A Special Woman (1)
Silberna stood frozen in place, watching the departing Helmont carriage until it vanished from sight. Everyone else had already turned away, returning to their daily routines, but she remained rooted there. Worried she might stay like that even after it was completely gone, Anna gently tugged her arm.
“Miss? You'll wear out your eyes.”
“Hmm. It's a strange feeling.”
“Why? You just said goodbye, and you're already missing him?”
“Yeah.”
“Whoa, you're being way too straightforward.”
Caught off guard by the bolder-than-expected response, Anna hesitated. Now that Isaac was gone, it seemed Silberna had no intention of hiding her feelings, so Anna warned her anyway.
“You'll see him again at the Sword Festival anyway.”
“……”
“If that's the case, why not confess again?”
They'd spent all that time emphasizing their close friendship on purpose. It was all groundwork for what came after the Sword Festival. Anna said it with a mischievous grin, but Silberna let out a bitter sigh.
“I already know what his answer would be.”
“……Sorry.”
Anna apologized for speaking so lightly about Silberna's true feelings. But Silberna brushed it off casually.
“It's fine. And you're right. We'll meet again soon at the Sword Festival.”
“Exactly! We'll grab him for sure then! I even prepared some clothes for you, Miss.”
“……Clothes?”
“Yep! From what I saw, Sir Isaac seems to like the cute type.”
“……”
Suddenly, Silberna placed both hands on her hips, arched her back a bit, and winked.
“Am I, cu< em>ute?”
“It just feels like an auntie trying too hard to act cute.”
“I'm still in my twenties!”
With a huff, Silberna stormed inside, while Anna burst into laughter.
“But Miss, where'd you learn that?”
“Huh? Sharen does it sometimes. Like, 'I'm so cute!'”
“Pfft! Really? Aw, why didn't I see that?”
“More importantly, why do you think Isaac likes the cute type?”
“Lady Lianna has that cute beauty vibe, doesn't she?”
“Her?”
Silberna tried picturing Lianna but couldn't agree. What was cute about her perpetual blank, icy expression?
“Sigh, Miss. You have to think of it as him liking cute girls. If it was something else, you wouldn't stand a chance.”
“Like what?”
“For example, if he preferred small-chested types, you'd be out for sure.”
“……”
“So, go for the cute vibe. Try it—peep!”
Suddenly, Anna lifted one leg and flashed a V-sign next to her eye. Silberna stared in bewilderment before mimicking her awkwardly.
“P-peep?!”
Her face flushed bright red, her ample chest jiggling with the motion. Anna clicked her tongue.
“Tch, if Sir Isaac saw that, it'd be an instant hit.”
“I feel this weird sense of self-loathing.”
“The Sword Festival is do-or-die. Make him think, 'Huh? Was she always this cute?' Got it?”
“Peep?!”
“See? You're a quick study, Miss.”
Anna, who'd learned about love from books, and Silberna, who hadn't even done that much, chatted away like this, preparing for the Sword Festival in their own quirky way.
“Sir Isaac, what’s your type of woman?”
“……”
Clop-clop.
Three days after leaving the Mallidan Wall. They'd stopped the carriage as dusk fell and were camping out. Sitting by the campfire, Jonathan sprang a random question.
“Did I hear that wrong just now?”
Isaac tried to steer the conversation elsewhere, but the oblivious Jonathan repeated it outright.
“No, I asked about your type.”
“……You know I'm married, right? That's why you're asking?”
“Doesn't your wife have much to do with your tastes, does it?”
Was it because he was a transcendent half-blood? He had an oddly sharp intuition in unexpected areas.
“Didn't know you were interested in women. Why? Need some advice?”
Isaac was ready to retort that the guy who became a Helmont knight to conquer his instincts was asking about girls? But Jonathan just stared blankly and replied.
“Just curious. Back at the church with the guys, this was the usual talk.”
“……”
“We don't have much else to chat about now.”
He wasn't wrong. Until moments ago, the two men had been sitting in silence, just warming themselves by the fire.
“Jonathan, want to spar?”
Isaac shot to his feet. Jonathan jumped up, grabbing his greatsword, while Isaac rummaged through a bundle in the carriage. Inside were several taedos. All made by Antonio—items no one else would use anyway, so he'd taken them.
He gripped one and stood by the fire. Jonathan frowned and pouted.
“Not using White Snow?”
The taedo forged from frost silver ore, White Snow. He'd barely pried it from Silberna after fawning over her relentlessly during their remaining time. He couldn't keep calling it “the revered and beautiful goddess Silbelin” forever.
“Relying on one sword too much makes you dependent.”
Isaac smiled as he answered, and Jonathan swallowed hard, tensing his body.
“Groooarrr!”
“What a racket.”
Jonathan's Red Aura, already riddled with holes, thickened into a sticky swamp. Its near-black hue came, of course, from wielding transcendent power.
“I'll win today!”
His fangs sharpened as he bellowed defiantly, but Isaac drew his sword with a grin.
“As long as you're wielding a Helmont blade, beating me won't be easy.”
A few days later.
“……”
The Helmont territory they returned to felt utterly transformed from when they'd left. The scent of blooming roses hung thick in the air, and voices chattered nonstop. Along the road to the Helmont mansion, stalls lined both sides, bustling like a festival already in full swing.
“Whoa, my first Sword Festival—I never imagined it'd be this lively!”
Jonathan beamed, gazing around. Isaac, anxious about mishandling the reins, widened his eyes in equal surprise.
“First time for me too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Four years ago, when I got married, it was already after the festival.”
And in his previous life, around this time, his legs were wrecked—he'd holed up in his room, avoiding everyone. It was a time he desperately wanted to forget, when he despised himself the most.
“Want to take a quick look around? Once we head to the mansion, we won't get to.”
At Isaac's suggestion, Jonathan eagerly found a spot to park and borrowed a large unused canopy from a nearby merchant to drape over the carriage, hiding it.
“A festival. My first.”
“Yeah? It's sneakily fun.”
Isaac wondered if he should give him some pocket money, but Jonathan was a full knight—his pay was decent. He hummed contentedly as they strolled.
“Do you go to festivals often, Sir Isaac?”
“A bit before marriage. Clients invited me sometimes, or friends dragged me along.”
“Oh……”
Jonathan paused mid-step, then asked hopefully.
“Were those clients or friends women?”
“Why.”
“Just feels like it.”
Isaac ignored him and kept walking; Jonathan grinned and followed.
“As expected of you, Sir Isaac. Handsome for a reason.”
“We're getting too chummy. Feels a bit too comfy, huh?”
“Sorry!”
Even as he said it, Jonathan's smile lingered. Isaac chuckled, and they wandered the festival together.
“Ah, no. I didn't do it on purpose.”
She was a striking woman. Her appearance drew the eye immediately, her skin flawless as if she'd never known hardship. Common blonde hair, yet it made everyone else's look fake—something ineffable set her apart. Hair reaching her waist. Her clothes and belt accessories suggested a seasoned adventurer, creating an odd contrast.
Apparently, she was arguing with the stall owner.
“Hey now, a grown lady like you can't pull this.”
“I wasn't trying not to pay.”
“Then?”
“It was just an accident. I have money. Just not on me right now.”
“……What the hell does that mean.”
“But I can't just leave like this. So, I'll give you something more valuable than money.”
What could be more valuable than cash to a vendor?
“You're selling these as crispy meat skewers, but there's no crisp at all. Chicken, right? Nothing special. Actually, a bit gamey.”
“Over-charred too. Pre-cooked skewers cooled down, making it worse. And bits of splintered skewer mixed in.”
“Uneven seasoning per skewer is an issue, meat quality's poor, and the price is way too high for that.”
“I could go on, but it'd exceed the skewer price—”
She winked slyly and beckoned the vendor.
“Heed my advice and improve— you'll have the most popular stall!”
“Pay up, you bitch!”
“Eek?! M-Mister?! I just paid the price—kyaa!? It hurts!”
The vendor grabbed her by the hair. She flailed in panic, trying to wriggle free.