Chapter 468: Inside the Town
I was staring into the green Magic Stone when the Mailman, who had been observing me, stepped back slightly and began to sway.
The five individuals surrounding me started to move their bodies and arms—yes, “For the small ones, a boat full of wheat; for the medium ones, ten boats. What should we do about the large ones? How much wheat is needed?”
Gestures, gestures are a language! And this “Language” is incredibly proficient…!
“Do you understand? Is it impossible? Should I bring the trading stone tablet?” Their expressions remained unchanged, but I could sense a hint of anxiety and confusion. They had a somewhat childish and pure impression.
“The small and medium ones are fine as they are. Can you let me observe the large ones in the town?”
Just as I was about to say that, I found myself dancing a mysterious dance too. “Language”…!!!
“Oh, it’s getting through. You understand? There’s no hostility in your words. Alright, I’ll guide you. Please give me the green one, okay?”
Ah, this language doesn’t allow for lies. I wonder if conveying feelings is part of it? Once I started talking, the initial fear I felt vanished completely.
“Yeah. I’ll hand over the large one first.” But still, it’s embarrassing to sway like that. Isn’t there something like telepathy? Huh, there isn’t? I see.
While questioning myself internally and denying it, I followed the Mailman. Their hands and arms were slightly flatter than a human’s. They wore a dress that flared out from the chest area, a sleeveless outer garment, and a cloth covering their head. Among the five, one had a different hat shape, but I couldn’t distinguish their features or tell the genders apart.
They moved smoothly, but their long hems brushed against the ground, hiding their legs. It felt like it would be absolutely inappropriate to ask to see them. Even if they were a different race with a different culture, the fact that they were covered by cloth suggests certain norms.
If I asked to see, would it turn into a marriage proposal? Cultural differences are scary.
“This is the plaza. The abundance of water everywhere is to keep our eyes from drying out.”
“We have larger eyes than you do. The fountain is beautiful.”
I had seen a few fountains that simply spouted beautifully sculpted water, but this one was a bit more elaborate.
In sync with the large fountain, the smaller fountains around it also sprayed water, creating a mist that danced in the air. The smaller fountains shot straight up, while the larger one formed a dome of water.
It looked like an overturned decorative bowl, catching the spouting water and floating in mid-air, with water cascading down its curves. The varying strengths of the water made the bowl rise and fall like a flying saucer, which was quite amusing.
Interestingly, the Mailmen occasionally blink, but they seem to share information collectively and hold the same thoughts. Their dance—talking—was perfectly synchronized without any prior coordination.
The plaza was adorned with beautiful patterns made of flowers, water, and sun-dried bricks. While the gathering places were intricate, even the edges of the town showed no signs of neglect. The buildings were all built with a sense of order.
It seemed that the Mailmen typically moved in groups of five. There were a fair number of people around, but all I could hear were the sounds of water and the gentle rustling of the wind through the trees. It felt strangely mystical.
Looking at the Spirits, I could get a sense of the place. Light Spirits like the bright sunshine, Water Spirits with splashes and overflowing water, and many Flower Spirits. There seemed to be a predominance of orderly and gentle Spirits.
They seemed to be a race that led a calm and consistent life, not favoring change much. It would be best to avoid overwhelming them or imposing our culture.
While many Spirits appeared humanoid, they had elongated heads, leaning more towards the Mailmen. They seemed to communicate quietly through gestures. The Water Spirits would make sounds alongside their gestures.
“What do you eat?” I asked the Mailmen.
“We eat water, wheat, and Flower Nectar.”
“I see.”
I looked around and nodded in understanding. The town was filled with water and flowers, and outside, wheat fields stretched endlessly, with no other crops in sight.
One of the Mailmen smoothly separated from the group and returned after showing me another place.
“This is what we eat most often. This is the Flower Nectar from the Shakarada.”
What was offered to me was a thin, square piece of baked wheat flour.
The Shakarada was a tall tree that grew in the town, blooming with purple flowers. The flowers planted here were chosen for their abundant nectar.
“Thank you. I’ll have some.”
Is this unleavened bread? It’s a bit hard and crispy. As I bit into it, the taste of wheat filled my mouth, followed by the floral aroma that wafted through my nose, leaving a hint of sweetness. It was simple yet delicious.
I munched on the bread and drank some water. It did dry my mouth a bit, so the water was appreciated. It was soft and smooth, without any strong taste—was it soft water? Quite rare.
The last place I was taken to was the largest building, resembling the town’s center. Compared to the other structures, the sun-dried brick walls were thicker, and the decorations were intricate.
Could this be a place akin to the Spirit’s Branch or a Temple? If there’s a ruler, perhaps it’s a palace?