Legend of the Southern
Legend of the Southern
There was no reason to drag things out, so the moment the discussion at the Guild wrapped up, I moved my feet toward the Noble Council.
Fortunately, no troublesome incidents occurred along the way. The moment I arrived at the Noble Council, I was guided in as if they had been waiting for me, and the process of heading to Duke Lesrom's office—which I'd now gotten somewhat accustomed to—felt so unnaturally smooth it was almost awkward.
Because of that, I couldn't shake the nagging unease even during that short time, but no incident occurred right up to the moment I opened his door. For a moment, I found my own situation—worrying about such things even inside the capital—a bit laughable... but it wasn't as if such things had only happened once or twice.
Anyway, Duke Lesrom, upon seeing my face, stopped writing whatever he was working on and spoke with a gentle smile that didn't suit him.
"Would you care for a cup of tea?"
"...Yes."
"Excellent. I just received tea leaves suited for cold weather yesterday."
Even though I'd worked hard at the Ogatorf manor, I couldn't understand the idea of choosing tea based on the temperature, but since he said so, I decided to go along with it. I'd drunk my fill at the Guild and even visited the restroom, but my throat always got dry from talking, so I had no reason to refuse.
This wasn't the type of man who'd slip something weird in at this point, either.
As I took my seat thinking such thoughts, Duke Lesrom rose from his chair at an easy pace, prepared the tea with the same practiced movements as always, and smoothly got straight to the point.
"You're quick on the uptake, so there's no need to explain this and that. Do you have any particular questions?"
Questions about why he'd prepared countermeasures for my return, how he hadn't been surprised to see me, and so on all felt pointless. It would be weirder if a duke working with the royal family didn't know. So I decided to get straight to the point too.
"What exactly will I be receiving?"
"Don't worry. It's a medal."
It was a good thing when communication flowed well, but when it flowed this well, it was a little frightening. Because the meaning behind that 'Don't worry' was all too clear.
"It's a medal called the Silver Shield Medal, one of those awarded for achievements in the defense of the capital. It's not flashy, and since it's primarily meant for soldiers to wear, it's not bulky either. However, because it carries the distinct symbolism of having protected the capital, it's rare and perceived as equally honorable, so no one can touch you carelessly. I hear there are quite a lot of people impersonating you these days?"
Was he holding onto all this information because it was wartime, or was such a thing required of a duke's position? Whatever the case, I nodded along appropriately, thinking it was a position I'd want to decline even if offered.
"Impersonating me would bring serious trouble, I imagine."
"Execution by hanging. After a few deaths, those sorts of crowds disappear in an instant. I hope you can bear it for just a little while. Ah, I'll say this in advance just in case—we don't know what the Empire will give you either."
Duke Lesrom, carrying the tea set over with an attitude that was half joke and half serious, spoke. I shrugged and answered in the same manner.
"Well, it's not as if they'll give me a title."
It was a statement made because Esmue, who already knew what I intended to do, would never give me such a thing, but Duke Lesrom, who had been maintaining his smile, looked at me with an expression that said he'd seen all kinds of strange people.
"You saved no one less than the 1st Princess. If you wanted a title, they'd simply give you one."
And what followed was an extremely ordinary, sound argument. I realized I'd made a mistake in my reasoning, and my brain nearly shut down after the fact.
"...Now that you put it that way, you're right."
"...You really do keep showing just how skewed your sense of what's normal is. It's making me uneasy that I pushed for a medal because I thought you'd prefer one over a title. If you ever want a title later, just say so. I have absolutely no intention of slighting you."
I'd unintentionally planted some weird distrust and felt awkward, but fortunately, Duke Lesrom didn't probe further. Given the sheer volume of eccentric acts I'd committed, maybe he was firmly convinced my way of thinking was just different from others.
"In any case, it's a medal bearing the royal family's commendation, so even if people who want to recruit you start making nuisances of themselves, they won't be able to move against you carelessly. And the same goes not only for the Noble Council but also for the royal family, who understood what your action of personally judging Envelde meant. Thanks to that, no one has yet dared to suggest audaciously using your heroic achievements for their own gain."
Duke Lesrom, explaining things by pointing out only the key points as if he'd anticipated what I'd be curious about, was truly a sly old fox. Perhaps because of that, no matter how favorable he was, the longer I sat and talked with him, the more he was a person who made me vaguely uncomfortable for no good reason.
"On the contrary, there was even an opinion raised that if you clearly express your intentions, we should have you invested as a wandering knight the moment you come of age and send you to the battlefield as soon as possible. What do you think?"
The existence of nobles who showed the reaction I appropriately wanted was good news, but this time I had no choice but to ask for a little delay.
"First, I have things to do, so I'll likely have to observe the progress for a while."
"Things to do, meaning?"
"There are things to look into personally, and I need to help an acquaintance with some research."
There was no reason to say specifically, and I didn't want to say it either, so I talked around it. Duke Lesrom immediately nodded and asked no further.
Surprisingly, the important talk regarding me ended there.
After that, I simply repeated about thirty minutes of 'ordinary small talk'—listening to Duke Lesrom talk about the tea he'd brought out and offering appropriate responses—and I left the Noble Council as if nothing had happened at all.
It was a truly peaceful conclusion, except that the smile of Duke Lesrom, who had seen me off with the ordinary greeting of 'Come by often. It's nice to get some rest and have a conversation partner thanks to you,' made me feel like I'd been played somehow.
"...Ah, seriously, why does it keep feeling like I've been played?"
The problem was precisely that this made me feel even more uneasy for no reason. Even as I moved my feet, trying to think nothing would happen, I kept looking back.
In the end, unable to shake the nagging feeling, I reminded myself of the fact that politicians were not to be dealt with and hurried my steps to get away faster, heading toward Mr. Balkun's workshop.
I hurried as if I were being chased, bought some liquor as a courtesy gift, and reached Mr. Balkun's workshop. I was welcomed extravagantly and sent straight in to see Mr. Balkun, like seafood delivered fresh from the source. Naturally, the warm welcome wasn't because of the liquor.
The cause was that, as much as my name had spread over the past month, the customers flooding the shop had increased even more. Thanks to that, this time, nearly all my armor was repaired for free.
"Looks like you've roughed this one up a bit more this time."
"Well... I got around quite a lot."
There was damage from the fight with the Ear Hunter, but in truth, the small-scale damages accumulated while dealing with those orc bastards in the Great Grassland were greater. Fighting against orc groups the entire time I moved, except for brief moments of sleep, meant that no matter how insignificant those bastards were, I couldn't always finish things cleanly.
Mr. Balkun, knowing my circumstances to some degree through rumors, didn't ask how I'd roughed it up and instead simply handed it over to another smith to provide an estimate.
"You brought a Hero along, so it's nothing new at this point. Aside from armor, do you need anything else?"
"There's no particular weapon I want to buy, but do you happen to know a way to meet Shadow Foot?"
"That guy? Why?"
"I used the potion I received last time, and the effect was extremely impressive. I was thinking of buying a few while I have the leeway, and I wanted to ask if he has a decent supplier."
As a result, I'd used it a bit wastefully, but the blue potion Shadow Foot gave me was definitely an item worth its high price. Even though the wounds were small compared to a hole in the stomach, not only did I not feel fatigue after recovery, there wasn't even a scar left. Considering the merit of helping my one and only life survive, it was at a level where it wouldn't be a waste even if I poured out all the funds I'd gained in the West.
However, if I ended up finding out there were risks of counterfeits or differences in efficacy outside a designated vendor, I could face a crisis that wouldn't end with just clutching the back of my neck. I wanted to get Shadow Foot's advice if at all possible.
"Hmm... Originally, he was a guy who rarely came by since he moved with his party... Thinking back, he's been coming by oddly often lately, so there might be a chance?"
Unexpectedly, Mr. Balkun explained that Shadow Foot didn't move alone but with a party. Given that the party could keep up with his scouting abilities, they were clearly upper-tier even among Purple-rank adventurers.
"Anyway, fixing your armor this time will take at least a full day, so I'll send someone to check. It'd be discourteous to just tell you where he's staying without asking him first."
Aside from Mr. Balkun's entirely reasonable compromise, the fact that the armor repair would only take about a day was a bit surprising.
This time, the work wasn't just repair but also reinforcement. The work involved adding steel plates to parts that frequently wore down during combat and attaching chain to spots where a blade might slip through like a hidden gap, but the smithy was currently piled high with items left for repair by adventurers on their rest period.
When I honestly showed my bewilderment at the sudden preferential treatment—which was no different from skipping past everyone who had left their items before me—Mr. Balkun burst into a hearty laugh and spoke.
"Part of it's thanks to your reputation, so I can do at least that much for you. And the other guys all leave theirs to get repaired while resting, but with you, the feeling's always strong that you're busy and about to dash off somewhere. If everyone's taking it easy, they won't complain if a busy person's item gets processed first."
Did my actions really look like that? Just a very brief moment of pondering that question gave me the answer. I'd been running around as if I'd caught some disease that would kill me if I holed up in one corner.
Now, I might really damage my body if I didn't rest while doing nothing but study for a while.