Northern Expedition (5)
In the snow-blanketed lands of the north, evening arrives a step earlier than elsewhere. It was the hour when chimney smoke rose busily from every house, each household preparing its supper.
"Ah, Lady Hero. I was just looking for y—"
Hans raised a cheerful hand and started toward Kenis as she approached from a distance.
"..."
She turned her head with a sharp flick and walked straight past him, pretending not to see him at all. Her streaming red hair carried nothing but a chill. Hans awkwardly lowered the hand he had lifted in greeting.
This was not the first time. At the lodgings, during training, even when he had deliberately sought her out during personal maintenance hours—Kenis simply acted as if she neither saw nor heard him, and fled at speed.
He hated to admit it, but the conclusion was clear.
...Did I do something wrong?
What, exactly?
Had he somehow committed a grave offense against the Hero? Or done something that would sour her mood? And if not that—was it that day of the month?
It felt as though reasonless, undeserved violence was raining down on him. Hans desperately combed through his recent memories. Was there anything among his actions that might have offended her?
No matter how hard I think, I can't figure it out.
He fretted until his head throbbed, and still came up empty. Only a mounting sense of frustration remained.
"Hmm? Are you Hans, by any chance?"
"Huh?"
A familiar voice called out to Hans as he stood blankly in the middle of the road. A voice he knew quite well.
He whipped his head around—and there stood a very welcome face, covered head to toe in thick fur.
"Rohan...? Hairy Rohan?! Is that really you? How long has it been!"
"Well, well. It really is Hans! I heard the expedition force had arrived, but I never thought you'd actually be here too."
Ever since word had come that Rohan had transferred out of the Apostle unit into some other detachment, Hans had barely caught a glimpse of him. To run into him this far north was the last thing he expected.
Hans waved enthusiastically. Meeting a familiar face in a distant land was always a joy.
"Seriously, Rohan! What on earth have you been doing that makes you so hard to find? I heard rumors you'd transferred to some other unit and were living the easy li— wait... huh?"
Hans's words trailed off. His gaze had drifted up to the top of Rohan's head.
A pair of beast ears sat there. Large, sharp, triangular ears—a wolf's ears, standing proud and handsome. They twitched and flicked this way and that in the wind. Looking closer, Hans could also see a tail swaying gently between Rohan's legs.
Hans's jaw dropped. He had always teased Rohan for looking like a beast whenever he saw that thick coat of fur—but he never imagined actual beast blood ran through the man's veins.
"You— y-you— you! You were a beastkin?!"
"Ah, this? Yeah, apparently so."
Rohan scratched an ear with complete nonchalance, as if it were nothing more remarkable than waking up and eating an apple.
"We've got a lot to catch up on. Let's grab something to eat while we talk. I know a good place."
"Wha— no, wait, what is even..."
Rohan gestured and strode ahead, his tail swinging left and right. The wolf's tail swayed freely; Rohan himself looked utterly unbothered.
Hans started to protest, then let out a long sigh and hurried after him.
"Wait up!"
Bwahahaha—!
A tavern full of boisterous laughter, scattered conversation, and lively music. The savory aroma of some unknown meat roasted golden-brown, and of soup bubbling with mixed vegetables and more meat, rose to tickle the nose.
The moment Rohan stepped inside, he ordered a mountain of dishes—and then began inhaling them one after another as they arrived.
A feast of meat filled the table. Meat, meat, and more meat. Nothing but meat.
Hans's expression went blank as he stared at the spread. What kind of human being ate like this—nothing but meat, in such mindless quantities?
"Hey. Shouldn't you order something else? Every single dish is grilled meat, smoked meat, boiled meat—that's all there is."
"Ever since my body changed like this, I've been craving meat like crazy. Kind of like my body is asking for it, I guess."
"...Really?"
The other beastkin Hans had seen hadn't been like that. He tilted his head. Maybe Rohan's thick coat really did mean the beastkin blood ran especially strong in him.
They ate for a long while, talking in between bites, until the mountain of food that had covered the table began to show its bare surface.
The conversation ranged widely—stories about the unit Rohan had transferred into, complaints about how his tail fur kept shedding everywhere, assorted incidents and accidents from the Apostle unit days...
As the mood mellowed, Hans finally vented about how the Hero seemed to be avoiding him.
"Mmph... so, chomp. What was it you— slurp— said again?"
"..."
Every time Rohan opened his mouth, little scraps of food flew out. Those greasy lips, the flecks of meat debris spraying free—even a beggar who'd gone days without food wouldn't eat like that. Hans's eyes went cold as he watched him.
"...I said I don't know why the Hero is giving me the cold shoulder."
"Mmm— gulp. Ahh, that's good! Buuuurp—!"
A thick, rolling belch. There had to be a giant hunting horn lodged somewhere in Rohan's gut.
Hans's face crumpled.
"For the love of— Rohan! Even orcs don't eat like you!"
"Urgh—! Whew. Looking at you, I can pretty much see the reason. You really don't know?"
"...What?"
Hans leaned far forward over the table. He had only been complaining without much thought—and suddenly an unexpected lifeline had dropped into his hands.
Rohan, still picking a scrap of meat from between his teeth, grinned. Clearly Hans had no idea why this was happening. In that case, Rohan wasn't about to hand over the answer for free.
"Wh-what is it? Why are you smiling?"
"Urgh— you seriously think I'm gonna tell you for nothing?"
"I'll cover the bill!"
"Deal."
The transaction was sealed in an instant.
Rohan straightened up and spoke with sudden seriousness. On the surface, the Hero's one-sided snub seemed to have neither reason nor cause—but look carefully, and the cause always showed itself.
"Hey, Hans. At the Pantheon, that— what was it— Eroph? Erofu? Some long-eared woman showed up, right?"
"You mean Lady Estel? And it's not Eroph. It's Elf."
"That so? Anyway, that's not the point. You little—"
Rohan tore a huge bite of meat free with a long pull of his teeth and kept talking.
"Be honest. I heard that elf is ridiculously pretty. You— did you talk to her in front of the Hero, or let your eyes wander?"
"Wh-what? W-why would that even come up here?"
Hans's pupils trembled finely. Something had clearly struck a nerve. Rohan, seizing the clue, snapped his fingers with a sharp tak!
"There is, isn't there? There is. I knew it, you bastard."
"...There is, but so what? What does that have to do with anything?"
"It has everything to do with it. A whole lot, actually."
Rohan laced his fingers together and set a grave atmosphere.
"She's jealous."
"...What?"
What kind of orc-reading-scripture nonsense was this?
Jealous? The Hero? Of him? Why?
A swarm of question marks filled Hans's head. Rohan chewed boiled meat with great, wet chomps as he continued.
"You know how it is, right? Looking at you, you kept throwing glances at that Es-em? Esper? Whatever her name is—and that put her in a foul mood. You should've been more careful."
"...Come on. Isn't that a huge stretch?"
Hans hesitated, rejecting the theory. It was true that the Hero was an attractive woman, and it would be a lie to say he felt nothing personal toward her—but jealousy over him?
"Why would the Hero be jealous over someone like me? What would she even have to feel insecure about? There are plenty of cooler, better-looking people around."
"...This is exactly why pretty-boy types are the worst."
Rohan muttered it so quietly that even Hans's sharp ears couldn't catch it over the tavern noise.
"What was that?"
"Nothing. Forget it."
Rohan let out a heavy sigh and went back to gnawing on yet another piece of meat.
"Well. That's my take, anyway."
"What, that's it? I'm paying for the meal and that's all the effort you put in?"
"That much advice is exactly worth one meal, you idiot."
Hans had been a fool for expecting too much from this furry bastard. He looked at Rohan with a resigned, figures expression.
The food that had once covered the table was now nothing but pitiful remnants. Clean-picked bones with not a scrap of meat left on them lay scattered about.
"Urgh—! Ahh, that hit the spot, Hans. The atmosphere around here has been strange lately. You and the others should be careful—pass that along."
"What? Hey, where are you going?! You just inhale the whole meal, drop some half-baked advice, and then run off?"
"I've got another operation coming up, so I'm heading out first. Let's meet again alive next time. Be careful not to fall asleep in the cold snow of the north. Blizzards swallow everything."
Rohan rose from his seat, delivering the line as if it were the coolest thing he could possibly say. To Hans, it was pure nonsense from a guy who ate free and bolted.
Ding-a-ling—
With a cheerful jingle of the bell, Rohan vanished into the snowy night street. He was so quick that in the brief moment Hans sat staring dumbly, he slipped out as smoothly as flowing water.
"Hah... that lunatic."
Even after all this time, he was still a complete lunatic.
"Um, e-excuse me... the gentleman who just left said that you would be covering the bill..."
A freckled server edged up nervously. Judging by her age, she was maybe fourteen. The way she shyly averted her eyes suggested she was the bashful type.
"Ah, yes. Give it to me, please."
Hans sighed and took the check.
Well—treating an old friend to a meal after so long was only natural, wasn't it?
...Hmm? Wait? Wait, wait, wait?!
Hans's eyes grew wider and wider as he read the bill. It far exceeded anything he had expected. Two people—no, one person—had eaten this much?
Hans immediately slammed through the tavern door and bellowed into the night:
"ROHAN—!!! YOU SON OF A BITCH!!"
A scream more than a shout.
That day, Hans's purse grew considerably thinner.
"Haaawn..."
I was bored.
In the Holy Land, the elves were turning out fine bows, and they were getting along with the dwarves without any major friction. They drank together in perfect harmony and worked hard—it was all so peaceful it almost hurt to watch.
And in direct proportion, my boredom kept growing.
Lately I'd been so busy watching the elves, the dwarves, and Iver that I'd been neglecting World Exploration Mode. I couldn't even remember the last time I'd gone in.
Maybe I should take a look around for old times' sake?
It had been a while since I'd checked on Kenis, Friga, Iscal, and the others. I should also make sure that what's-his-name, Marquis Furry, was actually gathering the beastkin like I'd told him to.
— Whoooooosh—
"Huh? What?"
What filled the screen was a landscape of falling snow. A blizzard was raging hard enough to bury the entire world. I'd assumed everyone would still be in the Holy City, so the sight caught me off guard.
I'd tracked Kenis's location—why was she somewhere like this?
Click. Click.
Friga, Iscal, Selina, Marquis Furry, Estel... I tapped through the bookmarked names one after another, and every single one of them was in the same place. All of them had gathered in the northern city of Montegros.
"What the hell is going on now?"
What had happened in the short time I hadn't been watching?