"White stone--!"
The next moment, a low cry came from Guin's mouth.
(where the black mountain intersects with the white stone)
(There's Ragon.)
Linda's prophecy suddenly came back to me.
"The white stone, the black mountain-- that's what this is!"
The field of rock salt stretches over the dark gray earth of the Gutou Mountains as if to cover them.
The Wolf King seemed to have forgotten about Guin. He was still licking the rocks and snorting like a little wolf. He looks as if he were nothing more than a piece of rock salt chiseled into the shape of a wolf.
Guin took a handy chunk and stuffed it into his pickaxe. Then he took a smaller lump and, again with instinctive desire, began to lick it, imitating the Wolf King.
In the deserts of Nosferus there is little chance of finding such rock salt. The food of the Semites is almost tasteless, and probably the great quantity of salt required by their hot climate is supplied by the mass of salt which they pick up from between the hairs of their monkeys, after they have perspired, and by the little that their meat contains. and a little bit of meat.
How they would rejoice to see this field of rock salt. Such thoughts suddenly crossed Guin's mind, but his immediate goal was not the salt, but the Lagoons.
That's where the lagon is. Where's Ragon?
Guin looked around.
It is already getting late and the moon Iris is shining pale in the middle of the sky. In the light of the moon, the valley of the rock salt is as white as a northern country covered with snow.
The soil must be the worst possible for nurturing living things, since such salinity would seep into the rocks, the ground and, of course, the rainwater (although there is no rainy season here in Nosferus). In the valley, as far as the eye can see, there is not a single plant, not even a speck of moss, not even a rock lizard that runs quickly from rock to rock and disappears, not even a rockhopper that mimics a rock to deceive its prey, not even an insect of any kind.
Of course, there was no way that the gigantic figure of the legendary Lagon Tribe, which was only rumored to exist, would be there.
But, Linda said... we must cross the Dogtooth Mountains. Ragon is beyond the white stone. Where the white stone meets the black mountain... that's where Ragon's soul is. ... Be mindful of the winds of death.
Guin believed in the prophecy of Linda, the seer. In fact, when he crossed Guto Mountain, he saw a scene of "white stones mingling with black mountains.
Beyond the white stone. We have to cross this salt field. The spirit of Ragon is here-- what spirit of Ragon are you talking about?
There was no way of knowing that either, but the path to take was clear. We must continue on and cross this salt valley. Fortunately, this didn't seem to be a very large area.
Guin took another bite of the lump of salt in his hand, but, realizing that if he indulged his appetite too much, he would later feel a chill in his throat and suffer the consequences of his licentiousness, he threw the lump away. So he threw the lump away. The lump hit another rock of salt and fell apart.
(one's parents') elder brother
Guin's keen eyes caught something shiny at that moment. It seemed to be something buried in the dust of the now-crushed rock salt.
He crouched down nimbly and brushed salt and sand from his hands. His hand touches something hard. It seems to be buried deeper than expected, and it does not come out easily even when he pulls on it. It feels like something made of metal to the touch.
Guin felt an inexplicable urge to shovel the soil relentlessly. After much digging, the tip finally appeared.
It was strange. Silvery, smooth, and strange-looking. I pulled on it, but it did not move. He grasped it by the tip and dug down to the left and right, then pulled with all his might, and at last the whole thing came up to his hand.
When he removed the sand, he tilted his head. He had never seen such a thing before, and he had no idea what it was used for.
However, there seems to be no doubt that it was intentionally made as a tool for something. It was, if anything, a silver flute, or a prayer stick, or perhaps a short, collapsible staff. On the opposite side of Guin's hand, there were a series of odd-looking patches.
Guin watched it for a while in the moonlight. Even as he watched, nothing came to him. The strange, unknowable knowledge that had always helped Guin did not help him this time. But with the same strange urgency that he had felt when he had felt compelled to dig it out again, he slipped it carelessly into his waistband.
There will come a time when we will know who you are.
He mumbled something to the effect of.
"At any rate, we must cross the valley of the White Stone while there is still moonlight. If we are serious about returning in time for our appointment with Shem and the others, we must make the journey back over the Doghead by noon tomorrow, no matter how late it is."
He thought to himself, then turned to the Wolf King as if to nudge him.
The Wolf King kept an indifferent face. Although he had stopped licking the salt like a madman, he sat down between the salt rocks and was licking his tongue in a manner somewhat similar to that of a man who had been drunk with wine. His stern eyes were glazed over, and his face might have been the equivalent of a human being slouching like a fool. He had urged Guin on so much, and had led him about so anxiously, but now he seemed to have lost all interest in the leopard man.
Or perhaps, the very idea that a wolf, however wise, would guide a man by the will of God is unnatural. Perhaps the old wolf king was just following Guin because he wanted to come to this field of salt, which had the same magical power for him as that of wine and matatabi.
Although he thought so, he tried to attract the attention of the Wolf King and called out to him. Somehow, the great wolf with whom he had spent a day and a night had something that attracted him, and he had a vague feeling that he did not want to part with him just yet.
But the Wolf King only turned his glazed eyes on him and looked annoyed. Clearly, he had no intention of going on from here.
"I see."
After trying several times to get his attention, Guin finally gave up.
"Then I guess this is where we say goodbye. You've been very good to me. I'll never forget your hospitality. However, if I can get Ragon back alive, I'll probably have to pass through your kingdom on the way back, but I doubt you'll be able to see me with so many giants in tow."
It is as if he is talking to a reasonable person. And in fact, between this huge white wolf - the king of Dogtooth Mountain - and this leopard-headed warrior with an unusual destiny, a much more fundamental and sincere exchange was born than that between ordinary human beings.
Guin gave another parting glance at the old king, who was sitting there as if he were enjoying a drunken stupor, and then he stepped into the salt field. The moonlight cast a white glow over the salt rocks, so that walking, even at night, was as easy as walking in the daytime.
When Guin finally turned to look at him, he could no longer make out the old wolf-king, whether he had had enough of the salt feast and had gone off to drink water, or whether his pure white Asgarn glacier-like fur had been lost in the white of the salt. It was nowhere to be seen.
Guin is alone again.
They were not talking to each other, they were not even human, but a companion was a companion. When the old king was gone, the road seemed to be much longer than it actually was, and it seemed as if the salt field would never end.
But that thought passed in time. Guin stopped for a moment and hurried on.
The scene around me was turning into something quite fantastic.
This was in response to the gradual loss of the black ground, which was being covered with a blanket of white. The salt crystallized here and there, creating beautiful, mysterious objects. Guin walked past salt crystals in the shape of animal bones and, more mysteriously, salt trees in the shape of standing trees. Salt does not have the power to kill living things, so the bones must have died there a long time ago and were left as they were, and salt crystals were attached to them, creating a strange and uniquely beautiful sculpture. The salt trees, of which there were not only one but several, were clearly surrounded by salt and died while standing.
It was fantastic, but it was also strangely frightening, depending on how you looked at it. The ground crumbled as Guin stepped on it. The layer of salt seemed to grow thicker as he moved deeper into the valley.
Guin's foot stepped on a ball of salt. Immediately a ruby glow shot into Guin's eyes.
Feeling as if the salt had bled, Guin rushed to pick it up and groaned noiselessly.
It was the fruit of some kind of tree that was red and clear. Perhaps it was a branch of one of the many salt trees that had fallen to the ground and become salted. It was as shiny as a ruby and looked as if it had just been washed. In such a salty environment, I am sure that the thing will never decay. He gnashed his teeth at it, and in a panic Guin spat it out and threw it away. Its contents were no different from fruit made of salt itself.
It was a scene that seemed beautiful and illusory at first, but after a while, a feeling of disgust and a vague, inhuman fear crept into my heart. It seemed to me that I had accidentally wandered into a part of a completely strange and different planet.
Salt absorbs water. If Guin were to fall here, with nothing but a piece of salt in his mouth, he would lose all the water in his body and become a mummy, and then he would stay forever in this snow of salt without rotting, and then his whole body would be covered with this beautiful white powder. His whole body will be covered with this beautiful white powder. This was, after all, the valley of death. All the springs and rivers in the vicinity would be undrinkable because of their salt content, and for the same reason not even a single fish would be able to live here, not even the "big mouth".
When I look at it again with such eyes, this beautiful valley with its salt trees, salt rocks, and salt bones, which gives me the illusion of a snowy land, looks horrible and horrible to look at.
It's Nosferus, the cursed land.
Guin murmured. Perhaps it was because he had just taken a mouthful of salt, or perhaps it was because he had been through the valley of salt for a long time, but he was beginning to feel quite thirsty.
But you seem to like the white sand of the desert better.
Again, Guin thought. Then, noticing that his surroundings were becoming brighter, he looked up and looked around him.
Throughout the night, I have walked through that white world. Before I knew it, the pale, subdued light of the Iris had been replaced by the reddish, portentous light of the lure's chariot, like a prophecy.
The third morning has come.
(Only two days left)
The second day is already about to begin.
Is everything going according to Istvan's plan? Are Shem and the others fighting amongst themselves? Are the Paro twins waiting quietly? (How far has Mongol's army advanced?)
It's all a mystery to me. Guin looked to the sky for answers.
It was then that the first light of the lure reached this valley of death.
(Oh ...)
Guin stood still for a moment, trying to cover his eyes with his hands as if he had been struck.
That is how brilliant and dazzling the seven-colored light that suddenly filled the area was.
It reflected the light even more gloriously than the snow. The salt trees, the rocks, the bones, and the footprints of Guin's footsteps caught the sun's rays on their crystals like a rainbow, and they twirled brilliantly as if in a morning ceremony at the Crystal Palace with its sacred music.
It was a spectacularly beautiful and terrifying dance of light. It was not enough to hold out one's hand, and it was impossible to keep one's eyes open.
Guin stumbled involuntarily. If he got hit in the eye here, it would be the end. He shielded his eyes tightly with both hands and hurried onward. He knew that he would soon be out of this valley of salt anyway.
Neither the music of the light nor the feast of the rainbow stirred his heart. With his eyes closed, he stopped as if he were frightened not to be caught by this tremendous white creature, so that he tripped over a rock and struck his knee, but he walked on like a madman.
His steps became faster and faster, until at last he was almost cantering. Something like inexplicable fear and disgust was driving him.
He ran.
At that time, if there had not been a loud voice from the front, I would have kept running.
"Stop."
His voice seemed to be filled with surprise, suspicion, and hostility at the same time.
"Stop. What are you doing?"
"Where are you going?"
"What are you?"
There are many voices intermingling, telling you that you are not alone.
Guin, risking damage to his eyes from the reflection of the light, suddenly opened his eyes.
And there stood Ragon.
It was indeed a lagon.
It must be none other than Ragon. In contrast to Shem, the dwarf of Nosferus, Ragon is called a giant. The four humans - if that's what you can call them - standing in front of Guin, with their huge spears pointing at him and their tips resting squarely on his chest, were indeed four giants. were indeed four giants.
Even the smallest is a finger taller than Guin, who is two tarts tall. The biggest one is almost a head taller.
Her side is, of course, just as it should be. However, if anything, his weight seems to be less than his height. Because of this, he seemed agile, and there was nothing slow about him. However, from the fact that he was handling the incredibly huge spear with a stone ear with such ease, it seemed that he was also quite powerful.
They seemed to be on their guard. With their spears pointed at him, they stared at Guin without moving. There is a hint of doubt and confusion in their eyes.
Three of them were men. At least one of them, the smallest of them, was thought to be so, because he looked a little different from the others. Not only was he somewhat smaller in height and weight than the other three, but he also had a long, coarse head of hair that hung down from his shoulders to his chest. The other three wear only a loincloth of tanned leather, but this one also wears a cloth of leather that reaches to one shoulder and is tied above the shoulder.
But apart from that, there was no difference between the three men and their women (if they were). They all had reddish-gold skin, leather sandals on their feet, well-developed muscles all over their bodies, and no hair on their bodies, unlike Shem - at least not on the front. And they had no hair on their bodies unlike the Shem, at least not on the front, for later, when they turned their heads backward, they saw a dense growth of stiff, mane-like hair from the nape of their neck to their waist.
His face was also very different from Shem's. His forehead was extremely wide and high. It was almost bizarre. And the chin is somewhat protruding. As a result, the head as a whole looks long and slender, like an upside-down wine jar. The eyes, however, have an unmistakable intelligence and a fierce gleam in them. His body seemed to have been smeared with some animal fat, and his bare skin shone brightly. He carried a stone dagger at his waist and a strange tool on his back. It was a small bucket that looked as if it had been hollowed out of a stone, and along with it was a spoon with a long handle.
"What are you?"
The tallest Ragon opened his mouth again, glaring at me with an unwary stare.
"The head of a beast, the body of a man-lagon. I've never seen anything like it. What are you?"
Guin was not sure how to answer. But again, with a dizzy feeling, he realized that the miracle was not yet all over.
He can understand every word Ragon speaks.
In fact, it was a language very similar to the language of Shem, although it is difficult to believe so because it was spoken in a thick, low voice, unlike the high-pitched vocal cords of Shem. Thus, the statement that the Semites and the Lagonese were originally descendants of the ancient empire of Canaan, and that they were so different from each other that they were derived from the same root, might be quite true.
"I'm not--"
As always, Guin said, unsure of the answer. It was much easier for his thick, low voice to handle the words of Lagon than the high-pitched Semitic.
"He's gonna talk.
One of the Lagoons says with a stone spear pointed at him.
"So, you're a human lagomorph."
"No, Ragon doesn't have the head of a beast."
"But the beast does not speak."
"It's a creature I've never seen before. Not a wolf, not a lizard."
"But if it talks, it's a human ragon.
The tall lagon at the head of the group concluded that for the moment and pointed his spear at him again.
"Ragon the Beast's Head, you, where do you come from?"
"I'm Guin."
Guin said slowly.
"I came from beyond the Salt Flats, beyond Mount Gutou."
"Beyond the Dogtooth Mountain is the land of the dead."
The leader says.
"If you're from the land of the dead, you're an evil spirit. Evil spirits can't enter the village of Lagon."
"I am a living man. The land beyond Dogtooth Mountain is not a land of the dead. That's why I came over the Dogtooth Mountain."
"Beyond Mount Gutou is the land of the dead."
The leader kept coming back.
"That's why you have the head of a monster. You are an evil spirit."
"I'll explain that later. But I need a favor. I need to see the King of Ragon."
Guin said, and Ragon and the others buzzed for a moment.
"Or does Ragon not have a king?"
"There is no king. Dodo the Wise, Kaa the Brave, they will decide things for Ragon."
"Then let me see the wise dodo and the brave cur."
"I'll show you."
The leader simply said.
"But as a sinner, to be judged. You are a monster. From the land of the dead. And you trampled the precious white sand-- what is it you have there?"
The leader found a lump of salt that Guin was hiding and took it away, spilling it all over the place.
"The white sand is for Ragon alone, sacred to Ragon. The thief will be punished. Follow me."
The tip of the spear pokes Guin in the chest.
From the start, he didn't want to fight. It was his purpose to meet the King of Ragon - no matter how unfriendly the situation might be. Guin obeyed silently, and as the four lagoons closed in around him and escorted him, he meekly walked down the slope where the black ground appeared again.
He was taken prisoner by the barbarian Ragon.