It was a satisfying plan, and Cale even knew of an Ancient Power that could strengthen lesser superpowers. The first step toward his goal was to find the Ancient Power hidden in Weston. He remembered just how to get it.
To that end, he made his way to a bakery.
“Oh, L-Lord Cale! Welcome.”
Cale just nodded at the baker, who bowed so low it looked like his head might touch the ground. The man gasped, but Cale pretended not to hear it. He felt a bit guilty about how violently the baker was trembling because of him—the lout.
He went ahead and made his order. “Give me some bread.”
“Excuse me?”
Cale pointed at the loaves on display. “Everything from here to there.”
He dropped a gold coin on the counter. Clink! It spun in place.
“And pack it all up,” he added, though the baker was frozen stiff. “Two or three more gold coins should cover a week’s worth of bread, right?”
The baker’s eyes—which had been fixed on the coin, far too much money for the bread—moved to Cale.
“If you can’t do it, I can go somewhere else,” Cale said bluntly.
“N-no, it’s nothing like that, my lord!” the flabbergasted baker cried. “I’ll pack everything up in no time!” Now servile for a different reason than before, he moved with great haste.
After the bread was wrapped up, Cale heaved the sack of loaves over his shoulder. It was just bread, but it was still quite heavy; the weight made Cale scowl. Ignoring the baker, who had escorted him out of the shop, he stepped out onto the street.
As Cale strolled along, he noticed that anyone who locked eyes with him flinched and turned away. In fact, most passersby scurried into nooks and crannies to avoid doing so.
It really is different from Korea. This is a bona fide fantasy world.
Cale took in his surroundings as he walked through the market, which had a typical fantasy feel. Anytime he looked a merchant in the eye, they would wince, grunt, and avert their gaze.
Tsk, tsk. Cale really must’ve been a trash human being.
Cursing the character, he left the market behind. He had reached the western part of town, where the slums were. However wealthy a territory might be, it went without saying that there would be paupers. In Cale’s shoes, most people would probably think something along the lines of, Ah, sharing food with the poor could lead to a fateful encounter!
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.
Cale felt eyes on him as soon as he entered the slums—where some of the most indolent and the most cutthroat people lived in one place. The poor might not know the face of their liege lord, but oh, they knew Cale. That was vital, since Cale wreaked havoc everywhere he went, be it market, pub, or plaza.
“Tch.”
Although they were aware of how loutish Cale was, they couldn’t help watching him. Or perhaps they couldn’t resist the savory aroma of the fresh bread he carried. Cale endured the gazes and quickened his pace, his expensive leather shoes sullied with each splash in dirty puddles. A strange stench hung around him, prompting him to scrunch his nose and walk even faster.
The slums’ dilapidated houses were crowded together on one side of a small hill. Cale climbed toward the hilltop. The closer he got, the fewer people watched or pursued him. His sharp glare had also probably played a role in that.
It’s better up here.
Cale stood atop the hill and gazed down at Weston, happy to be free of the stench. Interestingly, even the hill seemed to be on lower ground than the count’s estate. Well, there was no way the liege lord would be at a lower elevation than the slums.
He stopped his idle musings and walked over to a tree that was completely walled off. The circular wall was made of waist-high stones, with a wooden gate serving as the entrance. When Cale gave it a push, the old wood practically splintered at his touch.
The large tree inside looked to be several centuries old. In the slums, people usually chopped trees for firewood or peeled their bark off, killing them. But they’d treated this tree differently. The reason for that was simple, and Cale was about to be reminded of it. Of all the eyes that had followed him through the slums, two pairs remained even now.
“D-don’t go near that tree!” one of the onlookers shouted—a girl, by the sound of it. Cale ignored her warning, but she cried out again. “You can’t go in there! That’s a man-eating tree!”
Word had it that anyone who hung themselves on the man-eating tree would rot overnight, and any blood that landed on the trunk instantly disappeared. Around the tree, there was only dirt—no grass or wildflowers in sight.
This was the tree Cale had been looking for.
In ancient times, there had been a glutton who loved food so much that she was branded a “meaty goddess” and expelled from her place of worship. Afterward, she starved to death. This tree was said to have grown atop the meaty goddess’s corpse, and her grudges and strength were now embedded in it. Yes, this was the same woman who had created the Unbreakable Shield.
Carefully taking a loaf of bread out of his bag, Cale studied the head-sized hole at the base of the tree. He found it primitive and strange all at once. And to think this was just one of many mysterious Ancient Powers!
Before starting his task, he’d need to send away the girl who’d warned him—but he couldn’t get a word in edgewise.
“You’re going to die! Don’t do it!” She was even louder this time, her voice noticeably shaking. Perhaps it was because she could no longer see Cale from outside the fence now that he’d crouched down.
Cale pressed his fingers to his forehead, sighing. This girl had stubbornly followed him to the tree even after the other citizens fell away.
There are nosy punks no matter where I go.
He glared behind him and saw a girl about ten years old. She gripped her younger brother’s hand and watched Cale with anxiety.
Seeing him scowl, the young girl stumbled on her next words. “It’s a man-eating tree. Y-you’re going to die.”
“No, I won’t.”
Taking two loaves of bread out of his bag, he threw them toward the little girl. It didn’t matter if they rolled on the ground; the baker had wrapped each loaf.
“Take those and get lost.”
The boy instantly grabbed the bread, but the girl continued to mumble in protest. Assessing her stubborn behavior, Cale decided to make use of his most reliable trait. He stood and thrust his head beyond the wall.
“Do you two know about Cale the lout?”
The girl’s face paled, and her brother stared blankly at Cale. He picked up the second loaf for his sister and tugged her arm. “C’mon, Sis.”
“Yeah, okay.” As her brother pulled her away, the girl glanced back at Cale and the tree. “I just didn’t want you to die,” she insisted.
Cale clicked his tongue at her again. Once he confirmed he was alone on the hill, he sat underneath the tree. No one outside the enclosure would see what he was doing unless they came right up to the wall.
“Now, let’s get started.”
He removed a loaf from its wrapper, then stuck it into the hole at the base of the tree. The loaf dissipated in the darkness, and a cold sensation crept into his fingers. Fearing his whole hand might be sucked in, he yanked it back. The darkness was unchanged.
“If someone died bearing a grudge, I should help resolve it.”
This man-eating tree wasn’t actually a man-eating tree. It would eat anything, a side effect of the only power left behind by the glutton who’d starved to death. This was comical for an Ancient Power but believable; it was part of the world’s folklore.
I remember you need to feed it until the darkness disappears.
The darkness in the hole beneath the tree wasn’t shade or shadow. It was a miasma produced by the woman’s resentment. You couldn’t feed the tree with help from other people; a single person had to provide a continual feast until the darkness vanished. At that point, it was said that a light hidden beneath the tree would appear.
Once Cale consumed that light, he could lay claim to the Unbreakable Shield.
“Eat up.”
Placing the mouth of his bag into the hole, he emptied out all the bread. The loaves should’ve filled the small recess, but when Cale pulled the bag away, only darkness remained. Still, it was a tad bit lighter than before.
“I think I’ll need about ten more bags.”
Ten bags. Only someone like Cale—who’d received three million galleons as his allowance—could casually say such a thing.
An odd rumbling noise resonated from the tree, as though it were groaning in hunger. For a split second, Cale felt like the darkness might reach out and grab him. He shot to his feet.
“Oof, that’s kind of scary.” He wasn’t keen on sticking around for long. “Just how resentful were you, to linger like this?”
Gluttony is terrifying.
“I’ll come back tomorrow.”
Bidding the rumbling tree goodbye as if it were a person, Cale exited the enclosure. When he reached the slums, he spotted the siblings eating their bread. Despite the girl’s earlier agitation, she was savoring her food with relish. Her brother seemed very happy as well; perhaps the loaves were tasty.
Cale snorted at the sight, pointedly ignoring them when they looked his way. They weren’t peering at him but at the empty sack. They were probably curious, but they couldn’t do anything about it. After all, these children were too scared to go near that man-eating tree. Are they really, though?
He thought it best to be on the safe side. If they went up to the tree, stuck their heads into the hole, and got eaten, it would be terrible—for them, obviously. Not Cale.
The children of the slums had no fear; they felt more strongly about a single grain of rice than a blade coming their way. Since death surrounded them, they dreaded hunger even more so.
That was written in Birth of a Hero, Cale recalled. He relented and told the children, “If you want to eat more bread tomorrow, don’t say a thing.”
They obeyed, not uttering a word. The girl who’d dithered earlier clapped a hand over her brother’s mouth, pretending to not see Cale. Bright girl, Cale reflected, a smile spreading across his face as he speed-walked out of the slums.
The paupers who’d seen Cale climb the hill watched him go, wondering what crazy thing he was up to now. For his part, Cale actually enjoyed their inquisitive gazes. The people outside the slums shot him odd looks as well, and their gazes didn’t bother him either.