The Festival's Bitter Harvest
Quest (7) “What happened?” Leon asked as he sat down at the table, having finished his investigation. I answered casually while spooning stew into my mouth. “Nothing much.”
“Nothing much…” Leon turned his head slightly at my words. His gaze fell on Chris, who lay face-down without so much as twitching. I offered a calm explanation. “It’s just that the gamble of a lifetime went up in smoke.”
“Miss Chris? Are you all right?”
“…I’m fine.” Chris sighed as she pushed herself up. Pressing her temples, she slowly began to speak. “It seems the wine reserves are still overflowing, contrary to my expectations.”
“Of course they are.”
“Yes. Demand for wine has hit rock bottom. I was told, ‘Trying to sell wine in the village of grapes? Have you lost your mind?’”
“That would be the normal reaction.”
What Chris was attempting was no different from trying to sell ice in a snowy region. She might feel wronged, having acted on information about an impending heatwave, but what could be done? Success makes one a hero; failure makes one a traitor.
Leon spoke with great caution. “Did you… lose all the money?”
“It’s still all right for now. Wine has a long shelf life. There will be opportunity costs and storage fees, and various losses when converting the wine back into gold, but we haven’t gone completely bankrupt.”
“That’s a relief.”
This was why traveling merchants needed to deal in goods they could hold onto even in failure. Items that had to be sold immediately could ruin one’s life if mishandled.
With Chris’s story more or less concluded, I placed the lamp on the table and said, “So, Sir Leon, how did it go?”
“Well…” After confirming the sound-dampening magic was active, Leon glanced briefly at Chris. He seemed hesitant to discuss the Holy Grail in her presence, but it was an overreaction. The search for the Holy Grail wasn’t some top-secret mission assigned only to Leon; hundreds of people had already set out to find it. In my opinion, rumors that the Church had dispatched paladins in droves would soon spread far and wide. There was no reason to hide it. Of course, there was no reason to shout it from the rooftops either, but Chris had grown quite close to us over the past fortnight. It wouldn’t hurt to share an interesting story with a young person whose life had just fallen apart. Who knew? She might come up with some clever idea based on her merchant experience.
Perhaps Leon had the same thought. He took a small breath and continued. “The investigation revealed… an ordinary vineyard.”
“That’s remarkably low on substance for ten minutes of buildup.”
“I hesitated for only three seconds.”
“It felt like ten minutes to me.”
“Miss Ruina? Sir Leon? What are you two talking about?”
There was nothing quite so disheartening as being left out of a conversation. I explained the matter of the Holy Grail to Chris. She stroked her chin and muttered, “A search for the Holy Grail, is it?”
“Any guesses?”
“What are the characteristics of the Holy Grail?”
“Immortality, healing, abundance, purification, and wisdom.”
“Hmm.” Chris crossed her arms and fell into thought. This was unrelated to the current topic, but every single one of her gestures was distinctly feminine. Quite different from a man’s. She tried to pass as male by stroking her chin (as if she had once had a beard to shave) and using a stiff tone, but I wasn’t sure how effective it was. The fact that people were fooled suggested it worked to some degree. Yet her hair reached her shoulders in a short cut, and her face was that of a classic beauty—why did anyone fall for it? Was the voice really that important? Or was it the lack of a chest? A flat chest would make sense, at least.
After a long silence, Chris uncrossed her arms and whispered, “There’s a rumor about a hot spring in the northern empire that’s good for the body, but that’s a bit of a stretch, isn’t it?”
“That’s good enough.”
We weren’t exactly investigating with solid leads anyway. Any rumor was welcome.
“Our next destination is decided, then.” I met Leon’s eyes. It was a silent question of agreement, and he nodded quietly.
“Belmonte Winterhaven was already my next destination.”
“Really?”
“Several people in the Church have mentioned recovering from chronic illnesses after bathing in the hot springs there.”
My eyes widened in surprise. “Is that true?”
“I have no reason to lie. The hot springs of Whitehaven clearly possess some mysterious power.”
“No, not that. The Church can’t cure chronic illnesses? They can heal full-body burns.”
When I asked out of genuine curiosity why an organization capable of regenerating limbs couldn’t treat chronic conditions, Leon scratched his forehead. “That’s what you were wondering about?”
“Anyone would wonder. I’m not the strange one here.”
“Holy arts specialize in healing physical trauma and diseases like plagues. Ordinary illnesses, including chronic conditions, fall under the domain of healers.”
“Ah.” I understood now. If the Church monopolized everything, the healers would starve, so they’d applied a balance patch? They should have said so sooner. “…You understood correctly, didn’t you?”
“Of course.” There was no one who understood the structure of this world better than I did. He could trust me.
———.
At the sound of drums from outside, I turned and leaned against the window. People wandered the streets singing, each holding grapes and wine. It seemed this was how Shade Grapeton celebrated the harvest festival—by enjoying the year’s grapes in this manner. Keeping my eyes on the street, I asked Leon, “When will you depart?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll continue my inquiries, but I don’t plan to stay long. I intend to leave before the festival ends.”
“I see.”
Whoosh. I changed the sound-dampening magic into an ordinary flame and stood up.
“Where are you going?”
“It would be a waste not to enjoy the festival.”
Leaving the two of them behind, I made my way out of the inn.
“Hey! It’s illegal to walk around the streets empty-handed!”
The moment I stepped outside, someone called out to me. It was a middle-aged man with a thick beard. Smiling, he handed me a bottle of wine and a glass. Accepting them, I moved my lips. “How much?”
“It’s fine. You look like an outsider—enjoy yourself to the fullest.”
“Thank you.”
Festivals really were the best. Everyone’s generosity increased. I poured the wine from the bottle into the glass and brought it to my nose. The aroma was exquisite—it had been made with great care from high-quality grapes. This was top-tier wine? And they were just giving it away? I looked up to find the middle-aged man, but the wave of the crowd had long since swallowed him. There was nothing to be done. Feeling guilty about merely offering verbal thanks, I had planned to show off my ultimate flame performance, but that would have to wait.
———!
Someone began singing, and soon everyone joined in cheerfully. The first essential element of any festival: song. Since everyone sang the same tune, it must have been a traditional song passed down in Shade Grapeton. Then people began to dance. The second essential element: dance. There was no formal structure; everyone simply swayed their bodies while singing.
“Isn’t that the God of Chess?!”
“Hello.”
“Do you know who that is? The Devil of Chess, who copies his opponent’s signature opening to demonstrate the gap in skill!”
“If you ask for the greatest chess player in history, look up at the lamp.”
The third essential element of any festival: new connections. This was what a festival was. I wished every day of the year could be a festival.
“Put your money where your mouth is!”
I headed toward the source of the voice. There, a sly-looking man and a bronze-skinned, muscular man were drumming up customers with an amusing proposition.
“Win an arm-wrestling match against this muscular gentleman, and I’ll give you one gold coin!”
“I’ll give it a try.”
A challenger appeared quickly—a large, confident-looking man. At his arrival, the sly man rubbed his hands together and smiled. “The entry fee is one silver coin.”
“Here.”
The large man paid the fee and took his position. Five seconds later, he lost. The bronze-skinned man kissed his own muscles in a showy display. “Next?”
People only glanced at one another, unmoving. It was natural—no one wanted to throw their money away.
“Me.”
So here I was, stepping in. I sat down at the table and set the lamp aside.
“Miss, are you sure you understand what this is?”
“It’s arm wrestling.”
“And you understand you have to pay one silver coin as an entry fee?”
“Here.”
When I took out a silver coin and handed it over, the sly man narrowed his eyes. “Just a moment.”
Instead of accepting the coin, he approached the bronze-skinned man and whispered, “That woman’s strange. She might be a knight.”
“I used to be a squire myself. I can tell if she uses mana.”
“You sure?”
After their strategy meeting, the sly man returned to me with another smile. “One silver coin entry fee received.”
I sat in the chair and assumed my position. The bronze-skinned man did the same. When I extended my hand, he flinched mid-grasp. He had noticed the burn scars.
“I’m ready.”
At my calm voice, the bronze-skinned man’s expression hardened. His thoughts were clearly in turmoil. ‘Just what is this girl so confident about?’ The voice in his head was so vivid it felt as though he were speaking directly into my ear.
“All right, one, two—”
“Wait. Hans. Something’s off about her—”
“Three!”
I used all my strength to push the bronze-skinned man’s arm down. At the same time, I casually lifted my robe to reveal my face. His expression twisted into shock. No matter how much he had seen the burns on my hand, he could never have expected my face to look like this. It was a natural reaction. Having missed his chance to exert force, the bronze-skinned man’s arm was now subjected to my full power. The result was——.
“How’s my strength?”
“Uh, well.”
“Almost there.”
“Mmm.”
Thud. The bronze-skinned man, belatedly regaining his senses, pushed my arm down. For the record, his arm hadn’t moved even a millimeter despite my full effort.
“I lost.”
Disappointed, I stood up. The sly man and the bronze-skinned man immediately began another meeting.
“What was that woman?”
“I don’t know either. Her strength was that of an ordinary girl.”
“She was so confident I thought she was hiding something. Why did she even challenge us?”
Because my physical abilities were average but my ears were excellent. I heard their whispers clearly. Why had I challenged them? “It’s a festival. Of course I have to enjoy it.”
“The young lady’s got the right idea! It’s a festival—let’s enjoy it!”
Boom! It sounded like an explosion, but it was merely someone sitting down. The culprit was a large, muscular middle-aged man whose humanity was questionable. Perhaps an ogre half-blood.
“Pardon?”
“Here, take the entry fee.”
“Pardon?”
I left the arm-wrestling gambling table and returned to the street. I felt sorry for the two men who would soon lose a gold coin, but that was how gambling worked. There were times to win and times to lose. I strolled beneath the clear autumn sky. A lukewarm breeze, blending summer and autumn, cooled my sweat, while lamps illuminated the gradually darkening world below. I closed my eyes and felt the wind. This refreshing sensation—perhaps it was a sign that only good things lay ahead?
It felt right.
*
“Miss Ruina! Something terrible has happened! All my wine has been stolen!”
“Oh dear.”
So it wasn’t a festival after all—it was a funeral. A moment of silence for all involved.