Weapon-Eating Bastard [EN]: Chapter 161

Weapon-Devouring Bastard – Episode 161

Ron and the dwarves from the village crowded into the workshop.

As soon as Bacher heard my story about everything being over, his eyes welled up with tears, and he stroked my hand with his calloused hands.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you so much!”

“It’s nothing. I was just repaying the favor I asked of you.”

“This is different! I, Bacher, the village chief of Black Root Village, will never forget your dedication! No, everyone in our village will never forget it!”

Bacher and the villagers thanked me, their voices thick with emotion.

I smiled awkwardly and returned their greetings.

* * *

Everything was over, and the reunion of the rescued dwarves and residents was complete.

The gloomy atmosphere of the village had transformed into one of brightness and bustling activity.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

The villagers approached me one by one to express their gratitude before returning to their homes.

There were still tasks to be done, such as cleaning up the workshop and preserving evidence, but for now, the villagers, Ron, and I went to sleep.

Around noon the next day, all the villagers packed their tools and headed out to begin repairing the workshop and the forest that had been damaged by my thrown spear.

The dwarves were able to clean up quite quickly, using their innate ability to manipulate earth.

“Hey! Clear that pile of dirt over there!”

“The wall here has collapsed. It will take some time to bake new bricks.”

The dwarves, who had seemed so listless and full of despair, were now brimming with motivation.

While the dwarves were cleaning up the workshop, Ron and I investigated the traces of the organization within.

“Has Master Lee Cheol ever seen a place like this? Sorcery, magic… This is the first time I’ve seen so many things mixed together,” Ron said as he sorted through the evidence in one of the laboratories.

“Me too.”

I frowned and gathered the scattered documents on the desk.

‘Druid-type magic, sorcery tools from the East and West… What is this? A sun-shaped pattern with obsidian… Is it from Peru?’

It was full of traces from all cultures of the East and West, so inconsistently mixed that it was impossible to identify anything specific about these organizations.

“In the end, this is the only clue we’ve salvaged about who they are,” Ron muttered, looking at a symbol engraved on the wall.

Ron and I searched the laboratory and the belongings of those who had been here, finding a common symbol: a hexagon with circles at each vertex, connected by lines, along with numerous letters and symbols.

The symbol was quite well-known throughout the world.

‘The Tree of Sephirot [a Kabbalistic symbol representing the emanations of God].’

A symbol often used in Jewish mysticism and in various magical systems influenced by Hebraism.

“It’s a very common symbol, but seeing them use it so frequently like this, it might be some kind of religious group, or maybe a Middle Eastern terrorist organization.”

“First, we need to organize all this evidence and investigate it. I don’t know what we’ll find.”

I fiddled with a bronze hexagonal necklace and tossed it onto the desk.

Ron and I continued to sort out the evidence and hazardous materials.

“How did they suppress the dwarves’ power?”

“They must have dealt with dwarves somewhere else before. They must have obtained the method from there.”

“……Yes?”

“Bacher told me that they were manipulating earth even before the residents were kidnapped.”

“Then somewhere else…….”

“I’m not sure, but it’s highly likely.”

“They are people I can’t even think of as human beings. Who the hell are they?”

I didn’t answer and took a deep breath.

I had no evidence or basis, but I was sure that they were the organization called Six Nights.

‘Six Nights… I need to find out more.’

I felt an ominous premonition, like a looming destiny, a premonition that I would continue to be involved with them in the future.

After that, the work continued.

It would have taken quite a long time if human workers had done it, but the dwarf residents completed it in less than half a day. Rather, Ron’s and my work was delayed because there were many items that were cursed or magically sensitive.

Anyway, as dusk fell and the stars and moon rose in the night sky, we held a requiem [a ceremony of remembrance for the dead].

* * *

The residents of Black Root Village gathered in the village square.

A large bonfire burned in the center, and everyone sat in a circle around it.

Boom-.

Bacher, the village chief of Black Root Village, beat the drum.

-Ah ah!

And a dwarf began to chant.

Boom! Koong!

The sounds of pipes and guitar-like instruments held by each person followed, and on top of that, the voices of all the villagers swelled.

-Aaaah! Aaaah! Woo-ah!

-Woo-ah! Aaaah!

The dwarves sang a song with no lyrics, only sounds, not made with the vocal cords of the flesh, but with the voice of the earth.

Born as the incarnation of the earth, they commemorated the spirits of those who returned to the earth, singing not with their own voices, but with the voice of the earth granted to their race.

The earth trembled.

It was neither a sad nor a joyful tone, but a calm song, like a river flowing through the forest, like a tree branch swaying in the wind in the middle of the night.

When the song was over, the dwarves grabbed a handful of dirt from the ground and threw it into the tall bonfire in the center.

Ron and I also grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it into the fire.

The requiem was over, but the gathering was not.

“Euhahaha! Drink up!”

“Waaaaaaah! Tonkin is chugging an entire orc barrel!”

A festival was underway.

Unlike the requiem, which was held quite solemnly, it was a festive atmosphere that could be seen anywhere.

As befits dwarves, who are famous for being heavy drinkers, they drank alcohol like water, and all kinds of hunted meats and dishes were spread around.

Ron and I wore sullen expressions.

“Keuheuheuh, this is the dwarves’ way, you guys,” Hurundat approached, chuckling, as if he had read our expressions. He held a large pig’s trotter in his left hand and a stout beer in his other.

“The guys who have returned to the embrace of the earth don’t want us to be pathetic and cry! Remembering them by making more noise, laughing, drinking, and eating more is our way.”

“Heh… I’m not used to it, but, um. I remember hearing about funeral customs that include festivals in some areas of Africa.”

Anyway, since this is the dwarves’ way, we have no choice but to follow it.

And so the festival deepened.

* * *

I watched the festival from a distance. Ron had challenged the dwarves to a drinking contest, was easily K.O.’d [knocked out], and was lying next to me, sleeping.

“How is it? Are you enjoying the festival?”

Bacher slowly approached, poured wine into my glass, and sat next to me.

“Yes, it’s enjoyable.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Hehe. In the old days, humans used to call us barbaric when they saw us commemorating the spirits like this.”

“I don’t think so at all. It’s just that we’re different.”

Bacher held out his glass, and I tapped it lightly with mine.

“I appreciate it.”

Bacher gulped down the wine and looked at the festive scene.

“I’ve heard it enough. You don’t have to thank me anymore.”

“It’s not because of that.”

Bacher looked at me.

“About you using the residents as bait and having them return to the workshop as they were… You deliberately took on that plan for our sake, didn’t you?”

Bacher looked back at the villagers.

When Lee Cheol first came up with the plan to use the villagers as bait, Bacher felt a sense of rejection because he didn’t know what would happen, and there could be accidents.

So he decided to ask the villagers for their opinions first, and Lee Cheol said this in front of all of them:

-I need your strength. You have to help me save the captured villagers.

At those words, the dwarves of Black Root Village, who had been listless and frustrated, sparkled with renewed purpose.

‘In the end, using us as bait was ultimately for our sake.’

A family had died.

Of course, as they were a mysterious species, they knew very well that death was not just something to be sad about, but a natural law, like flowing water.

But it’s a different story if the death is caused by external pressure.

Moreover, for two years, the villagers had only breathed without even knowing the fate of their captured compatriots, like fish in a trap.

For the dwarves, who have a generous and cool personality, that period was like hell.

But this boy had restored the hearts of those residents.

‘This boy not only saved 11 dwarves, but also saved the hearts of our villagers.’

The words he had shared with Hurundat when they first met came to mind. He felt like he knew now where that deep trust came from.

“I think you’re looking at me too favorably. I really needed the strength of the residents of this village.”

“Lies. A person with the power to throw that terrifying spear needs our strength? There would have been other plans and methods.”

“It was a secret technique that required a considerable amount of preparation and took time to charge. It’s not like I can use that kind of technique anytime I want.”

“Anyway, you would have done it even without the help of the residents.”

At Bacher’s words, I didn’t say anything.

A moment of silence fell, and it was Bacher who broke it.

“Will you show me the spear blade?”

I nodded and took out Ru’s spear from my chest: a transparent and beautiful spear blade with a shimmering golden color.

Since it was impossible to hold it without being the owner of the spear blade, I didn’t hand it over to Bacher, but showed it to him while holding it in my hand.

“I see, it was that spear.”

“Do you know about this?”

“It’s the first time I’ve seen it myself. It’s something that was made in a very distant ancient time.”

If a dwarf says a distant ancient time, how old is it?

Bacher stared at the spear blade for a long time, then his eyes shone as if he had made up his mind.

“You have done us a great favor, and dwarves never forget the favors they receive.”

Bacher continued without stopping and said firmly, “So, as the village chief of Black Root, I want to repay you for that favor.”

“It’s enough just to make a spear shaft for this spear blade.”

“The reward I’m going to give you is the production of the spear shaft, but… it will be a little different from what you think.”

Bacher stood up from his seat, looked down at me, and said, “Come with me. There’s something I want to show you.”

Bacher walked out of the square where the festival was taking place and headed to his residence.

“We’re not going into the house.”

He didn’t go into the village chief’s residence, but went around the side of the building to the backyard, and the moment he stepped onto the ground in the backyard, I felt the surrounding air change.

“……?”

The magic power became thicker, and the air became fresher. Just stepping on this land made me feel like my body was being purified. In fact, all the alcohol lingering in my body disappeared.

‘There’s something there.’

I sensed that there was something in the small detached building behind the village chief’s residence.

“Do you remember the name of our village?”

“Yes, didn’t you say it was Black Root?”

“The name actually has an origin.”

Bacher led me, opened the door of the detached building, and entered.

Hwaak!

Just passing through the door, the clear energy became even thicker. It felt like I had entered a territory.

‘There’s some measure in the detached building. It’s blocking the energy.’

It was a seal with considerable power. I even felt like my magic power was being greatly suppressed, but there was something here that was pushing through this level of seal and affecting the outside.

“It’s something that we deliberately keep from leaking to the outside. It has been kept and managed by the village chief of Black Root Village for generations. No, rather than a thing… I should call it a tree.”

In the center of the detached building, there was a black tree growing. The length was at most about my height, and the thickness was about the size of my two fingers put together to make a circle.

“There are quite a few names for that tree, but it’s best known to humans as the World Tree.”

I widened my eyes. East and West, the myth of the World Tree is one of the most enduring.

“Is that really the World Tree?”

“I wouldn’t say exactly. The World Tree you know was broken and shattered in a distant ancient time. This is its branch. In fact, it’s not even rooted in the ground, so you can’t even call it a sapling; it’s just a branch, but it still holds sacred power and vitality after all this time.”

Bacher said that and turned to me.

“With this, I will make your spear shaft.”