Apparently, Blood and Mary’s era was now referred to as the Union Age, in which all kinds of races had formed a large confederation. With the exception of regions like this one at the border, it had been a peaceful golden age without much conflict.
However, the influx of demons that followed caused the Great Collapse, and the Union fell apart. Southmark was lost under the flood of demons. The Hundred Heroes—that referred to Blood and the others who had helped him—killed the demons’ king, but all the same, mankind was forced to abandon this continent for a while.
Crossing the channel and the inland sea called Middle-Sea, mankind retreated to Grassland in the north. But as a result of the Great Collapse, the central government of Grassland lost its ability to govern, and the continent fractured into smaller regions that vied for power. There was no quick end to the infighting among all those military factions, and while it continued, no division saw good reason to interfere with the darkness in Southmark, farthest of all places and teeming with undead, demons, and goblins.
After the Fertile Kingdom unified the southwestern part of Grassland, that changed a little. Over the last few decades, they had been expanding and rebuilding with a vision to retake Southmark, and Whitesails was the port city that was currently the heart of the settlement effort coming from the north.
No wonder he’d given me that look of utter disbelief for not knowing it.
Anyway, Whitesails, which was the port at the north side of Southmark and the base for their settlement project, was apparently crammed full of immigration ships and trade vessels. And with so many of those going in and out, it was natural that suspicious folk, those with things to hide, and people forced to leave their homelands would also turn up.
Proper immigration procedures were as good as nonexistent in this era, so of course, there was no way to shut those kinds of people out. Some dived headfirst into the organized criminal underbelly in Whitesails, while others slipped away, made homes, and planted fields on the very edges of the borderlands, where the influence of those in power didn’t reach. Independent settlements such as those were scattered around Beast Woods.
“Those sorts of people aside, a lot of adventurers come here, as well. Though you could ask just how different the two really are...”
An “adventurer,” he told me, was a job in which you earned your daily bread by trolling the ruins from the Union Age and taking on mercenary-type jobs. Adventurers weren’t members of a single, unified organization; they were drifters, existing in almost any large town, who took jobs at special-purpose taverns and carried them out for a fee. Most were people down on their luck and unable to make a proper living, but that was why they saw the Union Age ruins as the key to fulfilling their dreams.
“In the unlikely event you find a pot of gold coins or something, boom, you’re rich. Your whole life turns around, just like that. People who dream of hitting the big one call themselves adventurers and flock out here. Though, it’s not just them, to be fair. There’s also people hoping to become heroes, people like you who had revelations from their god—all sorts.”
So you couldn’t generalize them as just people living in poverty. It seemed to be a pretty complicated occupation.
“You’ve got your own reasons too, right?” he asked. “You’re having revelations and helping people out, so you’re probably also trying to spread your faith or something too, I guess? I mean, the southern continent used to have a deeply rooted faith in Gracefeel.”
“Hmm... Can you tell me more about that?”
I asked him a few questions, and learned that the god of the flame had apparently once formed the basis for people’s religious faith here in Southmark.
However, the flood of demons caused by the Great Collapse two hundred years ago made a mess of Southmark, and as a result, Gracefeel’s followers scattered. Some were just barely able to flee to Grassland in the north and keep her name alive. But unlike the major gods, whose worshippers were numerous and not isolated to particular areas, Gracefeel’s faithful seemed to have waned considerably.
Demons and beasts were running rampant. There were many villages where the people could barely afford to get by, and sometimes became desperate enough to become thieves. Faith was dwindling to the point of disappearing completely. Things were awful in a lot of ways. And knowing that the mission I’d been given by my god was to do something about it somehow made me feel even worse.
Blood, Mary, Gus? Outside is a really scary place, I lamented inside my mind. Then I slowly breathed in, and out again.
To be honest, this was blatantly too much of a burden for me, and I’d really have liked someone else to do it, but I had sworn an oath to my god and decided to live a proper life. In the name of my faith, I decided to do as much as I could. “First things first. This village.”
“About that. You’ve done enough already, so I’m sorry for asking this, but the people here don’t have any money. If possible, they’d like to borr—”
“Menel, let’s go explore some ruins! We’ll split whatever we find!”
“What?” Menel’s mouth dropped open.
“I can’t believe you’re this good at ruin-hunting as well...”
“I’m used to it.”
Menel and I conquered the ruins that neighbored the village, and saw off the spirits of the wandering undead there at the same time.
I’d been thrown into the city of the dead’s underground quarter and had some seriously hard training at the hands of Gus and Blood, so I was relatively good at this kind of thing. Menel’s past experience as an adventurer had clearly helped him, too; he was very quick on his feet.
By collecting money and magical items from the ruins, Menel got the amount he needed to rebuild the village, and I succeeded in replenishing the various supplies I’d consumed. I’d been told that there were a lot of untouched ruins around here, so it seemed that I’d be able to amass the funds I was going to need on my own, at least for the time being.
“Seriously, who are you...” Menel wondered aloud.
“You weren’t going to pry, right?”
“Yeah, and I’m sticking to that, but... hell.”
I was on a journey north with Menel right now. Our destinations were the same—Whitesails, the most prosperous city in Southmark—but our reasons for going were different.
Menel’s was simple: he needed to go there to buy the draft animals and various tools that Marple’s village needed.
As for me, I had many reasons. I wanted to help Menel, I wanted to learn about the activities of the demons in Beast Woods, and I wanted to get more information on the continents and countries of this world. Doing something about the demons’ suspicious behavior, spreading faith in the god of the flame, helping villages—all of these required first heading to a city where people and things gathered.
We were walking through Beast Woods. The view surrounding the trail barely changed, and the heavily wooded forest let little light through. Fortunately, with it being late winter, the bushes and undergrowth weren’t that thick, but even so, we had spent so long walking that it was starting to feel like we were just going around in circles. I’d seen nothing but this same kind of scenery for several days now.
Today, too, we had been walking about half the day, and as the sun was starting to shine through from high in the sky, I could hold it in no longer. “We are making progress... right?”
“Of course we are,” Menel said. “Starting to get you down?”
“Kind of.”
“Well... Can’t say I blame you. I can’t wait to get out to a village somewhere, or at least to a nice, open plain. The ears of winter wheat should be waving in the wind at this time of year. Should be pretty beautiful.”