Chapter 13
Chapter 13
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Laying Out the Mat (3)
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Getting there had taken only an instant, but coming back took forever.
Alisa was in too unstable a condition for us all to fly back together.
The child who'd wandered lost in the mountains for days couldn't possibly be in good shape.
"Finally...! We're here."
The sun had already set by then.
Having to close up shop like this on my first day of business...
"Wait a minute."
I'd forgotten in my rush to go and return.
"My money box!"
The money I'd collected from all those fortune-telling sessions.
"My bounty...!"
The plump pouch Randolph had tried to give me.
I'd abandoned everything and flown off.
"Oh... no..."
I hurried over and spotted the mat I'd laid out.
A good amount of time had passed, but people were still guarding the spot and murmuring among themselves.
"Th-there she is!!"
"She's coming alone?"
Through the crowd, I saw my precious money box.
At the place where I'd been sitting, Hans stood anxiously, scanning for me.
Seeing me alone, his eyes welled up.
"...Pl-please... tell me you found her."
He must have been standing guard here faithfully ever since I'd left.
Seeing Hans like that made my own heart burn black.
"Alisa..."
She should have been in sight by now...
"Ah, there she comes!"
"Alisa! Thank the gods...!"
Hans rushed out and scooped Alisa into his arms.
People rubbed their eyes at the sight of him shouting thanks nonstop, his voice choked with sobs.
"Not bad at all."
It had been worth the hardship.
I even felt proud, like I'd properly fulfilled my role as a shaman.
Hans approached me, clutching Alisa tight and sniffling.
"Thank you...! Thank you so much!"
Meeting his gaze was incredibly burdensome.
A grown man's face covered in tears...
I had a strong premonition that I'd be seeing eyes like that often from now on.
Walking the path of a shaman, incidents like this would keep happening.
Especially here—there seemed to be no shortage of places to put my powers to use.
"You're our benefactor!"
Hans was now bowing to me with formal speech.
"How can we ever repay this grace..."
He looked ready to dash home and scrape together his entire fortune right then.
More money would certainly make life easier, but somehow it didn't sit right.
What can I say—it felt like I'd simply done what needed doing.
This must have been why Master always took such small offering fees.
"It's fine. Just live well."
"We may have nothing to our names, but we won't forget your grace."
I got the feeling he'd force it into my pockets regardless.
I cut him off firmly.
"5 silver."
"Pardon?"
"I can't take more than that."
Hans's eyes widened at my words.
"But that's... less than what it'd cost to hire a mercenary..."
After a moment's thought, a strange glint sparked in Hans's eyes.
Admiration and respect swirled within them.
It felt like yet another person had gotten the wrong idea about me.
Hans nodded vigorously.
"You seek no reward, so we'll do as you wish, benefactor."
"No, it's not that I don't want..."
What on earth was this man saying?
Of course more money was better.
But I could only accept exactly 5 silver.
Even if I took more, only 5 silver would end up in my hands anyway.
The people around us started murmuring again at my behavior.
"He knows Hans is struggling."
I hadn't realized Hans was in such dire straits.
He hadn't seemed like someone mired in hardship...
I heard old man Parmon slyly interject.
"He's deliberately taking 5 silver at least, so Hans won't feel burdened."
"To think...!"
Murmur.
Murmur.
Strange misunderstandings began to spread.
"No, everyone, that's not..."
"A young guy like that wouldn't scam us."
"I should come tomorrow for one of those readings too!"
Alisa tossed one more line onto the rising fervor, fanning the flames.
"I almost got eaten by a goblin, but Chris oppa saved me...!"
"Whoa...!"
Two old men watched the bustling street.
"Hey, Ramon, what a rare young man. Isn't he?"
"Didn't I tell you?"
"Taking only 5 silver again this time."
The fondness in Closel's eyes deepened further.
"One has to secure their own share to get by."
Closel was growing fonder of Chris by the minute.
When he'd first heard the story, he'd thought Parmon had lost his mind.
Knowing Parmon better than anyone only made him more curious.
So he'd summoned Chris.
Thinking that if his old friend had fallen victim to some necromancer's trick, he'd dispatch him on the spot.
'No mana could be felt.'
Not even the dark mana necromancers hoarded—nor any traces of even rudimentary magic training.
Just an utterly ordinary commoner.
'That's strange too.'
An ordinary commoner skillfully slaying goblins?
With his eyes closed, no less?
Chris had clearly fought as if he could see perfectly.
Movements suggesting he had eyes not just in front, but behind as well.
According to Parmon, there were no signs of sword training either.
"The more I think about it, the more intriguing. Parmon, could you fight with your eyes closed?"
"Of course."
"I see."
"But that's only at my level as a knight. Even knights of higher realm have their limits when fighting blind."
"Any leads on that imperial combat technique we saw earlier?"
Parmon nodded as if it were obvious and pointed at Chris.
"See his hands and legs trembling?"
"Hmm..."
As Parmon said, Chris's body was shaking.
"He performed movements impossible for that body. Muscle injury."
"Any chance he deliberately weakened himself?"
"Absolutely not."
Closel nodded slightly.
His friend's words as a sword master couldn't be wrong.
At least not when it came to swordsmanship—nothing escaped his eyes.
"Then..."
Closel paused briefly before speaking.
"That fellow learned no magic yet tore my barrier, trained no swordsmanship yet fought goblins blind, and..."
"Hmm..."
"...willingly saved the child, heedless of injury to himself."
"Yes, but..."
"And no greed for material gain either?"
Closel and Parmon's expressions turned puzzled.
"An impossibly perfect young man."
"...And my benefactor to boot."
"The benefactor of a sword master..."
Understanding his statue-carving friend's feelings, Closel's expression soured bitterly.
How much effort he'd poured into changing Parmon's mind.
He'd thrown up his hands and given up against that stubborn resolve.
"My benefactor as well."
"Keh heh..."
Closel let out a smirk at Parmon's laugh.
His old friend's smile—unseen for decades—was a sight to behold.
"Heh heh heh..."
Money was piling up.
Copper instead of silver, but it still felt secure.
Totaling 1 silver and 25 copper.
Thanks to Hans guarding the money box while I was away.
Adding the 5 silver agreed upon from Hans made for a pretty comfortable sum.
Enough for meat at dinner tonight.
Sizzle—
The hefty chunks of meat were nearly done cooking.
"This is why a house with a yard is great."
There were no set boundaries for the yard.
No neighbors nearby, so anywhere I claimed as yard was our house's yard.
"First... one for the shrine..."
I plated a large piece of meat and headed to the back of the house.
I'd set up a modest offering table there.
Not a lavish spread, but decent snacks.
Sincerity is what matters most, after all.
Thud.
After placing the meat, it looked decent enough.
I poured liquor from the bottle beside into a cup and looked up.
"Quite the crowd."
For starters, the spirits from our house's back mountain numbered no joke.
Over ten had descended, and that was just some of them.
Plus all the stray ghosts drifting around the area.
Enough for a proper banquet.
"Nothing fancy prepared, but eat up before you go."
The spirits who'd settled in the graveyard broke into broad grins and approached the offering table.
The stray ghosts too.
"Hey! Where do you stray bastards think you're going, trying to share the table?"
I raised my rattle, and the clustered strays froze in unison.
Flinch.
"If you'd lived righteously, you'd have passed on peacefully, right?"
They'd sinned against people in life, and even in death couldn't break the habit—hence becoming strays.
"Your sins catch up eventually. Harm folks and get caught, you might die again."
Stray ghosts could only be driven off with shouts or sheer force of will.
Lucky for me my spirit was strong; if I'd only awakened spiritual eyes, I'd have been seriously tormented.
"Hey, Headless—you, come here."
Flinch.
The head-smacking sensation was so satisfying, I'd nicknamed him Headless.
His comical look, clutching his head tight with both hands lest it fly off again.
"Beheaded loser—what makes you think you deserve the offering table?"
One loose-headed spirit from the public graveyard stared blankly at my words.
"Ah, elder—you go ahead and eat."
Those elders had every qualification for the offering table.
They'd devoted their bodies to great deeds in life.
"You stray bastards have your own spread over there—go eat that. No meat for you."
Just when would these clingy strays finally ascend...
I could only hope their reasons for lingering weren't malicious.
Who knew—keep feeding them, and they might reform and ascend someday.
"Now I should eat too."
Come to think of it, this was my first meal of the day.