Inside the grand royal court the next morning, Jawara listened intently to his ministers, each expressing their thoughts on how to improve the economy and alleviate the people's suffering. He looked at them, appreciating their earnest ideas, but his mind was a turbulent storm. The only thing he could truly focus on was the immense, seemingly impossible task: how on earth would he secure the aid of a powerful mage, retrieve the white dragon tail, clear the negative energy from his blighted land, and prevent his entire kingdom from perishing?
Jawara knew that without solving this paramount problem, there was no reason to continue improving the economy. The more he wrestled with the dilemma, the more intense his headache became, a dull throb behind his eyes.
"What does Your Highness think of the idea?" a minister asked, pulling Jawara abruptly from his troubled thoughts.
Jawara hadn't paid a shred of attention to the minister's detailed solution. He looked at the person standing a few feet below him, a strained smile on his face. "Please write down your thoughts in detail and send them to me. I will make a decision after reading the details."
The minister bowed, a hint of confusion in his expression, and said, "Your Highness, I will definitely finish it and deliver it within three days."
"That's fine," Jawara said, his gaze sweeping over the assembled ministers, a hint of impatience in his voice. "Does anyone else have anything to discuss?"
Kazan stepped forward, his expression grim. "Your Highness, our kingdom will perish within twenty years, which means that everything beyond the River of Sorrows toward the north will be destroyed. Last night, I was thinking about moving our people, opening our borders, and slowly letting them leave."
Jawara looked at Kazan, a fresh wave of despair washing over him. While he abhorred the idea of abandoning his kingdom, it was, for now, the most pragmatic solution. "We don't even know what lies beyond these bases," he said with a heavy heart, his voice tinged with anguish. "How can we believe that there is civilization waiting for us on the other side of that river? From the very beginning, the scouts we sent out never returned to report to us."
Kazan held Jawara's gaze, his own resolute. "I think this is the best contingency plan, if no sorcerer appears or if our initial plan fails."
Jawara sighed, rubbing his temples. "Well, since this is your contingency plan, I'll leave it to you, General."
Kazan bowed deeply. "I will not let you down, Your Highness."
As the morning session concluded, a royal guard approached the courtroom and knelt in front of Jawara, panting from his rush. Jawara, his eyes wide with anxious expectation, quickly asked, "What was the result?"
The guard's head remained bowed. "Your Highness, no mage came forward."
Jawara scowled, his frustration boiling over. He slammed his hand on the armrest of his throne, the sound echoing through the suddenly silent hall. "No mage? Does this mean all the mages are dead? Or is it because our offer wasn't good enough?" He looked at Kazan, a deep sigh escaping him. "General, execute your plan immediately..."
"I'll make a plan right away, Your Highness," Kazan replied, his voice firm.
Jawara slumped back, his mind racing. He had made it so clear that he would not jail or punish anyone who came forward, yet his words seemed utterly powerless. "Two months," he muttered impatiently, his voice filled with bitter disappointment. "Two months, and nothing has changed."
U-ri, seeing the look of utter defeat on Jawara's face, stepped forward, his voice gentle. "Your Majesty, please be patient. Maybe the time is not yet ripe. I believe there will be someone willing to stand up and help our kingdom."
Many ministers in the imperial court murmured their agreement with U-ri, their voices a chorus of comfort.
Seeing his beloved ministers speak such words of reassurance, Jawara felt a warmth spread through his chest, a mix of happiness and profound relief. Although his kingdom was on the brink of perishing, everyone still supported him and refused to give up. He shouldn't give up either.
With a truly relieved sigh, Jawara stood, a genuine smile gracing his features for the first time that morning. "I'm so sorry for worrying everyone," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I want you to know that I am so grateful for your deepest sympathy and unwavering support. It makes me very happy seeing everyone wishing me peace, comfort, courage, and lots of love at this time of sorrow. My heart goes out to you at this difficult time. Thank you for your full support in every moment." He looked down at his beloved ministers, his gaze sweeping over their faces. "U-ri, what about the preparations?"
U-ri's eyes brightened. "Your Highness, everything is ready. We can set off as soon as the mage appears."
Jawara's smile faded slightly, a faint line of worry returning between his brows as he sank back into his chair. "I wonder if anyone will be willing to step forward." He gestured vaguely. "Is there anything else we need to hear? Otherwise, you may be dismissed."
Just as the ministers were bidding their farewells to Jawara, a guard burst through the main entrance, his voice echoing, "My King…My King…!" The guard stumbled to a halt and knelt breathlessly in front of Jawara. "My King, the mage has appeared!"
Jawara shot up from his chair, his heart leaping into his throat. He thought he had misheard the guard. His voice trembled with a mixture of disbelief and surging excitement. "What? What did you just say?"
The guard panted heavily, a wide, triumphant grin stretching across his face. "The mage has appeared, Your Highness! As we speak, she is entering the palace!"
Jawara stepped awkwardly from his throne, nearly stumbling in his haste. His voice, though still trembling, was firm. "Bring her in right away!" He turned to U-ri, his eyes shining. "Prepare a chair for the mage!"
Jawara and his councilors waited in tense, expectant silence for the mage's arrival, no one daring to speak above a whisper. In the distance, they heard the soft, melodic jingling of bells, growing steadily louder. Then, the mage entered the meeting hall, escorted by ten royal guards. U-ri, his face beaming, approached the mage, gently took her hand, and guided her to the prepared chair, placed respectfully a few steps below the throne.
The people in the court chamber stared, their eyes fixed on the figure in black. A long, dark drape covered the bamboo hat, completely obscuring the mage's face from the curious gazes of the ministers and guards.
Jawara looked down at the shrouded figure, his heart thrumming with hope. He asked, his voice joyful, "May I know your name?"
A raspy cough emanated from beneath the hat, and a voice, distinctly that of an older woman, replied, "Hajime." Another cough followed, sounding almost theatrical.
Jawara, undeterred, asked, "Mage Hajime, are you willing to help us?"
"Yes," Hajime stated simply, "that's why I came forward."
A collective sigh of relief rippled through everyone in the court chamber, a wave of tension visibly breaking.
"Don't be too happy, everyone," Hajime said, the dry tone of the old woman's voice making everyone's eyes snap back to him. "King Jawara, I don't need much for this trip, but I have one request."
Jawara's smile faltered, but he quickly regained his composure. "Please speak freely, Mage Hajime. Whatever you desire, I will try my best to meet your request."
"Well..." Hajime said, a peculiar pause in his voice. "I want to get married before embarking on this unknown journey."
Jawara blinked, taken aback. "I have fourteen princes, Mage Hajime. Six of the fourteen are here in this hall."
Hajime stood, the black robes swirling around him "I don't want anyone else," his voice clear and firm, "except the people in this room."
Jawara's gaze swept over the gathered assembly. "We have thirty-seven people here right now, including myself."
"I want to marry a man who is no older than forty or no younger than sixteen," Hajime declared.
Jawara stood, gesturing to the assembled men. "Anyone who is not in that age group, please step to the right." Jawara then looked at his six sons and the other young men of high status. "Are you willing to marry Mage Hajime?"
Despite the unusual request, every eligible man replied in unison, their voices echoing with a sense of duty, "We are willing to marry Mage Hajime!"
Jawara, relieved but still puzzled, said, "Mage Hajime, since everyone is willing to marry you, let's choose one."
A long, drawn-out sigh escaped Hajime. "Alright." With a dramatic flourish, Hajime slowly lifted the bamboo hat. Everyone in the courtroom gasped in collective shock. Standing before them was not an young woman, but an old woman with striking silver-white hair, a faint, mocking smile on her lips. "Now, everyone has seen my face," Hajime said, his voice still disguised as that of an old woman, though now with a hint of cruel amusement. "Who wants to marry me?" He stared pointedly at the twenty young men, his silver eyes glinting.
Jawara's voice trembled, a mixture of shock and renewed desperation. "Everyone has seen the face of the great Mage Hajime now. Is anyone willing to marry her now?" There was a long, suffocating silence inside the courtroom. Not a single person moved. "Anyone…?" Jawara pleaded, his voice thin.
Hajime, his smile widening, slowly put his hat back on. "King Jawara, I don't think I will go on this journey. My request has not been fulfilled. Maybe another mage can take over the job." He turned to leave.
"I will marry you!" Yul's voice, clear and strong, cut through the stunned silence, rising from behind a prince.
Kazan whirled, grabbing Yul's arm with a desperate grip. "Yul…!" he hissed, his eyes wide with frantic worry.
Yul patted Kazan's hand lightly, a silent reassurance, and then walked directly to Hajime. He knelt before Jawara. "Your Highness, I am willing to marry Mage Hajime," he declared, his gaze unwavering.
Hajime turned to Yul, his silver eyes narrowed, his voice still a dry, aged rasp. "Aren't you afraid that others will make fun of you for marrying me?"
Yul looked up, his expression calm and resolute. "If it is the royal order, no one would dare to laugh at us."
"That's correct," Jawara affirmed quickly, his voice firm.
Hajime's expression softened imperceptibly, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "Okay, let's get married tonight, and we can leave tomorrow."
Kazan stepped forward, his voice strained with worry. "Why don't we talk about it after the completion of the journey?"
Hajime scoffed, a dry, humorless sound. "I'm so old, the journey is unknown, and there is no return date. What if I die on the journey? I will become a wandering soul. I don't want that."
"Father..." Yul began, his voice a soft warning.
Kazan ignored him, his anxieties bubbling over. "But she is old…She can't bear children!" The words burst out, unbidden.
Hajime's indifference vanished. His silver eyes flashed, and his voice, though still raspy, turned cold as ice. "Even if I were young and beautiful, I cannot conceive." He stared at Kazan with an intense, chilling glare that silenced the general. He then turned his cold gaze to Jawara. "Since everyone is still not sure, then come to me when you are ready." Hajime proceeded to walk towards the exit, his robes swishing.
"You can't go!" Yul surged forward, grabbing Hajime's left wrist, his grip surprisingly strong.
Hajime pulled his hand away with a jerky, frantic motion, his face contorted with anger. "I do whatever I want! I came here voluntarily, and I will leave voluntarily! No one can stop me! Don't forget, I am a mage!" he snarled.
"It's precisely because you're a mage that you can't leave," Yul countered, his voice firm and unwavering. He looked at Hajime's now-wrinkled face, ignoring the sharp anger in his eyes. Without a word, he added, "Kneel."
"What?" Hajime scoffed, a sound of disbelief.
With a swift, decisive move, Yul kicked the back of Hajime's left knee, sending the mage sprawling to his knees on the ground. Hajime murmured frantically, "How dare you kick this powerful mage…?" His voice was filled with outrage, though he remained on his knees.
Yul knelt beside Hajime, gripping his left wrist firmly. He looked up at Jawara, his voice ringing with conviction. "Your Majesty, please declare us husband and wife."
Jawara knew he had to do everything in his power to keep the mage from leaving. He hastily stood, his voice filled with urgency, "Bow to Heaven!"
Hajime looked at Yul, a flicker of surprise and something akin to respect in his silver eyes. "Are you sure… young man?"
Yul didn't answer. He simply bowed once, deeply, toward the heavens.
Abrafo, who was standing not far away, walked up to Hajime, a stern look on his face, but a sneer playing on his lips. "Mage Hajime, he already bowed. Why don't you bow too?" He snickered. "If you dare to lie to us, I will be the first to cut off your head."
Jawara, his heart pounding, quickly interjected, "The second bow is to the elders!"
Yul and Hajime turned to Kazan, who stood frozen in shock, and bowed together.
Jawara's voice was heavy with emotion, but he pushed the words out. "The third is…" He hesitated, a lump forming in his throat. "Third is…is…to each other."
After the two bowed to each other, Yul helped Hajime to his feet. He looked at Hajime, his expression earnest. "From now on, we are husband and wife. We will take this journey together. I can't give you a decent wedding right now, but if we survive, I promise I will give you a grand, decent wedding. Can you accept the title of a wife for now?"
Hajime sneered, a flicker of genuine embarrassment crossing his face. "Ah…I guess so," he mumbled, looking away.
Jawara, seizing the moment, declared, "Mage Hajime, when everyone returns, I will personally give you a grand royal wedding!"
Hajime laughed, a sound that was surprisingly light given his previous demeanor. "Let's talk about it when we return," he said, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
Jawara, relieved, asked, "When are you leaving?"
"We're leaving tomorrow," Hajime said, turning to Yul, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Walk me back to your house, my back hurts." He stopped after taking ten steps, turning back to Yul. "My dear, you are a young and strong man. Why don't you carry me home?"
When Yul walked in front of Hajime and offered his back, the young men in the meeting hall exchanged ugly, sympathetic glances. Hajime, his silver eyes sparkling with delight, happily climbed onto Yul's back, and the newlyweds, an utterly bizarre pair, walked out of the court chamber.
Everyone in the chamber expressed profound sympathy for Yul and Kazan, their faces a mixture of pity and admiration.
One of the ministers sighed, shaking his head. "General, there are many beautiful women in Tanzang. The young captain is truly a hero, sacrificing himself for our kingdom."
Another minister tried to offer comfort, "Don't worry, General. In Tanzang, a man can have many wives and concubines."
Jawara stood up and walked towards Kazan, placing a hand on the general's shoulder. His voice was solemn. "General, when they return, I will marry one of my daughters to Palace Guard Yul as a token of gratitude for his profound sacrifice."