the three continents.
Bringing a vast empire and kingdom to its knees with such talent alone was impossible.
Lacrahan instinctively knew how to see into the depths of humanity and how to use that to his advantage.
This was precisely why Emperor Gerard so vigilantly kept Lacrahan in check.
"Hey!"
As he walked briskly, a faint force ran up behind him and snatched his arm.
His vision spun around halfway, and his eyes filled with sparkling golden eyes.
The moment their eyes met, Lacrahan's brow furrowed.
"What?"
Her thin lips trembled in a pale face, as if she couldn't find the words to say.
Lacrahan raised his eyebrows, then sighed.
"If you have nothing to say, I'll go."
As he braced himself to turn around again, a flat voice rang out.
"Don't go..."
"What did you say?"
Bercheria exhaled slowly.
“Don’t go. You’re not in the wrong room.”
“Are you sure?”
The golden eye, which had been like a herbivore just moments before, was looking up at him with considerable irritation.
This time, he’d stop there.
Bercheria’s head tilted imperceptibly, like a young puppy trying to understand human language.
“If you waste my time like this again, there will be no more conversation.”
Lacrahan raised his smooth eyebrows again as if to remind her, then lowered them and walked ahead of her into her room.
“...!”
Bercheria stood there, quietly watching his back.
She’d thought the same thing before, but that man...
“...The more I see him, the more I dislike him.”
Everyone here was talking in unison about how good a person Lacrahan was.
Bercheria had thought so at first.
He was a kind northern lord, and he seemed like a good person who would take self-sacrifice for granted.
“Hah. A good person?”
Bercheria instinctively placed a hand on her neck.
The sensation of the knife touching her neck matched the temperature of the man's words moments ago with astonishing precision.
"No."
It was clear that everyone in this castle had been thoroughly deceived.
By that man.
Lacrahan raised an eyebrow.
Jeffrey picked up the bottle again, poured himself a drink, and said,
"On the battlefield. It was the Grand Duke who saved others' lives, when he could barely protect his own."
He set down the bottle, but three fingers were missing.
He raised them and showed them to Lacrahan.
"These are the ones I traded my life for. I don't regret a single thing."
If it weren't for Lacrahan, Jeffrey would have offered his head, not his fingers.
"When are we going to talk about enemies again?"
Lacrahan also picked up the goblet in front of him.
He was the King of the North, but unlike others, he didn't seek formality or authority. He still ate with his people, trained in the same place, as if this were a battlefield.
If anything happened in the village, he rolled up his sleeves and went to help.
"So what I'm saying is,"
Jeffrey leaned closer, his head squeezing in.
"That woman and the Grand Duke are exactly the same."
“...What?”
“Someone who steps forward to save those who no one else will. That’s the Grand Duke and that woman. To me, you look similar.”
Jeffrey, with a look that suggested he hadn’t noticed, stretched his philtrum and gulped down another drink.
***
In the room where darkness had fallen, Bercheria looked down at her hands alone.
She clenched and unclenched them a few times and saw droplets of water forming on them.
“My strength is slowly returning.”
At first, she could speak, then she could manipulate water a little.
And now, her self-healing ability had returned.
“Ha...”
Why on earth?
She couldn’t understand why this was happening, but one thing was certain.
Lacrahan.
Every time she got involved with that man, the strength she thought was gone forever returned.
What could he be?
“Is he perhaps someone with ice attributes?”
She tilted her head.
“I thought the lords of the North had ice attributes. Am I mistaken?”
Her muttering voice lacked confidence.
By law, Bercheria should have possessed all the information the previous Awakened had seen and heard. This was because the power of the Weather Goddess imprinted the records of their lives.
However, while trapped in the tower, she had lost not only her abilities but also her memories.
Memories, snipped away like scissors, would not return with time.
"I wish I had more information."
It was her mother who had taken all of this from her.
To Bercheria, her mother was her entire world, the only human she could connect with.
She knew she was destroying herself, but there was no other way than to endure it.
So when the opportunity to escape arose, she didn't look back.
Even though the most precious thing to her was within the tower, she didn't even dare to take it with her.
Returning, becoming a goddess, even the precious objects within the tower felt meaningless.
She no longer wanted to spend the rest of her life trapped in the tower.
The mere fact of breathing fresh air and feeling the green grass beneath her feet was enough to justify leaving what was hers.
She intended to live alone, without anyone knowing who she was.
But the moment she saw the children trapped in the flames, she instinctively knew.
She was born to protect her people and enrich them, and she could never escape that instinct.
Ultimately, she must return to the tower and retrieve what was hers.
Even if she were captured and imprisoned by her mother again, she had no choice but to return.
Bercheria recalled the moment she first met Tatiana.
“Are you an adult, sister? What kind of adult is hiding in the tree?”
“Your mother died, like ours?”
Yes.
“I wish my mother would disappear from this world.”
Bercheria knelt down and buried her head there.
“I don’t care who you are. Help me, Lavrahan.”
Her forehead felt hot against her dry skin.
Knock.
“Huh!”
A sudden knock startled Bercheria, and she looked up.
Her heart pounded, afraid that her mother might have come looking for her.
“I’m Lacrahan. Can I come in for a moment?”
“Ah.”
A thin breath escaped her pale face.
***
“May I come in for a moment?”
Lacrahan’s voice echoed in the quiet hallway.
The faint sound of a dress brushing against the doorway could be heard.
“Huh.”
Lacrahan exhaled softly.
He had spent quite a while here before knocking.
“Bercheria?”
He thought back and forth several times, but it didn’t make sense or make sense.
The goddess of weather, who had disappeared half a century ago, had appeared before him. There had been a time when everyone in the north had desperately longed for Bercheria.
Lacrahan, too, had hoped for her return and restored normalcy to this chaotic time.
Even as the people perished from the drought, as war broke out, and anyone with the strength to wield a sword was dragged to hell, he witnessed the brilliant lives of his knights being slaughtered before his eyes.
He had prayed fervently. It was a war that only she, she alone, could have prevented.
It was a well-known fact to everyone living in the land that even a god setting foot on the Periat Empire would unleash her protective powers.
“...?”
Lacrahan’s gaze suddenly sharpened.
“But why can’t I sense the protective aura now?”
If Bercheria were on this land, her aura should have reached every human.
“Strange.”
He realized he had been missing the most fundamental thing.
What if she hadn’t left in the first place, rather than being unable to return? Then, could it be that she had lost her powers...?”
A creak. A door frame creased in front of him. Lacrahan lowered his gaze to the gap between the opening doors, his forehead furrowed.
“A goddess who lost her powers...”
With that thought, all the scattered stories connected. What if she had lost her protective powers for some reason and was struggling to regain them?
Before Lacrahan could even finish his thoughts, a small face peeked out through the crack in the door. Bercheria opened the door just a hand's length, peeking her head through the gap to peer outside. Her blond hair swayed, swaying from her small head, revealing a dense crown.
"..."
Why hadn't he thought of this from the beginning? From her dirty attire to her fearful gaze, she looked lost to anyone.
"Hmm..."
But this was only his conjecture. To receive her help and grant her what she desired, he needed to verify this hypothesis. She was a god who had betrayed humanity and left. Letting down his guard could lead to even greater misfortune. He crossed his arms and leaned his shoulder diagonally against the doorframe.
"You're not planning to invite me in through that gap, are you?"
"..."
The face he looked up at in surprise was utterly terrified. Lacrahan let out a laugh without realizing it. Perhaps this woman forgets she's a god even more often than he does.
"I came to find a goddess who threatened me in the library this afternoon, and seeing how wary she is..."
"Hmm."
Lacrahan, his lips curled into a smile, turned and retraced his steps.
“I think I got the wrong room.”
His stride was wider than usual, moving without hesitation. He felt Bercheria hesitate behind him.
“You’re right. I’m not trying to make a deal with you.”
“I’m threatening you, Lacrahan.”
He hadn’t been able to tell her in the library, but no one in this world could threaten him. Lacrahan wasn’t that simple. So if this woman were really Bercheria, she would have to convince him thoroughly. She would have to maintain control, not be intimidated by him, and prove that she was the goddess who could save her people.
“Wait a minute.”
Lacrahan ignored the faint voice behind him. He moved as if he would never turn back. Another thing Bercheria didn’t know was that he was a renowned negotiation genius in Periat.
Lacrahan's exceptional fighting prowess wasn't the only factor behind his victory in the war between the three continents.
Bringing a vast empire and kingdom to its knees with such talent alone was impossible.
Lacrahan instinctively knew how to see into the depths of humanity and how to use that to his advantage.
This was precisely why Emperor Gerard so vigilantly kept Lacrahan in check.
"Hey!"
As he walked briskly, a faint force ran up behind him and snatched his arm.
His vision spun around halfway, and his eyes filled with sparkling golden eyes.
The moment their eyes met, Lacrahan's brow furrowed.
"What?"
Her thin lips trembled in a pale face, as if she couldn't find the words to say.
Lacrahan raised his eyebrows, then sighed.
"If you have nothing to say, I'll go."
As he braced himself to turn around again, a flat voice rang out.
"Don't go..."
"What did you say?"
Bercheria exhaled slowly.
“Don’t go. You’re not in the wrong room.”
“Are you sure?”
The golden eye, which had been like a herbivore just moments before, was looking up at him with considerable irritation.
This time, he’d stop there.
“If you want to talk to me from now on, remember this. I value time more than money.”
Bercheria’s head tilted imperceptibly, like a young puppy trying to understand human language.
“If you waste my time like this again, there will be no more conversation.”
Lacrahan raised his smooth eyebrows again as if to remind her, then lowered them and walked ahead of her into her room.
“...!”
Bercheria stood there, quietly watching his back.
She’d thought the same thing before, but that man...
“...The more I see him, the more I dislike him.”
Everyone here was talking in unison about how good a person Lacrahan was.
Bercheria had thought so at first.
He was a kind northern lord, and he seemed like a good person who would take self-sacrifice for granted.
“Hah. A good person?”
Bercheria instinctively placed a hand on her neck.
The sensation of the knife touching her neck matched the temperature of the man's words moments ago with astonishing precision.
"No."
It was clear that everyone in this castle had been thoroughly deceived.
By that man.
Comments
Post a Comment