Chapter 50
Arrow Leaving the Demonstration (9)
Hanromi gently held a small potted plant with purple leaves that shimmered mysteriously.
I couldn’t even begin to understand what this tiny plant meant to Hanromi or what she intended to make with it.
Still, seeing Hanromi, who usually had muted emotions, clutch the pot tightly was simply astonishing.
“I’ll be going now…”
“I hope many lives are saved.”
“They will be…”
Hanromi fixed her gaze on the pot and walked slowly. She would probably go to Provel and join the strategy team.
Only after the sound of her bare feet stepping on the grass faded did Gilliad burst into laughter.
“I thought she’d give up in ten minutes, but she managed to clean it all up.”
Gilliad’s back was smoother than before.
The two hours spent cleaning it flashed through my mind, and I murmured faintly,
“She really wanted it, didn’t she.”
“You too, Hae. I only made you do it to chase that person away—I didn’t expect you’d follow through to the end.”
‘This old man…?’
My hands were still numb, and if he intended to be that kind-hearted, he should have saved me sooner.
Perhaps sensing my resentment creeping into my expression, Gilliad chuckled again.
“So, what exactly did you need to go through all that trouble for?”
Tilting his head as if to prompt me to speak, Gilliad stared at me.
The intruder was gone, so now it was my turn to ask what I truly wanted to know.
I opened my mouth to the gentle smile Gilliad gave.
“Do you know about the Ancient Oath?”
At that, Gilliad’s expression changed instantly.
The kindly grandfatherly face I had just seen vanished in an instant.
In its place was the solemn look that only someone bearing the duty of recording could have.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, I want to know. About the Ancient Oath.”
There was no point in beating around the bush. I nodded heavily, carrying the weight of Gilliad’s responsibility in my gesture.
“Come inside. Let’s have some tea while we talk.”
Gilliad slowly walked into the house.
The interior, infused with warmth and signs of lived-in life, felt cozy.
The scent of soil and grass rose from various corners, and the tea smelled comforting.
But even after finishing half the tea and letting the cup cool, Gilliad didn’t speak.
‘What is it? Is this really that serious?’
Most people would wait patiently when someone looked that serious, but I was a bit impatient.
I asked carefully,
“Is it a difficult matter?”
“No, not difficult. Just…”
After staring at me for a long while, Gilliad finally spoke with a heavy expression.
“That… is something even I don’t know.”
“Excuse me?”
I tilted my head like a raccoon washed in cotton candy.
He looked so serious, I thought there was something big, but… did I just get tricked?
Just as I was about to protest, Gilliad continued slowly.
“To be precise, I’ve forgotten. It’s something I have no memory of.”
Honestly, I thought, well, that could happen.
Gilliad probably never personally performed the Ancient Oath; if he only heard about it, he might have forgotten.
But he meant it in a completely different way than I imagined.
“Turtle beastmen have a special ability—they can pass on their memories to their descendants. That’s why we bear the duty of recording.”
“…So you remember everything?”
“Yes. That’s how it’s supposed to be.”
Gilliad let out a deep sigh and continued.
“I’ve lived for a long time with a question. Memories of a time when humans and beastmen reconciled through the Ancient Oath and lived without hatred. At least in my memory, there was no such peace.”
Did he have a serious story behind this?
I stiffened and listened carefully.
It sounded like everything related to ‘peace’ had been completely forgotten.
‘Just like before the Cantana Peace Accord mentioned in the scenario.’
Humans and beastmen had fought bloody wars.
Through the Cantana Peace Accord, they coexisted for a hundred years.
But now, with wars erupting again, it was no different from before that accord.
“There is a record that humans and beastmen achieved peace through the Ancient Oath. The ancestors’ records don’t lie, so it must have really happened.”
At that moment, I realized what the Ancient Oath truly was.
“Could that be the Cantana Peace Accord?”
Gilliad’s small eyes widened.
“How do you know that?”
Bingo.
The only way to bring the two races together is to revive the Ancient Oath—that is, the Cantana Peace Accord.
“On the day the Ancient Oath was made, humans and beastmen named it the Cantana Peace Accord.”
“Why did such an important accord collapse?”
“I can probably answer that. The magical tower collapsed.”
“The magical tower?”
Suddenly, a random magical tower?
I asked in confusion,
“How does the collapse of a magical tower relate to the accord?”
“The Ancient Oath wasn’t just words. It was engraved onto an object, blessed by the god Oerisa, and stored in the magical tower. That’s what the records say.”
“It was stored in the magical tower?”
“Yes. But the tower was already swallowed by Agemor, and the other items inside would have been corrupted too. Agemor’s influence destroys everything.”
Gilliad muttered gloomily.
‘So the engraving was corrupted by Agemor’s influence too?’
Then the pieces fit together.
The item with the Ancient Oath was destroyed, breaking the accord.
Human-beastmen relations returned to what they were before the accord.
I wanted to just put a human and a beastman representative together, make them shake hands and hug—but they’d try to stab each other first, so it wasn’t a viable option.
‘Looks like I need to restore that item.’
It’d be great if my repair skill could handle it.
I nodded and asked another question.
“What is that item?”
Gilliad, not bothered by my barrage of questions, answered calmly.
“The item’s name is Paroxia. Its form is not recorded. Whether it’s a sword, an ornament, or a plain document, no one knows.”
Paroxia.
That I, as the open market administrator, knew the name meant I could potentially use a shortcut.
[‘Paroxia’ search results: 0]
Unfortunately, there were no search results.
‘Ah, last time I got lucky, then.’
This time, it wasn’t going to be easy.
“Could a survivor of the magical tower have stolen it and escaped…? Probably not.”
I considered the possibility, but the only thing that came to mind was Onak’s toothy grin.
‘Hmm, the mages were wiped out.’
‘Why?’
‘Because we killed them all.’
At that time, I was so stunned that I just stared blankly…
Still, my destination was set.
Agemor’s influence affects Awakened too, so I’d have to be careful.
‘I’ll go to the magical tower and find this Paroxia.’
There was another reason to go there.
Those who completed Babel Tower research until the end were the tower’s mages, so the research data should still be inside.
I could progress the scenario and handle my personal affairs. Two birds, one stone.
Thinking positively made me smile lightly.
Seeing my smile, Gilliad smiled too.
Then, with apologetic eyes, he patted me gently.
“I think I’ve told you everything recorded. I wish some memory of mine remained…”
“It’s okay, that was enough.”
I’d probably find more once I got to the tower.
“The magical tower is in that direction. I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.”
“No, it’s enough.”
I smiled warmly at the apologetic Gilliad.
Even in his heart, the hatred toward humans must still live.
I didn’t dislike this elderly beastman who was grateful to me just for saving Clara.
Instead, it felt comforting, as if the wound inflicted by Capybara James’s cynicism had healed.
“I’ve finished my tea too.”
I lifted the empty teacup.
It wasn’t really something to apologize for, but seeing someone apologize was a bit awkward.
He even prepared herbs and food to help with leg fatigue, thinking I’d walk.
I’ll ride Nokga Stream…
‘Maybe I’ll just walk a little way out.’
I couldn’t make the elderly, kind adult’s goodwill meaningless.
“Take care.”
“Please tell Echo I’ll come to visit next time.”
Waving to Gilliad, who felt closer somehow, I turned my back without hesitation.
Destination: the magical tower.
I tried to step lightly over the grass Hanromi had passed, then stopped.
“But… Gilliad.”
A strange thought occurred to me.
“Do you have another question?”
I turned slowly.
“You said Paroxia was blessed by the god Oerisa. Shouldn’t it then be kept in Provel?”
One feature of the 51st floor, easily noticeable even with a glance, was its strong religious devotion.
So, Paroxia, blessed by the god, should naturally be stored in a sanctuary.
But Gilliad’s answer surprised me.
“The sanctuary hasn’t existed for long. Only a few years.”
“A few years?”
Can a place just a few years old be called a sanctuary?
I wondered if my Earth-based concept of centuries-old cathedrals was making me biased.
Then Gilliad said something shocking.
“There’s a reason Provel is called a sanctuary.”
“What is it?”
“It’s a space filled with holy energy, surely blessed by Oerisa… but no one is allowed to enter.”
“Not allowed to enter?”
“Both humans and beastmen wish to enter, but the sanctuary permits no entry.”
“…”
“The reason humans and beastmen fight isn’t just instinctive hatred—it’s because they believe only the victor can enter Provel.”
My goodness.
The first thing that came to mind was the strategy team.
Right now, they were trying to seize a prize they couldn’t even reach.
