Chapter 86

Chapter 86

Urich's fingers were dirty. Each and every one of his fingers were caked with dirt.

"Your last wish sure is messy, gramps."

Urich grumbled and laughed. He dug a grave big enough to lay one person, deep in the forest, far from the pond.

'I dug the earth tirelessly, and there you lie, looking utterly at peace.'

Urich dragged Ferzen's body and dumped it into the pit.

"Phew."

After catching his breath, Urich looked up at the sky. The day was turning to dusk. Night bugs were crawling around his feet.

Crunch.

Urich caught a cricket and chewed it noisily. He indiscriminately popped any insects he could catch into his mouth.

"Tsk."

Urich spat out a cricket leg stuck between his teeth and glared at Ferzen again.

"What the hell was that about at the end, huh? Why bring up Ulgaro there? Shouldn't you have called out to Lou? Like, ‘Oh, Lou!’ Huh?"

There was no reply. Urich pouted and sprinkled a handful of dirt over Ferzen's face.

He wanted to grab Ferzen by the scruff of his neck and give him a good slap across his dead face. If Ferzen were to somehow come back to life, Urich would do just that.

"Ah, that is so disgustingly annoying."

Urich cracked his neck and got up. He covered Ferzen with the soil that he had dug out.

'Ulgaro.'

He was the god of the barbarians, not of the civilized. Ferzen of Civilization, Ferzen the Knight of All Knights, the Sword Demon Ferzen. He was the symbol of civilization's victory over the barbarians. And yet, he died calling out the name of the northern god.

'The world would go crazy if they knew what he just did.'

When did Ferzen start believing in the northern god? Urich had no way of knowing the answer to his question. Just as many barbarians were influenced by the faith of Solarism, Ferzen of civilization could have very well been influenced by northern mythology. Ferzen must have hidden this fact all his life.

‘In the end, he managed to use me for his own good.'

What a man who believed in Ulgaro feared the most was not death. It was dying in bed like a sick person, not as a warrior. Cheêck out latest novels at novelhall.com

'Ferzen, too, was just a wanderer who was simply seeking a place for his own burial.'

Ferzen had joined this civil war so he could die. That's why he, even at his age, charged at the forefront of the lines. He was hoping that someone's sword would kill him. Deliberately dying was not allowed, and he had to die fighting bravely. But who would dare kill the legendary Ferzen? How many had the courage and skill to do so?

"And that's why he chose me."

Urich was a strong warrior, and he had a motive to kill Ferzen. He had plainly fallen for Ferzen's provocation.

"You look like you died a happy death. You look peaceful, you old Sword Demon. I still haven't heard how you held off a hundred men on that bridge."

Urich finished covering the body with the dirt. He stomped it down solidly and covered the grave spot with bushes. It would be troublesome if someone managed to find Ferzen who was now supposedly missing.

"Were you satisfied with the life you lived?"

The corpse gave no answer. But it seemed as if Urich was hearing Ferzen's laughter echoing in his ears.

'Even death is unfair.'

Urich thought of Bachman. Bachman didn't want to die. He suffered, struggling, longing to live even just a second longer. What would Bachman say if he saw Ferzen dying a satisfactory death?

"Anyway, I believe everything you said, gramps. You wouldn't have told anyone. Whether the emperor manages to discover what lies beyond the mountains or not, it was going to happen after your death, anyway.”

To Ferzen, dying as a warrior was all that mattered. Nothing else was worth his concern. Urich felt like he vaguely understood the old general.

"It seems like they couldn't find the body. This way, Ferzen will remain a legendary figure," Urich muttered.

"As more time passes, rumors that the Sword Demon is still alive will always be around. That's how legends work."

Occasional rumors around the camp that Ferzen was seen fishing alone in the woods or living self-sufficiently by hunting wild animals in leather clothes were already starting to spread. With each rumor, search parties were sent, but no trace of Ferzen was ever found.

"Sven, have a word with me in a bit," Urich said as he glanced at the other northerners. The northerners read his signal and discreetly dispersed, taking some meat with them.

"Tell me, Urich. I noticed you've been wanting to say something since the other day. Is it about Ferzen?"

"Yeah, it's about Ferzen."

"To be honest with you, I've been waiting for days to hear how that Sword Demon met his end," Sven's eyes sparkled as he brought a bottle of liquor. He urged Urich to continue.

"Damn, this is some strong stuff."

Urich gulped down the honey mead like it was beer, feeling like he was swallowing a bottle of flames.

Urich’s eyes blurred. He was not present in the current moment but was reliving the past with Ferzen. A pang of ache hit his left chest. Urich massaged it.

'I really didn't want to kill you.'

Urich liked Ferzen. He was a magnificent warrior, a man worthy of his respect. He had wanted to spend more time alongside him. If Ferzen had called him to fight in a battle that was futile, he still would have rushed in.

'A man who lived and died a warrior. He never even considered a life where he wasn’t a warrior.'

Urich was going to pour the rest of his liquor into the fire, but he changed his mind and poured it on the ground. Sven's eyes widened.

"Ferzen was fishing. I asked him if he caught any fish, and he said he was fishing for time. I laughed it off as nonsense," Urich said as he squinted, recounting his time with Ferzen. Sven just nodded, listening intently.

Crackle.

The fire flared.

“He told me to bury him if he died. And can you guess what his last words were?"

Sven's pupils dilated. His limbs trembled slightly, and the cup in his hand shook.

"Ulgaro..." Sven sighed. Urich chuckled.

"Yes, Ulgaro."

Sven held up his head with his hand, sinking into deep contemplation.

'Why would our greatest enemy... '

How many brothers had Sword Demon Ferzen's hands and swordplay sent to their deaths? How many warriors had he sent to Ulgaro's side? And yet, he sought the Field of Swords, calling out Ulgaro's name.

"That doesn’t make sense. I’m telling you that it’s impossible."

Even the ever-composed Sven shook his head repeatedly.

"But it's true. And it seems he had believed in your northern god for quite some time."

Sven gulped his drink. His shock was greater than Urich’s.

"I don't know how I’m supposed to process this."

"To me, at least, Ferzen died a warrior's death. Just like the northern warriors I've seen. He didn't try to die nobly, talking about honor or whatever. He fought until the end, rolling on the ground, kicking my groin. He really died fighting until the very last moment."

The scene was vivid in Sven’s mind. He gritted his teeth.

"Then I have no choice but to accept it. Whether Ulgaro welcomed Ferzen to the Field of Swords or not, I'll see for myself when I get there."

Sven resignedly said. Whether Ferzen truly had the soul of the north was for Ulgaro to judge.

"Sven, tell me more about the northern god tonight. Let's hear about this seductive god who managed to sway the Sword Demon," Urich slapped his knee, laughing. His face was flushed with alcohol.

"...That is blasphemy. In my opinion, you're in for divine punishment. Whether that’s from Lou or Ulgaro."

Sven scowled.