Home Post 805-chapter-52


“A human named Caldenos de Ferzan Eatinte and his…”


“Yes, that human somehow…”


Rutis tilted his head, puzzled. It was rare to see Weed narrowing his eyes like this, especially while mentioning a human’s name.

“Yes, he’s also referred to as Calden.”

“…What about this human?”

Rutis thought it odd.

Normally, just waiting would suffice for the conversation to proceed. It seemed as though Weed was pressing for an answer—an uncommon reaction from him.

Weed appeared to feign disinterest and glanced elsewhere. If he truly weren’t interested, he would either continue on his way or change the subject entirely, but this reaction was new. It seemed like he was reluctant but still wanted to hear the answer.

“We’re considering letting him stay here for a few days. Some among us have taken an interest in the affairs of his human kingdom. The magic tool ‘Wand of Light’ he brought doesn’t seem to hold much value for us, though.”

“Why would we allow such a person into Lar?”

Weed’s expression turned distinctly displeased. Rutis was puzzled again. While Weed generally disapproved of humans entering Lar, his reaction seemed particularly strong today.

“…Ah, as expected, you don’t approve? Still, he has been taking care of Hana, speaking as if he’s a guest of hers. Should we just send him back?”

“A guest of Hana’s?”

“Yes. He’s been looking after her since she lost her way.”

Weed paused momentarily. Hearing that he was Hana’s guest, he did not react as strongly as before.

“…And he’s been cooking for her?”

Rutis found himself at a loss for words. He thought he had been serving Weed for quite some time, but occasionally, his true thoughts were hard to understand, so his cryptic comments were nothing new.

“Cooking? Ah, well… Considering he’s royalty from a magic kingdom in the West, his culinary skills are probably quite good by human standards. Complex dishes require memorizing recipes and patience or haste to get even the timing right, and even a slight misstep in seasoning can change the flavor entirely. That’s why magic is often likened to cooking for them. Of course, for us or Weed, who use power directly, it’s not really a concern.”


His response was odd. While Weed still seemed displeased, there was a subtle difference. Rutis gauged his reaction, tentatively probing further.

“Weed, even so, we do it better. If you’re interested, should I ask him to prepare a traditional dish from his side?”


This time, Weed’s response was sharply decisive. Rutis briefly cast his gaze behind him, then sighed inside as he looked towards the room where Hana was. Unlike the typical nature of the race of the forest, Rutis was quite perceptive.

After bowing slightly to Weed, he took the lead.

“…Let’s go. I’ll teach you a simple recipe.”

Rutis omitted what he initially intended to say, ‘We have limited time to prepare before she wakes up.’ Weed followed him without a word, seemingly confirming all of Rutis’s suspicions and hunches.

‘So he suddenly wants to cook. The reason seems obvious.’

As Rutis led the way, he glanced back to see Weed, who had a faint smile on his lips. This time, it was easy to read. His mood appeared to be quite uplifted.

Watching Weed, Rutis didn’t know how to react. Seeing him in a good mood made Rutis feel happy as well. Probably, the other priests would be delighted to see Weed like this today. Yet, at the same time, he felt a profound sadness.

‘I wonder how long we will see him like this.’

It felt as if the long-awaited had finally come true. Over the years, the priests had stayed by Weed’s side, hoping he would find this kind of tranquility. They wished for him to smile at the little things, to be upset by trivial matters, and to have such peaceful smiles when he was pleased.

However, all their attempts had ended in failure. Weed did not care for treasures received from humans. He showed no interest. Fine food, clothing, beautiful buildings — none elicited much reaction from him.

Despite being in a position to enjoy such luxuries, he deemed them meaningless.

Of course, it wasn’t that he never smiled or got angry. It was just extremely rare, and the intensity was just too mild. The priests focused on and rejoiced over any emotional response from Weed despite it being infrequent. They believed things were gradually improving.

‘Was it all our arrogance? A misunderstanding?’

Rutis smiled bitterly.

Weed was indifferent to everything in this world. He just looked up at the sky, spending his time alone, numbing his emotions. The priests had to admit. The only thing that significantly stirred his emotions was the sacrificial offerings. After the rituals, he would be so sad that he was nearly driven mad by it.

This time, too, Weed’s emotions were solely influenced by the sacrifice.

When they opened the portal to call forth the last offering, they were half worried and half hopeful. They believed everything would finally end. The divine disease tormenting him, the crumbling of his emotions due to the repeated rituals.

They anticipated that this offering would touch the depths of his emotions. But they also thought that, given some time, he could gradually change.

The priest instinctively felt it. Everything was coming to an end soon. The end was near.

And certainly, it wasn’t in a good sense.

Fiddling with a flower bud in his pocket, the priest wondered when he should present it to Weed. It was a flower influenced by Hana, mimicking her condition. He was terribly afraid of how Weed might react upon seeing it despite somewhat anticipating the outcome.

Rutis glanced back for a moment. It seemed today wouldn’t be the day to tell him that. He didn’t want Weed’s recently appeared smile to fade so soon.


* * *


Weed quickly returned to Hana. In his hand, he carried a vegetable soup he had just prepared himself.

He was a bit worried. Hana had been accustomed to rather elaborate and flavorful dishes; this simple offering might seem insufficient. Indeed, it surely would. The dish he held seemed utterly inadequate.

Weed hadn’t done much himself. He had merely stir-fried ingredients that were already chopped or minced, added more ingredients, poured in pre-prepared broth, stirred, and finally seasoned it. It was meant to be a light soup before the main dish, so it was naturally not too heavy.

Nonetheless, he still wasn’t pleased to serve this as his first dish to her.

As if anticipating Weed’s concern, the priest had asked Weed for a very small favor. Not knowing what it was for, Weed gave a drop of honey from his fingertip. Then, he quickly returned to Hana.

Half worried, half excited. After all, the soup hadn’t tasted bad when he sampled it.

‘But where is she?’

Hana was not on the bed. Fearing she had disappeared, Weed hurriedly searched the room. He soon found her and breathed a sigh of relief.


“Ah… Weed.”

Hana was lying on the floor. She responded quickly when called, indicating she hadn’t been deeply asleep.

“Why are you here… Are you alright? Was the bed uncomfortable?”

“It’s not that…”

Before Hana could finish her sentence, Weed lifted her from the floor. She silently nestled into his embrace and leaned on Weed.

She yawned again, showing that she was quite tired.

“…I had a dream.”

“What kind of dream did you have?”

“It felt like a very, very old dream… like I was looking up at something incredibly high, but I can’t remember well. It’s been like this since I came here. I hear strange voices. I rolled over and fell off.”

“I see.”