Chapter 27 - Baptism (3)

Chapter 27 – Baptism (3)

Clergyman Gotval taught Urich every evening. It was a good pastime for Gotval as well. He found it fun.

‘He’s extremely fast at learning.’

He took glances at Urich, whose eyes chased the letters that were being written.

Urich remembered most of the things that he saw once. He had an exceptional memory. Everyone that has taught him was amazed by it.

Even on the evening of the third day, Urich went to Gotval to learn the letters. However, now that they were in the mountains, the surroundings were dark.

‘There’s only a few days left now.’

Urich wanted to learn a lot of things from Gotval. He was the only scholar that Urich had ever met.

“Donovan?”

Gotval was sitting down with Donovan. The mercenary was on his knees, praying and saying something.

“Urich, could you please come back later? Donovan is in the middle of his confessions.”

Gotval used his hands to gently wave him away.

“Confession,” Urich muttered to himself.

He has seen the mercenaries do that a number of times before. They say that they tell their sins to cleanse their souls.

“What meaning is there to it?”

Urich leaned against the tree, waiting for the confession to be over.

“Don’t bother Monk Gotval too much, Urich.”

Donovan, who had finished his confessions, spoke while passing by. Even he didn’t forget to show respect towards the clergyman.

“Looks like being a clergyman is some amazing position.”

“It’s because everyone is afraid of the afterlife. There is nothing more terrifying than not being able to walk the right path after death,” responded Gotval.

“When you guys die, your souls are purified by the sun’s fires and are reborn. The Northerners over there go to the Hill of Swords.”

Urich spoke while pointing at Sven and the Northerner.

Gotval paused for a second. Then, he carefully spoke.

“The Hill of Swords is probably not a paradise like the Northerners think it is. Those who have built up karma like that will only face hell. There is no salvation in a place like that. The god of the Northerners is violent and arrogant. He doesn’t love his people. But Ru accepts and loves all life, like the rays of the sun.”

“A god doesn’t necessarily have to love his people, no?”

“Similar to how there is no parent that does not love their child, there is no god that does not love their people.”

Urich picked at his ear and put his arm around Gotval.

“Those are some good words. But why does Ru watch the people that he loves fight each other like that? You say that Ru is a god with overflowing love, but why do we have to hold iron and see each other bleed?”

“That’s because of our original sin. Because man’s desires and sins destroyed the eternal day, the dark night was call—”

“Bullshit. The clergies here are the shamans of this place. I know it. Because every last shaman was a liar!”

‘Where is the world of souls that was supposed to be over the mountain range?’ That question got caught in Urich’s throat.

“I do not lie, Urich,” Gotval responded intensely. He was someone who was deeply religious.

“Well, it’s fine. But what were you talking with Donovan about earlier?”

Urich was always cautious about Donovan. Donovan was constantly, secretively waiting for a chance at the leader position of the mercenary group. He had enough qualifications for it as well.

“Confessions are not words directed to me but to Ru. If it enters my ears once, it does not leave out of my mouth.”

“Hm.”

Urich touched his chin while looking at Gotval. He had an impulse.

‘Wouldn’t Monk Gotval’s big mouth spread wide open if I tortured him by grabbing his neck and tearing his stomach with my axe?’

Everyone squealed like a pig when they were tortured. Torture made people weak.

“Urich?”

Gotval spoke in a worried voice. He felt nervous after hearing Urich’s terrifying laughter. The barbarian kept smiling and laughing after hearing Gotval’s words.

“This is a civilized society. A civilized society. Alright, teach me about civilization now, clergyman.”

Urich bent his head in a crooked way as he sat down. Gotval taught Urich words like he always did. The barbarian had already learned over a hundred of them in the past few days.

“Who did you learn from previously?” Gotval asked Urich during their short break. Urich drank water out of his leather water pouch and wiped his mouth.

“There was a man named Horus who would give me work before. He worked as a middleman for gladiator matches and knew how to write. I learned from him.”

“A merchant should know how to read and write. Where is he now, and what is he doing?”

“He died. It was the night that he was teaching me how to write. He got unlucky and had an arrow hit his neck. He died in front of me without being able to leave a will.”

Gotval then gave a short prayer.

“…I’m sorry to hear that.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. Because I killed all of the ambushers with my hands.”

Urich spoke proudly.

Gotval was overwhelmed by his bloodlust and changed topics.

“So, are you from the South? At first, I thought you were a Northerner, but no matter how much I look at you, you don’t seem like a Northerner.”

“Somewhere around there.”

Since Urich spoke vaguely, Gotval didn’t pry further. Every barbarian that wandered in the imperial territory had a story or two.

Swooosh.

The wind blew. Urich’s hair was stretched out and wavered. His nose throbbed as he discerned the smells that came with the wind. The green smell of the trees and grass, the smell of the stew that was cooked and now cooled down, the smell of sweat and iron.

If he paid attention, he could hear the soldiers’ and mercenaries’ voices. The sounds of the things he was accustomed to faded away, and only the new sounds would flow into his ears like a needle.

Urich’s eyes froze. All of his senses were on alert. He used all of his five senses to develop a sixth sense.

Tiiing.

Inside of the chaos, he discerned only the necessary sounds. Urich reached his hand towards Gotval’s head.

Fffft.

An arrow landed in his palm. If he hadn’t blocked it, the arrow would have pierced through Gotval’s head.

“An ambush! It’s an ambush! Wake up!”

The soldiers responded quickly. They were members of Havirond’s militia who were soldiers by occupation and were well-trained high-quality talents.

CRUSH.

Urich formed a fist to crush the arrow that was stuck in his hand.

“Lower your head and hide right behind me, clergyman.”

Urich rubbed the blood that was flowing from his palms onto his face.

“I don’t want to see my letter teacher dying again.”

Gotval held his breath while hiding behind a tree. He was a clergyman that had never held a sword in his life.

Shhhhk.

Urich’s sword made a clear sound. He glared at his surroundings, waiting for the battle to commence. He planned to charge at them if they attacked again.

‘They ran away.’

Urich knew without even seeing them. Their presence had completely disappeared.

“…So it’s a hit and run. That’s going to be a pain.”

Urich walked into the forest. The nearby soldiers were surprised and looked at him.

“It’s dangerous there! They’re still—”

“They’re gone. They ran away.”

Urich calmly stepped deeper into the forest. He looked at the traces of their ambushers between the trees. There were broken branches and flattened grass.

‘Were there ten of them at most?’

It was a small ambush. Urich’s eyes shone like a beast’s.

“What were the sentries doing? Huh?”

A conflict between the mercenaries and soldiers arose.

It was a predictable situation where an ambush was possible. According to some mercenaries, some sentries were being negligent and were chatting with each other. Three soldiers had serious injuries, and one mercenary died from an arrow.

‘Giggs.’

Urich recited his name in his mind.

The dead mercenary’s name was Giggs. He was there when they were still a gladiator troupe and waited in ambush in the manure with Urich.

“Urich, I saw it! Those bastards were so into their conversation that they weren’t properly doing their job as sentries.”

Vajorn, a mercenary, told Urich. It felt as if a sword fight was imminent.

“Vajorn, who were the ones you saw? The ones that were half-hearted in their jobs as sentries.”

Urich spoke in a low voice. Vajorn pointed at two soldiers.

CRUSH!

Urich charged in and flung the two. He bashed their faces with his fists and kicked their bodies with his feet.

“Keok, argh, urghh.”

The soldiers who were getting hit curled up their bodies like turtles. Urich beat down the two of them with an indifferent look. The other soldiers ran in to prevent him from killing them.

“S-Stop!”

WHAM!

A soldier was knocked out after getting hit by Urich’s arm. There was blood dripping out of Urich’s hands. He was almost about kill someone with his bare hands.

“U-Uwargh—I-I’m sorry!”

One of the soldiers thought that he was going to die at that rate and started to murmur his apologies.

“What is going on?!” Marshal Seton yelled as he walked over.

“It’s okay if people who are lazy as sentries die.”

Urich spoke while lifting up a soldier by the collar. He was on the verge of being beaten to death.

“Let go of my soldier right this instant, mercenary leader!” Seton demanded. His hand reached for his sword.

“My brother is already dead. He can’t come back.”

Urich spoke while releasing the soldier.

“If you lay your hands on one of my soldiers again, your head will fly off before the bandits’ do.”

Seton’s lone eye was opened wide. His bloodlust was flowing.

‘Damn barbarian.’

His lost eye was throbbing. Seton hated barbarians. The one that took his left eye was a barbarian.

“Urich, that’s enough.”

Bakman stopped Urich. Urich then returned to the other mercenaries.

The bandits’ ambush was a success. There was now an unsettling mood in the subjugation force. They constantly checked their surroundings and read the mood.

Click, clack.

The mercenaries gathered firewood and burned Giggs’s corpse.

“Ru, your son is returning to you. Please pity this poor, sinful soul…”

Gotval spoke a funeral prayer.

“At least a proper clergyman is guiding you, Giggs. You won’t be wandering in this world.”

Donovan smiled bitterly as he spoke. He had a close relationship with the now-deceased Giggs. He was one of the members of Donovan’s clique.

Fsssss.

Donovan poured wine over the corpse’s fire.

“I heard that you swung your fists for Giggs, Urich. I owe you one.”

Donovan spoke while looking at Urich. Their faces reflected the orange light from the blazing fire.

“There’s nothing to owe me for. Our mercenary group’s name is Urich’s Brothers. Even if it were you who died, Donovan, I would grieve and rage for you.”

Urich spoke calmly and watched the flames. He tried to look for Giggs’s soul in the burning fire.

‘I can’t see souls with my eyes. Are clergymen and shamans able to see souls?’

In Sol, they cremated the corpse. They believed that the flames sent the soul to the Sun God.

“Gotval.”

Urich called over Gotval who had finished the funeral ceremony. The clergyman turned around to look at him.

“How is your hand?”

Urich’s palm was injured while trying to protect him.

“Seeing how I can move it properly, there isn’t an issue.”

Urich spoke while clenching and opening his hand.

“I am truly grateful for you protecting me, Urich.”

Gotval spoke with courtesy.

“It wasn’t much. Well, we live by helping each other here and there. Right?”

“Mercy and love are some of Ru’s teachings,” said Gotval as he chuckled.

“I’m someone who’s far from mercy and love. How funny. Have you guided my brother Giggs to the sun well?”

“He should have safely returned to Ru’s side.”

“I have something that I’m curious about, clergyman.”

Urich stood up. He was a head taller than Gotval.

“…I don’t believe in Sol or the Northerners’ god. My afterlife doesn’t exist anywhere. Where do I go when I die, then?”

He was always curious about it. The afterlife that Urich knew had already collapsed. Beyond the mountain range was a world of the living.

‘Where are my ancestors’ and brothers’ souls? And where will my soul go?’

Gotval went into deep thought and opened his mouth with difficulty.

“Then the only thing left is for you to become an evil spirit that wanders this world. While forgetting your original self…”

After hearing that, Urich sat back down. He tilted his head to the side and stared at the darkness and then at the flames. Back and forth.

That night, he dreamt.

His ancestors who had returned to the earth as well as his brothers who had left first were wandering this world. They were unable to find rest and were wandering around, suffering. The evil spirits were waiting for him to die.

‘The resting ground for our souls has disappeared, Urich. It’s because of you! You have discovered the world of the living. Know your sin. You will soon come here as well!’

The evil spirits cackled.

If a barbarian didn’t cross the mountain range, the world beyond the mountain range would have remained a world of souls. His ancestors’ souls would have been peacefully resting here. Urich’s eyes had destroyed their rest.

The moment that Urich discovered what was beyond the mountain range, it no longer became a world of souls.

“Haaaaah.”

Urich woke up from his sleep while exhaling hard.

Badump, badump.

Urich’s heart was racing from anxiety. He pulled out his sword while looking at the stars still visible at dawn. He held the cold blade close to his cheek. His anxiety and agitation settled, as if they were being transferred over to the blade.

‘Is it an evil spirit?’

Urich still looked into the dark forest. Every time the campfire swayed, it was as if the evil spirits in the darkness swayed with it.

Even though it was still early dawn, Urich didn’t go back to sleep. He looked to the East and patiently waited for the sun to rise.

‘Bakman always said that at the end of the land in the East, there’s a vast sea. And at the end of the sea is the world’s edge.’

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