Legacy of the Living
An autumn wind swept across the wasteland.
Roberta raised her left hand to shield her face from the sand-laden gust blowing straight at her.
The ground was cracked and split, as if no rain had fallen for a long time. Here and there, withered grass that had managed to grow trembled weakly before being torn out by the roots and rolling across the ground.
The wind was both dry and cold. Thinking that winter must be approaching, Roberta looked toward the front. Unlike usual, the one leading the group was not Ulrich. Instead, a bearded middle-aged man rode ahead as their guide.
He was Harald, the son of Udo, the old fence. It was said that in his youth he had wandered in search of Yusuf's tomb—and indeed, he crossed the pathless wasteland without even looking at a map.
"We're almost there."
Harald spoke as they crossed a stone bridge.
"Once we cross this river and go a little further, there's a burial mound."
Lowering the hand that had covered her face, Roberta fixed her gaze beyond the bridge.
Even past the river, it was still wasteland. The river itself had dried up to less than half its width—there was no reason to expect anything different from the plains. The barren land stretched to the distant horizon, blending in shades of gray and brown.
There was nothing on the plain. No people, of course—not even wild animals. Only stones, grass, and dirt. This bleak scenery had continued for days. Ever since they left the city of Oberlangen the day after meeting Archbishop Giacomo, it had been like this.
"Will you continue as we are?"
"Yes, we have to. Is there a problem?"
At Roberta's question, Harald scratched his head.
"There might already be someone at the burial mound. It could be men sent by the archbishop—or grave robbers who caught wind of it. But as you can see, this place is completely open. There's nowhere to hide. If we approach, they'll definitely notice us. Is that alright?"
Instead of answering immediately, Roberta glanced to the side. Beatrice was riding to her left. She had entrusted other investigations to her attendants and personally joined the search for Yusuf's tomb.
The fact that she was investigating Archbishop Giacomo was hardly a secret. The moment an inquisitor visited him and requested a private audience, it was practically a declaration of suspicion.
However, it was uncertain whether he knew they were searching for Yusuf's tomb. Since they didn't yet understand how the tomb related to the archbishop's objective, it would be best to conceal their movements as much as possible.
She turned her gaze forward again. There was nowhere to hide in the wasteland. No ruins or hills—just flat, barren land stretching endlessly.
After some thought, Roberta looked at Ulrich.
"...."
He was gazing up at the sky. A few birds were flying high above in the blue expanse. They were so distant it was hard to make out what kind they were. After watching them for a moment, Ulrich beckoned to Fritz.
"Fritz, come closer."
Fritz guided his horse nearer, and Ulrich reached out, placing his hand on the boy's head and gently tilting it back. As Fritz's chin lifted, his gaze followed toward the flock of birds in the sky.
"Uh…?"
"Stay still."
As the startled Fritz tried to speak, Ulrich cut him off.
"Hold the branch of the spirit tree and concentrate."
Fritz seemed about to ask what he was trying to do, but a moment later, he flinched. Like someone pricked by a needle, he jolted in surprise, nearly losing his balance on the saddle before barely steadying himself.
"Just now… what was that?"
Fritz stared at Ulrich with wide eyes.
"What did you see?"
"…I—I saw something different," Fritz stammered. "I was definitely looking up at the sky, but suddenly my vision flipped, and I was looking down… from a high place, I was looking down at myself."
Ulrich nodded.
"It worked."
"Is this magic too?"
"It's fairy magic. Though it's been lost in this age."
Removing his hand, he continued.
"What you saw was that bird's perspective. Your consciousness briefly connected with it, allowing you to share its vision. It was a type of magic commonly used by fairies long ago. As descendants of the nature god Ophilus, fairies could share consciousness with animals and plants. That's also why their senses are especially sharp in forests."
Fritz looked at Ulrich in a daze.
"How was I able to do that?"
"You have this, don't you?"
Ulrich tapped the branch of the spirit tree lightly with his finger.
"Ah, come to think of it, the branch…"
"It helped you as a medium. Well then—would you like to try again?"
After hesitating for a moment, Fritz nodded. Ulrich once again placed his hand on the boy's head.
The boy's eyes fixed on the flock of birds in the sky. One bird changed direction and broke away from the group. Fritz followed it with his gaze, then slowly closed his eyes.
"I found it."
After some time, Fritz opened his eyes and spoke.
His right hand pointed to the northeast.
"There are several pits over there. There aren't any people, but… I think that's the burial mound."
#
Just as Fritz had said, the burial mound turned out to be a series of pits. They were wide and deep—six in total. If Harald hadn't insisted it was a burial site, they might have thought they had come to the wrong place.
"They're deeper than before—and there's one more pit now. Looks like quite a few visitors have come."
"When was the first time you found this place?"
"Already twenty years ago."
Harald stroked his beard.
"Of course, this tomb had been discovered long before that."
Ulrich descended into the first pit he had identified as a tomb. It was about the size of a small room, but its depth exceeded twice the height of a grown man. Around the pit, dry soil and broken stones had piled up like a crude wall.
"Do you know what was found here?"
"I've heard it was things like coffins, gravestones, and metal ornaments. It was an ordinary tomb."
By "ordinary," it meant it was not Yusuf's tomb.
"So there was nothing that could be identified as Yusuf's, then."
Harald looked down into the pit and said, "There was nothing." His voice echoed faintly.
"And not just here—every tomb discovered so far has been the same."
"I recall there being many such tombs beyond those marked on the map."
"This region has always had many burial mounds. Not just the bishopric—neighboring territories are the same."
"Do they also go to those neighboring lands in search of Yusuf's tomb?"
"No. Grave robbers believe the tomb is within the bishopric. So whenever they see an unclaimed grave in a wasteland like this, they dig it up first."
After examining the pit—empty save for dry soil—Ulrich climbed back out.
"There seem to be an unusually large number of burial mounds in this region."
Beatrice approached Ulrich, brushing the dirt from his clothes as she spoke.
"It's only natural. This area, including the Bishopric of Langen, used to be a place where tribes were scattered everywhere."
"Tribes? What kind of tribes do you mean?"
"Human tribes, of course."
Beatrice frowned slightly.
"If they were humans… then it must have been during the era of dwarves or fairies."
Before the age of humans, most of them lived scattered in tribal units. They formed groups, but only as subordinates to other races—there were no records of them building civilizations on the scale of cities.
"It was during the dwarven era. Before that, humans lived under Hestio, but as the age stabilized and their numbers grew, quite a few began to harbor different ambitions and left."
Beatrice tilted her head, her expression tightening in disbelief.
"How foolish. What kind of grand ambition would make them abandon their father?"
Her voice sharpened.
"Well, people each have their own will, don't they?"
"Was it enough to forsake their father?"
As he examined the pile of stones, Ulrich spoke.
"They didn't forsake him. Hestio had his own faults as well. He tried to protect his people, but as you know, the human era did not perish."
As she tried to respond, still unconvinced, he raised a hand. She bit her lip and frowned.
"Think about how long the name Hestio endured in history. In other words, while he may have been a father, he was a poor ruler. It's only natural that the desire to seek a better master—and greater prosperity—would arise."
"…And who did they choose as their new masters?"
"They went under the dwarves, the rulers of that era, or submitted to other races that had not yet perished. Some even served dragons."
Looking down at the empty pit, she let out a faint, dry laugh.
"So this is the result."
Roberta looked around.
This was said to be a place where human tribes once lived long ago—but how did he know that? Had he heard it from someone, like with the ruins on the Ice Peninsula? Or perhaps he had once lived here—or visited it himself.
One thing was certain: there was no civilization here now. Only barren plains, and graves that were nothing more than deep pits. There was no trace of whatever he might have seen or heard.
"After that, I came here several times. The last time I came, Harald, I met one of your distant ancestors. Back then, just like now, I had heard rumors about Yusuf's tomb. I came to find out whether those rumors were true."
Harald, who had been listening to their conversation, widened his eyes. He looked surprised at the claim of having met his ancestor. However, as if recalling something he had heard from his father—Udo, the old fence—his expression quickly settled.
"Did you search for Yusuf's tomb back then as well?"
"No, I lived as a fence. I opened a shop in Oberlangen and waited for news."
"Was that really necessary? Wouldn't it have been better to search for it yourself?"
Ulrich shook his head.
"Why would I, when I have no intention of stealing Yusuf's relics? If I were to find the grave of an old friend, I would only be disturbing his rest. And even if I discovered it and pretended otherwise, someone might trace my movements."
"Then how did you meet my ancestor?"
"The one who inherited that shop I mentioned—that was your ancestor."
Harald scratched the back of his neck, then paused.
"You mean the general store?"
"Yes. I was the one who made the sign hanging at its entrance."
A front for a fence's business. Just before following Ulrich into that shop, Roberta had seen two signs hanging at the entrance. One of them had rotted and crumbled with age.
She had wondered why there were two signs, and why the old one had been left there—but it turned out that his ancestor had kept it as a way of commemorating Ulrich in his own manner.
"So… that's why. Even my father didn't know the reason."
Harald let out a quiet sigh.
"When I sought out Udo, I called him 'elder.' Come to think of it, I was probably the one who started that. At the time, I extended my reach to every fence in Oberlangen. I built connections to hear news of my friend… and somehow, it turned out that way."
At first, it had been a mocking title, given his aged manner of speech despite his appearance—but before he realized it, he had truly become their leader. Harald stood there blankly, mouth slightly open at Ulrich's calm confession.
"He had a good eye, so I taught him a few things and left things to him—but I never expected his family line to continue to this day. I only came to the shop on a whim. Connections never cease to surprise me."
Ulrich mounted his horse. Harald remained dazed until Ulrich called out to him, at which point he hurriedly mounted his own horse and moved to the front.
>
They traveled for several more days. However, the second burial mound was no different from the first—nothing but pits. The only difference was its scale; there were twice as many pits as before.
Once it became clear that the excavated mound was not Yusuf's tomb, it seemed they had begun digging randomly around the area. And later-arriving grave robbers had joined in, until the original shape of the tomb was completely lost.
Ulrich entered the pits without disappointment, but the result was the same as before. He examined the dry soil carefully, then came back out.
Roberta thought the remaining two would likely be no different. The archbishop was essentially digging up places that grave robbers had already torn apart. No matter how much they re-excavated a ruined grave, it wouldn't suddenly become Yusuf's tomb.
Ulrich must have known that as well. Yet he insisted on checking the remaining two and led them onward to the next site.
And when they reached the third, Fritz borrowed the eyes of a bird to scout the area from afar.
"…Wait. Someone's there."
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