Episode 137
“The Hermit of Stories?”
The princess nodded as she spoke.
“I’ve heard about him from my mother. There’s a hermit who has lived for centuries on Mount Ouroboros, located west of Thebea, near Delphoa.”
“Centuries? Is he a lich?”
“No, he’s a sage who has transcended human limits by mastering the pinnacle of magic.”
“A sage, huh…”
It sounded too much like a legend to be easily believed.
Then the princess spoke cautiously.
“Actually, I once told this story to Laura.”
“You mean your mother?”
“Yes. Laura was very curious about irregulars. So, after hearing this story, she went to find the hermit.”
“She went to find the hermit based on just a legend? Your mother was quite daring.”
“Well, she found him, so it wasn’t entirely reckless, was it?”
“What?”
Princess Arina lifted her head slightly, as if recalling the past, and gazed into the distance.
“Laura returned from Thebea and told me about meeting the sage. I didn’t hear the exact details, but she said he possessed knowledge unknown to the world.”
“It’s astonishing that your mother actually met the sage.”
“If he could satisfy Laura’s curiosity about irregulars, he must know about the relics too.”
Zeke nodded at the princess’s words.
“Did your mother mention where exactly on Mount Ouroboros the sage is located?”
The princess shook her head.
“She wandered the mountain for almost a month, and then suddenly, the path to where the hermit resided opened up.”
Zeke tilted his head, pondering the princess’s words.
“Could it be a portal?”
He thought this because he had experienced a similar process when meeting his former master, known as the Hermit of the Forest.
“Could the Hermit of Stories be…?”
Zeke quelled the rising unease in his chest and stood up.
“I suppose I’ll have to go to Mount Ouroboros to find out.”
“Are you planning to seek the Hermit of Stories?”
“If the demons are searching for the relics, the Empire and Abel’s side will likely assist them. We need to secure the information first to prevent the relics from falling into their hands.”
Having witnessed firsthand what happened when Abel gained power in his past life, Zeke was determined to prevent it.
After a brief rest, he prepared to set out again. He left Liam and Felix at Agamemnon Castle to train under Sister Cloné.
“Ugh, my lord! I’d rather go to the mountain with you!”
Ignoring Felix’s protests as he was dragged away by Sister Cloné, Zeke headed straight for Thebea.
“Sir Knight, that’s Mount Ouroboros over there.”
Traveling from Mycenae to Thebea via the main road, Zeke paid the carriage driver and disembarked near Mount Ouroboros.
He gazed at the towering peaks of Mount Ouroboros in the distance, contemplating his next move.
“It’s a vast mountain range stretching from Thebea to Delphoa and even to Argos. I can’t possibly search it all.”
Despite the daunting task, Zeke had a hunch to rely on.
He suspected that the Hermit of Stories might be a member of the organization he once belonged to.
A few hours after entering Mount Ouroboros, Zeke realized his hunch was correct.
“Indeed, it’s the Highlander’s mark.”
The arrangement of rocks on the path up the mountain, the placement of trees—subtle signs only Highlanders would recognize—were scattered throughout.
Zeke wore a complex expression as he observed the marks.
He felt both the joy of potentially finding the Hermit of Stories and the fear of reconnecting with the Highlanders, as he had in his past life.
“I didn’t want to get involved with the Highlanders in this life.”
Being a Highlander had been a significant part of Zeke’s past life, but he preferred not to dwell on those memories.
The guilt of breaking the oath he made with his former master as a Highlander still lingered.
Steeling himself, Zeke followed the Highlander’s marks up Mount Ouroboros.
At the end of the trail, he expected to find a portal leading to the Hermit of Stories.
After a day’s journey, Zeke finally reached the end of the trail.
“Is it here?”
He surveyed the area with keen eyes.
In the middle of the forest stood a solitary tree.
“That’s the totem.”
The totem, which concentrated the portal’s power, marked the territory of the local Highlander.
Zeke approached the totem slowly and extended his hand.
A low hum resonated.
Familiar with the sensation, Zeke held his breath and closed his eyes.
With a flash of light, Zeke vanished from the totem’s vicinity.
When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a landscape entirely different from the Ouroboros forest.
“A bamboo grove?”
Bamboo, rare in the central continent, lined both sides of a narrow path.
The rustling bamboo leaves created a serene atmosphere.
Zeke walked up the path slowly.
At the top, there was a small bamboo hut.
The sight of the bamboo hut reminded Zeke of his former master.
“Back then, it was a treehouse, not a bamboo hut.”
He approached the bamboo house and knocked on the door.
“Is anyone there?”
Despite knocking, there was no response.
Zeke gently opened the bamboo door.
“Huh?”
A man lay on a bamboo bed, seemingly enjoying a nap.
“Snore… snore…”
The young man, appearing to be in his twenties, tossed and turned in his sleep.
“Is that the Hermit of Stories?”
Expecting a sage with a long silver beard, Zeke was taken aback by the sight.
He thought of his former master.
“Well, compared to my master, this is nothing.”
Considering whether to wake the hermit, Zeke decided to wait, suspecting the hermit might be a temperamental wizard.
The hermit awoke several hours later.
“Yawn! That was a good nap.”
Stretching and getting up, the hermit ambled over to a table and drank from a bamboo cup.
“Ah, refreshing.”
Zeke watched the scene from a bamboo chair.
The hermit noticed Zeke only after ten minutes had passed.
“Who… who are you?”
Startled, the hermit froze upon seeing Zeke seated in the chair.
“I was wondering when you’d notice me.”
The hermit calmed his racing heart and asked Zeke.
“How did you get in here?”
“Do you remember a woman named Laura Agamemnon who visited you about twenty years ago?”
The hermit scratched his head, trying to recall.
“Twenty years ago… let me see. Was it that story? Ah, the persistent healer lady.”
“That sounds right. I’m her son.”
“What? That young lady already has a son like you? Has it been that long?”
The hermit looked at Zeke with newfound curiosity.
Zeke addressed the hermit.
“I’ve come to ask you something.”
The hermit clicked his tongue.
“Ah, just like that healer lady. Do people think I’m some kind of machine that spits out answers? Even if I’m the Hermit of Stories…”
“They say you know all the world’s knowledge, even the hidden ones.”
The hermit’s expression softened slightly.
“Who said that? Was it that lady?”
“That’s what I’ve heard.”
The hermit, now more amiable, nodded and gestured for Zeke to follow him outside.
He sat on a bamboo platform in front of the house and took out a fan, gently waving it.
“Goodness. You’re only the second person to come here out of curiosity, after that lady.”
“What do most people come for?”
“Finding this place is rare in itself, but in the past, kings would occasionally visit. Some wanted me to prophesy for them. Most couldn’t even distinguish between a sage and a prophet.”
“Are there really prophets?”
“They’re rare, but they exist. It’s more about predicting potential scenarios and choosing the most likely outcome from countless possibilities. It’s quite complex. Just because you see a scenario doesn’t mean it will happen. The moment you confirm it, new variables arise, leading to more branching paths… Anyway, that’s how it is.”
Though different from the typical image of a sage, he seemed to know a lot.
Zeke asked the hermit.
“I’ve come to inquire about the relics.”
“Relics?”
“Yes. Do you know about them?”
The hermit furrowed his brow slightly.
He stood up, muttering to himself.
“Relics… hmm.”
He folded his fan and looked at Zeke.
“What did you say your name was?”
“Zeke Draker.”
“Zeke Draker. Draker. Hmm.”
Hearing Zeke’s name, the hermit unfolded his fan and wrote Zeke’s name on it.
Then he folded and unfolded it again.
The hermit showed the back of the fan to Zeke.
On the back, written in Chronos script, were the words “Ten Beasts.”
“What does this mean?”
“It means you need to bring me ten beasts.”
“Beasts?”
“Did you think you’d get answers for free? Considering the question, it’s a bargain.”
Zeke found himself staring at the recluse who had tasked him with capturing a beast, suddenly reminded that this man was a member of the Highlanders.
The Highlanders were a secretive group, bound by an oath to hunt down beasts and maintain the world’s balance from the shadows.
Zeke’s mentor, the Hermit of the Forest, was one of them.
In his past life, Zeke had been saved by the Hermit and, in exchange for learning the art of combat, had sworn the Highlander oath.
But he broke that oath, fleeing his mentor’s domain to the northern city of Himonas.
A memory, long buried, surfaced in Zeke’s mind.
A woman stood atop a fortress, clutching a sword, her form wrapped in thick wolf pelts against the biting northern wind.
“Zeke Murray. Help me. The North needs you.”
The memory jolted Zeke back to the present.
He knew that if he dwelled on it any longer, he might just run off to Himonas right then and there.
“Damn it. Get a grip, Zeke Draker.”
Regaining his composure, he turned to the recluse and asked, “So, ten beasts, is that all?”
The recluse was taken aback by Zeke’s nonchalance.
“Huh? Do you even know what a beast is?”
“Yes. Are there beasts on Mount Ouroboros?”
“If there weren’t, I wouldn’t be here.”
Most Highlanders roamed without a fixed territory, hunting beasts wherever they appeared.
But the most powerful among them established domains in areas where beasts frequently emerged.
Zeke’s mentor, the Hermit of the Forest, was one of the oldest and strongest Highlanders.
He had claimed the Forbidden Forest of the Forgotten as his domain.
It seemed this recluse was of a similar ilk.
Zeke nodded at the recluse’s words and asked for the location of the beasts.
The recluse opened a portal to the area where the beasts were known to appear.
As Zeke stepped through and vanished, the recluse shook his head and muttered, “I wonder if he can even catch one.”
Those who sought him out were usually extraordinary individuals destined to shape the world—future kings, mighty warriors, or wizards who glimpsed the truth beyond reality.
Yet even they rarely passed the recluse’s test.
If they succeeded, he would provide a complete answer; if not, he might offer no answer at all or just a fragment.
“It’s not my doing, it’s karma. Still, maybe ten was a bit much.”
The recluse lounged leisurely on his bench, rolling over lazily.
An hour later, a signal came from Zeke, requesting the portal be reopened.
“Hmm? Giving up already? That’s unexpected. He seemed more tenacious than that.”
With a flick of his fan, the recluse reopened the portal.
Thud!
As soon as the portal opened, ten grotesque beast heads tumbled through.
Zeke emerged, unscathed and calm.
The recluse’s jaw dropped at the sight.