"Before the war, the number of newborns with each crest was always equal across the five nations," the old man, Idel, said.
Caelen frowned again. "How is that possible?"
"That's another topic. For now, just listen. No matter how many children were born each year, the number of crests was always evenly distributed.
And that's not even the most important part. Do you know why it's impossible for the other crest-bearers to have gone extinct?"
Caelen looked at him, waiting for an answer.
"Because the crests were random. Two barbarian parents could still have a child born with a different crest."
"There's no way that's true!" Caelen snapped.
"Huh? Why are you so sure? Are you certain your parents are your real parents?"
Caelen froze, like a bucket of cold water had just been dumped on him.
"I—..."
"I see. So, you already know. Did your parents tell you? It doesn't matter.
Kid, this is the truth. Even though the balance has been broken, that part hasn't changed.
So... what do you think is happening to the children born in Barbara with different crests right now?"
Caelen's face fell.
If crests are random... then why have I never seen a single child without the Crest of War?
The answer was obvious. But Idel didn't wait for him to say it.
"The barbarians kill all the others."
"Shut up! No matter what, my family wouldn't kill babies!"
"Ah—sorry. I didn't mean your family specifically. Let me finish the story."
Caelen hesitated, then nodded. He had to hear the rest.
"Back when the balance held, the children were... let's say exchanged.
It wasn't done out of cruelty. It was just impossible for a child with the Crest of War to grow up safely among magi. Well, the other children wouldn't be safe.
So each child was sent to the nation of their crest, placed with foster families, and raised according to their path.
Everyone knew this. Everyone accepted it. Even though it was painful to give up their own children..."
Idel's eyes drifted. His voice softened, almost bitter.
Did that happen to him, too? Caelen wondered. Maybe his parents were from another nation. Or maybe... his children were sent away.
"Anyway. That balance kept the peace. During those years, the magi were the strongest.
Unlike barbarians, they were intelligent. And when everything else was equal, knowledge always beat brute strength.
But Elarith, the nation of magi, never fought. They knew war only brought pain, even to the victors.
Besides, if the other four nations ever allied against them, Elarith would be wiped out.
That was why peace lasted as long as it did. But then, the balance broke.
One year, 60% of the newborns had the Crest of War, and the others only made up 10% each.
Of course, no one blamed the children. The exchange continued.
But after five years of this skewed birth rate, the barbarians started a war.
Even if they lost people now, their children would grow up to outnumber the others combined.
And before the other nations realized what was happening, the barbarians made sure they couldn't form an alliance."
He paused.
"Do you know how they managed that, even without strong tactics? Barbarians don't create strategies. They just fight."
"They used magi..." Caelen murmured, barely audible.
"Not just magi. They enslaved people from every other nation—especially those with the Crest of Light."
"Crest of Light? What's that?"
"Sigh... They didn't even teach you the crests. Barbarians only know how to fight. The Crest of Light grants holy power.
Its bearers are healers. And barbarians needed them the most... because they have to be injured to fight."
That line hit Caelen so hard he didn't even question what "have to be injured" meant. He was busy thinking about the word "healer."
"Healers... There are healers in barbarian cities."
"Exactly. They're barbarians' slaves," Idel said grimly.
"But... why?"
"Why?" Idel echoed. "You mean why the barbarians enslaved others and started a war? Because barbarians don't think. They just do."
---
After hearing the history of the five nations, Caelen needed time to process everything he'd learned.
Since Idel also needed to rest, they stopped there for the day.
At first, Caelen hadn't wanted to believe any of it—but everything Idel said made too much sense.
His parents weren't his birth parents.
But that doesn't mean my real parents weren't barbarians.
It wasn't solid proof. He needed to look deeper, to find more answers.
First of all, there was a bigger issue. Why would barbarians allow their own children to be killed?
If two barbarian parents had a child with a different crest, who could possibly kill that child without a fight?
Then, Caelen remembered something. As a kid, he'd heard rumors from his friends—stories of families that had disappeared.
The rumors always found their way to the children, and they were scared. But as they got older, they stopped thinking about it. They assumed those families had just moved away.
Had they actually been killed?
The war had started about fifty years ago, and its peak had been twenty years back.
So Caelen needed someone old enough to remember.
And now, he was heading to the only place where he might find the answers he needed.
---
Knock
Knock
Knock
...
Knock
Knock
Knock
It was nearly time to sleep when the old barbarian heard a knock at his door.
The knocking was impatient, loud, and firm, which made him wonder who could be calling at this hour.
Slowly, he walked to the door. By the time he reached it, he already knew who was outside.
Still, Illgorn opened the door cautiously and put on a surprised face when he saw the group of barbarian warriors standing outside.
"Sirs, how can I help you?" he asked.
"You're Chief Illgorn, right?" the barbarian warrior who knocked on the door asked. He was probably the highest-ranking one in the group.
There were seven in total, and each of them looked strong. They stood at the same height as Illgorn himself.
"Yes, I'm Illgorn," he said. "But I've retired. I'm no chief anymore."
"Salute!" the same warrior barked. Despite Illgorn's claim of retirement, he was once a great warrior—almost no one in the military hadn't heard his name.
"Chief Illgorn, we're sorry to disturb you this late, but a magus has escaped. We believe he might be hiding in this village."
Illgorn frowned. "Escaped? You mean one of the slaves?"
"No, sir. He came from the outside. But it seems he was looking for top-secret information. We were ordered to kill him and retrieve it. But, he escaped using his crest."
"I see," Illgorn said. "So, what do you need from me?"
"Apologies, sir. We came because you're the highest authority in the area. Have you seen anyone suspicious lately?"
Just as the warrior finished his question, a voice came from behind them.