Chapter 107: The Tales of Cinder [1]
They continued walking, searching for some kind of passage that would lead them to their destination.
Along the way, they admired the old architecture of the capital castle of Axorhibis, which inside was a luxurious palace that reflected the life of the king who once ruled these lands.
On both sides, massive walls rose—excessively detailed with hand-carved stone and marble bricks that formed a structure now corroded by the ash curse.
Tattered dark blue banners still hung quietly from the walls. There were decorations of empty suits of armor and the occasional chandelier made of crystal and metal that had fallen to the ground long ago.
From time to time, they came across works of art depicting the Goddess of Light, which, as expected, had been slowly devoured by ash. These were murals carved into the walls, all centered around the same deity.
Looking closely at one of the walls, they could all appreciate the history of this kingdom, for even trapped within the stone, that very history portrayed the Goddess as a kind being who guided humans in war against other kingdoms.
She was shown leading from the front alongside humans, pointing toward enemies riding their horses while sunlight illuminated the path of the allied soldiers.
Monar extended his hand and brushed the mural. His eyes reflected the admiration only someone who loved mysteries and history could have. Somehow, that made Mitsuki feel nostalgic as he looked at it.
"Who was the Goddess of Light, really?" he asked, breaking the silence that had lingered among them for a while.
Monar sighed.
"In ancient times, thousands of years ago perhaps, when the corpse of the God of Time had barely begun to become what would later be known as the Land of Tears, in Nemoria it was said that the Goddess of Light, Teara, felt a certain fascination toward humans as a race, so she observed them in silence. At some point, she began to intervene among them and help them with their problems."
Running his fingers over the figures of knights riding their horses across the valley depicted in the mural, Monar frowned as if trying to recall more.
"In gratitude for the Goddess’s kindness, the humans of the Land of Nemoria offered their prayers and faith to her, turning Teara into the most revered figure in this part of the world."
"But she had her problems," Marco added. "Despite being a deity, she had the same flaws as humans. Among those humans, she found her favorites."
Azel stepped forward.
"It was a story the orphanage owner used to tell us. The legend of the Prince of Misfortune and his greatest love, Princess Cinderella."
Mitsuki’s breath caught when he heard those names...
[ Your title "Prince of Misfortune" is active. ]
At that very moment, the ground trembled, and a powerful, agonizing roar echoed through every corner of the palace. Ash dust fell from the ceiling, and the group had to brace themselves against the walls to avoid collapsing to their knees.
Their curse-resistant shields activated, protecting them from the danger of the ash.
Mitsuki scanned his surroundings. His breathing trembled.
’Even from this far away, I can feel that monster’s power in my bones.’
It was just as terrifying as that black knight.
He looked at Monar and the others, expecting them to say something about turning back or giving up, but they all seemed especially serious about the situation.
Of course, they were here because there was no other choice, so despite the fear that overwhelming presence instilled in them, they chose to stand firm in their decision.
Mitsuki had his doubts, but if they did nothing, they would die anyway.
"Are we going to keep going?" he asked, wanting to clear his doubts.
The others took a moment to respond.
"We’ll continue as we have. Let’s move faster," Marco said, taking the lead of the group.
Mitsuki looked at him with concern, but shook his head and followed without complaining. If there was one thing he knew, it was that these adventurers more or less knew what they were doing—unlike him, who had chosen to hide for so long instead of facing misfortune head-on.
He glanced at the mural one last time, thinking about what Azel had said.
’Maybe it was obvious, but I didn’t want to believe it.’
Arthur was the Prince of Misfortune—that much his memories had revealed so far. At least now, one piece of this tangled puzzle, whose story kept breaking apart, had finally fallen into place.
How many pieces were left before he could uncover the truth and leave this world? The answer was the same as for many of the questions Mitsuki had already asked himself.
For now, there was no answer.
***
"Finally showed up, Aslan. Took you long enough," Jeanne said, sitting on top of a cut tree stump.
Beside her was Ellegaard, reading calmly with her sword resting against Jeanne’s seat. Together, they were surrounded by the corpses of killer rabbits.
"My apologies for the delay. The cave we used to shelter the horses became completely unusable after a landslide, so I had to rebuild it from scratch and reinforce it with supports."
"The rains near this area have been out of control lately," Ellegaard mentioned, still reading. "There will likely be more landslides. You did well to reinforce it."
"I’m honored by your words, Miss Ellegaard."
"Alright... you don’t have to be so formal all the time. Relax a little—we’ll soon be exploring the surroundings of Holylight in search of traces of the Herald."
"The Herald? Then... is it real?"
"We can’t confirm it one hundred percent, but the probability is still high. Until we find proof, we can’t go back. Besides, I’m sure the entire Kingdom of Amaria is a mess right now, and the news will spread across the Land of Lamus soon enough."
"I see..." Aslan said thoughtfully. "Actually, I found something interesting not far from here. A ruined village with signs of a recent battle. There was a magic circle with a programmed transportation spell."
"You should’ve said that first. That could be a major clue. Jeanne, we’re leaving right now."
The princess sighed.
"At this rate, you’re going to drag me all over Nemoria."
Aslan watched the two of them in silence. Then he looked toward the horizon through the forest, as if sensing something with a faint premonition.