kscans

Note: The old lady is a herbalist (she make medicine from herb), or more precisely pharmacist in modern day term. The term might interchange with doctor somehwere along the chapter, so please take note while reading.

1
I woke up. It was night. A campfire was burning. I felt the warmth of the old horse Stavros next to me.

“He’s a smart horse. It looks like the horse pulled you out of the river. When I found you, this horse was snuggled right up next to you, keeping you warm,” said a woman’s voice from the other side of the fire. “If you can get up, sit up and eat. I used the dried meat that was in your luggage, dry bread too.”

My body was wrapped in a mantle filled with grass. When I tried to get up, I realized it was difficult. My body doesn’t move as I wanted.

“Your clothes are dry. You should put them on first,” she said as she stood up and walked towards me. The person standing before me was an old lady. She was so old that I couldn’t guess her age. Her hair was white, and her face and hands were wrinkled, but she had a firm step. With the help of the old lady, I managed to stand up and put on my underwear, shirt, and pants. Then we had a meal.

In my pot, she prepared a soup by boiling tree roots and dried meat in water and dropping dried bread. I took my time eating.

“You fell into the river because you started feeling unwell and slipped, didn’t you? I want to hear about how you feel,” said the old lady.

I told her what I remembered. On the way over the mountains, my body gradually grew heavier. Eventually, my hands and feet became terribly cold. Then my chest started pounding, and I found it hard to breathe. When I tried to get some water from the creek, my head started to feel like it was boiling, and I lost consciousness. It wasn’t food poisoning, nor a chronic condition. It was a symptom I had never experienced before.

“Hmm…as I expected. I figured it out because the medicine seemed to have worked. Did you see a plant with purple, spiky fruits that were about the size of a fist along the way?”

I replied that I had passed by a place where there were many of them growing. Since it was a plant that I had never seen before, it left an impression on me. The old lady thought for a while after hearing my answer and said,

“That’s bad. In the morning, can you guide me to that place after you feel better?”

Bard appreciated the old lady kindness. It was customary to offer gold and useful goods to assist a person in need, and even offer a prayer. In urban areas, this practice was uncommon, and in the remote corners of the wilderness, there was nothing more to expect. However, this old woman seemed to have taken care of Bard when he was near death.

Despite her old age, she must have had a hard time moving Bard’s massive frame and taking his clothes off. She even dried his clothes near the fire. His sword was also removed from its sheath and dried. She made a fire for warmth and prepared their meal, which must have been a difficult task to accomplish. Furthermore, it seemed as though she had given him some precious medicine. If there was anything that the old woman wanted, Bard wanted to fulfill it as best as he could.

2

Despite drinking the medicine the old woman prepared and having a meal, Bard had not fully recovered enough to walk the long distance the next morning. The medicine was tea brewed from various kinds of herb and had healing properties that restored energy. When Bard asked for her name, the old woman replied that she was called a witch these days. Even if it was a nickname, it was an ominous name. Witch was a terrible way to address her.

The old woman began to talk about herself. She lived in a small village in the mountains far away from this place. When she was young, she was brought here by her mother and settled down after her mother helped a sick person. Her mother was an excellent physician. She also became a physician after receiving guidance from her mother and remained in the village even after her mother’s death. In remote areas, physician were a scarce resource. In emergencies, people came to her village to ask for her medicines from faraway villages. She had healed the wounds and diseases of people for decades and lived a relatively content life. However, her destiny changed due to the epidemic.

The turning point was an epidemic.

She learned about the illness from her mother, but the materials for the medicine were expensive and scarce, so much so that they can’t even be found on the frontier. One villager after another succumbed to the disease, and those who lacked the ability to fight it off were the first to die.

She didn’t get sick, probably because she was taking herbs that boost her resistance on a daily basis, but a girl she loved like her own grand daughter did. In fact, she had a remedy for just one person, which her mother had left behind. However, her mother had instructed her never to use it on anyone but herself.

Faced with such emotional and empathetic pressure, the old woman disregarded her mother’s advice and used the medicine on the little girl, who survived the epidemic. But when the village population learned about her success, they all demanded her cure. They would not accept the excuses about how the medicine was now gone.

Eventually, when the epidemic subsided, what was left for her was the resentment of the villagers. Even the little girl whose life she had saved ended up hating her. That was because the little girl’s parents had died without receiving any medicine.

Someone started asking how the old woman, as a physician, never got sick, and someone else answered that they had never seen her ill either. Someone else then mentioned that it felt like she had been alive forever, and yet she had never aged.

“She’s a Torael (witch),” someone said.

They don’t know who said it first, but everyone began to accept the word: she was a grotesque witch performing her magic by signing contracts with demons, a monster who uses her powers indiscriminately.

She extended her life span through the devil’s protection and performed countless dark and horrifying secret rites. No wonder she could manage to concoct such a potent remedy. Except, was it even real medicine?

But the Beadorū’s (devil’s) magic came with a high price.

How many villagers had she sold out to the devil? What was the real price of her getting such a miraculous remedy, and was the epidemic her work in the first place?

The villagers eventually surrounded her hut, tied her up to a stake, and set fire to it.

Bard couldn’t help but asked how she managed to survive, and the old woman replied,

“Well, who knows. Maybe someone among the villagers remembered the favors they owed to me and my mother,” she said, laughing and providing no further explanation.

If she survived being burnt alive, then this woman was undoubtedly a witch, in the truest sense of the word. However, Bard was a die-hard realist, and would only believe what he saw with his own eyes.

He had fought against Kaejel (magical beasts) and knew of the existence of weird creatures called Gielganos (apparition), but he didn’t believe in the existence of Beadorū (akuma devil) or Torael (witch). He had met people who claimed to be Shatori (sage) or Torilla Corache (prophet), and while some of them had considerable knowledge, none of them possessed supernatural powers. The things they called magic or miracles were either an unknown branch of science or nothing more than some sleight of hand.

He had heard countless accusations of the existence of Beadorū (devil) or Torael (witch), but when he investigated, he found only the dark side of human nature.

This woman who had once bestowed favors upon the villagers was almost burnt at the stake after being cursed, but she didn’t seem to possess any darkness in her heart.

What lived in the heart of this woman?

“You fell sick because you inhaled the dust that came out of the Geriadra fruit when it burst. But that dust is not really dust. It’s the eggs of small insects that infest the Geriadra plant. These eggs hatch only inside the human body. When they do, the insects try to reshape and make themselves at home in the human body. If you drink the medicine before the eggs hatch, they will die, and you will be cured of the disease. But once they hatch, it’s impossible to save the patient,” the old woman said.

She opened her pouch to show him a small nut.

“If you grind this Goliosa nut and drink it, it can kill the eggs. Both you and I have just drunk it, so we won’t fall ill for the next three days. But Goliosa won’t work for any other disease, nor will Geriadra. Both of these fruits are very rare. It’s strange, but when Geriadra grows, Goliosa always grows too. I was surprised to see that there were many Goliosa growing around this mountain. We have to find Geriadra and burn them down. It’s the duty of a physician,” the old woman explained to Bard.

3

Eventually, Bard felt well enough to travel and mounted Stavros. He felt bad adding his own weight and equipment to the load, but he felt that delaying their departure any longer was not wise. They traveled along the river for a while and were relieved to discover that the spot where he had fallen into the river was not far from their campsite. Bard was able to guide the old woman without error to the spot where the purple berries grew.

“This is amazing,” Bard said when they arrived at the mountainside where Geriadra grew. They were packed so tightly that it could comfortably accommodate fifty huts. Green stems, the size of fingers, twisted and reached upward, eventually growing as tall as human shoulders. At the end of each stem was a bumpy, protruding fruit. The fruit was green when young, but grew into a toxic purple colour as it matured. Once the fruit had grown fully, it ruptured and spread poisonous eggs. The fruit that has ruptured looks like a monster with its mouth wide open ready to bite a victim.

“Despite the large number of Geriadra, there were few ripe fruits to be found. It looks like we made it in time.” said the old woman.

The eggs could be carried away by the wind and would end up causing much harm. There are no settlement nearby, and it was not a popular path for travellers to pass through, there will be considerable damage somewhere if left uncontrolled.

As Bard thought about that, the old woman said something terrifying.

“When the egg enters the human body, the host will sleeps like the dead. The egg hatches inside the host, grows by eating the host’s corpse, and lays more eggs. The insects prefer the deeper parts inside a person’s body. But as it eats away at the depths of a body, eggs overflow from the surface of the corpse. Those overflowing eggs are carried away by the wind and attach to the next host. Once it reaches that point, no one can stop it anymore. An egg that flew away from a single host will wipe out an entire village and eventually the country would perished.”

Bard asked if there were any countries that had been destroyed before.

Bard thought that if there was an insect that brought such a calamity, more should be known about it.

The old woman let out a creepy laugh and said, “There might have been.”

4

Night was already approaching. The two walked down to the river and decided to camp. Bard caught fish and the old woman picked wild vegetables. Bard put a pot of water on an improvised stove. The old woman put a little bit of dried wood and leaves under the pot and said, “Start the fire.”

He thought it would be better to gather a little more firewood, but following the old woman’s words, he struck the flint and burned the dry leaves, then quickly layered thin dead wood to make a fire. With half-closed eyes, the old woman opened both hands towards the fire, and murmured something in her mouth. She seemed to be humming a tune. Then the fire began to spread to the surrounding dead wood one after another.

The sight seemed unnatural to Bard’s eyes. The wood wasn’t yet in a state where it should be burning, so why was it burning? It was as if the flames had wills and were walking around. In an instant, a big flame shot up and began to heat the pot, but that sight was also unnatural. The fire was too strong and too big for the amount of firewood. And the dried wood that should have already burned out didn’t burn out.

“A spell (jutsu) always needs a seed. Creating something out of nothing is the work of gods. There are not many people who can do that. However, if there is a small seed, it can be made bigger or made to look bigger,” the old woman said.

“Ask for the power to make the flames burn and the power to burn with the flames, to all contained in the leaves, the withered trees, the flames, the wind, and to all that belongs to them, ” muttered the old woman while swaying and holding her two palms over the flames.

Shortly thereafter, water began to boil. Bard thought it was too soon. The old woman took out Bard’s dried meat and cut it into the pot. Next, she added yams, mountain vegetables, a little rock salt, and seasonings. The small withered wood showed no sign of burning itself out.

“So, when you have to face Nogelga (yojutsu magic) and Noel (majutsu witchcraft), you have to be sure to discern the principles and have a firm heart. If you do that, there’s nothing to worry about,” said the old woman.

While listening to the old woman’s words, Bard grilled the fish he skewered. He also felt like asking about the wonderful technique the old woman had demonstrated, but he felt that he should listen and keep it in his heart for now. Bard might have witnessed something that completely reversed all his knowledge about life, but he didn’t feel even a little bit of ominous or threatening presence. Rather, he thought that the right knowledge and procedure had brought about what should be, and he just didn’t know it.

After a leisurely meal, Bard drank the prescribed medicine while listening to the old woman’s instruction. Stavros was eating nearby grass. Horses, except when they eat good hay or vegetables, spend about half of their waking hours eating the grass nearby. It had eaten two big yams today and had time to eat slowly in the morning, so Stavros was in a good mood. In order to maintain their strength, the two people and one animal went to bed early.

5

In front of the old woman, a pile of firewood is stacked high. Since there were plenty of Koinenshily trees nearby that were rich in oil, she gathered as many dried branches as possible. In front of her, a bundle of Koinenshily’s long, dried leaves and Porupom’s thin, flat dried leaves are piled up to start the fire.

The stems of Geriadra are easily cut off. While it takes some time to cut off all the stems that are currently growing, it’s not impossible. However, if you do that, the stems underground will remain. This group of plants is connected by roots that grow underground, and in a sense, the entire group is one Geriadra. Geriadra is originally a plant with weak vitality, and even if it sprouts, it withers quickly. However, once it grows to a certain size, it becomes incredibly strong and begins to grow, driving out other plants and extending its above-ground stems. To destroy this cursed plant, the only way is to burn the underground stems with a large fire.

As for the question of where the insects in Geriadra come from, the old woman answered that she didn’t know.

It’s said that Geriadra’s fruit always contain insect eggs. Perhaps those insects are not insects at all, but rather plants that behave like insects, and conversely, Geriadra may appear to be an animal that looks like a plant. If there’s a chance to meet a wise scholar someday, the old woman said she’d like to ask them.

“I’ll leave it to you,” said the old woman.

At the old woman’s signal, Bard struck the flint. Sparks flew, and the Porupom leaves burned small. The fire quickly spread to five or six leaves, and then the brown Koinenshily leaves began to crackle and burn. Bard quietly stepped back so as not to get in the way. The old woman closed her eyes, clasped her hands together, and began to chant something. The whispered chant, which were chanted so softly that they could not be heard, gradually grew louder.

It was a language Bard had never heard before. He had no idea what it meant. The ritual being chanted has a flowing rhythm like that of a skilled musician’s song, and finally it is engraved into the air. The chanted eulogy carved a serene rhythm like that of a skilled musician’s voice. The figure of the old woman who recited it was no longer hunched over and did not seem weak anymore. The old woman opened both her arms wide. Suddenly flames burst out and spread throughout the pile of firewood. Bard felt his skin burn for a moment from the rushing heat wave.

He started to walk down the slope. The old woman had told him to take refuge in the wetlands beyond the valley if the fire properly started. The horse had already been moved along with the old woman’s luggage. Bard wondered if it was safe for the old woman herself if even he had to go as far as that.

“I already told you that I’m fine even if I’m be burned by the fire,” she replied.

Bard doubted if that was true, but decided to follow the wise physician’s instructions obediently. Before he left, Bard turned around to make sure of the fire’s condition, and saw a gigantic Rowagle (shield frog) attacking the old woman.

Bard drew his sword and ran toward it.

Despite having the name “Wagle” (frog), Rowagle was a type of Nada (lizard).

It was called a frog due to its flattened out shape that seemed like it was crushed, however it was quite hard to spot because of its mottled green and yellow-brown pattern that blended so well with the trees and grass around it. The first half of its huge body was its mouth, and its jagged teeth were densely packed, with a terrifying killing power that could make one shudder. Its skin was unnaturally hard and smooth, and it had an armor-like exoskeleton, making it difficult to inflict effective damage with a sword. The Rowagle (shield frog) that was now attacking the old woman was so massive that Bard had no memory of ever seeing one this big, its body length obviously exceeding that of an average person.

He prayed, “Please make it in time.”

As he approached, the Rowagle opened its jaws and leaped. Bard jumped too. Just as the monster-like mouth of the Rowagle was about to reach the old woman’s waist, Bard tackled it from the side. Bard body-slammed the Rowagle just before its monster-like mouth reached the old woman’s waist. The attack missed her by a hair’s breadth, partially thanks to Bard’s reckless charge, and hit a small log that had fallen when they were gathering firewood, igniting a blaze. It was so hot that Bard brushed the burning bits off himself with a grimace. Slowly but surely, the Rowagle turned in Bard’s direction as if recognizing him as its opponent.

Bard needed to draw the Rowagle’s attention and escape at the same time. As he tried to stand up, he felt a sharp pain in his chest and waist.

“Oh no.” He couldn’t run at full speed in this state.

Zazaza zaza ~tsu (SFX quick walk or running)

Then, the Rowagle closed in on Bard with a buzzing noise. It had short limbs but moved suprisingly quicker than Bard anticipated. It didn’t move in a straight line, instead zigzagging 10 to 20 steps before taking a breath and repeating the process. Finally, it would pounce onto its prey.

Bard tried to predict where the Rowagle would attack and at the last moment darted to the right, making for a densely packed area of trees and hoping to seal off the Rowagle’s attack routes. To Bard’s surprise, the Rowagle’s turning and speed were faster than he expected, but he avoided the attack three times and finally managed to jump into the woods. Just above them, the Rowagle struck an unlucky tree, breaking it in half. Bard was thrown off but the tree trunk kept him from being caught in the wagle’s massive jaws.

He fled to a crowded area of trees that the wagle couldn’t enter. But that didn’t mean he was safe. The monster wagle made a sudden leap, contorting in midair and flying through the gaps in the trees almost horizontally, attacking Bard from a completely unexpected angle. It was at that moment his left hand came into contact with something.

There was something that touched Bard’s left hand. It’s a piece of wood that fell when he was gathering firewood. The Rowagle had opened its mouth wide and revealed its jagged teeth and slimy, venomous mouth. Bard shoved a splintered piece of wood deep into its mouth, preventing the wagle from closing its jaws. The wagle tried to devour Bard’s left arm, but he refused to let go of the lodged splinter and fell while being entangled with the creature.

The wagle tried to tear off his left arm, but he didn’t try to pull his thrust hand. The eyes of the wagle filled with raging flames, and its mouth opened wide to try to chew Bard to death. But Bard did not run away. He jumped into the wagle’s mouth with his whole body. He thrust his sword deep into the wagle’s body, again and again. He aimed for its heart.

Then, the wagle violently writhed and flung Bard away. Bard could not stand up, and his head was the only thing he could raise to look at the frog. The frog fell to its back, twitching convulsively. Its movements gradually became smaller and slower, and soon it died.

Defeating a Rowagle alone, especially with a sword, was a great accomplishment.

“I still have my skill,” Bard thought, admiring his bad luck.

He could neither run away nor stand up. His face, beard, and hands were all covered in the wagle’s blood and bodily fluid. He turned his head and looked at the old woman.

There was a sight that made him doubt his eyes. The blazing flames burned the trees of the mountain one after anotherand surrounded the grove of strange plants. The flames attacked the entire grove.

They burned. And they keep burning.

Bard felt a scorching heat on his skin. But Bard’s attention was not focused on the pain, the heat, or even the irregular flames attacking as if they had their own will. In front of the stacked firewood, a woman stands, singing a song that controls the flames. Her hands are open, raised high. A young and beautiful woman stands alone.

Her hair, which was supposed to be pure white, has become waist-length black hair, which flutters richly in the wind created by the flames. Her tattered travel clothes have become translucent thin garments, and illuminated by the flames, and her bewitching body is vividly revealed.

All Bard can see is her back, and he cannot see her face. However, Bard did not doubt that her face was youthful and unbelievably beautiful. The sight of the flames and the figure of the woman controlling them somehow exude divinity and bring peace to Bard’s heart. Fanned by the hot wind, Bard muttered the name of the god he worship and let go of his consciousness.

6

Bard was transported to the marshes without him noticing and received treatment. The fire continued to burn for three days and three nights, burning the roots of Geriadra.

For the next month, Bard traveled with the old woman. The old woman taught Bard about various herbs and recipe. She also imparted knowledge about edible plant roots and cooking methods. Bard was a little annoyed at being made to drink a bitter, thick medicine that supposedly made him less susceptible to disease and more resistant against poison every day. When Bard asked if there was a medicine to cure the pain in his waist and shoulders, he received a non-answer that “old age is not an illness”.

During the first month, they arrived at a place where they could see a settlement. The Great Ova River was not far away. Walking from Pakula to the Ova River would take ten days at the quickest. Although they had luggage, it was quite a slow journey, taking over two months on foot.

It was a satisfactory journey. Bard had a rare experience and learned various new knowledge. When he arrived in Linz, he thought he would write a letter to Pakula. He turned back to say thank you, but the old woman had disappear.