kscans

t/n: i haven’t touched this in a long time. apologize for the mistakes.

CHAPTER 8 PATARAPOZA – Episode 1 The Call of Darkness

1

The expedition to the Cave of Trials had taken a heavy toll on Bard’s aging body. Upon returning to Fyuzarion, he felt utterly drained. Nausea and dizziness plagued him, forcing him to take to his bed. He was acutely aware of his dwindling strength and stamina. Yet, he was content. During the adventure, he had pushed his skills and strength to the very limit, achieving a level of mastery he had never thought possible. Having tasted such profound satisfaction, he could now surrender to the inevitable decline of old age. As Fyuzarion bustled with remarkable progress, Bard focused on his recovery.

Zariya the apothecary, too, collapsed into a deep sleep upon reaching Fyuzarion. Though she regained her feet after a week, she seemed burdened by fatigue. She entrusted the care of the sick and injured to Carla, often spending her days lost in thought, by the Egalsocia fields.

Next to Zariya’s house stood the home of old man Pinen. Like Zariya, his doorstep was always crowded with patients. The old healer lived with his adopted son and disciple, Torika, and a female servant. Six apprentices, all skilled in medicine, diligently assisted with the daily treatments. Torika, despite his youth, oversaw their training with remarkable knowledge and expertise. Old man Pinen observed his progress with a keen eye. (t/n: the raw said with squinted eyes, whatever that mean…)

It was on the twenty-second of October, as the year drew to a close, that old man Pinen passed away. He had tended to his patients the day before, eaten dinner as usual, but was found dead in the morning.

The new year dawned, and on the fourth day of March, before spring’s arrival, Zariya the apothecary breathed her last. She had promised to heal Karz’s tongue when she regained her strength, a promise left unfulfilled. Bard had harbored a secret fear that upon her death, Zariya might crumble to ash, just like Echidorkiye the Dragonoid. But it was not so. She seemed a little smaller in death, perhaps, but she retained the dignified appearance of a life well-lived. Bard was inexplicably relieved. As per her final wishes, they buried her on a hill overlooking Fyuzarion. The solitary traveler had found a home at the end of her long journey. Quinta, Seto, Yuguru, Nuva, and Miya, who carried her coffin, were like grandchildren to her. Jurchaga, who led the procession, was another. Priest Couri, chanting sacred verses, offered gratitude to Zariya’s soul, declaring that Egalsocia, her legacy, would continue to protect and prosper the people of Fyuzarion.

After Zariya’s passing, not a day went by when Bard didn’t recall their adventure in the Cave of Trials. He was certain that the ordeal had taken a toll on her life force. Had she not joined him, she could have lived for many more years, decades even. But Bard was convinced that Zariya held no regrets. Despite the unexpected gift of a spirit, which bestowed upon her extraordinary power and longevity, her extended lifespan wasn’t necessarily filled with happiness. The old woman continued her journey, sharing her knowledge of herbs and healing, helping people with her skills. One of her goals, she had said, was to find a land where Egalsocia would flourish. There was no selfish desire in that. It was all for the sake of others. Her journey, a lonely and arduous one, no doubt, was for the people, so they could live without fear of beasts and find health through the benefits of Egalsocia. But her hardship was rewarded. She had finally discovered a vast land where Egalsocia thrived, and upon it, Fyuzarion was built. And from Fyuzarion, an abundance of Egalsocia was being shipped to various regions. To witness this must have brought Zariya immense joy.

Thinking about it, Bard envied Zariya. He wouldn’t go so far as to say he was jealous, but… Despite being hailed as the “People’s Knight,” Bard couldn’t claim to have accomplished as much for humanity. He was merely going through the motions of helping others, all the while exhibiting his aging self. However, it was precisely because he was Bard, that he understood. Zariya had mentioned finding a land where Egalsocia flourished as one of her goals. What other purpose did her journey hold?

Bard pondered. It was to find a path to a worthy death. A fitting time and place to conclude her life. And, if possible, a chance to truly shine before the end.

By taking in the spirit, Zariya had gained tremendous power. However, she had never had the opportunity to fully unleash it. Yet, in the end, she challenged the Cave of Trials, fought alongside remarkable companions. In that moment, the old woman, no, that woman, must have unleashed the full extent of her hidden power. It wasn’t the aged Zariya that came to mind when he closed his eyes. It was the image of a young, beautiful, and confident Zariya, healing her comrades’ wounds with miraculous power. How strong, how proud she had been. And it was thanks to Zariya’s efforts that the expedition to the Cave of Trials had been a success. Moreover, she returned to Fyuzarion, surrounded by youngsters who admired her, and closed her life’s curtain. She must have been content.

Bard himself was a testament to that. He had challenged the Cave of Trials to obtain valuable information about the Evil God Patarapoza and King Jean’s legacy. It was an attempt to save the humans and other beings of the continent from the impending danger. In that sense, their expedition had been a resounding success, as they had uncovered the truth about the legacy and defeated Echidorkiye the Dragonoid. But the adventure had held something more. Joining forces with trusted companions and overcoming a formidable foe held intrinsic value. The battles they had fought in that arena were something to be eternally proud of, even in death. The Cave of Trials expedition was, in itself, a reward for the path Bard had walked. It was there that he found a satisfaction so profound, so deeply moving.

Surely Zariya felt the same, Bard thought. Of course, being a woman, her perspective might differ from his, a man and a knight. Still, he was unshakeable in his conviction that the adventure in the cave had been an irreplaceable experience for Zariya, a grand stage where she had etched a lasting mark on the world. No matter how long one lived, death awaited everyone in the end. To embrace a good death was essentially the same as living a good life. Zariya had lived a good life. That was why her death must have been a good one. Bard’s own death was not too far off. Would he die a death like Zariya’s?

On April 4th, exactly a month after Zariya’s passing, Jurchaga and Doriatessa welcomed their firstborn, a daughter. Her nickname was Silky, but her formal name was Silky Walshirin. Silky’s birth brought much-needed cheer to the people of Fyuzarion, who were still mourning the loss of their two elders.

2

Bard’s slightly improving health deteriorated rapidly after Zariya’s death. There were times when he was bedridden for two to three days. In his feverish, dream-filled sleep, a voice reached his ears. At first, it was just a faint murmur, but gradually it became clearer.

“Bard Rowen… Bard Rowen… Bard Rowen…”

A voice is calling his name. Who could it be? Had Patarapoza, the Dark God, awakened? If it had fallen into slumber right after the defense of Lordvan Castle, it would be year 4,273. It was now the year 4,280, meaning seven years had passed. Patarapoza was said to sleep for ten to fifteen years at a time, so it seemed too early for it to wake. But perhaps it had awoken early.

He had been wary at first, but as time went on, he grew accustomed to the voice. He convinced himself that it was just Patarapoza mumbling in its sleep. Regardless, if the monster on the Captive Island ever woke up, it was bound to make a move. It knew his name, after all.

Or did it? Echidorkiye the Dragonoid had known his name. He had boasted that his spies had uncovered it. But there was no guarantee that he had reported back to Patarapoza. Yet, the voice was calling his name, wasn’t it?

No. Was it really calling his name? Was he just imagining things? Come to think of it, he wasn’t even sure if his name was actually being called.

No. If Patarapoza had awakened, its Dragonoid servants would have told it… Bard Rowen’s name. Where he lived, everything.

No. The Dragonoid tribe chief might be concealing the fact that they knew Bard Rowen’s name. Assuming they could keep a secret, that is.

Wait. Even if it knew the name Bard Rowen, it wouldn’t know the location of Fyuzarion. So, would the monster appear first in the royal capital of Parzam? He needed to contact Jules and warn him.

No. He had also heard that the monster was incapable of moving on its own. It would first send an emissary. A Dragonoid, or perhaps a human under its control.

He had defeated Echidorkiye. Lugurgoa Geskas too. Uldruu was dead as well. But were there still many others on the continent who served as puppets of Patarapoza?

Bard’s thoughts went round and round, and he suffered nightmares, waking up in a cold sweat. He lost his appetite, and his chest burned with constant nausea. This continued until the summer passed. When the cool autumn breeze began to blow, his condition improved, and he was able to get up and move around. When he put on his clothes, he found them loose. He had lost weight, right down to his bones. He might have shrunk a bit too. But he was originally a large man, so his physique was still solid. Though thinner, his bones were strong, thick, and hard. By October, he had recovered enough to swing his sword. On the fifth of October, Kizmertel’s second son, Hungary, was knighted. His patron was Heridan Gato, the leading knight of House Orgazard. After the ceremony, Hungary dedicated his sword to Bard. At the celebratory banquet that night, Bard drank for the first time in a long time. It tasted good, seeping into his very core. The food, prepared with Kamler’s utmost care, also settled comfortably in his stomach.

“Bard Rowen… Bard Rowen…”

3

The year turned. It was now year 4,281. Two years had passed since the expedition to the Cave of Trials, and Bard had reached the age of sixty-nine. A grand mansion now stood at the heart of the city. It was made up of multiple buildings, including warehouses for grain, lumber, and ore. The Egalsocia warehouses alone numbered eight. There were warehouses to store raw Egalsocia, others for dried ones, and yet others for storing the extracted juice in barrels.

Bard decided to visit the kitchen. Kamler was hard at work. His movements was as sprightly as ever, betraying his age. His subordinate cooks and the kitchen staff were busy as well. It was a good thing, of course, but two individuals caught Bard’s eye. They were chefs, clearly of noble upbringing and considerable experience. They seemed curiously out of place in this remote region.

“Ah, those two? They’re cooks here for training, sent from Houses Fafarlen and Vodres.”

Bard was astonished by Kamler’s explanation and asked for details. Apparently, Arflaburne had visited to see his nephew and tasted Kamler’s cooking, finding it exceedingly impressive. Not just the cooking techniques and flavors but the presentation, course arrangement, and everything else. He deemed it utterly revolutionary. He had expressed his desire to incorporate such methods into his own household. Upon hearing this, House Vodres had concurred and together they had arranged for their cooks to be sent to Fyuzarion.

“Those two are already quite skilled, so there’s not much I can teach them. It’s a shame they won’t be able to stay long. To be honest, they’re practically working as cooks under the guise of apprentices. I plan to speak to them before they return. I’ll tell them, next time they send apprentices, make sure they’re young and willing to learn for at least ten years.”

Bard burst into laughter at Kamler’s declaration. It was a splendid idea. He could picture cooks from all corners of the continent flocking to Fyuzarion for culinary training, toiling away under Kamler’s watchful eye. He vaguely recalled a dream he’d had once, where he’d witnessed such a spectacle.

“Bard Rowen… Bard Rowen… Bard Rowen…”

4

One day in March, Carla came to see Bard. She fidgeted without stating her purpose, but finally blurted out, “Um… you know… Karz and I are getting married.”

With that, she fled as if she was shot from a cannon. It took Bard a while to process her words. Karz, the man she was talking about, was right there in the same room with him. When Bard asked Karz if it was true, he simply nodded silently. Well, he couldn’t speak even if he wanted to, due to his missing tongue, but somehow, Karz’s silence was too fitting.

They had a small wedding on March 20th. Even saying “small” felt like an understatement, considering the gathering included the families and retainers of Houses Rowen and Orgazard, making it a lively and joyous celebration nonetheless.

Right before the ceremony, Bard asked Carla how she had managed to win the heart of that stoic man.

“Huh? Well… you see… Count Huddle Zoruarus said it, right? ‘Take a wife, have children, sons…’ And Karz nodded along. So, I told Karz, ‘I can have your children if you want.’”

What a direct approach. But Bard was grateful to Carla for her efforts. It was good to have a wife and children. It was not all happiness; it would bring worries and troubles too. But the happiness, worries, and troubles were all part of the experience of having a spouse and children. Bard wanted Karz to experience the full spectrum of life. The man had lost his family and lived a life dedicated to others. It was only fair that he find some semblance of reward here.

During the wedding ceremony, Bard couldn’t shake the feeling that Doriatessa’s gaze toward Carla was a tad sharp.

“Bard Rowen… Bard Rowen… Bard Rowen…”

5

The village of Agis seemed to be developing well. Temperoid visited Fyuzarion’s mansion once a month and never failed to pay his respects to Bard. Fyuzarion provided Agis with anything they couldn’t produce themselves. In return, the village sent wheat, dried fish, and other goods. Although technically considered a form of tax payment, in reality, it was trade. Last year, they had faced trouble with bandits and had to borrow soldiers from Fyuzarion. Though still in its formative stages, Fyuzarion had assembled a company of eighty skilled men and trained them as soldiers. However, seventy of them were typically engaged in manual labor. Agis had also organized its own militia, but with only two men capable of leadership and combat, their mobility was limited. This was an issue for the future.

“No, we’ve been given a truly wonderful land. It’s like something out of a fairy tale. In the future, I’m hoping to expand the village westward and perhaps even establish a port along the Ova River.”

Temperoid described a very ambitious plan. Agis was quite a distance from Ova. For it to reach Ova, the city of Agis would have to be larger than the royal capital of Parzam. And even if they built a port, who would they trade with? Across the river was nothing but desert.

“We will build large sailing ships and trade with Linz and Padarien. Our product is Egalsocia, a high-quality, low-cost product that will be produced in Fyuzarion. We will transport it in large quantities and sell it in large quantities. We want to make trade the foundation of our nation. This will also bring prosperity to Fyuzarion. The Gorioran Empire will not stand idly by. They may even build a trading village on the opposite bank of Agis.”

It was a truly bold dream. But dreams are better when they are bold. Recently, many people have been migrating from Fyuzarion to Agis, and many who have visited Fyuzarion have settled in Agis. Fyuzarion is currently in the midst of a wave of rapid development and is somewhat hectic. The people here are pulled in many directions. In other words, there is a lot of work. The more work there is, the greater the rewards, but some people are not comfortable with that. Some people want to take it easy, and some people want to work only when they feel like it. Such people go to Agis. The free and easygoing atmosphere of Agis is attractive to such people. Conversely, those who want to make their mark come to Fyuzarion from Agis. Fyuzarion and Agis are in a very good relationship for the time being.

6

In the year 4,282, April, Thril, the second son of Jurchaga and Doriatessa, was born. His formal name was Thril Eslashirin.

In this year, Fyuzarion was divided into five villages in addition to the city block where the lord lived. However, this was merely a reflection of the natural development that had been taking place. The largest area was occupied by the livestock village of Tartes. Since it was a large area and a livestock village, it was not possible to plant Egalsocia everywhere. Therefore, for safety reasons, the livestock village of Tartes was surrounded by the other four villages and the city block. One was the forestry village of Morse, one was the leatherworking village of Cogus, one was the Egalsocia-producing village of Egals, and one was the wheat-producing village of Horieth. Of course, just because it was a forestry village did not mean that it only engaged in forestry. It also produced Egalsocia, other vegetables, and livestock. It was just that the proportion of specialized products was overwhelmingly high. The city block had a monopoly on industrial products and processed foods. In addition to the city blocks and villages, work villages were also established. These were established on-site for the quarrying of rock salt, the mining of iron ore, the mining of blackstone, and the mining of copper. The inhabitants of the work villages were semi-permanent, and workers and their caretakers were dispatched from the city blocks and five villages on a rotating basis.

Of these, the right to collect taxes in Egals was given to the Rowen family. Although a village headman was appointed to manage the village, and the administration was to be directly controlled by the Orgazard family, the Rowen family would receive all but the portion of the tax revenue that was returned to the village. The sale of Egalsocia was currently an important industry, accounting for almost all of Fyuzarion’s foreign currency earnings. It can be said that the Orgazard family is treating the Rowen family with an astonishing amount of generosity, since they are giving them the entire profit from this.

However, if Fyuzarion were to continue to develop at this rate, it would be difficult for the Orgazard family, with its poor administrative structure, to directly govern all of its territory. As the knights grew up, it would be natural to grant them land and divided into fiefs. This attempt would be a test case for that.

Bard appointed the knight Kizmertel as the steward of the Rowen family. Kizmertel, a sincere and discerning man, would surely manage the financial resources necessary for the maintenance and development of the family and pay a reasonable amount to the Orgazard family. The rate and method of such payment would become the standard for Fyuzarion in the future.

In October of this year, Goa Fuct, the second son of the knight Noah, was knighted.

7

The year was 4,283, and it passed by in a flurry, becoming 4,284. Bard turned seventy-two years old. By this time, Bard, whose health had fully recovered, had made up his mind to go on one last journey. First, he would visit Godon Zarkos in Mageia and eat the grilled demon shrimp in black armor. Then he would visit the Count of Linz and eat at the stalls. He would also go to the royal capital of Parzam to see Prince Baldrant. Prince Baldrant should be eight years old now, and if he saw Bard now, he would surely remember him.

Or so he thought, but in this year, there was a scandal in the village of Morse. It came to light that the village headman had embezzled taxes, misappropriated funds, and was making a profit by illegally selling salt. However, this was not due to malice, but rather to a lack of knowledge and ability to manage income and expenditure. After all, the population of each village in Fyuzarion was comparable to that of a large town on the frontier. The size of the economy would be many times greater. What used to be a self-sufficient life had become a life of producing and selling many times the amount consumed by the village. Moreover, the scale of this was only growing. It was no wonder that the rural village headman’s business sense could not keep up.

If the village were held responsible for this, there would be no other choice but to turn the entire village into slaves. The Orgazard family managed to weather the storm by dipping into their savings. However, this expense was not a major blow to Fyuzarion, which was on an upward trend. However, if the same thing were to happen again in the future, the damage would be enormous. In order to avoid repeating the same mistakes, it was decided that a proper ruler was needed. Thus, knight Taranka was appointed governor. He asked to borrow knight Tsurugatol as assistant governor, and Bard consulted with knight Kizmertel and agreed. The management of the village of Cogus was also on the verge of collapse, and knight Quinta was dispatched there as governor. Bard was asked to provide knight Dali as his assistant, and he consulted with knight Noah and agreed. Next, Bard was asked to lend knight Noah as governor of the village of Horieth. Knight Noah asked for knight Hangatoru as his assistant. Also, although it was an irregular form, knight Kizmertel became the governor of the village of Egals, while the right to collect taxes remained with the Rowen family. Originally, the village of Egals had an excellent village headman, and Kizmertel had been checking the books and giving advice. In the process, Kizmertel felt that there were too few people who could do administrative work. So he gathered young people and began to teach them advanced reading, writing, and arithmetic. The young people who were trained by Kizmertel at this time would later make great contributions to the development of Fyuzarion. Incidentally, knight Helidan was appointed governor of the livestock village of Tartes, but he quickly left the practical work to his subordinates and returned to the management of the city block. It was a brilliant move. However, Helidan was still given the role of head knight of the Orgazard family, responsible for maintaining security in Fyuzarion as a whole, as well as the transportation of goods to and from the four work villages and their protection, so he could not afford to be tied down in the village of Tartes.

As a result, Bard was unable to travel this year. This was because Bard himself was often called upon for inspections and adjustments.

8

The year 4,285 began. Six years had passed since the adventure in the Cave of Trials, and Bard had reached the age of seventy-three. It was the twelfth year since Patarapoza had fallen asleep. His body, which had been strong in his old age, was now thin and slender, and his hair had turned completely white.

Lately, Bard had been thinking a lot. About Patarapoza. About that monster. No. Was that monster really Patarapoza? Was it the great God of Darkness?

If so, it was an inevitable fate that Bard, who had Patarapoza as his guardian deity, would become the property of that monster. Hadn’t Bard been walking the path to becoming a servant of that monster ever since he had made it his guardian deity?

No. No, that was not the case. The shadowy figure of that monster had been glimpsed by the eyes of men, though shrouded in the darkness of history. People called that monster the God of Darkness Patarapoza. So, it was true that the monster was also the God of Darkness Patarapoza. However, that did not mean that the God of Darkness Patarapoza was that monster. So, who was Patarapoza? And why had Bard made it his guardian deity?

Bard thought. He thought long and hard. He stared deep into his heart.

He had chosen Patarapoza as his guardian deity because it was an unpopular god, and most priests did not know its doctrines. In other words, it was easy to avoid long-winded sermons. However, however, there was something deeper. There was a reason why he had chosen the God of Darkness Patarapoza as his guardian deity. There was a feeling that he had to do it. An irresistible urge.

Bard was rebelling. Against the knights who, holding up only what was beautiful, good, right, and pleasing to the ear, swore their knightly oaths as if they were floating in the air. Indeed, the goal of a knight must be true and good. However, a knight who lived in reality would have to live in the midst of unavoidable filth. Could it be a true knightly oath to turn a blind eye to that reality and utter only palatable words? Bard had always thought so.

Patarapoza was the god of almost every vice imaginable. Envy, resentment, hatred. Lust for conquest, lust for power, lust for possession. Laziness, despair, fear, cowardice. Lies, deception, betrayal. But could human activity exist apart from these vices? Rather, wasn’t the reality of life that the more one tried to live beautifully, the more one was covered in lies and betrayals, and the more one exposed one’s ugly side as one was tormented by justice that could not be fulfilled?

Good that is desired and obtained as it is, is nothing more than a flimsy self-satisfaction. True good is that which is obtained by fighting against the evil within oneself, by embracing the evil that cannot be completely severed, no matter what. There is no joy in good. There is joy in the space between good and evil. Those who do not know evil, those who refuse to acknowledge the evil within themselves, will never reach true good.

If we were to not allow or condemn any evil… There would be no place for humans to live in this world. A narrow-minded judgment that cannot even allow itself to be comforted by a little vice would rob the human heart of all peace.

What is missing there is forgiveness. What is missing is the recognition and forgiveness of human weakness, which cannot help but embrace evil. Is it not the mission of a knight to acknowledge and forgive the way of life of those who live with vice, and to gently guide their way of life to a little good?

That was what Bard thought. That was what he wished deep down in his heart.

He don’t want to be a knight who only stands on the side of good and cuts down evil. He don’t want to be a knight who judges people from high above without looking at himself. He want to be a knight who can look squarely at the evil within himself. He want to be a knight who can recognize the evil in others and love and have mercy on them for it. He want to be a knight who can know and understand the filth and sadness in people’s hearts. He want to be a knight who can swallow the filth in people’s hearts. Bard cried out in his heart.

It was this cry from his heart that made Bard choose Patarapoza. A guardian deity that would make people gasp if they heard it. However, Patarapoza was not only the god of all vices, but also the god who forgives them. He was the god who gently enveloped all that was ugly and filthy in the darkness of his curtain. Acknowledged and forgiven for what they were, people slept in the peace of the night. Patarapoza was truly the god who gave peace equally to all people.

This was the kind of god that Bard had as his guardian deity. This was why Bard had chosen Patarapoza as his guardian deity. In that case…in that case…the monster that was still sleeping on the Captive Island was not Patarapoza. At least, it was not the Patarapoza that Bard had as his guardian deity.

Then who was the monster on the Captive Island? It was the one who, for its own selfish desires, manipulated the hearts of the good men of Parzam and Goriora, betrayed them, and took the lives and futures of them and their families. It was the one who, in order to find a single magic sword, had used the Manunos to create eight hundred demonic beasts, had destroyed the innocent Try, and had shed the blood of heroes at Lordvan Castle. The white flame of anger that Bard had felt before continued to burn in the depths of his heart. With that anger as the power of his heart, he would confront the King of Evil Spirits.

By thus organizing his mind, Bard was able to prepare himself to confront the monster. However, Bard’s mind and body were now weak due to old age, the overuse of his powers beyond their limits, and the comfortable life he had lived for the past few years. He could not face it in his current state. If he were to face that monster in his current state, he would be taken over in an instant and manipulated to its will. It was not something that could be prevented by Yana’s bracelet. Bard was now like a sword with only a scabbard and no contents. No magical tool, however miraculous, could protect what there was when there is nothing to protect.

“I’ll go on a journey.” Bard decided once and for all. To return to being a true knight. To prepare for the confrontation with the monster, which would be the last adventure of his life. He would go on a journey to regain himself.

Bard decided that April would be the time of his departure.