Shadow Oath

Chapter 43: Hagra Olga (2)

‘This is serious.’

Demion was on guard.

He had realized he was unwittingly being drawn to Olga.

“I saw the Kingdom of Triton’s forces advancing here, assessed the northern tribes’ strength, and witnessed the treacherous acts of other tribes supporting Adian Elhorn as Mantum. It was a situation where defeat was inevitable no matter how you looked at it. That’s why I voiced my opinion: that we would lose.”

Olga explained.

Demion asked.

“Not that we would die?”

“Strictly speaking, I never prophesied Adian’s death. I just said, ‘We’ll lose,’ but people turned my words into ‘We’ll die.’”

“Then wouldn’t it have been better to give advice rather than a prophecy? If it were me, I would have heeded your advice.”

“When a Hagra speaks, it becomes a prophecy. If a mother says, ‘Be careful, or you’ll catch a cold,’ it’s nagging. But if a Hagra says it, it’s a curse. What happens if you really catch a cold the next day? ‘The Hagra cursed me!’”

Her explanation was once again convincing.

‘They say witches control people by saying things they want to hear. I’m falling for it just like that.’

Olga placed flat stones, inscribed with unreadable characters, one by one on the table. With ordinary hand movements, she shuffled and arranged them repeatedly. Then, as if recreating her past divination, she spoke in a serious tone.

“Southern barbarians will overwhelm our forces, while the blessed winds of the ancient northern god will fail to descend against the southern god’s wind. The western sea will no longer feed us, and only the waves of death will fiercely strike us….”

Initially, she spoke with a solemn atmosphere, but she ended her words monotonously.

“Well, something like that.”

“Did you say it like that in front of the Ehodin?”

Charlon asked. She was already speaking the northern dialect naturally.

Olga shook her head.

“As I said earlier, I didn’t say it like that. But people interpret it that way. Well, though Hak Maraka did speak like this.”

“What do you mean by the treacherous acts of other tribes?”

Demion asked.

“They call it a united army of ten tribes… but not all tribes brought their elite forces. Only about five tribes gave their full strength. The others used the Ellum village and Adian Mantum as shields, intending to share the victory if they won, or flee if they lost. Either way, the Ellum tribe would have exhausted all its resources.”

“Why didn’t you tell Mantum about this?”

“Adian is a clever man. He knew it long before I did. Even knowing this, he accepted the position of Mantum. It must have been his warrior’s pride. He couldn’t refuse the title of Mantum, even knowing that after leading the Ellum tribe to exhaust its strength in this war, they would try to dominate this village. For the Gerans, this war was never about united strength from the beginning. That’s why, as soon as Mantum died, they all scattered.”

Jedric let out a low groan.

Olga shuffled the stones again and laid them down in order.

“This applies to you all as well. When I heard today that Maraka spoke his curse before the prince, I immediately understood that he had already lost his role and was choosing suicide through such a method. So I said, ‘He’s found a way to die before taking responsibility.’ Did that sound mystical to you, Your Highness?”

“Hmm, not at all.”

“But if I had feigned ignorance and said nothing, and then when Your Highness asked me about Maraka’s curse, I pretended to interpret these Rune symbols…”

Clattering, Olga shuffled the stones and cleared her throat before continuing.

“Maraka’s curse will summon northern specters carrying curses and plagues, which will flow down to us. A bloodstorm will swirl around the conqueror from the south, dyeing everything red. Behold, the last way to overcome this curse of death is…”

Speaking ominously, Olga then grabbed a random bottle from the nearby shelf and slid it toward the prince.

“…Drink this dried herb extract three times a day after meals. Price: ten gold coins issued by the Kingdom of Triton. Pay up now.”

Charlon and Demion both burst into laughter.

Olga also laughed, raising her hands.

“That’s what magic is. Don’t worry about Hak Maraka’s curse, Your Highness. This sword is fine too. If you’re worried it’s poisoned, heat it in the fire and wipe it with cloth. Or just throw it into the hearth. Fire destroys everything, whether it’s magic or poison.”

Olga directed her gaze at Stuga as if instructing him to carry out the task.

Stuga didn’t respond but seemed to listen intently.

Olga looked back at the three of them and continued.

“Maraka is finished. He’s lost his mystique. For a sorcerer, mystique is everything. His guilt and pride from his previous arrogance will make him collapse on his own.”

Olga’s confident expression reminded Demion of a neighboring bakery lady watching a rival shop go bankrupt.

Demion felt more at ease.

‘She’s someone I like. When I rule this place someday, I should visit often to seek advice. Then, I can enjoy tea in peace.’

Demion spoke.

“Even if you’re right, Maraka’s words remain. The Gerans at the banquet today will go home and tell their families, and their families will tell their neighbors. From now on, the Ellum people will keep recalling the ruin Maraka mentioned for me. What should I do about that?”

“You’ve grasped the essence of prophecies. Once again, I believe Your Highness will make an excellent ruler of this place. Worried about the curse? Use it to your advantage.”

“You’re telling me to believe in magic?”

“You don’t have to believe it to use it.”

Olga picked up a Rune and lightly dropped it onto the ground. With a crisp sound, the stone rolled toward Jedric.

Jedric caught the rolling stone and stood it upright.

“Think of the stone thrown into water. The stone represents the action, and the ripples it causes are the results. You can predict results from actions.”

Olga looked at Demion, as if to confirm he understood.

Demion nodded.

Looking beside him, Charlon was nodding three times over.

“When a person is born, it’s like a stone falling into water, creating ripples. Those ripples reaching the shore are fate. What I read is the ripples touching the shore. But what happens if someone throws another stone into the water amidst the ripples?”

Olga gestured as if tossing a stone, then spread her hands wide over the table.

“Then the ripples change. The moment of destiny I read shifts. If someone tries to manipulate Your Highness with Maraka’s curse, apply this principle exactly.”

“Specifically, how should I do it?”

“Saying, ‘I don’t believe in curses!’ will make people recall instances where curses came true. But if you use that curse to change people’s beliefs, then you’re using the curse.”

“Hmm… Like saying, ‘See? I’m still alive, right? I’m stronger than Maraka’s curse!’?”

“Well, not quite…”

“Hmm…”

Demion groaned again and spoke honestly.

“I still don’t get it.”

“Shall we practice?”

Olga held her hand out to Jedric.

“Could you give me that Rune, Jeje?”

Jedric placed the stone he had just stopped onto the center of the table.

“This is Jeje.”

Olga took out stones one by one from a pouch, placing them next to the first.

“And this stone is Prince Demion, and this one is Lady Charlon. Do you understand?”

All three nodded simultaneously.

“From now on, I will predict the future for the three of you. Then, using what I’ve told you, say something like, ‘Even if the catastrophic waves of fate come crashing down on me, I will overcome them with my will. You will witness me conquering those waves.’ Practice convincing me, and you’ll gain a way to rule the Gerans without being swayed by their superstitions.”

“That’s a good idea.”

Demion agreed.

Charlon, with a delighted expression, pointed to the stone representing her and asked.

“You’ll do it for me too, right, Olga?”

“If the Lady wishes, of course.”

Olga spoke to Charlon with the affection of a grandmother.

“Then I’ll give it a try. It sounds fun.”

Jedric looked a little bored.

“I don’t really want to, Olga.”

Olga scolded him lightly.

“Just do it. Are you going to ruin the mood when the others are so excited?”

“Well…”

Jedric glanced at Charlon and reluctantly nodded after shaking his head a few times.

“Alright.”

Olga rolled a few Rune stones, put some back in the pouch, and took out others to arrange them.

Her movements were neither mystical like the mages of Eldertower who had visited the castle nor bizarre like Hak’s powder-throwing at the banquet.

It was no more than a child’s stone game, closer to play than divination.

Demion recalled when he had disguised himself as a commoner and visited the wandering merchants near the capital.

The place was bustling with festival energy, filled with wandering merchants.

It had been impossible to resist joining in.

That was the first time he encountered a fortune-teller.

A woman in a witch costume, complete with a fake nose made of flour, stroked a crystal ball as she read his future.

According to her prophecy, within a month, Demion would meet his destined love at a mill, make a fortune at a bakery, and suffer a great mishap from a hunting dog.

Of course, none of it came true. She hadn’t even guessed he was a prince.

Hagra Olga’s ‘stone play’ was even less impressive than that crystal ball reading.

It didn’t feature dazzling fireworks like Hak Maraka’s displays or clever illusions like court magicians.

In a word, it felt fake.

When the arrangement of the Rune stones was complete, Olga turned to the three.

“Who wants to go first?”

Charlon raised her hand slightly.

“Me!”

Olga read the ancient symbols as if reciting a book.

“Alright. Three Rune symbols have appeared. The first is a curse. It means you were born with a curse. The next symbol is division. Hmm, it indicates a fate that should have been one has been split into two. Since one became two, one must die for the other to live. The third is the North. You came to the North to survive.”

Charlon’s initial smile gradually faded, her face growing pale.

Olga nonchalantly read the remaining stones in the ancient language before continuing.

“But you won’t be able to stay in the North. You’ll flee south again, only to be killed by your own bloodline in the end.”

“Olga! What are you saying…?”

Jedric shouted angrily, but Demion raised a hand to stop him.

Though he didn’t fully understand, Olga had struck a nerve with Charlon.

Even after the prophecy ended, Charlon couldn’t take her eyes off the stones. Her lips trembled slightly.

It was the moment Demion should have comforted her by holding her hand, but he didn’t.

Suddenly, everything felt terrifying.

A stubborn will not to falter rose within him.

“I promised to listen, so I will. What is my fate?”

Olga nodded and spoke in her usual monotone.

“You were born as the second son, destined to always claim second place. Eventually, you’ll fail to endure the jealousy of the first and flee.”

Demion felt as if his heart sank.

He was indeed the second son.

His elder brother, Ramuel, had everything. Yet Ramuel sought to take even what Demion possessed.

So Demion fled.

To the North.

“You hope to settle in the North, but unable to find the love you desire, you’ll leave the North. Southward, ever southward, and every step you take will stir a bloodstorm. You will never find eternal peace anywhere.”

Unconsciously, Demion looked hurriedly at Charlon.

Charlon was still staring intently at her stone.

When Demion turned back to Olga, she was already reading Jedric’s Rune.

“Oh dear, Jeje. Now I see why you never wanted a prophecy from me. You weren’t meant to receive one. The spirit of the ancient god resides in your body. The god of war, Akamantum, who brought Mantum to the mortal world. The Akamantum we falsely named Mantum, our ruler, who commands us. That’s you. You’re the true ruler meant to unite the Gerans. Jedric Akamantum.”

Olga’s voice was flat.

She seemed amused.

But the three who heard her prophecy were not.

Anger.

Fear.

Confusion…

There wasn’t a single positive emotion.

Smiling, Olga spoke like a teacher posing a riddle to children.

“Now, it’s your turn to speak.”

The room looked the same as when they first entered.

The light hadn’t changed, nor had the smell, nor Olga’s smile.

Yet for the first time since entering the Geran village, Demion felt utterly afraid of everything.

“Remember what I told you to say earlier. Go ahead and try.”

Olga urged them.

No one answered.