Chapter 37: Lies (1)

The full moon had begun to wane, signaling bedtime for most, but the settlement still buzzed with energy. 

Everyone was in high spirits, savoring the genuine fullness that came from a real meal—not the hollow warmth of magic they'd endured for the past month.

Even the elves, initially clustered among themselves, gradually began to mingle with the settlers.

It was a heartwarming sight to see them laughing together, despite the lack of alcohol.

"...Why are you standing alone?"

As I stood apart, mulling over the earlier conversation, Baron David approached me from where he'd been enjoying the festivities with his knights.

"There's no need to isolate yourself on our account. A good superior joins in the fun, you know. It's only the bad ones we wish would leave."

"...It's not that."

"Then you must have something on your mind. Is it about the elves?"

I couldn't hide my surprise that he'd guessed so accurately. David, noticing my reaction, let out a deep sigh and sat down beside me.

"I might not be much help, but why don't you tell me about it? Even if I can't help, it might be a comfort to share."

"I appreciate the offer, but I'd hate to burden you unnecessarily."

"It's just listening, no big deal... Even if you suddenly declared we should storm the capital, I wouldn't be too shocked."

"...Isn't that your personal wish?"

"Ha, you got me."

His playful words, accompanied by a chuckle, carried a strong undercurrent of hostility towards the capital.

Pretending not to notice, I looked away. David then asked in a more serious tone:

"Whatever it is, know that my knights and I will support any decision you make, Your Excellency."

"......"

"Don't worry about the refugees either. Let me be clear—they all respect you. There's no one more beloved than the person who extends a helping hand in times of danger."

He thumped his chest, saying the same applied to them. His steadfast demeanor unconsciously eased the tension I felt.

"Actually..."

"Yes?"

"I've uncovered the true nature of the Mountain God and the centuries-long misunderstanding between the elves and the spirit."

"That's good news. So what's the problem?"

The problem was that there were no villains in this misunderstanding between the elves and the spirit—only confusion.

The easiest solution would be to keep the truth hidden and paint the spirit as evil. But that would be a disservice to the spirit who had served humans for hundreds of years.

The spirit was merely ignorant; its love for humans and centuries of service were genuine.

If the elves' feelings mattered, then so did the spirit's. I couldn't bring myself to cast it as the villain.

"I'm not sure how to advise without knowing the details. What was the misunderstanding?"

"...Spirits have a characteristic called assimilation."

Spirits are born from nature, manifesting through elemental powers, but they originally exist in a world different from ours.

To use an analogy, it's like how stars in the night sky appear close but are actually incredibly far away—spirits exist in another world.

When spirits gain physical form and interact with our world, they accumulate knowledge by assimilating with other living beings.

Not being a spirit myself, I'm not sure exactly what kind of knowledge they gain.

It could be the memories of the beings they assimilate with, or perhaps something like emotions.

One thing I do know is that spirits continue to assimilate with various entities throughout their existence, and those they assimilate with lose their vitality and die.

"So the sacrifices were actually a ritual of assimilation with the Mountain God?"

"Yes. I heard about this in the Demon Realm. When spirits assimilate with other beings, they feel as if they've become one with them."

They want to become one with the beings they love.

They continue to assimilate with this desire, but tragically, this affection ends up killing people.

This tendency is common even among spirits friendly to humans, and many people die each year due to such misunderstandings.

In these cases, the outcome depends on how much knowledge the spirit has. If they have enough intelligence to understand explanations, the problem can be solved through dialogue alone.

The Mountain God spirit clearly falls into the latter category.

Moreover, it's devoted to humans, so if the elves had just asked it to reconsider at the beginning...

"...Are you saying it wouldn't have accepted sacrifices?"

"Spirits harbor no malice. If it said it loved people, there would be no lie in those words."

"Oh my..."

We can't laugh this off as foolishness. Too many people have died, too many have been hurt for this to be treated lightly.

If they had overcome their fear and communicated with the spirit from the start, none of this would have happened.

But the elves chose the easy, comfortable path instead of the difficult, dangerous one.

I hesitate to call sacrifices the "comfortable" path, but it was that mindset of seeking comfort that led to today's tragedy.

"I don't want to reveal this truth to the elves. But I also don't want to make the spirit out to be evil. However..."

Just as I was about to say I didn't know how to resolve this issue, I sensed it.

The unique mana of a child from behind me.

Small and fragile, almost forgotten until that moment, it suddenly flared up intensely.

Fighting the urge not to turn around, I slowly pivoted.

There...

"W-what do you mean...?"

The person I least wanted to see right now was watching us.

Pina stood there, her small hands clenched like unripe maple leaves, staring at us.

Her bloodshot eyes trembled wildly.

Then, as a tear streaked down her pretty face, Pina's body began to crumple.

*****

Children are more sensitive to others' gazes and voice tones than adults realize.

Gazes and voices carry more information than one might think, and careful observation can reveal the true feelings hidden behind words.

Pina, in particular, was much more sensitive and perceptive than her appearance suggested, able to discern others' true feelings just by listening to their voices.

The way the tribe treated her mother seemed respectful on the surface, but beneath that lay unmistakable fear and hatred.

But her mother was so kind.

On nights when Pina had nightmares, she would stay by her side, gently rubbing her back until she fell asleep.

Despite her busy schedule, she made time for Pina, who struggled to fit in with other children her age.

For young Pina, it was hard to accept that such a loving mother was ostracized by everyone.

"It can't be helped, dear..."

That was all her mother would say when Pina voiced her complaints.

Pina's mother showed no desire to improve the situation.

It was different from mere acceptance.

In her mother's back, as she accepted the tribe's hatred, Pina glimpsed a sort of relief.

Pina couldn't understand why her mother felt relieved about being shunned by everyone.

But when she suddenly had to take over as priestess due to her mother's mysterious illness...

Pina finally understood.

The priestess's job wasn't as noble and beautiful as people outwardly praised it to be.

The priestess was a devil who drove other people's family members to their deaths and pushed those who could barely take care of themselves off the cliff.

It was this awareness that made Pina's mother feel relief when people avoided her.

The feeling of being punished allowed her to barely face the nightmarish guilt that never left her mind.

When this heavy responsibility was passed to Pina, her first task was to offer her mother as a sacrifice to the Mountain God, as per tradition.

Despite the ominous implications of the word "sacrifice," the actual task was deceptively simple.

All she had to do was point with her finger.

No need to slit throats with a knife or cut out hearts on an altar—just point.

Yet Pina couldn't bring herself to make this simple gesture even after several hours.

She'd rather cut off all her fingers than sacrifice her mother.

She even had the childish thought that if she broke all her fingers, the ritual might be postponed.

But a centuries-old ritual couldn't be avoided with such childish notions.

The selection ritual dragged on into the night.

When everyone was exhausted and just shuffling their feet, Pina's mother approached her.

She bent down slowly and stroked Pina's back, just as she always did when Pina had nightmares.

The voice that reached Pina's ears was small and gentle, noticeably weaker than usual.

In that voice, tinged with a wistfulness as if recalling past days, Pina thought:

Surely, the same thing must have happened when her mother was first chosen as priestess.

If this duty couldn't be avoided, then she, as her mother's daughter, was the only one who should bear this painful burden.

Steeling herself, Pina pointed with a trembling hand at her mother, who was pretending to be calm, her fist clenched.

Through tear-blurred vision that painted everything in hazy colors, Pina saw her mother give a small smile before walking away as the Mountain God's sacrifice.

It wasn't the usual time for sacrifices, but it was customary to offer a sacrifice to the Mountain God when a priestess was about to die.

A few months later.

When the day of the ritual finally arrived, Pina selected the sacrifices herself, distinguishing between those who should die and those who should live.

A hunter whose body was broken beyond repair by a monster attack was just a burden on the village.

A sickly child who frequently collapsed was destined to die young anyway.

A blameless middle-aged person entering their later years, with no crucial role, could die without consequence.

As she offered them up one by one, making up suitable reasons, Pina realized these were all just excuses.

If weakness was a sin, then all humans, who can't survive without helping each other, deserve to die.

There's no one in this world who deserves to die.

But this village needed 20 people who had to die each year.

Desperately suppressing the urge to vomit, Pina selected the sacrifices one by one.

Maybe someday, she could have a child with someone, and when that child grows up, she could be freed from this duty.

I want to get pregnant soon.

I want to die soon.

As she lived day by day with such thoughts...

"I'm going to kill that so-called Mountain God. No matter what it takes, I will definitely kill it."

Someone finally said out loud what everyone had only thought.