Chapter 87
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 87
Chapter Title: Jealousy
-----------------------------------------------------------------
We'd managed to drive off a group of orcs, but staying put like this would just be asking for death.
Orcs typically lived in even larger packs than goblins.
If we rested here, it was obvious an even bigger group would come looking, and no one present was clueless enough to miss that, so everyone hurriedly prepared to move.
Just 20 minutes after forcing the orcs to retreat.
The wagons started rolling again.
We kept a brisk pace to make sure the orcs couldn't catch up, and only after about four hours did we gradually slow down.
Orcs possessed monstrous strength far beyond humans, but their stamina was lacking, so as long as we put a few hours' distance between us, they wouldn't catch up easily.
I knew this from all the books I'd read in the witch's house whenever I had time, learning about every kind of monster out there.
"By the way, Ellie, right? Impressive stuff. That's gotta be silver-rank level, no?"
Someone called out to me.
Turning around, I saw a middle-aged adventurer with a bushy beard, eyeing me with strong curiosity.
There was no hostility or disgust.
That alone felt novel and nice, so I decided to humor him.
I was confident my maximum-output lightning bolt wouldn't fall far short of silver-rank level.
This wasn't arrogance; it was objective fact, and there was no reason to deny it.
That said, the biggest gap between me and a silver-rank was probably stamina in the end.
Unlike me, who could only swing it three times before my body went numb and I couldn't move properly, a silver-rank could keep using techniques like that dozens of times as long as their stamina held out.
"The burst power might be around that level. But I can't use it more than a few times, so I've still got a long way to go."
"A long way? Kid, you look eleven, thirteen tops, and at that age, pulling that off? You're future gold-rank material!"
Was it really that simple?
The middle-aged adventurer flailed his arms dramatically as he kept rambling on.
"Come to think of it, you're the winner of that tournament in the capital, aren't you? How'd I not notice the badge sooner?"
"You can tell what this is?"
The badge I'd won at the tournament had wing ornaments that set it apart from regular ones, and he was the first besides the bandits to recognize it.
Maybe others had noticed but just hadn't bothered mentioning it.
"'Course! I entered that tournament myself. You think I'd forget the winner's prize? See this? Souvenir from back then! Hahaha!"
He laughed weirdly and hiked up his shirt to show off a scar on his waist.
It didn't look too deep if he'd survived this long.
"Glad you made it through okay."
"I washed out in the qualifiers 'cause my skills sucked, but my life's one tough thread!"
"That's not something to brag about..."
"What better brag is there than a life that won't quit?"
I let out a sigh.
Talking to this energetic guy was starting to wear me out bit by bit.
This was a first for me.
Not even Grandpa, Marcel, Shan and Helen, or the witch.
All our first meetings had been rough, and it only took time to warm up after that.
We'd had plenty of time to adjust to each other.
But this guy just barged in and started chattering away without a care, which was harder to deal with than outright hateful words.
A twinge of self-loathing hit me—had my social skills always been this bad?—and I just wished he'd head back to his spot already.
Maybe it showed on my face, because he burst out laughing heartily.
"Got that 'hurry up and leave' look on your face, huh?"
"...Yeah."
A curt reply, no denial.
But he didn't lose his grin at my cool response.
Instead, he stepped closer and muttered softly.
"Don't be so frosty. I'm here to give you some info you need."
"...What?"
"Some guys jealous of you are banding together. No telling what they'll pull, so watch your back."
"That's why you came over?"
"Yeah. I know about it, but I can't stop 'em, so this is the best I can do to show good faith."
"...Thanks."
The initial noisy chatter was probably just a front to make it look like casual talk.
This must be the real point, so I nodded slightly.
"Thanks."
"Don't thank me. I owe you one, and it pisses me off those jealous bastards are pulling this shit."
He grinned slyly, then at the perfect moment, the caravan leader bellowed, "Back to your posts!" and he slowed his pace to rejoin his spot.
Even without a "Good Connections" passive, it seemed bad connections weren't flocking to me either.
Wonder if this was thanks to the lenses the witch gave me too.
More importantly...
"Jealousy, huh."
A handful of same-level adventurers bunching up? I didn't think they'd take me down.
Even if they ambushed me, as long as they didn't finish me off, I could keep fighting with the potion Helen left.
What worried me more was human malice.
Petty harassment like that? Nothing I could do about it.
Telling the caravan master wouldn't solve it either.
We'd already signed the contract and set off for the destination; we were here to escort them.
Unless it was something major, they wouldn't suddenly cancel the contract, and the master would side with the majority over me.
Escorting was about preventing fights, not starting them, so they'd pick numbers over skill if it fit that goal.
A caravan guarded by a little girl versus one with a bunch of burly adventurers.
Which looked like easier prey?
Too obvious.
So for petty stuff, I had no recourse.
"...Guess I just endure it for a day."
It left a bitter taste—after helping us escape the orcs, this was the thanks—but at least someone warned me, so I took solace in that.
Evening came, and the harassment kicked off in earnest.
It wasn't as bad as I'd feared.
When I went for my rations, they'd shove me to spill the food.
If I scrambled to pick it up, they'd stomp it.
They'd spew vulgarities loud enough for me to hear.
Pretend to "accidentally" step on my foot.
Petty crap like that.
The caravan leader called it adventurer infighting and stayed out of it; I had no plans to ask for help anyway.
I didn't want to make a big scene right after leaving the demon realm, and besides, I could feel their fear mixed with the jealousy.
They never followed when I was alone.
Like when I went to relieve myself—they knew they couldn't take me in a real fight.
So all they could do was petty stuff in front of everyone, using the crowd's eyes and numbers against me.
I set aside questions like why bother.
Since when did human malice need a reason?
Better to shrug it off than waste time on that.
I chewed on jerky I'd stashed away and gazed at the night sky.
Stars you rarely saw back home blanketed the heavens.
"...Just gotta tough it out till tomorrow, then we rest in the village."
They'd assign lodging then, so endure till that point.
I swallowed the jerky with a sigh, and morning came.
My breakfast had bugs in it.
One or two might pass as kitchen mishaps, but a handful full? Pure malice.
And the youngest young master—who hardly ever left the wagon except to do his business—saw it all.
He rushed over in horror, asked if I was okay, and shared his meal.
"S-sorry... I had no idea you were getting bullied this bad..."
"It's fine. I'm used to it."
Honestly, this kind of harassment was so familiar it almost felt cute.
They'd only messed with my food now, but back when I was powerless, they'd forced similar crap down my throat.
"...U-used to it?"
My answer must've shocked him, because the wide-eyed young master headed straight for the group blabbing about me while holding the plate wriggling with live bugs.
I watched them for the day.
"That bitch must've blown the young master once and got that lightning artifact as a payout. Pretty face means she charged top coin!"
Still, the caravan leader dismissed it as adventurer posturing and took no action.
"No real skill, just strutting around acting cool! Why's she getting paid more than me?!"
So even if I acted, it'd be the same.
Just adventurer infighting, after all.
I approached the cluster of adventurers badmouthing me.
They spotted me, faces smeared with sticky jealousy and a hint of fear.
"What? Did I say something wrong?"
The ringleader stepped up boldly, and the group jeered in support.
No reason.
No basis for their trash talk.
All lies.
But they believed what they wanted and treated me like an enemy.
So why should I go easy on them?
I thought for a moment, then a bit longer.
Still nothing.
So.
Puck!
"...Grahhh!"
I smashed the buggy plate into his face and drew my sword.
Why should I go easy on punks who only mouth off relying on numbers.
"Why should I?"
I'm not powerless anymore.