"Wolves, Gather In My Forest" V4 - Epilogue
"... In the past the dragon race used humans to destroy human sorcerers. They gave them weapons made with their sorcery — some of them even made humans themselves into puppets of battle... This village was sort of an arsenal where people were gathered for that purpose. The villagers now are descended from them... So I guess you could say that they're true Dragon Worshippers."
Listening as Fiena spoke so calmly, Orphen thought that it didn't really matter. There were plenty of other things to think about.
Hours had passed since then, and they still weren't ready to leave.
The village had been scorched to the ground, so there was nothing to take with them — but still the villagers wanted more time. They needed time to leave the place that they'd lived for so long.
No one wanted to stay and build their homes there again. Not only because of the collapse of their own Dragon Faith — for if that had been the only reason, there would've been those who still stubbornly tried to stay. It was all because of Fiena's persuasion, which was short-lived. She'd told them about the outside world.
Stepping on the charred soil, the villagers looked thoughtfully around at the place where their houses should've been. Looking at the villagers, Orphen asked Fiena a question, as she stood beside him.
"By the way, where are you going to go now? With this many people."
"I'm thinking of going back to my village. To Solician. If anyone doesn't like it there, there are plenty of other small villages around the area, and they can go to those places. I'm sure they'd all love to have extra hands, so they won't have any trouble finding a place to settle down."
"Was that your idea?"
When Orphen asked with a grin, she put her hand to her mouth and chuckled.
"That's what Majic told me. So don't worry too much."
"... So, is the dragon no longer controlling you?"
"No. At least — not strongly."
She answered in a quiet voice.
"I've lost their sorcery, but still... I think now, I know that I don't need it. Even you fought against the dragon race, which should've been impossible to beat... What I mean is—"
"I know."
Orphen shrugged his shoulders. He kept listening.
"I don't really want to know about this stuff. Do you... know where the dragon race's sanctuary is located?"
When he asked, Fiena shook her head.
"No. The Great Heart — nor the dragons told me anything about the Sanctuary. Maybe she knows something."
She pointed at Majic and Cleao, who were coming from among the crowd of villagers — the Deep Dragon child stalking at her feet. It didn't seem to be able to walk in a straight line, so it wobbled and weaved, and then braked with a tumble. Even so, because of how fast it walked, its walking speed was no different from Cleao and the other's.
"That..."
Fiena's voice spoke up, as if she'd read his thoughts while he was looking at Cleao, even though she no longer had the power of their sorcery.
"I don't think anyone heard what you screamed during that explosion. So—"
Without speaking another word, Fiena started to walk away, as if to greet Cleao and the others. She passed by Cleao and stopped in front of Majic. Majic also stopped, and they seemed to have struck up a conversation.
Only Cleao and the baby dragon approached him. She sighed, sounding tired. At the same time, she opened her mouth.
"I... found this. I thought I'd give it back."
She tossed him his pendant — the crest of the one-legged dragon, entwined with a sword. Orphen took it, fiddled with the broken chain, and looked back at her.
"Those dwarves. I looked for them, but they weren't among the villagers. During all that commotion — maybe they... they weren't able to escape."
By the time she'd finished, she'd already stepped in front of him. Orphen just denied the idea with a laugh, dropping the pendant into his pocket.
"Oh please — those idiots? They don't die. If it came down to it, they could dig their own grave and survive."
"... You think so? They're not moles."
Cleao said suspiciously, but Orphen didn't pay it any mind. He put his hand on Cleao's blonde-haired head.
"I'm tired... Really. I'd like to ask you for that massage later."
After a pause, Cleao's eyes lit up.
"Really? You said you didn't want one!"
"No... I've been thinking about it for a while now, and I think it'll really help."
"Really?"
Cleao nodded with a smile on her face, which seemed to resemble the smile an assailant might show after they've punched someone. Orphen lightly restrained her with his hand.
"Oh, but I hope you'll let Majic get one before I do. Give it your all."
"I-is that so?"
Then, when it's my turn, I can just run away, Orphen secretly thought. Cleao continued smugly.
"If I'm going to do this, then it'll be to the best of my ability! My father always said that if you tried hard enough, you wouldn't die. Of course, that was right before he got sick, started vomiting, and fainted."
"............"
Without answering, Orphen looked into the distance, still holding Cleao's head. The Forest that surrounded them on all four sides — a huge sea of trees that covered up to 20% of the continent. Somewhere in there was the Sanctuary of the dragon race — and a hidden secret.
Thou shalt be compelled to do as we wish—
The Dragon's words came back to his ears.
(Yet you fear it more than anything else—)
Orphen repeated to himself.
(You guys bet on me. A bet is both a blessing and a curse no matter which way it falls.)
Then—
Cleao raised her voice.
"Orphen..."
"Hmm...?"
"You're hurting me."
She said, Orphen's hand still gripping her head. Apparently, he'd unknowingly put a little too much force into it.
"Oh, I'm sorry."
Orphen pulled his hand away. Then another voice called out—
"Everyone! We're leaving soon! We must leave the forest before nightfall — The rangers will guide you, so make sure you don't stray from the group—"
It was Fiena. Majic was standing beside her, repeating the same statement.
"Master! Let's go!"
"Right."
Orphen answered with a wave of his hand.
He'd already made up his mind. He was light in body and light in mind.
And then, when no one else was around—
The ground where Orphen had been standing a few minutes before rose up. The scorched earth was thrown aside, and a scraggly head popped up from the ground.
"Bleck—! Bleck—! Hack—!"
Spitting dirt from his mouth and nose, hacking, Vulcan flung himself free. He rubbed his pitch-black face and rasped.
"I didn't know that not being able to breath could be so painful!'
In response, from further down the hole where Vulcan was buried, someone else cried out.
"You should know that much..."
"Don't be ridiculous! I've never been unable to breath before!"
He yelled as he thrust the sheath of his sword down towards his feet. A scream echoed from down in the hole, and he continued.
"Damn that sorcerer, standing there talking to people! What was he going to do when we died, that murderer! I'll count the stains on the ceiling and kill him!"
"... Then why don't you stop yelling over my head, too..."
"Don't you dare talk back to me!"
He jabbed him again with the scabbard. This time there was no scream, but instead a resigned sigh.
Vulcan slowly climbed out of the hole. He was covered in mud, but that wasn't much different from usual.
"Hmph — and yet... that loan shark sorcerer is the most terrifying. I may've defeated many powerful men, but in the end, the last one standing is always that outlandish bastard."
"But you haven't beaten anyone yet..."
Dortin also emerged from the hole, but when Vulcan glared at him, he gave up and sunk back into it.
Vulcan continued on his own.
"But! It is I, Volcano Vulcan, the Fighting Dog of Mazmaturia, who will win in the end! That fool will see what I can do—"
"You mean by staring at him from a distance, or riding on a cloud until he floats to his death..."
"No way!"
Vulcan screamed back at the mumbling hole.
"There's only one thing to do! Show him my power!"
"... What — exactly, are you going to do?"
Dortin asked, still not showing his face from the hole. Vulcan continued with a proud smile. He pointed his finger in the direction of the day after tomorrow.
"I've decided! He's made a big mistake now — I'll go to the Tower of Fang and tell them about his heinous crimes!"
"... So you're just going to ask for help from someone else... I'm sure you saw that he wasn't the one who killed MacDougall..."
"Hahaha! I'm not afraid of that kind of public opinion!"
Vulcan exclaimed, not showing even a hint of agitation. Finally, Dortin emerged from his hole and mumbled, his tone somewhat bitter.
"Yes, that's true, but in order to implement this brilliant idea, we have to find our way out of this Forest. How are we going to do that?"
"... Uhhh—"
Vulcan's loud laughter froze.
Fenrir Forest — the home of the warriors.
The last — and eternal — unexplored region of the continent of Kiesalhima. The huge, silent sea of trees gave no answer, but seemed to be pondering how to heal the scars of the scorched earth.
Table of Contents
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| (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) |
Priestess of the Forest Deep Dragon Orphen's Imprisonment Fiena's Request MacDougall's Secret Rapid Slaughter |