The Decadent Blair

Richie had convened the elders many times over these past days to discuss important matters concerning defense against the sea monsters.

But every time.

One elder was absent.

This time.

He swept his gaze over the elders who had come to deliberate, and when he still didn't see that familiar figure.

Richie couldn't help but sigh softly in his heart.

"Has Blair still not recovered?"

If.

The tribe wanted to establish defenses and weapons to fight those terrifying monsters.

Then Blair was naturally an indispensable choice.

But this time, the other party had again failed to attend the meeting, citing poor health.

The elders heard the clan leader's question.

After exchanging glances, a trace of sympathy appeared on their faces.

As early as several months ago.

Blair had fallen ill.

During this time, Blair had lain sick in his bed and never come out.

People also knew very well.

Blair wasn't suffering from a physical illness.

But a sickness of the heart.

That Driftwood Boat had been Blair's life's work for many years.

They deeply understood that the effort he had poured into it exceeded what he had given to his own children.

Seeing the boat destroyed like that naturally dealt him a heavy blow.

Richie finally decided to personally go and persuade this wise man he valued so much.

One night.

Richie, leaning on his cane alone, once again walked into Blair's home.

The scene inside the house.

Was the same as it had been over a decade ago.

Messy, cluttered.

Piled high with all sorts of odds and ends.

The only difference was the man.

Blair's face was covered in stubble.

Years of long hours hunched over his work had also made his back stooped.

He was clearly no longer that energetic young scholar.

He had grown old too.

But.

In truth, ever since hearing the news that the ants had delivered a divine oracle.

Blair had already returned to his workbench.

Though he had stayed home with his door closed.

He had nonetheless begun planning to build weapons and defenses to resist the sea monsters.

"Clan Leader Richie, look—if we build wooden watchtowers with a wide field of view at intervals along the coast, and when the guards on them spot the monsters, they can use the Wailing Whistle to raise the alarm, then the tribe will know of the sea monster invasion the moment it happens."

Blair gestured with his withered arm over the coastline he had sketched on the table.

"The craftsmen and I also hope to design a bow for the tribesmen—one that doesn't require much strength, so women and the elderly can all use arrows to shoot."

Richie looked at Blair, who had grown considerably thinner, and nodded with relief:

"You've worked hard."

He knew that this scholar had only forced himself to muster his spirits and throw himself back into work for the sake of the tribe's future safety.

But it was still far better than that dejected state from before.

A faint smile appeared on Blair's pale face:

"You flatter me. There's no hardship to speak of. The tribe now faces the invasion of sea monsters, and every tribesman is striving for this cause. Naturally, I can no longer waste time like this."

"Seeing your spirits lifted a little, I'm relieved."

Richie said in a comforting tone.

"Get some good rest. I'll pass your suggestions on to the other elders."

With that, he leaned on his cane, walked to the stone house's doorway, and prepared to leave.

But then he thought it over and stopped.

Richie stood there in the doorway.

For a long time.

Only then did he ask.

"Can you tell me, what exactly is it that has made you so downcast?"

Richie turned around, leaning on his cane as he asked.

He looked at Blair as if a father gazing upon his own child.

A trace of concern showed in his eyes.

He had actually already sensed it.

If it were merely one boat being destroyed.

It couldn't possibly keep this wise craftsman feeling so low for such a long time.

There had to be a deeper reason behind it.

Blair was momentarily startled.

After meeting his gaze, he caught the sincere concern and understanding in the clan leader's eyes.

A hint of gratitude involuntarily surfaced in his own.

Along with shame.

After a long silence.

Blair finally looked at the campfire and opened his heart to speak everything:

"Clan Leader Richie, tell me, how much do we really know about this world?"

"That day, I saw with my own eyes my boat overturned and destroyed by that monster. I was indeed heartbroken."

Blair spoke with a bitter smile in the firelight.

"But what truly made me despair was the appearance of that enormous monster."

"So it turns out that in the ocean, such terrifyingly huge creatures really do exist. With just a casual flip, they can easily tear a boat apart."

"Yet I had previously scoffed at the legends of such monsters."

"Because I thought that if such a monster truly existed, our ancestors could never have sailed a boat to this island."

"Now that I look back, how arrogant and ignorant I was."

The expression on Blair's face turned pained and ashamed.

In the past, after half a lifetime of continuous learning and research, he believed he had climbed to the peak of knowledge.

He also firmly believed.

That he would eventually use his wisdom to build for the tribe the legendary seafaring ships that their ancestors had ridden, as recorded on the hemp paper, and glimpse all the wonders of that mysterious ocean.

Yet now, turning back, the moment he saw reality clearly, he realized that after trudging for half his life, he was still standing at the foot of the world's mountain.

Blocked by such a monster.

A fragile and insignificant dugout canoe could never achieve long-distance sailing.

And in the mysterious ocean.

There must be countless other unfathomable dangers, beyond human knowledge, just like that monster.

But he no longer had time to understand all of this.

He was already old.

This mountain—there was no way he could ever cross it.

Blair sat back down and spoke with a heavy heart.

"The sea, like a mountain of despair, lies across our path."

The stone house suddenly fell silent.

The shadows of the two old men intertwined silently in the firelight.

"Yes, just like a mountain."

Richie leaned on his cane, a rare look of agreement appearing on his face.

There was no trace of comfort in his tone.

It was as if he were echoing Blair's despair.

But more than that, it was a kind of resignation.

"I once thought about going to see the world beyond the island too, but we're both old now."

Richie let out a soft laugh.

But it wasn't a mocking one.

Blair really did remind him of his younger self.

Back then, he too had been troubled by such questions.

But in the end, as the years passed, he had found his own answer.

"Still, we're fortunate, aren't we?" Richie said slowly.

"In this world, many people go to their graves without ever knowing there's a mountain there."

"And we've at least caught sight of it, haven't we?"

Hearing this, Blair was stunned.

In a daze, he lifted his head.

But the old man leaning on his cane had already moved on.

That aged figure simply walked step by step, slowly fading into the distant glow of the firelight.