Chapter 112

Chapter 112

The diligent men and women who were heavily engaged in their livelihoods were the first to convert to Solarism. The last to convert were the warriors and the elderly.

The young of Marldalen, instead of offering the blood of livestock to Ulgaro, went to the Sun Temple and the shrine. They prayed at noon and thanked the sun god.

"People these days are forgetting Ulgaro," a scarred old man lamented. He was surrounded by villagers who still believed in Ulgaro.

The old man slaughtered a sheep and collected its blood in a bowl to use as an offering to Ulgaro.

"Northerners believing in Lou, how absurd is that?"

There were people in Marldalen who still worshipped Ulgaro. They held separate rituals from the followers of Solarism.

Religious conflicts were common in any northern village. Lou was a god too tempting to reject. Lou was different from Ulgaro, who accepted slaughter and blood as offerings.

Sometimes, the conflicts escalated, leading villagers to kill each other. In such cases, the Sun Warriors or the Imperial Army intervened, actively protecting the Solarists.

"Ulgaro, please forgive my daughter," Sven pleaded, smearing the blood of the animal on his face. He participated in the northern rituals with others in Marldalen who still believed in Ulgaro. It was a ritual for the winter hunt as many hunters still remained faithful in Ulgaro.

"One day, Ulgaro will resurrect and lead the northern warriors. When that day comes, those who believed in Solarism will regret it. The day of judgment is not far off," one of the hunters said.

Hunters needed Ulgaro's blessing for a successful hunt. He disapproved of the increasing number of Lou worshippers.

It was hard to stay strong in their faith in Ulgary. The northerners had been defeated in the war. The god of war lost to the god of benevolence. What meaning was left for a defeated god of war? The northerners lost more than just territory. They were losing their root and identity.

"Outsider sir, how many years has it been since you last came home?" the hunter asked Sven after finishing his ritual.

"Its been about five years."

"That's when the changes became more drastic. The sun priests roamed the north freely. A decade ago, it would have been unimaginable. A Sun priest in the north would have been torn limb from limb."

Sven laughed at the comment.

The onlookers also found it hard to believe the changes. The perceived eternal strength of the north had been shattered. Even those who tried to stay strong in resistance eventually succumbed, and the gifts of civilization tempted the northerners.

"It seems there are no longer warriors of Ulgaro in the north," Sven said with a bitter smile, standing up.

"Go to Mulin. The old north is still there."

The northerners dispersed after the ritual. Sven watched their backs. On the other side, people were going to and from the Sun Temple. It was a strange sight, seeing two gods existing in one place.

"Urich, we're leaving tonight," Sven told Urich upon returning to his daughters house. Urich, dozing in front of the fireplace, lifted his head.

"Oh? We should say our goodbyes then."

"No, we'll leave without farewells," Sven insisted firmly and shook his head.

"Youre gonna without saying goodbye? Are you still pouting about what happened the other day?"

"Just listen to me this time."

"Irene and Durigand are good people, Sven."

Urich genuinely thought so. During his three-day stay, he had been treated well. He would risk his life to fight for Irene and Durigand.

"I know that."

Sven went to bed without even eating dinner.

Urich, on the other hand, finished his dinner as usual, laughing and chatting. He couldnt quite fall asleep and opened his eyes deep into the night. There wasn't much to pack, as all he had were his weapons and a travel bag.

"Phew. Take care, Irene, Durigand."

Urich lowly whispered as he stepped outside, pulling his scarf up to his nose. The northern winter night was fiercely cold as if intent on killing a person. A blizzard raged in the distance.

'If this northern weather really is Ulgaro's will, then Ulgaro must indeed be a brutal and cruel god.'

Urich liked Ulgaro. He, like Sven, had grown up as a warrior. He had never considered a life other than that of a warrior. It was natural for Urich to be drawn to Ulgaro.

'Ulgaro is surely a god of warriors.'

But those who were not warriors could not endure Ulgaro's brutality.

"Sven."

Urich went to the barn. Sven's shadow peaked out of the barn.

Youre up, I was just about to wake you up."

Sven was loading luggage onto the horses. The horses wore quilted coats like armor, which was necessary for them to survive in the northern cold.

"Kylios, bear with it a little longer," Urich said as he stroked his horse.

Urich knew how to sense his horse's mood. Kylios disliked going out on a blizzard night.

Clop.

Urich and Sven rode out of Marldalen. A gate guard recognized them and simply nodded.

"Sven! The blizzard is worse than we thought! Lets head back for now!"

Urich raised his voice, stretching his hand forward, looking at the blizzard in the darkness.

"We've already left! We are going!"

"Where are we heading? I just followed you blindly!"

"To Gorigan! The place where I was born and raised!"

"Didnt you say there was nobody there anymore?"

Sven couldn't immediately counterattack. Urich's physical abilities were extraordinary, unlike any other man. Despite the forceful swing, he flawlessly continued his attacks without any gap between his swings.

"Huff!"

Sven blocked Urich's vision with his shield while swinging his axe, a strike coming from Urich's blindspot.

Clang!

Urich jumped to the side, dodging Sven's axe. Sven quickly turned his shield toward Urich after his attack attempt. The fight was intense, neither giving any opening.

Urich, the warrior blessed by the gods. I must finish this with the next strike. I can't hold out any longer.'

Sven gasped for breath. He was suffering from lung disease. But Urich didn't wait for Sven to catch his breath. This wasn't a friendly sparring match to gauge each others skills.

Claang!

Urich's sword clashed with Sven's axe. Urich's sword stuck to Sven's axe. Sven tried to move his axe, but Urich's sword was stuck fast.

Thump!

Urich headbutted Sven's head. Sven staggered backward. Urich then pushed him over with a kick.

Thud.

Sven fell helplessly. The cold metal of Urich's sword touched his neck.

"Let's send Karha back, Sven," Urich said with his sword at Sven's throat.

"That boy is my last hope. If you want to stop me, youll have to send me to the Field of Swords.

Sven slowly stood up. Urich's blade pressed against the leather covering his neck. Sven didn't care if the blade cut into his flesh. He stood up defiantly as if he was daring Urich to kill him.

Urich's face contorted. He had resolved to send Sven to the Field of Swords himself, but not like this. It felt utterly unsatisfying.

"Sigh."

Urich exhaled and planted his sword into the ground. Sven rushed to Karha's side.

"Thank you, Urich," Sven murmured.

"Let's see how well you raise the child as a great warrior after stealing him from his parents, you renowned warrior of the north! Fuck!"

Urich couldnt get himself to kill Sven right there and then. Sven was like a brother to him.

"Karha, you'll thank me later. I'll raise you as the greatest warrior of the north," Sven said, picking up Karha. He looked into Karha's eyes. The boy was shaking with fear.

Sven was a warrior of the north. Since childhood, he naturally engaged in raids and battles. When he was old enough to wield a weapon, he participated in raids. Life in the north was a struggle. To survive, one had to disregard the screams of others.

'One mustn't keep the pain and screams of others in their heart.'

Sven remembered the faces of warriors returning from raids, satisfied even after killing fellow men. It was the joy of being able to feed their families. Warriors sustained their families with the lives of others.

"Why am I..."

Sven fell to his knees, holding Karha, unable to look into the boy's eyes.

'The eyes of the plundered.'

Karha had the eyes of the plundered, and Sven was the raider. Sven was the raider taking everything from Karhahis family and lifeuprooting everything that the boy knew.

'This is wrong.'

A warrior never had to understand the pain and screams of others. But they were also those who raged for their family and brothers. They never ignored their family's pain.

"Guh, guuuuh."

Sven sat, scraping and squeezing the snow with his fingers. Despair deeper than his illness weighed heavily on his heart. He realized what he had done.

"Dammit, Sven. If youve finally come around, let's bring Karha back," Urich grumbled from behind.

"Urich, what should I do now? My offspring isn't a warrior, nor do they believe in Ulgaro. How can I possibly face my ancestors on the Field?"

Sven knelt and wailed. Then he stood up with his axe. He jumped and roared like a raging bear.

"Ulgaro!"

Sven brandished his axe in the air. His voice was lost in the blizzard. The blood he had tried to hold in trickled from his mouth.

"How long will you watch from that Field! When will you come down and save us! After all those who believe in you are gone? What were you doing when we spilled our blood against the empire! Is our blood and life still not enough for you?"

Sven vented his rage. After his outburst, he collapsed. A man as old as one could sit to cry like a child. His tears froze as soon as they touched the snow. The north did not accept the tears of a warrior.

Urich and Sven returned to the village before dawn.

Irene, holding Karha, sprawled all the curse words she knew at her father, and Durigand, who had fetched his weapon from the basement, swallowed a heavy silence.

"I'm sorry, Irene."

Sven had to leave the village without a farewell from his kin.

When the two men were far enough from the village for it to be a dot in the distance, Urich finally spoke.

"Sven, I just want to say one thing."

Sven looked up.

"Youve done this to yourself."

Urich smiled mischievously. Sven scowled.

"Dickhead."