MPNS Ch 30

Chapter 30

 

Moreover, they had appeared together with the Yollok.

That was not something that would occur under ordinary circumstances.

While the Yollok liked to reinforce the tunnels that the Hiohkan had excavated, turning them into passageways for their underground cities, this did not mean they had any sort of symbiotic relationship with the Hiohkan.

Unlike the Yollok, who possessed a measure of intelligence, the Hiohkan’s mind was hardly different from that of an insect; the very concept of “symbiosis” was likely beyond its comprehension.

In other words, their relationship was nothing like the long-standing mutualism between ants and aphids.

The Yollok, too, seemed unwilling to risk being mistaken by the Hiohkan for trespassers in its territory. They generally kept out of sight, only using one of the tunnels once it had hardened long after the Hiohkan had passed through.

Thus, for the Yollok to be trailing directly behind a Hiohkan was improbable from the start — and the idea that a Hiohkan could catch the scent of a Yollok yet choose not to attack, instead running in a straight line toward the capital, was even more unbelievable.

There was nothing near the capital that would serve as food for a Hiohkan — no piles of stone or stone walls for it to consume — and a creature without intelligence could not possibly run several hundred kilometers without distraction.

While a Hiohkan would occasionally prey on living creatures instead of stone moss, the area surrounding Rasiris, the capital, was ringed by several populous towns.

So to break through the underground beneath the capital’s wards — wards thick with holy power — and approach the palace itself meant they had been given a specific mission.

Which then raised the question: who could possibly give a mission to a Hiohkan with an insect’s mind, and to a Yollok whose only concerns lay in its group life?

“An intelligent lifeform…”

It was at that moment, as Nikiel murmured, that a deep voice sounded low and close, right behind his ear.

“Why would Your Highness think so?”

Nikiel was so startled he nearly pitched backward — but a firm arm caught him at the waist. The motion caused a broad chest and solid collarbone to press against the back of his head.

A chill climbed his spine. Nikiel turned his head stiffly, as though it might creak — and saw Yullan Balt.

“Ah, Your Grace…”

“It has been some time, Your Highness.”

As if he had never once threatened Nikiel in the library, Yullan spoke as though it had truly been long since their last formal meeting.

Clicking his tongue inwardly, Nikiel straightened with a cool expression before replying:

“It has been some time indeed. I trust Your Grace has been well.”

“An intelligent lifeform, you said. Why think so?”

But Yullan ignored Nikiel’s polite return as if it were nothing, and simply pursued his own question. His tone was so firm it conveyed he would not easily let the matter drop.

Nikiel pulled up one corner of his mouth in a faint smile.

“Hm? I’m not sure what you mean. If I don’t return before dinner, the attendants in charge of the Prince’s Palace will start nagging. I had best be on my way.”

He began to turn his body naturally, feigning a move to return toward the Prince’s Palace.

In truth, all Nikiel had wanted was to know the total number of monsters that had appeared and roughly what species they were. Now that he had the information, it was in his best interest to make a quick exit.

‘Why do I keep running into these people? It’s like every time I step outside, there they are.’

Despite irritation stirring in him, he maintained a semblance of composure. But Nikiel was the sort of man who could research the breeding ecology of birds that used artificial nest boxes, or study the behavioral traits of cattle sociality — and yet was utterly hopeless when it came to managing his facial expressions.

Admittedly, one of his supervising professors had been an insufferable bastard, but there had been a reason for his cruelty toward Nikiel.

Even when Nikiel was in a good mood, his expression was close to perpetually neutral; but when displeased, his expression grew sharper, more like that of someone confronted with a piece of garbage.

Yullan studied the increasingly sullied expression on Nikiel’s face before speaking.

“…The road to the Prince’s Palace has been temporarily closed for safety reasons. Allow me to escort you.”

Why was it that everyone seemed intent on escorting him today? Did they take him for some excitable house pet that loved going for walks?

Suppressing his annoyance, Nikiel smiled politely.

“In that case, all the more reason not to hold up a busy man such as yourself, Your Grace. You must have many matters demanding your time. There’s no need to add me to them. Just have one of the palace guards accompany me.”

One of Yullan’s brows lifted slightly — a look that said he had just heard something absurd.

“Your Highness has had a talent for absurd remarks lately. Don’t make me repeat myself. Move. It’s not as if I’m escorting you because I have time to spare.”

It was the polite equivalent of “Shut up and walk,” and Nikiel was left almost speechless.

“…Are you always this discourteous, Your Grace?”

“I did not think Your Highness capable of recognizing discourtesy.”

Yullan’s tone was matter-of-fact. Then he turned to the red-haired man, who had been standing a little awkwardly to the side.

“Benedict, I saw smoke rising from the western forest — likely they’re disposing of the Hiohkan carcasses. Go and tell them: do not burn the Yollok remains; bury them instead.”

The remains of a Yollok, if burned, would immediately turn into small maggots — vermin that gnawed at nearby trees. It was best to bury them back in the ground they had lived in.

When buried, the earth would become fertile soil for the next ten years. Because of that, farmers sometimes risked trying to hunt Yollok, only to lose their lives instead.

Yollok corpses fetched a high price for this very utility. Nikiel cast a sidelong glance at Yullan, noting that he at least knew the proper method of disposal.

The sharp-eyed man stared off at Benedict’s slight bow of acknowledgement before dispatching him, and then spoke — still not looking at Nikiel — in a tone that dropped low enough to make the listener’s skin prickle, as if in warning.

“This is the third time I’m asking. What do you mean by ‘the birth of an intelligent lifeform’?”

Wow, so this bastard drops straight into informal speech when no one’s around? Nikiel’s brows climbed in irritation.

He pursed his lips, then remembered that Yullan’s beast form was a wolf — and recalled the wolf’s unyielding habit of never releasing prey once caught.

It seemed wiser to yield first. He sighed and spoke.

“It’s nothing much. Hiohkan aren’t gentle enough monsters to go around with Yollok in tow. That much, at least, is common knowledge in the kingdom…”

Yes, it was something any citizen of the kingdom might know.

But it was Nikiel who said it — and therein lay the problem.

Yullan’s eyes narrowed as he looked down on the platinum-haired, blue-eyed beauty.

Nikiel was uniquely fearful of monsters. Born with overflowing holy power and having likely never once been bitten even by a mosquito-type monster like the Nen, he nonetheless held an excessive terror of them.

Even to someone without suspicion, that level of fear was questionable — abnormal, even.

Nikiel didn’t just fear monsters; he seemed to loathe them, and avoided even hearing the subject mentioned.

He had none of the basic monster-related knowledge everyone else took for granted — such as the fact that burying a Yollok corpse made the surrounding soil fertile, a fact well-known even among commoners.

Of course, there were royals and nobles indifferent to monsters, but Nikiel could not afford to be one of them — for he was the one in the entire kingdom blessed with the greatest holy power.

Even the Pontiff of the Solius faith did not possess holy power equal to Nikiel’s. His divine power was said to be the very same originally bestowed by the Sun God at Ossinis’ founding — the primal, omnipotent force of creation itself.

And yet, despite possessing such power, he feared monsters that could not so much as scratch him.

Granted, while a monster might not harm him directly, it could still collapse the terrain under him or whip up storms to strike him indirectly.

But that was not what Nikiel feared. His fear carried a strain of disgust.

And Yullan remembered one more thing. The year after Nikiel first appeared in high society, he had gone hunting with others of his age group — and they’d encountered a monster.

Though the monster had not touched him, Nikiel, in panic, had drawn every beast in the area to him with his holy power, using them as a shield.

Countless small creatures living in the woods had been trampled under the monster’s feet.

Even now, as then, Raymon — who had been Master of the Royal Hunt at the time and in charge of the palace forests — reportedly gagged on the spot at the sight of so many torn little bodies.

The four commanders, beasts in their true forms, cherished voiceless animals. Hunting was one thing — a necessity for human survival — but what Nikiel had done that day was a massacre, plain and simple.

From that day, whatever faint expectations they had held for him were cut away entirely.

And now this man presumed to claim he’d said only something that “anyone in the kingdom” might know?

“……”

Yullan stared into Nikiel’s blue eyes — deep as lakes shadowed by lashes of honey-gold.

Under the midday sun, it was as if all light had chosen its owner and poured itself wholly into Nikiel.

Like something that could never be grasped, his beauty carried a fleeting, ethereal air.

Nikiel, pretending not to notice Yullan’s suspicion, kept a mask of nonchalance — yet without realizing it, he bit his lip, baring all his unease to the other man.

Each time his teeth released it, the slightly damp flesh shifted to a flush-red — and watching that stirred in Yullan an unpleasant sensation, as if a weight had settled uncomfortably in his chest.

He clicked his tongue. He had been just about to warn Nikiel to stop playing games.