When Rorschach's party arrived at the city square, they saw a stage constructed from hay bales and wooden planks. On the stage stood a giant lamb woven from dried grass.
The square wasn't crowded yet, so they were able to get a closer look at the masterpiece on the stage. The grass-woven lamb was a full four stories tall, plump and robust, and remarkably lifelike. Gazing up at it from the ground was enough to make one click their tongue in amazement.
Singrev and Tassia ran up onto the stage, but Rorschach, believing a wise man doesn't stand beneath a precarious lamb, stayed back.
Just then, a blushing, long-haired man approached Rorschach and explained, "When the parade reaches the square and the celebration is at its peak, this lamb will be set ablaze, and everyone will dance around the burning stage."
'So they dance around the stage, not on it…' Rorschach mused, then said aloud, "A sacrifice."
"Exactly. This event evolved from a sacrificial offering to a Divine Spirit. People are so greedy, aren't they? Hoping to trade a single lamb for a whole year of bountiful harvests. Still, the offering is certainly large enough… Oh, hello. My name is Unuk, the Tier Four Mage stationed in Andorrella. You're quite young, kid."
'Andorrella certainly is a fortress city on the frontier,' Rorschach thought. 'Even the Town Mage is Middle Tier.'
"Rorschach. Tier One, a graduate of the Royal Magic Academy. I'm on my way to Valois for advanced studies."
"That's unusual. Why not take an Airship? This route takes a long time, and passing through the checkpoints is more trouble than at the sky-docks."
"I was cooped up at the academy for too long. I'm taking this chance to see a bit more of the world."
Unuk nodded in approval. "That's a good attitude to have. For a Caster, experience is just as important. Since you're out to broaden your horizons, I'll tell you something that very few people know these days."
He shifted his gaze from Rorschach back to the giant lamb. "This festival and the activities that evolved from the ritual have existed since the days of the Old Empire. And based on my research into the local records, it may be even older.
"Long, long ago, before the Old Empire conquered this place, there was only a small settlement here. They didn't worship Mars, but Ceres, a goddess of grain, plants, and the seasons, whom scholars believe to be a daughter or one of the avatars of the Mother of the World."
"CAW!"
'Did it have to be this dramatic…'
As he was mulling this over, the crowd around them began to swell. People surrounded the stage and started to dance hand-in-hand. Six dancers wearing floral wreaths leaped onto the stage.
Singrev had already come down by this point, but Tassia was still on the stage, her way off now blocked by the dancers.
"Our companion, the young woman, is still up there. Should we call her down?"
Unuk shook his head. "None of the locals seem to mind, so I don't think it's necessary. They're about to light the fire. This is the dance before the lighting ceremony. She'll probably come down after it's over."
The sound of drumbeats and an organ echoed across the square. A jaunty tune with an intricate, fragmented rhythm prompted the locals to join in a chorus:
"O lamb, o lamb, who made you so plump, with fleece so long?
O heads of wheat, o heads of wheat, who made you so golden and so full?
The seasons come and go, life leaves and returns. Here in this land, for You we offer ripe fruit, for You we offer the lamb…"
The crowd sang and danced, their voices a blend of song and chant. More people joined in, raising high torches soaked in pine resin that radiated a scorching heat and a smoky smell.
"The residents here certainly have a knack for dancing," Unuk remarked, watching the stage. The performers had fallen into rhythm with the other dancers. In Rorschach's eyes, the dances were all quite simple—just movements of the arms and legs. 'Less difficult than the plaza dances of the grannies in my past life,' he thought. Tassia, however, just stood there unmoving, looking conspicuously out of place.
But having heard the legend from the Town Mage, Rorschach felt a vague sense of unease.
In the clamorous environment, Rorschach felt antsy. Then, he suddenly sensed something.
A wind was rising.
It wasn't a natural wind, but the fluctuation of Magic Power in the environment. Ever since his battle with Leopold in the Nameless River Valley, his [Magic Concentration] seemed to have improved again. His perception of external Magic Power was now broader and more profound.
"The Magic Power in the environment is fluctuating."
Unuk looked surprised. "Kid Rorschach, are you really only Tier One? You can already sense changes in the ambient Magic Power?"
It wasn't hard to tell from his complexion that Unuk had been drinking. He took a moment to sense the air himself but didn't seem to notice much. "Never mind, don't worry about it. It's probably just the crowd's activities during the celebration causing a 'resonance.' Besides, the object of their dancing and singing has long been… It'll quiet down when the festival is over."
Ordinary people also possessed Endogenous Magic Power. Although it was very faint, the resonance of a large group could trigger extraordinary effects.
This phenomenon was discovered in ancient times by Priests and the Nobility responsible for military command. Thus, learning how to organize large-scale dances and battle formations to produce favorable effects and establish communication with the gods became a specialized art.
It was a technique of the Nobility, one that Casters disdained. It required organizing hundreds, thousands, or even tens of thousands of people. It was a miracle brought about by ordinary people, but it was truly the "magic" of the powerful, needing a general's war banner or a King's Scepter to command.
Based on the theory of "resonance," cooperation between Casters could also produce an effect where one plus one was greater than two. Mages developed powerful Ritual Magic for joint Casting, and the Church formed choirs and Holy Knight Orders with group tactics.
This exact kind of resonance was happening at the Harvest Festival. The people of this land, year after year, with festive hearts, sacrificed, danced, and chanted on this day. However, the object of their worship had fallen during the Age of Silence… To Rorschach, it was like they were dialing a disconnected number every single year.
The chaotic, motley winds of magic continued to swirl.
A roar erupted from another part of the square. The parade had arrived. A divine statue led the procession, followed by a floral float, both accompanied by more singing and dancing.
The bell tower had chimed earlier, and it was now past eight in the evening. For illumination, the procession carried giant torches, and in the firelight, the divine statue seemed to come alive.
Smoke shrouded the square, carrying the scent of pine resin and something else—a sweet fragrance. The songs grew more and more joyous, the procession drew ever closer, about to merge with the dancers in the square. Seven people at the front worked together to carry the oil for igniting the lamb. The entire carnival was reaching its climax.
Rorschach narrowed his eyes to observe the statue surrounded by the crowd. It seemed different from the one he had seen just after leaving the Magic Guild. The statue had grown more slender and graceful, and the torchlight cast the faint, unmistakable shadow of a female figure.
"Something's wrong! Mr. Ah Le! Singrev! Get Tassia down from there, now!"
While he'd been watching the parade, the crowd had pushed Rorschach away from the stage's edge. He tried to shove his way back in, yelling, "Tassia! Get down! Get down!" But Tassia was already encircled by the six dancers. She had somehow become the center of the stage, trapped at the foot of the giant grass lamb with no way to escape.
"There's a problem! Senior! Stop the ritual, quickly!" Tassia shouted.
The other townspeople, as if deaf to her cries, continued their praise:
"Ceres! Mother Earth, grant us a bountiful harvest!" Shrouded in the smoke, the people were growing frenzied. Some began to rip at their own clothing, oblivious to the evening chill. The dancing of others lost all control, becoming more like the wild flailing of limbs.
"Mother Earth! Mother of the World!"