"Mom, am I going to die?"
The child asked.
"No, no way. You'll be fine after sleeping for a few nights."
The mother replied.
"Okay."
The child couldn't open his eyes properly because of the gunk that kept building up.
The fever had not subsided for days, and now he couldn't see properly.
"Grrrk."
Seeing the child foaming at the mouth in the early morning tore the mother's heart apart.
One day, blue spots started appearing all over the child's body, and the veins in the arms and legs bulged, turning purple. The child began to feel pain.
'Let me take on the pain instead.'
So, whoever it is, whether it's a guardian spirit or an ancestral deity, just save my child.
The mother set out in the early morning, digging for herbs to ease the pain.
"It's dangerous to go out now."
A warrior patrolling the area around the tent warned her.
Although the occurrence of monsters in the west was significantly lower than on the continent, danger still lurked. If you were unlucky, death would come just as easily here as it did on the continent.
"It'll be fine."
Sometimes the thought of wanting to die would suddenly arise. But she couldn't afford to do that.
"Mom, Mom."
The child, holding on despite the pain, continued to call for her.
Resentment welled up. A heat rose from her feet to her chest, burning inside.
'Why?'
This isn't the natural order of things.
Anyone can die.
'But it shouldn't be my child's turn.'
Why does such a young child have to endure this suffering?
The mother pulled out a short dagger she had kept in her bosom. The blade was a hand's length, gently curved.
It was a dagger called a Karam Bitt.
The dull gray metal blade wasn't very sharp on the outer side, but the inner side was well-honed.
It was sharp enough to slit a small child's neck.
It was more than enough to drag across her own throat.
How long, just how long would she have to watch her child suffer in this river of agony?
Even if dying by the blade would be painful, it wouldn't last long.
Even drowning in a river wouldn't be as drawn out as this suffering.
"You can't just do it like that. You need something bigger than a spring, a lake bigger than a stream, or even a river."
The eldest sorcerer had said, closing his eyes.
That was his last statement. After that, he never opened his eyes again.
He had collapsed in a praying position, and hadn't woken since.
The flame of hope had been extinguished. The world had darkened.
Everything that had been her life was dying.
She had eyes but could not see the light, ears but could not hear the birds chirping.
The child was suffering in pain, dying.
The mother had risked her life to gather herbs that might ease the pain.
"It's over here. Over here."
She had encountered a monster while wandering. It had called to her in her child's voice.
It sounded like her child's voice in danger. That's how she had heard it.
She listened closely to the sound, turning her head. She was so sleep-deprived she felt dazed.
Despair and frustration had gnawed at her body and mind.
'If I save this child, perhaps someone will save mine.'
This futile hope clouded her mind and blurred her vision.
She was between two ridges when she heard the voice and took a step forward, but someone grabbed her shoulder from behind.
"It's a copycat. You should know that."
When she turned around, she saw a man with a sharp jaw and hard eyes.
It had been five years since the child's father had died.
Naturally, people began to talk about remarriage.
During that time, this man had started hovering around her.
He had seen her going out alone and followed her.
"It was my child's voice."
"Are you going to abandon your child and give up on living? If you die, that's the end. Is that what you want? To die before your child? Don't weaken."
The man spoke, and the woman's heart collapsed, tears streaming down her face.
He was right. It was a copycat, a mimic beast.
If the continent had dogs with human faces, here they had monsters that mimicked voices.
For an average adult male, especially a warrior, such a creature wouldn't be difficult to deal with.
Even the mother could have handled it if she had been in her right mind.
But facing it in her current state would have been dangerous.
The monster was relatively weak, but still a monster.
Its claws were more than enough to tear through human skin.
"Then do something."
The mother said, and the man remained silent.
She was willing to sell her soul if she had to. She was willing to break taboos. If she had to abandon her chastity, she would do that too.
She could do anything, really anything.
She would give her life. Take whatever you want, anything, she thought.
A demon would be fine. A monster would be fine. A beast would be fine. Cannibals would be fine.
Just save her child.
Then she will do whatever you wish.
She made her plea. But no one listened.
The child's mother faced the wave of despair and fell to her knees.
There was no longer any way.
The curse of the fortune-telling tribe would kill her child.
Just as the others had died, her child would soon follow.
"Why?"
The mother asked the sky. Still, no answer came.
She looked at a man who had gone mad after losing his lover.
There was a woman who had lost her partner and was left in a daze.
The chief had deliberately separated the cursed ones from the rest of the tribe.
The curse wasn't contagious, but some believed it would spread, and the chief had done this to keep their misery from affecting the others.
For now, the curse was still just a problem for a few members of the tribe.
It wasn't something that affected hundreds, only dozens.
For the group, it was a small number. For the individual, it was just one.
The curse was slowly eating away at the western tribe from within.
The mother was one of those being consumed.
'If my child dies, no one will be left unscathed.'
Malice welled up in her heart.
If they had broken the taboo, so should we.
But the chief showed only lukewarm reactions.
'I will not stand by and watch. I will never stand by and watch.'
Half-crazed with despair, agony, resentment, and malice, the mother's mind festered.
This was the real curse.
The mother, holding herbs, saw children playing.
A few days ago, she would have looked at them with sorrow, thinking of her own child. But now, she was filled with resentment.
Why does it have to be my child?
Why are these children laughing?
Why am I the only one in pain?
"Come here."
She spoke to the children. With great restraint, she entered the cursed tent. She sat beside her child.
The other children were innocent. She tried to calm herself.
The veins bulging in purple, the blue spots, and the gunk covering half of the child's face.
'Is this my child's face? Is this my child's body?'
"Grkkk."
She clenched her teeth and swallowed her sobs. Her child would never see again.
So.
'Chief.'
'I ask you.'
What is the right path?
Are we to just sit back and suffer?
Why are we taking this curse from the fortune-teller tribe?
Lift this curse now. If this isn't your responsibility, whose is it?
Grief turned to resentment.
Resentment gave birth to malice.
It filled the entire tent. Even a stranger could sense the sinister air, and those who knew the situation would recognize the danger.
* * *
Hira, the fortune-teller, was worried that the curse was slowly devouring the tribe.
Thanks to the eldest sorcerer and the foremost warrior holding it off with their bodies, it was only this bad. But what about the future?
Dunbachel, who entered the tent, frowned.
Luagarne didn't seem to care, while Encrid sensed the malice that pricked his sixth sense.
Why does the atmosphere feel like this?
That was his thought as he entered the tent. A stench, both stale and unpleasant, filled his nose.
It was inevitable, as people who hadn't been able to bathe properly had gathered inside.
As he walked further in, he saw a child lying on a makeshift bed of layered cloth near the entrance.
Why do they have so much gunk on their eyes? Someone should clean them up.
As he watched, the child moved an arm. They weren't asking to hold his hand.
They had just reached out as he walked by.
He wasn't worried that the curse would affect him.
If it were contagious, they wouldn't have left it like this.
It would have already spread, causing havoc everywhere.
For now, it was still an issue for a few, but it seemed like a troublesome problem. That was all.
Then the child's hand touched his, and he grabbed it. It brought back old memories.
"There's nothing we can do."
The mercenary captain had said this while looking at those afflicted with the plague.
It was just something beyond their control. It wasn't something you could fix with a sword.
With no cleric in Krona, they couldn't even find a healer.
Encrid had done something insane back then.
There was only one thing his sword could do, and Encrid had done it.
"Are you crazy?"
A companion who had followed him despite his warnings had said.
Encrid didn't reply. He just did what he had to do.
"Are you going to die here? Or follow me?"
It was the home of the most skilled healer in the region.
Having no other option, they had snuck over the wall in the dead of night.
Encrid had held a sword to the healer's throat and spoken those words.
The healer had two choices.
Die here, or follow him.
"I'll go!"
The greedy healer had bowed to the blade.
"Are you a mercenary or a thief?"
The companion had kept criticizing Encrid non-stop.
There hadn't even been time to ask why. Things had been too busy.
In the end, they kidnapped the healer. That was the best they could do with a sword.
Because of that, Encrid had briefly become a fugitive.
"You're truly insane."
The companion had said this while hiding him for a short time.
Later, when they parted ways, she had explained why she had helped him. The words, spoken with a bit of embarrassment, stayed with him.
"Watching you, I remembered my little brother back home."
She had been a female mercenary, ten years his senior.
"I didn't see you as a man, kid."
That had been her blunt farewell.
So he had wandered the continent for a while.
Even after kidnapping the healer, the child had died, and he had buried the body.
Now, the child whose hand he had touched was still alive.
That meant there was no reason to give up. Curse or not, there was a way to save them.
Even if there wasn't, he had to do everything he could until the end.
That's how the living could survive.
Even if you had to let go, just knowing that you had done something would help the survivors carry on.
Tap, tap.
He held the child's hand and gently tapped the back of it with his other hand.
It was a reassuring gesture. The child's hand tried to squeeze back but lacked the strength. It was a feeble grip.
Encrid, being careful not to hurt the child, held his hand.
He couldn't have been more than ten years old.
Ahead, the child's mother came into view. She was the woman who had passed by the children in the village square earlier.
She looked like someone with a fierce temper. She hadn't yelled at the children, but you could see the sharpness in her eyes.
Now, the woman was wiping the child's face with a cloth dipped in water.
The gunk came off easily as she wiped it away.
Why hadn't she done this sooner?
As he watched, the child opened their eyes.
Hira shouted, and the twins rushed over.
As he continued to watch, Rem entered.
He was with his wife.
Behind them, Juol stood blinking in surprise.
"What did you do?"
Rem asked.
Encrid briefly raised his hand and looked at it.
Was it the left hand?
No. It was the right hand. He switched hands and looked back at Rem.
Encrid was quick-witted.
He understood the situation. It had been his hand.
"I think I've awakened Divine Power."
Encrid whispered as Rem approached.
Of course, he didn't really believe it. It was just a silly joke in the style of a Fairy.
"There's a curse here too, right?"
Rem asked with a serious tone as he looked back.
"It's not that kind of curse. It's the source of malice."
Rem's wife spoke without hesitation, her words sharp. Yet her gaze didn't leave the child.
Ayul also looked surprised.
Rem nodded as if to say, 'I see.'
"Then what is it?"
Rem asked again.
"I have no idea."
Encrid shrugged. He really didn't know.
But there was someone for whom this didn't matter.
Hira, her eyes wide, was deep in thought. How could this happen?
She had said that something bigger than a spring was needed.
Next to her, the mother of the child, whose veins had receded and spots had faded, gazed at Encrid with eyes shining like starlight.
"You."
She called out to Encrid.
"Hmm?"
Encrid responded. He truly didn't know what he had done.
But looking at the situation, it seemed like his hand had caused it. Whether it was a coincidence or something else, it appeared that way.
The child's mother seemed to think so too.
She knelt down, turned her palms upward, and pressed her forehead to the ground.
The thick fabric laid on the tent floor wasn't very clean.
There were clear stains of blood, sweat, and pus.
Despite this, she unhesitatingly knelt and bowed.
"I will do anything you wish, please, just stay by my child's side…"
The mother couldn't even finish her sentence. She was trembling.
"Damn it, what did you do? Do you know what that means? It means she's willing to give her body or whatever else you ask for."
Rem urgently whispered.
It literally meant that if Encrid asked her to come to his tent tonight, even naked, she would do it with a smile.
That's what it meant.
Of course, Encrid didn't understand that.
At that moment, Hira lifted her head and slowly, yet meticulously, looked Encrid up and down.
The reason for this event? She didn't know.
But one thing was certain.
Hira was not only a sorcerer and fortune-teller, but her main expertise was healing sorcery.
Since most healing techniques were based on sorcererism, she was skilled in removing curses or side effects caused by misused spells.
Her senses told her that the curse the fortune-teller tribe had cast was weakening.
And it was all thanks to one man.
Though she couldn't pinpoint the reason, she had a rough idea of the mechanism.
This man dispelled the curse around him.
In other words.
"I would also like to make a request."
Hira said urgently.
This curse was dangerous. She hadn't been able to tell the whole tribe, but Hira had sensed the end of the tribe.
That ominous feeling had now been twisted.
"Everyone, let's pause for a moment."
Rem stepped in to mediate. Encrid just stood there, bewildered.
Because he truly had no idea what was going on.
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