95. Arshama’s Plan

After finishing my words, I stood up.

As I closed the door and came out, I noticed someone nearby. Arshama didn’t even try to hide that he had been listening to our conversation, smiling brightly as if he’d heard everything well.

“That herb grinding sound earlier was you, wasn’t it, Arshama?”

I had gone to find Inkheart after confirming that Koroso had finished his work and gone inside. There was no way I would suddenly hear the sound of grinding herbs again.

“It was appropriate support, wasn’t it? I was glad you picked up on the hint well.”

“You did well with that. But not eavesdropping on others’ conversations would be even better.”

“But I needed to confirm.”

“Confirm what, all of a sudden?”

“When the mountain tribe was destroyed, the first Inkheart was definitely there. That’s why even now, outsiders believe that Inkheart, who took over the north, was somehow involved in the destruction of the mountain tribe.”

“After seeing him like this, do you still suspect Inkheart was the cause?”

“What more is there to doubt? One side is caring for people without expecting anything in return, while the other side claims blood must be shed to prevent destruction.”

Arshama smiled bitterly.

Feeling suddenly upset, I hit him once in the stomach.

“So from when we first landed at the temple until now, you’ve been deliberately just watching?”

Arshama could have handled the situation better than we have now. He’s smooth-talking and good at improvising.

“Ouch, but if the first Inkheart really is an enemy of the mountain tribe, I couldn’t help the enemy, could I?”

“Now that you’ve confirmed it properly, give it your all from now on. If you try to be clever, I’ll kill you.”

Arshama, after getting kicked once more in the shin, grinned.

“Understood, Grand Duchess.”

Meanwhile, Inkheart remained in the room, recalling what Anette had said.

〈Not just anyone.〉

〈You did it because you’re you, Inkheart.〉

His heart, slowly dying from the long journey, suddenly seemed to cough, as if saying “ahem.”

Finishing the letter he had been writing before Anette came in, Inkheart smiled slightly.

“People I’ve saved sometimes tell me they see the image of a god in me.”

Words that had meant nothing to him when he heard such praise.

“All this time, perhaps people saw in me what you just showed.”

A light that brightens the path in hopeless moments.

“I wish you would pray for me.”

The thought suddenly occurred to him.

* * *

Last night, I thought we had shared some connection, but come morning, Inkheart treated me formally again.

When I said I wanted to look around the village, Inkheart’s face instantly darkened.

“Have you forgotten that you nearly died?”

Though I knew it was wrong to upset our distant ancestor who was worried sick, Arshama and I stubbornly went outside, even borrowing hoods.

‘The soil is red.’

Laterite soil of the jungle. I learned about it in world geography class. The problem is I can’t remember anything else about it.

‘The soil is so hard that if you dig it up with a shovel, it can be used directly as bricks…… that doesn’t seem particularly helpful right now.’

“Hmm? Why are you looking at me?”

“Be careful.”

Arshama blinked.

“Of what?”

“This place is full of tools I could use to crack your skull and dispose of you on the spot if I get angry.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’ll keep it in mind.”

I hope I never end up killing Arshama with a mud brick and destroying the evidence.

“Oh, a street vendor. Since we need to look good, should I buy some food?”

“How are you going to buy anything without money……”

“Come on over!”

I snorted at Arshama’s reckless approach to buying food without any plan, as if money from a thousand years ago would magically appear.

Then I was shocked to see the food at his destination. The street vendor was selling scorpion skewers. Of course, this is the jungle!

“How are you planning to buy this?”

“The little boy who collapsed yesterday secretly brought me eggs to thank me. He said he was sorry he couldn’t give more. Even without money, isn’t bartering always right when traveling? I’ll buy you one too, try it.”

“Absolutely not!”

Arshama burst into laughter at my reaction, then picked up three or four eggs and bargained with the vendor.

The vendor drooled at the eggs Arshama was waving but wouldn’t easily lower the price, yet Arshama was one step ahead.

“Come on, friend. Is it easy to find scorpions these days? I risk my life to get them too.”

Arshama eventually exchanged one egg for a scorpion. I hate scorpions, but even I thought one egg for one scorpion didn’t seem like a fair exchange rate. Still, he managed it somehow.

“Yum.”

“Don’t even look at me while you’re eating that.”

“You’ll get hungry just watching others eat. Should I exchange another egg for you?”

“No thanks, I’d rather have the egg.”

“It’s a fertilized egg.”

My hand, which had been selecting an egg, froze.

A fertilized egg? The one I’m thinking of?

“They’re precious here.”

Arshama explained that’s why the collapsed child had brought them as a thank-you gift.

“Inkheart, who originally received these eggs, made exactly the same face as you and gave them back to me. That’s why I brought them out today.”

I carefully put down the egg I was about to eat. Then I moved three steps away from Arshama.

“Isn’t it nice to be able to eat meat and eggs at the same time?”

Before I could curse at him, Arshama said:

“But this market has nothing to show for.”

Arshama said.

Hearing his words, I noticed the mountain tribe’s market had no cattle, pigs, or sheep. At most, there were only chickens. Even those were too valuable to slaughter, so they were eating fertilized eggs instead.

‘People can’t live without eating meat.’

The mountain tribe couldn’t all be vegetarians. And if that were the case, they wouldn’t try to offer human sacrifices either.

We were lost in these thoughts as we returned from the market.

“Be careful, fire!”

As we passed by, there was a fire next to the road. The mountain tribe people weren’t alarmed by the large fire.

“The smoke is tremendous.”

“Someone’s watching it. It’s not a fire hazard, it looks like slash-and-burn farming.”

“Cough, cough. You mean the farming method where they burn fields?”

No matter how closely the farmer was watching, the blazing fire was more threatening than I expected. If the wind blew wrong, it could devour the entire village.

Slash-and-burn is a last resort. Ordinary farmers never set fire to their land.

“This place is falling apart.”

Arshama smiled detachedly at the answer I finally found.

“We’ve known from the beginning that the mountain tribe would perish. But this time, they need to perish differently. Even if the end is inevitable.”

Here, no oxen or horses pull plows. People till the fields and pick out stones.

The reason is simple.

There are no oxen or horses to begin with. Forget meat—there isn’t enough grass to feed oxen or horses needed for farming.

‘I remember now, the laterite soil of the jungle.’

The lush jungle was actually no different from a green desert. The red soil had its nutrients washed away by constant rain, leaving only iron oxide, and very few plants could grow in such soil.

‘By chance, people have survived here until now, but fundamentally, farming isn’t possible in this climate.’

The reason they’ve been able to survive until now is because there were nutrients accumulated by the mountain before the mountain tribe settled here.

But as people started farming, the soil’s nutrients disappeared more quickly. A terrible cycle of incompatibility repeated itself.

‘It’s similar to the end of famous jungle civilizations in history.’

Even down to the human sacrifices marking their final days.

Arshama and I had arrived at the mountain tribe’s final era.

* * *

“I’ve figured out what the divine curse is.”

When I finally said this, Inkheart looked tired.

“It’s not a curse. Well, if we call something that can’t be solved by human power a curse, then yes, it is a curse.”

No matter how much spirit power Inkheart poured into caring for the mountain tribe and their land, it was like pouring water into a bottomless pot.

“This land has lost its fertility.”

A thousand years later, this land will become a snow-covered mountain unimaginable as the jungle it is now.

The climate was already changing.

“The mountain tribe needs to find a new home now. A land that can feed them sufficiently.”

“Amazing.”

Inkheart said.

“You immediately discovered the conclusion I reached after staying here for months of examination.”

But he didn’t look happy at all.

“When the chief asked for my opinion as a spirit mage on the current situation, what do you think I said?”

“You can’t live on this land anymore!”

“Yes, I said the same thing. But the chief pretended not to hear.”

“You need to persuade him.”

“They’ve lived on this land for 500 years. They’re more accustomed to believing and relying on their gods than changing their home overnight.”

Deep fatigue consumed him.

“They absolutely refuse to accept that the land given to them by their god is failing.”

“Rather than slowly withering away while offering futile sacrifices here, they need to move down.”

Otherwise, only extinction awaits the mountain tribe.

Even the Aztecs and Maya sacrificed people, but their gods did not save them.

“How? By what method?”

Inkheart shook his head. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help.

“To them, I’m an outsider, everything I say is ominous, and I’m even the one who interfered with their sacrifice. I’m the person who keeps saying things they don’t want to hear.”

He must have felt like he was talking to a wall after telling them countless times to abandon their homeland.

“The mountain tribe’s faith that a prince will come on the day of hardship is strong. The temple encourages this. While everything is falling apart, only the mountain tribe’s temple is wielding power using the end times as a weapon.”

“Hmm, so you’re saying the god the mountain tribe is waiting for is the problem? Something like ‘this is the land where the prince will descend, so we can never give it up.'”

Arshama, who had been quietly listening behind me as if he wasn’t there, joined the conversation.

“What if the mountain tribe’s god tells them to leave this land?”

“How……”

“I mean the prince. If the prince the mountain tribe is waiting for appears, they won’t need to keep guarding this place anymore, right? The prophecy would be fulfilled.”

Arshama smiled brightly.

“Let’s see how devout the mountain tribe really is. For believers, the god shall come.”