After bidding farewell to the Valkyrie and her vanguard, Men'ma and the Rustler resumed their journey in silence, attempting to pretend that nothing had happened—or at least, they tried to, for a while. It was evident from the furtive glances she cast in the Rustler's direction while pretending to gaze out of the window at the unfolding scenery that her encounter with her fellow had left her restless. The Rustler, seated, blatantly stared at her and couldn't help but notice that.

"Guh."

Once again, it happened, but this time around, instead of looking away, she locked gaze with him and said, "If you want to know, why don't you just ask?"

"Ask what?"

"Specifics. You heard what we talked about earlier. You must want to know, don't you? What this is all about."

"Perhaps, but now that you mention it, I won't deny that some clarification wouldn't hurt. So yes, I would like to know."

As if confronted with an inevitable reality she had known would eventually catch up with her, Men'ma couldn't help but release a deep and audible sigh. "Well, I guess there's no running from that now. First, let me ask you, do you believe in 'divine commission'?"

“Huh? What?”

“I said, do you believe in divine commission? You know, when someone is believed to have received a specific task or mission directly from a higher and transcending being."

Men’ma’s question hung in the air, followed by a pregnant silence. The Rustler's gaze remained fixed on Men'ma, his expression inscrutable.

"Don't just stare at me like that. I'm serious," she complained, her voice sounding serious but also tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "Do you believe it or not?"

Feeling that there was no deflecting that question, the Rustler replied, “I guess since the choice is between yes or no, I suppose I’ll lean toward the former.”

“So you believe it can happen, right?”

Well, it would be hypocritical of a certain someone to dismiss the possibility that "that" could actually happen.

“Yeah or something along those lines, I suppose.”

“Well, me too. Not just because I do but because it happened to me,” she explained. “And don’t look at me like that, I’m serious.”

“What are you talking about? I’m just staring at you.”

“—And you’re judging me, I can tell. You’re thinking I made this up, don’t you? Just like everyone else,” she accused.

Though slightly taken aback by her peculiar reaction, the Rustler responded firmly, "I don't know why you're thinking that, but I'm not."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. So what's the rest of the story? Did you receive a divine mission that led you across the continent in search of the one who turned out to be me?"

Upon hearing the Rustler utter these words, Men'ma fell into a contemplative silence before chuckling, "This is going to sound outrageous, but it's more or less that. People simply wouldn't believe me if I said I received this mission from the Matriarch or even the Goddess Zaraha herself. But now, more than ever, I firmly believe that I have."

"Two years—no, three years ago, I was just a winged Odoe, and I underwent the ceremony that would have made me a crowned Odoe: a valkyrie. Do you know how it works?"

"I do," the Rustler replied, failing to realize that her question was rhetorical, a mistake he would soon regret.

"You do?" She frowned. "I don't remember telling you about it. Did Ninjara inform you? No, as a common Odoe from across the continent, she wouldn't have known."

"I'm not exactly sure what you're referring to," the Rustler deflected, reluctant to reveal the true source of his knowledge. He added, "But I do know that the ceremony you're talking about is likely the one where you received your crown, isn't it?"

"Yes, exactly. But do you know how we are granted a crown?"

The Rustler shook his head.

"Every seven years, on a day of full lunar harmony, eight new winged female Odoe are chosen to become Valkyrie. Well, actually, the true name is 'maiden-Valkyrie.' Each of these maidens takes over the role from the previous batch of eight maiden-valkyrie, who can then finally become proper valkyrie. It is they who are responsible for tending to the Odo tree. As for us maiden-valkyrie, we have different tasks, more domestic in nature, while we wait for the next generation of maiden-valkyrie to become proper valkyrie. I'm getting lost in my own explanation, but you should understand the essence of it."

"More or less."

"In short, An'nah and I are—"

"Maiden-valkyrie."

"Exactly. And the two of us became maiden-valkyrie around three years ago," she explained, reaching for her crown. "It was then, as I consumed the Blessing of the Odo tree—ah, you must not know about that either. Basically, it's a holy catalyst that ripens from the Odoe tree, allowing winged Odoe to ascend to Crowned Odoe."

"Something that ripens from the Odoe tree, like a fruit?"

"It's holy! Don't you dare call it that," Men'ma scolded.

"Okay, okay, I understand."

"Anyway, as I was saying... On a day of lunar harmony, I consumed the holy catalyst and became a crowned Odoe. And as I did, I saw it, I heard it."

Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

"What did you see and hear?"

"I saw a land that I was certain wasn't our Odoe home. And I heard a strange sound that was different from that of the Odoe tree," Men'ma replied.

"What kind of sound?" the Rustler asked, growing suspicious.

"That sound was the same as the rustling sound you make whenever you wield your Odoe," she revealed.

As I thought.

"I immediately recognized it when I heard it from you the second time," Men'ma continued.

"So, you left the continent because of a sound and a glimpse in a dream?" the Rustler questioned skeptically.

"No, it wasn't solely based on that. Absolutely not. But I already entertained the idea, sought guidance from people around me, and you can imagine their reactions," she explained.

"They didn't take you seriously, did they?" he guessed.

Men'ma nodded after a momentary sigh. "I can't really blame them. At the time, I gave them reasons to doubt me."

"So, you were like the odd one out?" the Rustler suggested.

"Not an odd one out, but a free-spirited yet deeply dedicated woman," she clarified.

"That sounds contradictory to me," he remarked.

"Perhaps it does. Anyway, despite the opinions of those around me, who believed it was best to abandon this inner calling, I decided to bury it and forget about it. It seemed like the reasonable thing to do at the time. But then, she came along."

“She? Are you talking about that Dae Odoe?”

"Yes, Feh'Zoro. She came to us—or rather, she was brought to us—and revealed things about a young Arbian causing chaos and destruction in the central continent. By her words, this individual possesses the ability to wield both pranakinesis and Odo, a power that should not be in their hands," Men'ma explained. “When I heard that from her I knew what had to be done.”

“That’s when you left?”

"That's when I left, abandoning my home and my duties as a Valkyrie. You can imagine the kind of trouble I'm in, right?"

"Relatively, yeah. It sounds like a massive mess.”

"It is. That's why I'm relying on you to help me navigate through it when we reach the capital, especially when facing the Eldest.”

Well, you're saying that, but I'm not sure what exactly I'm supposed to do.

"She's going to kill me, clearly—" Men'ma started to lament, but her words were abruptly interrupted by the carriage driver, who shouted to announce their arrival.

"Lady Men'ma, I apologize for the interruption, but the capital is in view," the driver exclaimed.

"Already?" Men'ma exclaimed, rushing to the window and sticking her head out. "He's right! Ah, An'nah's stave is just ahead. Hey, Rustler, come see this!"

"Of course," the Rustler complied, joining Men'ma at the window. As he gazed ahead, he was greeted by the sight of a towering golden pillar, standing as a solitary structure. In the background, a magnificent golden city unfolded, intricately built around a colossal golden tree.

They certainly spared no expense in embracing the golden hue of Odo, creating a captivating scene that exudes opulence and grandeur.

"What do you think of it?" Men'ma eagerly asked, momentarily swept away by the majestic spectacle, seemingly forgetting the worries that had plagued her just moments before. "Isn't it grandiose?"

"Yeah, it sure is," the Rustler replied.

"And you still haven't experienced it from within; nothing compares to what you've seen before," Men'ma proudly declared. However, her tone swiftly shifted to a more serious one. "Anyway, since we're about to pass the stave, I think it's time I bless you, especially since An'nah wouldn't do it."

"Bless me?"

"Didn't you know? As a non-Dae Odoe born under the Shades of the Odo Tree, you won't be able to pass the stave—at least, not without the blessing of a Valkyrie," Men'ma explained.

The Rustler was already aware of this.

Unlike the Central Continent, the Southern Continent was home to a plethora of dangerous monsters. These creatures far surpassed the level of mere "hatchlings" and posed a significant threat to the Odo Tree and its inhabitants. In order to safeguard themselves from these lurking monstrosities, the Odoe Race, or more precisely, its precursors, erected seven pillars strategically placed around the Golden Tree. These pillars acted as formidable barriers, repelling and detering any creatures or forces that were not of Dae Odoe origin that would try to make it past the stave. There was simply no reasonable way to brute-forcing one’s way past those staves.

He had been well informed about that. And he had also been informed about something else.

"Wait," the Rustler suddenly interrupted, reaching out to grab Men'ma's wrist.

“What? Is there a problem?”

“Are you sure there isn’t something you haven’t talked to me about yet?”

“Like?”

Instead of replying. The Rustler spent a moment scrutinizing Men’ma expression as if to seek out a single flaw in them that could betray a lie, he found none. She looked genuinely confused.

“Like the fact that I’m an arbian—a mage and that the moment I would step past those staves I would have my pranakinesis and my… nevermind, you know what I’m talking about.”

As a child, the Rustler would often immerse themselves in contemplation, spending hours pondering various what-if scenarios. One recurring theme that captured their imagination was devising strategies to navigate past the formidable staves without falling victim to their powers.

The staves, though not physical barriers for monsters or objects, possessed a peculiar quality that made them a rather efficient deterrent from anything for even trying to make it past their confines. Those bold enough to try would inevitably face the destructive force of a literal Ocean of Odo summoned by them. Considering that it drew Odo from the Odo tree, the very source of all Odo powers, it was fair to say that overcoming it was simply an impossible ordeal. However, this aspect could be repressed with the blessing of a Valkyrie, which allowed those not born under the shades of the Odo tree to be spared by the staves.

Nevertheless, even with the blessing of a Valkyrie, the staves themselves harbored an inherent ability to seal away powers. Within their confining boundaries, anything that was not Odo, such as Pranakinesis and Arcane wielding, would be suppressed to the point of non-existence.

“Oh, that. It was true that I never talked to you about it. Wait,—” She frowned at the Rustler. “Then how do you know about it?”

Casting a glance at the figure sitting on the opposite seat, “Ninjara,” the Rustler lied.

“She knew about that? Strange. Most Odoe I met on the continent didn’t even know about the barrier. That’s how much they’ve been estranged from us.”

“Well, that’s how it is.”

“I see,” Men’ma nodded, seemingly content with the Rustler’s explanation. “So, what’s the matter about it?”

“What’s the matter about it?” The Rustle, mumbling, repeated.

On a whim, he had agreed to accompany Men'ma, enduring shaky and swaying ordeals on both land and sea. And now, he found himself here, standing at the doorstep of an entirely new world. Yet here he was already —forced to make a choice he didn’t want to take.

"Sure, you're going to lose access to your pranakinesis, but it's not like you'll need it in there, right?” She asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

“I most likely won’t, but still I have to ask, when I will get in there am I allowed to at least leave the stave confines from time to time,” the Rustler requested.

“If it’s about your pranaki—”

“It’s not about my pranakinesis!”

“Then what is it about?”

Casting a glance at the girl whose presence could only be seen by him alone, sitting across from him in the carriage, the Rustler bitterly bit his lip.