Mentor Zadok, who had once taught him magic — how could Crimson Shadow fail to remember the man's face?
It was only through the reminder that Crimson Shadow could pick out, faintly, a trace of the old Zadok in that broad figure — but only a trace. The Mentor Zadok of his memory had never been so vast.
In his memory, Mentor Zadok could at least still walk normally through a doorway; but now, this high-tier mage, merely standing in the gateway, was like a wall sealing the pasture entrance shut. And that face he remembered had stretched outward sideways, until apart from the brows and eyes — still somewhat as they'd been — not a single part of it bore any resemblance to the man of old.
"So strong!"
The nearer he drew, the more Crimson Shadow could feel the man's vastness.
That enormous belly above all — fat rippling with each shift — all but filled his entire field of view!
Crimson Shadow couldn't help drawing a sharp breath.
"Mentor Zadok, you...... you've actually grown this strong?"
"Magic cultivation is like rowing upstream — go a single day without growing stronger, and the body starts to waste away."
The high-tier mage called Mentor Zadok chuckled, and even reached out a broad palm to clap Crimson Shadow on the shoulder.
"You, though — still so thin, thinner even than in the old days, your belly flat as a shadow...... eating less of late, are you?"
"It's...... I've had a bit of no appetite."
Hearing Mentor Zadok's words, Crimson Shadow clenched his teeth at once.
This was no remark about him being thin — it was plainly a remark that he'd grown weak! Weaker even than in the old days! And in a single breath the man had judged that he'd been eating little of late...... was this a suspicion that he hadn't been keeping up his mage's training? A suspicion about where he'd lately been?
The matter was more troublesome than he'd thought; his foray into the sacred mountain had likely already been marked.
"Eating less won't do. For us mages, no appetite means a danger second only to death itself."
So saying, Mentor Zadok simply fished a hide pouch out from under his cloak.
"This is honey-syrup brought from the city, a treasure only the king may enjoy. It's been diluted, but that suits your digestion just right...... here, take it."
"I...... so precious a treasure — how could I dare accept it?"
The instant he laid eyes on that pouch of honey-syrup, Crimson Shadow's pupils contracted sharply.
This was a treasure only the king could enjoy, which meant it was a bestowal — but that was exactly the trouble. He'd rendered the Nascent Dawn no service, won no merit on the northern tundra; what could possibly make him worthy of so sudden a gift?
"What does our King want me to do?"
Crimson Shadow asked warily.
"So weighty a reward...... Mentor Zadok, I'm not being conscripted to the front, am I?"
"How could that be — don't go frightening yourself."
Mentor Zadok shook his head with a smile.
"The fighting at the front has only just quieted; there's no need to conscript new men just now...... we've used up all the population that needed using up this year, after all. Open hostilities again and that'll have to wait till next year."
So saying, Mentor Zadok suddenly lowered his voice.
"The thing our King has been busy with of late — you know of it, don't you?"
"......I do."
Crimson Shadow drew a deep breath.
What the Nascent Dawn had been doing of late, he knew very well: first having the mages quietly hunt the sacred mountain's beasts into their own pastures as livestock, then letting poachers in to lure the Snake God into showing itself, and finally laying a trap to deal the Snake God a fatal blow...... he'd even taken part in it himself.
Of course, he had some skill, but nowhere near enough to join in the slaughter of a god, so the work he'd been assigned then was, together with the other mages, to quietly hunt the beasts of the sacred mountain. Not to kill them, but to draw them into his own pasture — and since the pastures of the mages taking part already sat around the sacred mountain, it was no great trouble, just odd-jobbing on the fringes.
But for Mentor Zadok to bring this up so suddenly now......
Crimson Shadow's heart pounded wildly.
"Since you know of it, then you must also see that our King's hunt did not succeed."
Mentor Zadok heaved a sigh.
"Not only did it fail, our King was even gravely wounded...... so, as mages, as men of the Ignivas family, it falls to us to share our King's burden."
"What...... does our King want of me?"
Crimson Shadow felt the hand hidden under his cloak trembling; he hadn't the nerve to carry this topic any further.
A familiar mentor brought him enormous pressure — a single wrong word, even the slightest lapse of expression, might give away the secret hidden in his heart.
But it was just then that Mentor Zadok spoke again.
"What are you shaking for? It's not as if the King wants you to do anything dangerous...... the King only wants your sabertooths for provisions, that's all."
"Just the sabertooths."
Crimson Shadow let out a long breath at once.
What a fright — he'd thought it was some great matter. If it was only his sabertooths, then that was nothing to fret over. A bit of livestock, no more; he'd hand a few over for the Nascent Dawn and be done with it.
So long as it wasn't some other trouble being brought to his door, everything was manageable.
"How many does our King want?"
"How many?"
Mentor Zadok blinked, then chuckled.
"You rather underestimate our Nascent Dawn's appetite. He is the strongest king in all the history of the Ignivas family......"
As he spoke, Mentor Zadok swept a great hand in a circle toward the pasture.
"All of them. Our King needs every last sabertooth."
"I......"
Crimson Shadow was struck dumb.
A pouch of honey-syrup — even diluted, a thing only the king could enjoy — traded for a dozen-some sabertooths, he could have called a fair bargain.
But this single pouch of syrup, a few mouthfuls and it was gone, in exchange for every sabertooth in his pasture......
How was that possible? How could he ever agree to such a thing?
Set aside that it was no different from open robbery — the sabertooths themselves were absolutely not something he could hand over whole. He'd promised that Snake God he'd offer up his sabertooths as a sacrifice, and the Snake God had even promised him, with His own mouth, a reward in return.
If, come the time, he couldn't produce a single sabertooth...... what would the consequences be?
This was no longer the sort of thing he could muddle through with a little cleverness. This would be deceiving a god, truly and outright.
And as for the consequences of deceiving that Snake God......
Crimson Shadow rather dared not imagine them.
"Come now, what kind of talk is this, standing about outside — let's go in first."
While Crimson Shadow stood there wavering, the broad-framed Mentor Zadok had already started straight for the pasture.
The pasture gate was in fact rather wide — wide enough for two sabertooths to come out abreast — but Mentor Zadok's frame was wider still, wide enough to seal the gateway shut entirely; he couldn't even have turned sideways and squeezed through, on account of that swollen belly of his.
But faced with a gate he couldn't pass, Mentor Zadok merely clapped his palms together.
A surging blaze roared forth.
The solid-timber pasture gate turned, in an instant, to drifting ash.
"Come — let's talk inside."
Through the still-warm sparks scattering on the wind, Mentor Zadok's broad form walked, just so, casually into the pasture.
By the leisurely ease of his stride, you'd have thought he was the pasture's master himself.
Which sank Crimson Shadow's heart, utterly.
For Mentor Zadok had all but spelled it out to him.
If he dared utter so much as half a word of refusal, that thick wooden gate was the fate that awaited him.