Chapter 54 - I Still Remember That Bastard
I still remember that fucker who was such a pain whenever we were alone.
The first time he invited me to dinner and took me to his family's mansion. I couldn't believe it, kept asking how something that huge could be a house and not a fortress. The old man burst out laughing.
But unlike her husband, the lady of the Sunsstorm house recoiled the moment she saw me. Bringing a guest to a family dinner without a word? Nah, that wasn't it. Was it because I was a commoner porter? It stung, sure, but that wasn't the main reason.
To her, I was a symbol of the Hero's Yoke.
"Oh, that. Tena mentions it all the time, but I never got what it meant."
"Simple terms: if you're born with a hero's power and privilege, you gotta shoulder the duty too."
"Ah. Like, you eat, so you shit it back out. Kinda like mold in a beaker cranking out antibiotics as payback for the culture medium the scholar fed it."
"...What? Uh, it's not exactly like that."
It's a bit different from rich folks talking about elite responsibility or social contribution while donating to hospitals or orphanages. This is about wagering something way more precious than money without hesitation.
Ever heard this one? 'Heroes lay down their lives for the world.' Classic, heart-pounding stuff. But it also paints people like Bourden, Tomco, and Tena as suicidal maniacs who don't value their own necks.
Most call it the Hero's Honor. A select few snidely dub it the Hero's Yoke. It's this sense of duty unique to heroes. And upholding that tradition, Manselrion Sunsstorm was still swinging his sword well into his advanced years.
His wife clearly wished he'd call it quits by now—stop roaming rugged mountain walls with a porter and retire to tend the family estate instead.
But her worries were about to deepen. Manselrion planned to pass down the family tradition to the next generation, just like his ancestors.
That's when I noticed the hero's sons staring at me with wide, curious eyes. And I got why I'd been invited to a family gathering.
I was a gift.
"Introducing me to his kids like some noble gifting a pony? And I wasn't even an adult yet? That's too much!"
"Even the wife who eyed me suspiciously was taken aback. 'Wasn't dragging that little guy into battle enough? Now you're handing him over to our boys like human trafficking?'"
"Exactly!"
"Told you. He's bold but not always thoughtful. He looked pretty sheepish when I pointed it out—apologized over and over."
He just figured his kids could use a seasoned, reliable companion around their age. I could see the logic, forgetting my shock. From his perspective—dragging his own kids into grueling monster hunts for their beliefs—how reassuring would it be to pair them with someone travel-hardened, trustworthy, and a peer?
Luckily, glancing around the table, the couple seemed to have hit the jackpot multiple times. A bold but thoughtless husband. An authoritative yet considerate wife. And their six sons, born between them, welcomed me as their father's comrade with kind smiles and thoughtful words.
All but one.
The others all had their own parties and were proper heroes. So I ended up as the sole retainer for that one lone wolf.
'What the hell is this? Looks like he'd flop over dead before Act 1 even ends in some adventure tale.'
Thoughtless, authoritarian, petty-hearted little shit barked that right at first sight. Even in front of his own dad.
'Who the fuck you staring at? Look down.'
"Didn't ask to switch?"
"Not easy telling a client who'd shelled out big bucks for me that I couldn't hack it. Now that I've been through it all, yeah, I can say it was straight-up impossible."
Plus, eighteen-year-old Tan Bantai back then—never shied from dirty work—had a fire and loyalty that's long gone now.
Manselrion wasn't just the guy who'd turned my little sister into a proper academy mage trainee. He was the hero who always brought me back in one piece, no matter where we went.
How could I refuse his request with that bond forged in sweat and blood? I'd survived jungle orc pantries and man-eating flowers. Was I gonna bail just 'cause some kid four years younger scared me?
I should have.
It took me six years of brutal lessons to learn that a bad boss can be scarier, grosser, and deadlier than man-eating monsters.
"Adamanthon's party started out huge. Not Grimgal-level, but we had shieldbearers, scouts, accountants—even a cook."
"Noble daddy pulling strings for his son's flashy debut, huh?"
"Obviously. No way that many folks gathered for Adamanthon's charm. And predictably, they all trickled out, wowed by his personality."
I don't know about his brothers, but that bastard hated doing anything himself beyond brushing teeth, shitting, and eating. More like, why bother when someone's there to serve you?
People who couldn't stomach Adamanthon—hero strength meets chimp aggression—fell into two camps: those who could leave, and those who couldn't.
I had two reasons keeping me stuck.
One was my sister, who'd lightning-graduated the academy and landed a spot as a proper mage tower researcher. She wrote saying he only needed half the usual money now—the tower covered her pricey lodging and meals. I gritted my teeth and stayed the pillar till the end.
The other? My pride and joy: A-rank guild cred as a porter. Grinding under a prick like Adamanthon years on end starves your need for recognition till you lose your mind.
Wonder how it's looking now. Probably tanked to F-rank over some scandal.
"I was hanging on by spite and grit, fuel running dry. And ironically, Adamanthon was thinking the same. 'Can't tolerate this guy anymore.'"
"What a psycho. Total asshole."
"After that, well, you know the rest. Tena finds me, I join the women-only party. Fun fact: Tena was my first hero to follow—not Sunsstorm. And she was the first to ditch me, not Adamanthon."
"Whoa. Wait. So you partied with her as kids? 'Azure Tena's' legend started with you? Kinda makes you our senior."
Bilena marveled. Then sobered up.
"...But she ditched you? Broke up the party? Wait, obviously. Grimgal came after, and you weren't a founding member. But why?"
"Not for the same reason as Adamanthon. Wasn't 'cause she couldn't stand me—it was her own issues she couldn't handle."
"What issues?"
"If she hasn't told you, I can't either. But I can say this: when she declared sending me packing for that reason, I harbored a sticky, seething hatred."
I gazed at the distant sea and sniffled. The wind was chillier than expected. My chest felt cold.
"Looking back now, though, all that resentment—what was the point? Look where we are. I got reinstated thanks to Tena, and Adamanthon's shaping up as dragon chow."
Bilena scratched her head. Then, cocooned in her blanket like a caterpillar, she crawled up to sit properly on the lounger.
"Sun's rising. Good talk."
"Entertaining?"
"Nah. But I learned a ton about you, Bantai. Made it worth it."
"Aw, really?"
"Yeah. Hey, Tan. What if, back on that day—"
Whatever she meant to say about that day, Bilena blinked, cutting off mid-sentence right before.
Was it fun? That matched my reply.
Was it good? That wasn't my voice.
A warm breeze from an odd direction made Bilena and me turn to the loungers behind us.
Esen and Reni—hiding, eyes wide, grinning—giggled as Bilena shrieked and tumbled onto the sand.
"Clears my old grudges too, you bitch! Makes me wonder what all my resentment was about, huh?"
"Damn it, Esen. Thought my heart would stop."
"You, who survived orc pantries—what's with the chicken heart?"
"Fair point. Sorry we overheard by accident. Not sorry to Bilena, though. Who eavesdrops on their own party?"
Reni's opener was polite; the follow-up struck like lightning. I learned from her you could apologize and scold in one breath.
Bilena hunched her shoulders, mumbling, then fled beet-red into her blanket.
Esen poked the massive beach burrito, mocking.
"Hey, she's hiding. Ostrich? Thinks covering her face fixes it?"
"I know you're low on self-efficacy and self-esteem, so I'll hold back. Pointing out flaws to someone with image issues is mean. But hear this: scared of getting trashed or blamed? Just make friends. Our party's full of good people."
Solid advice. Helped me adapt fast amid all the chaos.
But.
"What's with those swimsuits?"
Reni—in pitch-black full-body suit and weird tube—nodded at identically clad Esen.
"She graciously lent us gear made purely for ocean viewing. Dragons here are rowdy and risky, but they know how to have fun."
"Like those cookies last time."
"Shut it. Anyway, Esen and I finally agreed on something, so we spent the morning checking out coral reefs and tropical fish. Till we found two way funner sights."
"One was you two chattering like lovebirds. Cute try at seduction, fox bitch."
Reni laughed, thinking it a joke. Then flinched at Esen's sinister grin.
Bilena, panicking over getting caught eavesdropping, seemed oblivious.
"...Anyway. The other one."
Reni shrugged, fishing Bilena from her blanket.
"Around those rocks over there."
Shaking foliage. Palm trees shedding leaves like they might drop coconuts any second. Bilena's jaw trembled in full freakout.
"Wh-wha. Whaaa..."
"Quit bullshitting. First time seeing it?"
"Stop mocking and scram. We'll get caught."
Three kids in swimsuits watching with sparkling eyes... Bilena was right.
Wh-wha.
"Dragged us here to show that? And call it fun?"
"Ain't it?"
It was fun. Probably the only spectacle more entertaining than a fight.
Rare for folks to flaunt it so openly, though.
And since showing off to just anyone is uncommon, they needed a spot away from the festival racket—their private beach.
Yeah. Perfect for it. No fear of prying eyes, the couple against the tree let loose without muting a peep.
Two main sounds.
Laughter, and.
"Nyaaah♥"
...Moans.
"As expected yet shocking."
"Fascinating discovery. Share it. Speak."
"Dragons fuck in human form too."
"Indeed. A momentous revelation swells my chest."
My head throbbed; I just rubbed my brow.