The Hairpin and the Hero's Demand
The mage packed her belongings. She even checked out of the inn.
Having stayed there for so long, it felt like leaving a beloved home. In an adventurer's life, this would happen often. So, she needed to learn to shake off any lingering attachments without regret.
With her meticulous personality, the mage made a list and gathered all the necessary supplies. The trip to Start Village would take over ten days by carriage—even if they were lucky.
If they ran into bandits and got delayed, or lost their way, it could stretch to half a month or more. Such setbacks were common among adventurers.
She bought the latest map and a compass from the general store. At the grocery shop, she picked up jerky, hardtack, and water skins.
Her existing gear was worn and secondhand. For such a long journey, she wanted sturdy new equipment.
"This looks good."
Johann glanced around the general store and pointed to a few plain bowls. They were perfect for soup—simple, unadorned travel ware.
"They seem tough. And these plain designs are easy to clean."
"You talk like someone who's been around the block."
"I've got the travel bug bad—never been one to sit still long."
Johann even chimed in on emergency rations.
"Ten days, right?"
"We should pack for half a month to cover the worst case."
"No need for super hard stuff. That just wastes water soaking it. Get these finely chopped ones—instant soup fodder, super convenient."
"Makes sense."
"Salted ones. No need for extra salt."
The mage and Johann shopped together.
"Oh, accessories here. Anything magical?"
"No way. They'd never stock real enchanted stuff in a place like this. Just trinkets—nothing an adventurer would wear."
Johann picked up a white hair accessory shaped like a flower reminiscent of morning glories—a hair pin.
"Gift for the priest?"
"Nah. This is for you, Mage."
"What?"
The mage looked utterly baffled. Ignoring her, Johann held the pin up to her hair.
It suited her sea-blue locks perfectly, evoking a seagull resting on coastal rocks.
"You're joking too much."
"Dead serious. It looks great on you."
"The priest would cry. Take care of your girlfriend."
"Just a friendly gift between comrades. What, did you think otherwise?"
"You're way sleazier than you look."
"I'm serious. For real. You've got the hero, right? I'm not the type to hit on taken women."
Johann lied without batting an eye. Coming from a guy who'd impregnated a married woman in the Soul Community, it was rich.
Oblivious, the mage shook her head with a sour expression.
"Pass. Frilly junk like this doesn't suit me."
"Might not be your taste, but as a guy, I think it's killer. Wear it, and who knows—the hero might see you in a new light."
Mentioning the hero made the mage's ears perk up like a rabbit's.
Johann knew exactly how to grab a woman's attention. For her, Vints was the ultimate keyword.
"You think?"
"Absolutely. No man hates a beautiful woman. The hero likes the priest for the same reason."
His words soured her mood. It sounded like he was flat-out saying the priest was prettier. Logically, she got it—he was the priest's boyfriend—but it still stung.
"Hmph! Sorry I'm so ugly."
"No, you're beautiful too, Mage."
"Enough bootlicking."
"If I'd met you first, I'd have confessed to you nine times out of ten."
"Porter, your mouth runs too loose. I hate flatterers."
"It's the truth. You've got what it takes to steal the hero from her."
"If that's true, why does he look at the priest, not me? Even you confessed to her. Hmm... Guess my womanly charms fall short."
"The priest has that easygoing vibe that puts men at ease. Probably hit him hard. Anyway, change up your look, and he might notice you. Try this."
Johann offered the pin. Grumbling, the mage took it and pinned it in her hair.
She'd never worn accessories like this. No enchantments—just a distraction in battle.
"Suits you perfectly. Your boyfriend's got impeccable taste. Ha ha!"
The shopkeeper bolted over like lightning, laying on the flattery. The mage's eyes narrowed.
"He's not my boyf—"
"Nice stuff. Any couple's discount?"
Johann cut in first.
"Of course! Buy now, 10% off. Not an everyday deal."
"We'll take it."
Johann paid on the spot. The mage puffed her cheeks in annoyance. He smirked and pressed a finger to his lips.
Outside, she smacked his back.
"Why the lie!? What if the priest or hero saw!?"
"Haha. Hero's still at the inn, right? Scored a bargain. Total win."
"Tch! I hate it. As if a hairpin will snag his attention..."
"If it makes him notice you even a little, mission accomplished. Build from there."
They returned to the inn. Already checked out, Vints and the priest waited in the first-floor dining hall.
But the mood between them was off—cold, like they'd argued.
"We're back."
Johann broke the ice with a greeting. The priest's stiff face instantly softened.
"Welcome back! Good work!"
The mage and Johann had gone shopping for gear. Vints and the priest sat in the inn's dining hall, waiting.
"Hero, still sore in your shoulder?"
"Yeah. Stings around the wound. But I can tough it out. Need proper healing in Start Village."
Checking Vints's arm was the priest's job. To him, she was the best potion.
Her gentle gaze chased away phantom pains. Still, he played up his injury for her attention.
"Priest. We need to talk."
"About what?"
"The party."
Vints started gravely. Since losing his arm, his usual playfulness had vanished.
"The porter's not needed anymore. Let's cut him loose."
The priest's smiling face froze.
"What do you mean?"
"Exactly that. He was never really one of us. Once we hit Start Village for real adventures, he's dead weight."
She tilted her head.
"Isn't it the opposite? You're not at full strength—you need his help. Why kick him out?"
"Even like this, I'm stronger than before. Party's fine without him."
"But..."
"Priest. Why defend him?"
Her protectiveness sharpened his tone. But she didn't flinch.
"He's our comrade. Hiring him then ditching him out of nowhere? Doesn't make sense. Why do you want him gone? Don't like him?"
I hate him. Despise him.
The words rose in his throat, but Vints calmed himself. Steadying his breath, he continued.
"He's baggage for the party."
"No. He's not. If you insist on kicking him, I'll go too."
Vints bit his lip.
"Priest! What's with that attitude!? We're comrades! Why side with some random guy!? You looking down on me now!?"
He slammed the table.
"Hero, why get so violent..."
Seeing her flinch, he reined himself in. The commotion drew stares.
He glared; they turned away like mice before a cat.
"Haa... Sorry, Priest. Got too worked up. The bad stuff's got me anxious. Really sorry."
His quick apology earned a nod.
"I get it. Anyway, porter's one of us. He saved my life. Can't just toss him."
"...Fine. Got it."
Vints replied bitterly. Just then, the shoppers returned.
"We're back."
The priest beamed at Johann.
"Welcome back! Good work!"