Chapter 7
Chapter 7
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: Fortune Telling Shop Opening (2)
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"Uh... Excuse me, is it still far?"
To my repeated urging, the knight gruffly replied.
"Wait. We're almost there."
It wasn't much farther, but I couldn't hold back any longer.
It was because of the soldiers shouting right in front of me.
"Clear the way, everyone!!"
Murmurs.
Murmurs.
That's right.
Right now, I was marching down the main street under heavy escort by knights and soldiers.
"That young man there. Wasn't he a hunter?"
"Did he win some kind of award?"
"Or maybe he committed a crime."
"I heard Hans's daughter went missing... Could it be?"
Marching down the count's territory's largest boulevard, I was drawing all the attention from the neighborhood.
It was burdensome.
Extremely so.
"Can't we go quietly?"
"No."
"Yes, sir..."
The knight looked utterly inflexible just from his appearance.
Thick eyebrows, prominent thick lips, and eyes gleaming with intensity—he had the face of a rigid stickler.
Beyond rigid, downright nitpicky?
"Whew... No, wait. Isn't this a chance?"
With everyone's eyes focused on me right now, this moment.
And the fortune-telling shop opening scheduled soon.
This was perfect.
In the center of the soldiers, I raised my arm toward the townsfolk.
"Everyone!!! In two days, somewhere in this village, I'll read your fortunes..."
My advertisement couldn't finish.
Because the knight immediately raised his hand to stop me.
"Can't you stay quiet?"
"...No."
"Be quiet."
After marching boldly, drawing all the aggro in the count's territory, I was able to enter the castle where the count resided.
After walking a bit more, a door under strict guard came into view.
Clack.
Clack.
Two young knights blocked my path in front of the door.
Their glaring eyes were intensely intimidating and coercive, as if I were a potential criminal.
"No weapons allowed in the presence of the count."
"I don't have any."
Maybe because my status was commoner, these knights had been speaking down to me from the start.
Their overbearing attitude only made me scoff inwardly.
Did they think it was easy to break a shaman's spirit?
A ghost without eyeballs staring would be a hundred times more chilling than these guys straining to glare.
"You can't bring that thing on your waist inside either."
"Hm?"
There was only one thing on my waist.
The sacred tool a shaman carries for life.
My rattle, worthy of being called a spirit relic.
Take a shaman's rattle?
"Does this look like a weapon to you?"
I pulled out the rattle myself and thrust it in front of the knight's eyes.
How could this possibly look like a weapon?
For a moment, the knight's face twisted as if caught, and he whispered coldly.
"Talkative commoner."
"What?"
"Daring to argue with a knight? You don't even know your place."
"Oh, really?"
I'd been planning to let it slide since I'd followed the aura of great fortune.
But the knight's next words were utterly intolerable.
"For defying a knight, your item is confiscated by the count's territory."
I could see greed gleaming in the knight's eyes.
It shimmered with a mystical blue light, so he probably thought it would fetch a good price.
A blatant mistake by the knight.
Thinking of selling a shaman's rattle.
Right in front of the shaman holding it.
"Hey, knight."
My head tilted sideways.
Now I saw—this knight had done this more than once or twice.
"You shook down that commoner coming to pay taxes yesterday, didn't you?"
"What?"
"And the day before, you picked a fight on the street and took some. Let's see... 2 silvers? Small change."
The knight's face was growing paler by the second.
"What, you're no bandit... That thing on the end of your sword! One of your prized possessions, right?"
"You insolent commoner...!"
The knight's misdeeds didn't end there.
The lingering spirits around him all bore sword wounds on their bodies.
They had definitely died by that blade.
And with grudges strong enough to linger.
Taking a human life was one of the gravest sins.
And sins demand punishment.
"So you've even killed people?"
"You bastard...!!"
The knight moved as if to draw his sword right then.
Of course, he couldn't.
I was the count's guest, after all.
From afar, that nitpicky knight from earlier walked over and said quietly.
"Enough."
"Gasp...!"
The sleazy one's face drained of color in an instant.
"Were you thinking of pointing your sword at the count's guest?"
"N-No, that's not... This commoner..."
"I'll deal with your misconduct severely. Remember that."
After scolding the sleazy one, the knight turned to me.
"My apologies for the rudeness. Let's go in."
Who knew the guy who seemed so uptight could be this reliable.
The knight standing next to the sleazy one chimed in as if waiting.
"That item doesn't look like a weapon, so it's fine."
After that came nagging about etiquette in the count's presence, but I half-ignored it.
I could already sense it.
The person waiting inside had a temperament similar to Parmon's.
Feeling it so clearly meant we were fated to cross paths somehow.
Maybe even a connection ordained by the gods.
"Please enter."
The door opened to reveal a middle-aged uncle.
"Are you Chris? Nice to meet you. Sit anywhere."
I stared blankly at the count without answering.
I was already sitting.
"Already seated?"
"Figured you'd tell me to sit."
"Hmm... Just as I heard. Parmon passed along the message."
The count sitting across from me eyed me appraisingly.
His eyes were clear, forehead smooth.
His blond hair was thick and full.
The count's refined features gave off a clean aura too.
"So. You can communicate with spirits? See the future too?"
"Something like that."
It might seem rude to a noble, but the count didn't seem to mind.
"Honestly, I can't quite believe it. If not for Parmon's word, I'd think you a fraud."
A natural reaction.
Even in Korea where shamans exist, more disbelieve than believe.
I was used to it.
And among the skeptics, there's always those types.
The ones who test to see if it's real.
"Any spirits around here?"
"None in this room."
"You see the future, so you know why I summoned you."
Seeing the future wasn't quite what the count thought, but I had no intention of correcting him.
It's a sensation hard to explain or make others understand.
"Then guess. Why do you think I called you?"
"......"
"So it was a lie after all."
Instead of answering, I looked at the count with puzzled eyes.
"Why would you ask me that, Count?"
No need to explain to the count.
He didn't know the reason himself.
Because.
"The one who called me wasn't you, Count..."
My gaze shifted to empty air.
"It was the old man over there."
Right there.
Where a barrier like Parmon's was spread.
A strong aura connected to me was surging from there toward me.
"Ho?"
As the count smiled intriguingly, the air parted.
Swoosh—
"Hahaha..."
A hearty laugh came from a blond old man who appeared.
His wrinkle-free face looked youthful yet carried profound years.
"Ramon didn't lie after all."
The count had already stood.
He naturally yielded the seat to the old man.
As the old man sat, he spoke.
"I'm Astor Closel."
Astor Closel.
Even I, a frontier hunter, had heard the name of this renowned mage.
I knew little beyond that.
Great Archmage of the 7th Circle or something?
"Looks like you've heard of me."
Not even waiting for my reply, Closel kept talking rapidly.
"I couldn't hold back my curiosity. You don't just see spirits—you see mana too? How did you detect that spell just now?"
"It's like... seeing this."
"Not just with eyes, then. I've heard of it—Spirit Sight, like spirit mages describe?"
"Spirit Sight..."
"Do you see through sound and touch like them?"
Closel's questions came relentlessly without pause for answers.
Why ask if you're not listening?
After a few more, Closel seemed to realize and chuckled awkwardly.
"Haha... Sorry. Mages are naturally curious, you see."
"....."
The question barrage finally ended.
I smacked my lips and glanced at the air again.
"You come out too, Old Man?"
This wasn't some waiting room—come out all at once.
At my words, Parmon stepped out.
"Kekeke. Knew you'd know. Rosel, what'd I tell you?"
"Ugh... I have to believe it first."
"Pa-Parmon?"
Even the count hadn't known Parmon was there.
Judging by how startled he jumped up.
"Now that everyone's here, let me ask."
"Go ahead."
"You're missing someone, right? Is that why you called me?"
"Spot on. You see that too?"
As expected.
With fated connections like this, shamans can clearly sense the purpose.
Like nailing it before even sitting for divination.
And from experience, this kind of longing usually had one goal.
"Straight to the point. I want to meet my late wife."
Spirit communication is possible.
And they found the right person.
But.
"Impossible."