As Godfrey spoke in what he considered a quiet voice, the air instantly fell silent, and Marika cast a curious look their way.
Rellana only caught the words "your wife," and her mind buzzed, as though countless glintstone comets had exploded inside it. Her cheeks flushed visibly crimson, steam all but rising from her head. She stood frozen in place, utterly unable to react, and even forgot to protest.
Horace was also caught off guard by his brother's sudden bluntness. A vein twitched at his temple as he helplessly explained on behalf of the petrified Rellana:
"Brother! Don't say things like that! This is Her Highness Rellana, the second princess of the Kingdom of Caria and the deputy envoy on this mission. She... she's a very capable fighter."
Toward the end, recalling Rellana's Twin Moons and her exquisite swordsmanship, Horace unconsciously spoke with a touch of affirmation.
At that, Godfrey took another careful look at Rellana's slender frame and her still-red, dazed face, skepticism written all over his own. But seeing how protective his brother seemed of her, he said nothing more, merely muttering, "Good, as long as she can fight... how else would she survive in the Lands Between?"
Marika, however, watched Rellana with interest, then looked at Horace. Her lips curved into a gentle smile, but she said nothing.
Just then, the miserable Beast King Serosh finally raised his head from the piles of paperwork, his voice hoarse with fatigue. "King, Queen, and our guests... could we please attend to business first? These border patrol reports and the allocation of seeds for spring planting..."
"Ah! Right!" As though suddenly reminded, Marika clapped her hands and turned to Horace, her gaze growing serious.
"Horace, there's something I need your help with."
She waved Serosh back to his struggle with the paperwork and pulled Horace aside, a hint of earnest pleading in her voice. "Can you... still heal the shamans persecuted by the Hornsent, like you did before?"
Horace froze.
Marika continued, "We've rescued so many... so many shamans. They're in terrible condition. Injuries from the melding, mental trauma... ordinary incantations and herbs have limited effects. I've tried easing their suffering with the Erdtree's basic Law, but... it isn't enough. I remember you had a special method..."
She looked at Horace, her eyes holding nothing but a plea. "There are around ten thousand or more... all we're missing is you."
Ten thousand or more... Looking into Marika's eyes, which still held a trace of that "crystal-clear stupidity," Horace almost saw the "village girl" who had once told him to figure something out.
After all these years, after becoming a god and the Eternal Queen, some parts of her truly had not changed at all.
He sighed helplessly. "...I'll do my best."
Beside them, Rellana finally recovered a little from the shock of being called his "wife," just in time to see Marika looking at Horace with those small-animal eyes, while Horace actually... gave in?
She blinked, as though she had learned some incredible trick. That sort of look... worked?
In the days that followed, Horace became caught up in work.
Treating over ten thousand shamans was an enormous undertaking, even with his relatively mature method and the assistance of the Great Runes System.
He requisitioned a relatively isolated camp outside Leyndell, erected layer upon layer of Great Runes barriers to block prying eyes, and began treating them in batches.
The process was similar to what he had done in the Land of Shadow, but on a larger scale.
Through his connection to the Formless Mother, he channeled that power which craved wounds and blood, stripping away the inhuman melded portions of the shamans' bodies within a carefully controlled framework of Great Runes and stimulating their own vitality to restore them.
As for the expendable life batteries required... Marika simply tossed him a great horde of hands, and the Two Fingers had no objection whatsoever.
Every large-scale ritual brought rising blood mist and the Formless Mother's delighted gaze, while also consuming a tremendous amount of Horace's energy, seemingly deepening the dark red at his temples another shade.
This time, Rellana did not stay away. She volunteered to help.
As deputy envoy and princess, she helped coordinate supplies and maintain order, and also soothed the emotionally unstable shamans.
Horace also discovered that when Rellana was beside him, the whispers that tried to tempt him into surrendering to the ecstasy of blood grew somewhat weaker.
Was it because of the power of the "moon"?
The treatment continued for nearly a month.
When the last batch of shamans was out of danger, their bodies still weak and in need of long-term recuperation but at least restored to basic human form and clear consciousness, Marika came to visit in person, tears glistening in her eyes as she thanked Horace over and over.
Yet when Horace said that these shamans could not remain in the Golden Dynasty, Marika froze.
"Why? They're safe here. The Erdtree will protect them..." Marika did not understand.
Horace could not explain Radagon's future appearance or the Golden Order's turn toward extremism.
He could only find other reasons. "Their bodies were treated with my method, and some... unique traces of power remain. That power may not be entirely compatible with the Erdtree's Grace. Staying in an environment with such a high concentration of Grace for a long time might hinder their recovery. Besides, they've suffered so much. Perhaps a completely new environment would be better for healing their minds."
He paused and looked at Marika. "Caria's Liurnia Lake Region has a relatively mild environment, and its atmosphere of True Magic research is more accepting. I can arrange for them to settle there, learn some skills, and start new lives."
Marika tilted her head and thought it over seriously.
"You're worried... the Golden Order will reject them?"
Horace glanced at Marika. This village girl was actually using her brain.
"...All right." Marika nodded.
"Make the arrangements as you see fit. As long as they can be well."
She had agreed so easily to let over ten thousand individuals who might carry the influence of some outer god's power leave... Looking at Marika's openly trusting eyes, Horace once again facepalmed inwardly.
With such a "naive" queen and a king whose head was mostly muscle, with the little remaining space devoted to fighting... could this Golden Dynasty really last?
I'm thinking.
How can I have the protagonist stay young naturally?
Rellana is descended from the Numen, so she has a long lifespan and won't grow old, but someone like Godfrey is mortal, and his face will age.
Sealing the Rune of Death only stops people from dying, while they keep aging.
Like those wandering nobles, whose bodies have aged beyond recognition and who have even gone mad, yet still cannot die.
The unluckier ones get eaten, shat out, and turned into a pile of foul sludge... yet remain "alive."
And the story spans thousands of years, so what should I do?
Before you continue