WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: HidingTurtle

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◈ The Wandering Knight and the Moving Castle ◈

Chapter 64: Prophecy (3)

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Magical talent was not hereditary except in special cases. A mage's life was something bestowed by fate.

There was only one exception: Witches. They stood somewhere between scholars and mages.

Witches could endlessly study, collect, grind, brew, sing, and dance, allowing them to glimpse even the very edge of magic.

The Black Hand Tribe eagerly trained and employed Witches. The magic they desired most was prophecy.

In a secluded, quiet place, Chieftain Alesa and the elders watched Rex.

“I am certain that knight is the master of the prophecy.”

Rex had learned of the prophecy after leaving Bonyard City. The moment he heard it, he believed there could be no other candidate besides Eugene.

“As a warrior, the young master's eye for people must be reliable.”

“But the future of the tribe is at stake. Please do not take offense at our continuing to search for other options as well.”

The elders made a fair point.

“I understand. Were there any additional prophecies?”

Alesa shook her head.

“The two Witches have grown too frail. It would be best to consider them retired.”

The twin Witches who had foretold the tribe's destruction were elderly even by Dark Elf standards. Ever since they had accepted a mystery far too vast, they had languished as though gravely ill.

“Young master, the more people a prophecy affects and the clearer its contents, the greater the burden. Under normal circumstances, this prophecy would have ended far more simply.”

Yet after realizing it was a revelation concerning the tribe's fate, the two Witches had forced themselves to steal a glimpse of the future and paid the price.

“All I can do is thank them for their devotion.”

Once Rex heard the circumstances, he accepted it.

Prophecy was more alluring than gold, but seeking it too often was bound to lead to disaster.

“Part of me is curious, though. What kind of calamity could bring our tribe to ruin?”

Rex did not entirely lack the desire to face the crisis head-on. It was the boldness of youth and the pride of a warrior who had carved out his fate with sweat and strength.

“Curiosity is not a leader's virtue. There are secrets in this world that must not be confronted, only passed by.”

“That sounds like something Marbas always says.”

Rex was not merely an ordinary warrior. Keeping even small dangers away from the tribe was the duty of the deputy chieftain.

“Young master, we have yet to determine what the cradle is. Remember that we still have a long road ahead.”

“I know. We may tell the knight now, correct? We are not deceiving him, but I do not wish to hide it from him either.”

Everyone turned to Alesa. Revealing the tribe's internal affairs to an outsider was the chieftain's prerogative.

Alesa nodded.

“Thank you. Since we're discussing it, shouldn't we begin informing the whole tribe soon?”

“I will announce it once the festival ends. At least during the festival, I want everyone to rest easy.”

The prophecy had come only recently, and because its contents were so grave, they had not revealed it at once.

When death approached through darkness so thick that one could not see an inch ahead, people were bound to despair.

Whether it was the cradle or its master, they needed to find at least one light to guide them before making it known.

* * *

“So that was the situation, Sir Knight.”

“Thank you for telling an outsider like me.”

It was a bewildering story, but Eugene's thoughts quickly began to race.

What he would have to bear, the risks, his relationship with the tribe, and what he stood to gain. All that mattered was judging it on the spot.

His answer came together quickly.

“I honestly don't know whether such a great fate awaits me. Still, I can promise that I will always welcome your tribe.”

“Do you believe our prophecy?”

Rex was more surprised by Eugene's unquestioning acceptance. He had expected at least a strange look, if not a response asking what nonsense they were talking about.

Yet the knight before him took it with complete seriousness.

“It is a little different from believing it completely.”

“Pardon?”

“Not being certain, but not doubting it either. If I can help when the time comes, I will cooperate as much as I can. Will that not be enough?”

“More than enough!”

Eugene had experienced all manner of strange things himself. He could not simply dismiss a prophecy that the tribe's venerable Witches had risked their lives to make.

‘Their tribe's destruction is approaching, and their only path to survival is to flee to a cradle whose master is me.’

Honestly, it was a lot to take on.

“Have you discovered exactly what this cradle is?”

Varda asked.

That was the most important part. Even with a homeowner and a key, they would still be exposed to the wind and rain if there was no house.

“The elders disagree on its meaning. Some say it refers to unexplored land, while others believe it means a frontier free city far removed from political entanglements. And Marbas...”

Rex trailed off.

“He must have argued for the legendary Wandering Castle.”

“He talks about that castle every chance he gets.”

Mages tended to become single-minded about whatever they pursued. It was not strange for them to link prophecies to their own interests.

“Surprisingly, some of the elders agree with him.”

“Really?”

“Isn't the prophecy unusually specific? It did not suggest land or a city, but specifically called it a cradle. Marbas argues that there must be a reason for that.”

The Black Hand Tribe had received and interpreted many prophecies over its long history. The information they had accumulated made it difficult to dismiss Marbas's claim.

Varda added her own thought.

“The Emperor searching everywhere for the Wandering Castle must have influenced them as well.”

“That is right. They say great mysteries are bound to be connected.”

Eugene looked curiously at the elf watching him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It is nothing.”

To Varda, Eugene himself was a being who belonged to the realm of mysteries.

There was the dream he had seen, and the golden key he had obtained after defeating the Guardian. Too many things fit together like pieces of a puzzle to call it coincidence.

“I feel as though we have spoken of nothing but heavy matters.”

Having revealed everything, Rex looked relieved. He opened the door to Eugene's quarters and gestured outside.

“Dinner will be ready soon. There will be rare dishes from all across the continent, so please come out.”

“One more question.”

“Please ask.”

“Do the other tribespeople know about this? They seem far too cheerful for that.”

Rex chuckled softly.

“We will announce it once the pleasant festival is over. Heavy prophecies arrive slowly as well. Fate will not fall upon our tribe just because we rest for a few days.”

* * *

Since the festival was held only once every few years, the food was lavish. There were delicacies that even a count's household could not obtain, not because of their price, but because they were difficult to transport or preserve.

Quail eggs piled on silver platters, peeled oranges, and seafood stew served in turtle shells appeared before them. Even the steaks were premium cuts from young animals that had never been put to work.

“This is my first time eating foal meat. It's much better than I expected.”

“Even we only get to taste such precious food during the festival.”

“Then why aren't you eating any more?”

“...I've been eating beside you the whole time. I suppose I'm the only one who's full.”

Rex looked at Eugene with a sickened expression.

“Will you not go outside?”

True to the Dark Elves' insular nature, the festival grounds had been divided into two broad sections.

Only members of each house and their invited guests could enter the areas where those houses had set up camp.

Outside was a shared area where everyone mingled and enjoyed themselves regardless of house.

“Is there any need for me to go out?”

“The performances, competitions, and stalls selling curious goods are all outside. Those are the real highlights of the festival.”

“I am satisfied here.”

Eugene pointed at the tribal women dancing inside the tent.

Their faces were veiled with translucent scarves as they danced beautifully. They looked as if all the passion in the world had been gathered and shaped into a woman's form.

Every part of their bodies revealed amid their vigorous movements was perfectly honed.

“This is like an offering warrior women make to the gods.”

“Human dancers are child's play compared to the women of our tribe.”

As expected of a warrior tribe, some young women danced with daggers or scimitars in their hands.

What Eugene had thought was something like rhythmic gymnastics turned out, on closer inspection, to be a dance performed with whips.

“Good friends, excellent food, wonderful sights, and a comfortable place to sleep. Everything I want is here, so I would rather stay with you.”

“Isn't that unfair?”

Despite his grumbling, Rex's face was full of satisfaction.

“Besides, if I go out wearing these clothes, I'll run into trouble in several ways.”

Eugene lightly shook the traditional clothes he was wearing.

“Wouldn't the other houses be offended if a human dressed like them, rather than a laborer or entertainer, wandered about?”

“No one would dare lay a hand on our guest.”

Rex had never imagined that a knight who seemed afraid of nothing would concern himself with such things.

“People looking for trouble won't care about such things.”

Eugene was right. Even if he was careful not to get caught up in trouble, accidents that were going to happen would happen.

While everyone else was drinking themselves senseless, several Dark Elf warriors who had not touched a drop approached them.

“We would dare make an impertinent request.”

“What is it?”

“Even if the young master recognizes that knight, we cannot.”

Rex's eyes turned cold, but the warriors did not shrink back.

“How can an outsider attend the banquet in clothing permitted only to the chieftain's family?”

“If he is truly such an extraordinary knight, please allow him to compete against one of us. Only then can we accept it.”

Eugene, who had been listening, was stunned.

‘Those clothes were that important?!’

No wonder they were covered in gold thread and lavish decorations, so unlike what everyone else wore.

He had never imagined they would give him clothes reserved for the chieftain's family. Had he known beforehand, Eugene would have firmly refused.

“You fools.”

Rex, seated beside him, looked so grim that Eugene felt embarrassed for him.

The only reason he held back was that the warriors' demand was based on legitimate grounds and loyalty.

The chieftain's family also bore some responsibility for not telling them about the prophecy so that everyone could enjoy the festival in peace.

“This is something the chieftain and the elders have agreed to.”

“If you dislike it, order us to return to our seats.”

The warriors held firm.

If Rex gave the order, the trouble would end here. Yet a small resentment would remain unresolved and follow them afterward.

Eugene rose from his seat.

“I accept the challenge.”

“Sir Knight!”

“How could I, as a knight, avoid an opponent who has challenged me with such pure fighting spirit?”

Eugene did not want to stand by while Rex was caught between him and his own tribe.

“And look around.”

The once-noisy banquet hall had fallen silent. Men and women, young and old, all watched with excitement and anticipation.

“Wouldn't everyone be disappointed if this simply fizzled out?”

“But we invited you, and now they are being so rude...”

“If I hire mercenaries in the future, I will contact this place first. After fighting alongside you in Bonyard City, other mercenaries simply do not measure up.”

Clang! Clang!

The tribal women who had been performing sword dances struck their weapons together in place of applause.

“Since I will be fighting alongside these warriors in the future anyway, it would be good to get used to working together in advance. Let us consider it a rehearsal.”

Laughter rose from every side at Eugene's bold words.

“You are impossible.”

Only then did Rex's expression soften.

Even the tribal warriors, who had been tense after making the request themselves, looked at Eugene with goodwill.

The spectators cheered as they cleared away tables and chairs, then swept the ground. In an instant, a clean open space had been made.

“You are very practiced at this.”

“Improvised arenas are set up often in our tribe.”

Perhaps they had drawn lots in advance, because one warrior stepped forward as their representative. The warrior wore armor and carried a blunt sword.

“Sir Knight, please go easy on me. A bone or two being broken is fine, just do not kill me.”

“Do not worry.”

Eugene patted Rex's shoulder as Rex spoke earnestly.

“As long as the weapon has no edge, I may use anything, correct? I would prefer something I am familiar with. It will be easier to control my strength that way.”

“Of course. As long as it is not sharp or pointed... S-surely not?”

His worst fear came true. Rex was left speechless when he saw the terrifying long-handled flail Homi was bringing over.

“They say he killed three Bugbears with that.”

“Oh my!”

“Did he not also crack open the heads of a heretical knight and a Wendigo?”

“He killed the Wendigo with a sword. Lord Rex made a trophy out of it!”

Murmurs spread among the spectators.

Even the warriors who had issued their challenge so boldly swallowed hard at the iron club swinging from the end of the long-handled flail. A chill ran through every gland in their bodies.

“Sir Knight! Even a glancing blow from that would kill them!”

“...Rex, what do you take me for? Of course I do not intend to use it like this.”

Looking incredulous, Eugene inserted the key for the long-handled flail and dismantled the chain.

Thud!

The iron club fell to the ground with a loud crash.

“Ah, it can be used that way too.”

Rex, who had been on edge, finally relaxed a little at the sight of the long-handled flail turned into a steel staff. Even if someone broke a few bones, that would not kill them.

With Homi's help, Eugene put on armor, then advanced while spinning the lance-length iron bar in both hands. A black vortex formed around him.

Whoooong!

Whoong!

The tremendous sound of it cutting through the air filled the banquet hall, drowning out the crowd's murmurs.

“That is the sound a troll makes when it swings a club.”

“Lord Rex, should we not stop this?”

“Wouldn't getting hit by that kill someone just the same?”

Rex's attendants, sobered by the ominous sound, rushed over.

“Hmm.”

Rex was torn between two conflicting thoughts.

One was the desire to watch the fools who had dared challenge Eugene get smashed to pieces. The other was his responsibility to stop this before an accident occurred.

‘Surely he will control his strength.’

Rex decided to trust the knight he respected.

Footnotes:

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