Commendation
Commendation
Mandeli Port was undeniably a major port city of Itisel, but right now it had no gate.
To be precise, it used to have one but it was gone. When the city was half-destroyed by the Demonfolk's invasion, they'd supposedly wrecked the gate themselves out of concern it might be exploited. Considering that aiming for troop reinforcements through a gate was the standard pattern, that detail showed just how severe the attack back then had been.
Because of that, I'd planned to fly straight from the capital on a wyvern... but it was fucking cold, so after finding out which city had both a gate and a wyvern station, I'd just moved from there. It cost a bit more money, but the situation allowed for that much luxury, so there was no need to arrive unnecessarily exhausted.
Mandeli Port, which I looked down upon from the sky as the sun began to set after traveling that way, still hadn't fully shaken off the aftermath of the raid.
I didn't know what it would've looked like from the ground, but from a single glance, the city wall was shattered in places and more than a couple of buildings along the wharf were collapsed. Despite that, the people swarming inside like a colony of ants gave a strong feeling that reconstruction was in full swing.
The moment I arrived at the wyvern station, I briefly said goodbye to the second wyvern pilot of my life before heading to the adventurer guild. The building wasn't just nearly intact; it was huge. A structure twice the size of the capital's guild seemed to plainly show what kind of standing adventurers had here.
I couldn't figure out why they'd decorated the roof with what looked like whale bones, but I just figured it was some kind of mascot thing to bring out the port city's identity and let it slide as I stepped inside. Immediately, the sweltering heat and the stench of booze I'd never felt in the capital slapped me right in the face.
Maybe it was because there were so many adventurers, or maybe this Demonfolk search had something to do with it—but even though it wasn't even evening yet, the inside was already packed with adventurers who were thoroughly drunk. The guild interior, filled with a chaotic mess of chatter like "can't stomach this" and "it's doable," seemed a world away from the ravages of war visible outside.
It was hard to even call it a typical adventurer scene. It looked more as though every adventurer in the guild had just finished one big job together and sat down to catch up and unwind.
Of course, the reason for this was obvious. Avoiding the drinking parties of adventurers who'd clearly just returned from searching for Demonfolk, I took off the fur cloak I'd been wrapped in, hung it over my arm, and walked toward the reception desk.
"The guild is only providing food and drink to those who contributed to the Demonfolk search!! Smashed-up gear all gets billed individually, so don't even think about trying to bullshit your way out of it!!"
Listening to the guild staff serving food and drink occasionally shouting things like that, I guessed the problem arose because it was all free. Still, recalling how some adventurers had tried to flee the city they were staying in and head inland just on a rumor that Demonfolk had appeared, they had to do at least this much to keep the complaints quiet.
"Haa... welcome. Did you come to join the Demonfolk search?"
As I approached, leaving behind the scene that made perfect sense just from watching and listening, the female receptionist—who until moments ago had been jabbing her finger somewhere and yelling things like 'if you break it, you're dead'—looked at me without hiding her exhaustion. Still, seeing her try to put on a smile and manage her expression showed she had a pretty solid work ethic.
"I came to find some acquaintances who are participating in the search. Is there a way to do that, by any chance?"
I'd been worried her attitude might change if I wasn't joining the search, but instead, the receptionist's expression relaxed at my words.
"Normally, I'd look up the request list and let you know, but since this search is a collaboration with the military, they formed temporary parties for personnel management, so a separate procedure got created. Do you see that board over there?"
Following her gesture, my gaze shifted to a board crammed tightly onto one wall of the guild, set at eye level. At first, I'd thought there were a lot of request boards, but it turned out it had a completely different purpose.
"It's a status board we made by creating nameplates in the name of the adventurers formally acting as party leaders, to check whether they're still on mission or have returned. If your acquaintance is a party leader, you can check there first, so would you like to go take a look? If they're not on it, I'll help you again."
Was it that the sheer scale of the ongoing request had forced them to make a procedure to reduce the workload?
It seemed the reason her expression had relaxed was because she could use me—having to check all those boards and come back—as an excuse to get a brief moment's rest. I never expected to see a location status board here, something I'd only seen in the military, but I nodded for now and headed toward the board.
Unlike in the capital, my movements alone didn't draw stares. Maybe because I'd caused so much shit there, the moment I so much as set foot in the guild, bastards who recognized me would start reacting like alarms and sizing me up.
Because of the armor I'd gotten this time, drawing a certain amount of attention was unavoidable, but most people just took a glance and then turned their heads. And there was no hostility in it. Thanks to that, I could check the board in peace.
Finding the Gaendal party there wasn't very hard. Their names were on the side of those moving separately, treated as one of the few independent search units.
"Capable people stand out wherever they go, I guess."
Since they were marked as not yet returned, I figured if I just sat down, grabbed a bite, and killed some time, I'd be able to meet them.
I gestured to the receptionist, who still had her eyes on me, that I'd found them, then snagged a suitable table. There were a lot of people, but just as many seats, and since the interior was so heated up, there was no need to deliberately seek a warm spot.
Just quickly settling in and quietly listening was enough to get a vague sense of how the situation here was unfolding.
"Not having to worry about starving's nice, but it's damn exhausting. Did your side get any results?"
"Like hell we did. We only bumped into goddamn orcs."
"Orcs at least mean a bit of side income. We just drew a complete blank."
"Kehehe. What blank? Anyone listening would think the guild wasn't paying up."
From those lightly clinking glasses and swapping stories about the day's events:
"Shit, what a pain in the ass this is because of Demonfolk that aren't even here."
"Demonfolk aren't here?"
"They've got brains too. You think they'd still be here? If they were going to run, they'd have bolted ages ago. We've been coming back empty-handed day after day for weeks now, and you still believe there are Demonfolk left?"
"No, that's just you thinking..."
There were even people arguing with their companions based on half-baked speculation that sounded plausible at first glance but fell apart under scrutiny. Everyone was saying something different, but the general mood was much the same: even though they were being fed well and paid on top of it, they were sick of fruitless work.
"From what I hear, there's a rumor going around that they're looking for someone."
"Who? Demonfolk?"
"Yeah. Guys who ran into thieves or slash-and-burn farmers sometimes talk. I heard a story that they seemed to be looking for someone?"
"Bullshit. Then that means they ran into those Demonfolk bastards. They aren't complete morons, so why would they leave them alive?"
"How the hell should I know?"
The adventurers chattering as they passed by didn't seem to pay the slightest attention to those rumors, but from my standpoint, having already clashed with them a couple of times and even received Seneran's report, it was a pretty plausible story.
The Demon King's Army was better disciplined than expected, and their sense of duty was thorough. Above all, they had a clear division of roles, not even using the humans moving with them as disposable pawns. So while I wasn't sure about thieves, there was a possibility they'd gone easy on civilians like slash-and-burn farmers.
It might have been because the Demon King's Army back then were a unit that infiltrated with a special purpose, but the bastards here now were probably that type too, so I could consider it similar.
Of course, that would only be possible if they had the confidence that letting their tails get caught wouldn't hinder their escape at all... but piecing together the stories I was overhearing, it seemed the bastards at least prided themselves on having that level of skill.
I'd received the stew I ordered and was sipping it, idly picking up bits of conversation around me and mulling things over, repeating that a few times.
"What are you thinking about so hard?"
A voice I was awfully familiar with suddenly reached my ears.
"Ah, shit, you scared me!"
For a moment, I nearly sprang to my feet without thinking, but I forced myself to stay put so I wouldn't spill the stew and managed only to twist my upper body around. Seneran stood behind me, having approached at some point without my noticing, wearing a lifeless smile in her eyes above dark circles deepened by exhaustion.
Beyond her shoulder, the Gaendal party, having spotted me, was waving warmly, but I was too shocked at the moment to do more than briefly exchange glances. If I'd known this would happen, I wouldn't have sat with my back to the entrance!
"Other people notice when they just feel someone's presence standing behind them. Eldmia, why are you in that state?"
"Hard to notice when there's no presence to feel. How could I tell when you come creeping up looking like a half-dead corpse?"
No joke. It wasn't that I was only listening to conversation; I'd been concentrating as hard as possible on my hearing to prepare for any footsteps approaching me, but I'd failed to notice Seneran get right behind my head.
Had this person learned some kind of stealth technique? Wondering about it, I glanced down and saw that instead of shoes, she'd put some kind of unidentifiable fur clumps on her feet.
Goddammit, she wasn't some kind of thief. Those things ate up all the footstep sounds.
"Good lord, can you even walk in those?"
"A little discomfort walking is better than suffering from frostbite."
In fact, it seemed like the halfway state of sweating a lot would make it more painful when it cooled, but since the lady herself was satisfied, I could hardly say anything. While she pulled out a chair with an amused laugh and sat down, Gaendal, who'd changed the status board and approached, greeted me happily.
"It's been a while, Eldmia. But did you perhaps come here by wyvern?"
It was a somewhat odd greeting for a reunion, with the question tacked on right after.
How did he know?