By Zephyria =======
The old woman’s speech quickened.
“Hmph, whether it’s Stohl or Atania, men give up faster than women. Moreover, they always choose methods with a high mortality rate and no chance of survival. I estimate that nine out of ten male mutants commit suicide as soon as they realize their identity. That’s why there are no corpses left that are identified as ‘male mutants.’ No one wants to open up a male mutant’s belly more than I do!”
Slamming the table, the old woman gestured with her chin toward the opposite chair.
“Sit. Since you’re here, have a cup of tea.”
“I’m not drinking smelly water. I’m from Stohl.”
Black Weasel sat in the chair. The old woman poured tea from a kettle and placed it in front of him.
“You have something to tell me, don’t you? Before, you’d just leave even if I held onto you and told you to drink tea.”
“Always sharp.”
“That’s because I’m from Atania. Anyway, what is it you want to say?”
“Hmm.”
Black Weasel interlaced his fingers and spoke.
“About the ash tree. Does it really exist?”
“Where did… this come from so suddenly?”
“Yeah, just a sudden thought. It’s probably just a fictional existence that appears in legends, right? Even Grandma drew a line, calling it a hypothesis when she explained the ash tree.”
Black Weasel remembered the hypothesis in question vividly, as if he had just heard it.
‘The reason ash trees are treated as fictional. First, they aren’t conspicuous. Second, trait appraisers claim ash trees don’t exist. My hypothesis: the ash tree has the same basal body temperature as a normal newborn. Since their trait cannot be appraised in the first place, they go unnoticed.’
‘Because parents raise their children without knowing if they are ash trees, the child’s asexual tendencies that emerge during puberty are usually dismissed as personality issues. And the cause of death for ash trees described in legends is presumed to be cerebral hemorrhage or stroke, judging by the prodromal symptoms.’
‘In other words, if an ash tree cannot mate with a spruce tree, they cannot withstand the pressure of their rut and die suddenly in their early twenties. However, in the eyes of others, the ash tree simply appears as a warrior who died young.’
“Yes, I drew a line and called it a hypothesis. But that doesn’t mean we can conclude that ash trees don’t exist. This is the biologically mysterious Stohl, after all.”
The old woman smiled, overlapping her hands.
“The very fact that a single race has been maintained for thousands of years on such a vast continent is absurd. It’s ridiculous that there are almost no dialects. Above all, the most surprising thing is the people of Stohl, who harbor no sense of questioning about any of this. The more you dig, the more the scientific premises that Atanian scholars believed in collapse one by one. However—.”
The old woman leaned her upper body close to Black Weasel.
“You, why are you suddenly asking about the ash tree? Did you spot someone suspicious?”
“Well, it just occurred to me that maybe my young master is actually an ash tree. In all the legends, the ash tree is depicted as a genius of martial arts. If my young master really has that trait, he’ll die suddenly quite early, so I’m getting anxious.”
Black Weasel rambled aimlessly. The face of Wolf, who had been staring blankly at Silver, flickered before his eyes. As well as the sight of Silver acting unusually friendly toward Wolf.
According to legend, an ash tree’s rut is resolved only through a spruce tree. A spruce tree is utterly defenseless against the pheromones of an ash tree. The two instinctively recognize and are drawn to each other even before their traits manifest.
The old woman glared at him.
“That’s the reason? No, no. You’re hiding something from me.”
She was like a ghost. Black Weasel waved his hands nonchalantly.
“There are circumstances I haven’t told Grandma. My mistress gave birth to three sons, and every single one of them was appraised as a spruce tree. When the second child was appraised as a mutant following the first, rumors spread among the tribes. They said the old appraiser woman held a grudge against my mistress and her husband and deliberately gave false appraisals. There were plenty of similar precedents, after all.”
“You suspect that your young master was originally an ash tree, but the appraiser, thinking he was a normal infant, deliberately judged him as a spruce tree…?”
“That’s it. Exactly.”
“That old appraiser woman was truly vicious. But in my opinion, it’s more likely that the old woman spoke honestly about your young master’s trait. People can endure something twice, but they usually explode when it happens a third time. Wouldn’t the old woman have played it safe? And yet, the third child was actually a mutant.”
The old woman’s estimation matched the facts. What had the appraiser woman said at the final moment?
‘Believe me! This time it’s for real! It’s not a lie! That child is a monster!’
“Anyway, it’s a strange coincidence.”
The old woman picked up a book from the desk and flipped through the pages.
“Actually, just last night, while I was skimming through materials on ash tree legends, I happened to find something. Coincidentally, you’re asking about ash trees today?”
“…What?”
Black Weasel looked up. The old woman snapped the book shut and met the assassin’s eyes.
“There is one physical description that appears without fail in every legend related to ash trees. ‘Flawless, clear skin’.”
“Flawless, clear… skin? Skin?”
Black Weasel paused as he repeated the old woman’s words. His mind suddenly cleared.
Wolf’s body, which had surprised Black Weasel and Silver at the hot spring. That body was, very uniquely for a Stohl person…
That bastard! He really was an ash tree!
“I see you’ve understood what I mean.”
The old woman smirked.
“Your young master is absolutely not an ash tree. That should lighten your heart, right? By the way, now that I’ve heard the story, I’m curious… did that appraiser woman die a peaceful death?”
“No.”
“I asked a stupid question. Well, anything else you’re curious about?”
“Nothing. I’m leaving.”
Black Weasel slammed the door shut and stepped into the hallway. Children were playing in the garden outside the window. A middle-aged woman walking toward him carrying a large basket of bread smiled at Black Weasel. She was a nanny and Director Erem’s first assistant, whom Black Weasel had become familiar with through his frequent visits to the orphanage.
Director Dian Erem of the orphanage is an Atanian medical scholar who has devoted 30 years to the study of human mutants. Erem is also the developer of
Black Weasel walked, suppressing his excitement. Ash tree.
‘According to one legend, a spruce tree that drinks the blood of an ash tree will have their rut disappear thereafter.’
At some point, Director Erem had said so.
‘However, it doesn’t disappear completely; a strong reactivity remains toward the individual who provided the blood. Though that’s only when they are close to each other. In the legends, it says that after their partner died in war, the spruce tree spent the rest of their life normally.’
‘In Atania, folk remedies where the blood of a healthy youth is fed to a frail elderly person are secretly prevalent. Surprisingly, there are many clinical testimonies that such foolish, superstitious remedies are quite effective. Ash trees and spruce trees are polar opposites, aren’t they? Like a frail elderly person and a healthy youth.’
‘By the same logic, your young master’s problem can be solved if we just find an ash tree. Not much blood is needed. In the legends, it only says the spruce tree sucked a little blood that flowed from the ash tree’s injured finger. At most, a teaspoon’s worth?’
‘Since it’s a legend, the exact dosage might differ. In an extreme case, a whole bathtub full might be required.’
A deep smile formed on Black Weasel’s lips. Haha!
That arrogant attendant, that idiot who wags his tail whenever he sees Silver, was actually the one and only antidote.
Wolf! I’m glad I didn’t kill you!
* * *
Silver, who had gone hunting, returned only after the sun had set. That evening, the boys greedily tore into roasted fox, leaving not a single piece of meat. To Wolf’s question about why he was so late, Silver replied that the area was entirely rocky cliffs and it took quite a while to reach the forest where animals roam. As a result, he had secured plenty of time to practice climbing the cave walls.
The next day. While Silver was away hunting, Wolf gave a request to Red Eagle.
“Prince. I’m not sure yet what kind of guy Silver is, but anyone who whines all the time is unconditionally ostracized among boys. So, let’s make sure we don’t wear expressions like sick old men trembling in fear of dying tomorrow. Let’s just play childish pranks like we always do.”
“You want us to lure Silver into approaching us? Fine, I’ll try.”
23 – Hell Execution Order