Expecting My Praise?
Did she expect my praise?
A day in the swamp was an endless cycle of repetition. Hunt, move, hunt again, move again, hunt once more. Trudging through the bottomless mud, stepping in stagnant pools, pushing through thick underbrush with a load on my back—it wore down the mind more than the body.
"Huff… huff, huff…"
My breath rose to the back of my throat. But afraid the party members ahead might hear, I swallowed even my coughs. Ironically, stifling it like that only made me more exhausted.
We'd left the massive pack beast Krubal at the outpost on the swamp's outskirts before entering. Even carrying just the four party members' essentials felt like hauling reinforced concrete. My whole body weighed a ton.
Suddenly jumping into this job is gonna kill me…
No time for a sigh before a rustling sound and sharp splash came from beyond the muck.
Soon, monsters emerged, splashing through the mud.
Again… Eighth time now?
They had sickly greenish reptilian skin, long slit mouths, and bodies about as big as a grown man's waist. Not the swamp lizards we were hunting, but some lesser pack.
"Everyone, behind me!"
Bolcas the warrior's voice boomed across the swamp as he drew his hand axe. He took point, and archer Pardel swiftly climbed a tree trunk to claim high ground. Mage Lijel opened her spellbook, mana light glowing in her palm. Priestess Minerri murmured a prayer, a pure white barrier beginning to envelop us.
And from the very back—Estel strummed her lute and began to sing.
"Ahhh—let great footsteps resound upon this land—♩"
It was March of Valor, a battle song adventurers knew well. It boosted morale, granting temporary increases to physical and magical attack power while stirring strength and courage.
Estel's powerful voice rode the wind across the entire battlefield. In this sticky space thick with mud stench, humidity, and swarming insects, hers was the one cool, refreshing sound.
Her singing… not bad.
Better than expected. For a fresh Singing Novice, there was nothing to nitpick. Steady breathing, lyrics clear and undistorted. Catchy, in simple terms. But what I liked most was the unforced feel. No contrived prettiness, no overdone emotional push. Some rookies scream "I'm singing!" with their whole body, but not her. Relaxed. Natural. Like it flowed out as easily as breathing.
So it was pleasant to hear.
Even I'm getting a surge of energy I didn't have.
As I realized I was unconsciously critiquing her melody, I caught myself evaluating. I'd had zero intention of paying attention, but it drew me in despite myself.
Though… she could ease up on the power a bit.
Before meeting my three disciples who left me, I'd been a novice adventurer scraping by with a crappy sword. The day I fell into this world, I gained one inexplicable ability. So I resolved: I'll live right, using this power.
I called it discrepancy perception.
When my own actions—or anyone else's—deviated from the flow, I instinctively sensed "that's wrong," without knowing why. No logic or technique behind it… but the fixes it pointed to were always eerily spot-on.
The ability worked in battle and daily life. If my swordplay felt off, I'd notice and correct it instantly. Not something I could wield freely—it came sporadically, like chance. Still, my technique sharpened day by day, and I grew bit by bit.
Then I met my three disciples. Up till then, I knew little of song and cared less. But getting tangled with them pulled me in. I had to teach. They expected it.
Sing it slower.
Empty your mind before climbing to high notes.
If the lyrics don't hit, imagine singing for someone specific.
Miss the beat? Restart like casual conversation.
Don't hold back here—belt it out.
Tense? Look up. Widening your view changes everything.
No expert knowledge, but my advice was precise and exceptional. Lilfrea, Maribel, and Clara exploded in growth daily.
But in the end… ruin. Collapse. Betrayal. Backstabbed.
Damn…
Yesterday's memories surged, emotions churning. Rage boiled up, I forced it down; disappointment rose, suppressed it; absurdity piled on, barely contained. Repeat.
While the party fought the monsters, my mind replayed only Lilfrea, Maribel, and Clara's cruel faces.
Was parting that easy for you? Chilling…
We'd been together a while, after all. Not a second's hesitation. Eerily cold betrayal.
"Hey, Seru. What're you doing?"
Lost in thought, I startled and looked up. Bolcas stood there, his axe dripping crimson blood over his shoulder. The fight was over.
"Tired?"
He clapped my arm with a grin.
"Already wanna head home?"
"No. Body's just stiff from getting back into work after so long. I'll adapt."
I quickly spun my arm energetically.
"Don't drop. Real work starts now."
"Got it. I'll do my best."
I forced a smile, but my heart stayed heavy. The damage from those three cut deeper and sharper than expected. Time or new focus wouldn't heal it easily.
I drew a deep breath, shoving down the welling emotions once more.
I looked up, watching the party's mud-caked backs as they trudged onward. Slinging my load again, I followed.
Your sincerity received loud and clear. I won't… ever seek you out again.
Gripping the strap tighter, I clenched my teeth silently. My steps were heavy in the mire, but each carried firm resolve. No looking back. I'd endure alone to the end.
No more walking side by side with you on this path.
Won't beg you to return, so rot out of my head.
I'll live straight on my own.
"Good work, everyone!"
My hearty shout echoed across the Adventurer's Guild plaza. The red sunset dipped low, evening settling into the streets. After the grueling day, I collapsed like an exhausted soldier right there on the ground.
"You were pretty useful today."
Bolcas chuckled, thumping my back.
"Hunting again the day after tomorrow. Join if you're free."
"Really? Thanks!"
He must've liked me. Nodding with a grin, he shouldered his massive axe and sauntered off.
Settlement was quick. My cut was far less than the others', but five shiny silver coins landed in my palm. The solid weight chased away the day's fatigue. Energy surged.
Back to the inn for a cold beer and crash.
Pardel passed, ruffling his messy hair.
"Keep up better next time. Hate a slow porter."
Dry tone, but his eyes were softer than before. I nodded with a smile.
"Sure."
Lijel followed, still clutching her spellbook, glancing down impassively.
"…Load stayed steady. Felt secure."
A tossed-off line. Not exactly warm, but it lifted my mood anyway.
"Thanks. Safe travels."
Minerri approached next, offering a warm hand with a gentle smile.
"You worked hard today. Made it light for us."
I brushed off my pants and clasped her soft hand.
"Nice meeting you."
The party dispersed one by one to their lodgings. Dusk crept into the alleys as magic streetlamps flickered on.
Then—a familiar silhouette loitering by the guild entrance caught my eye.
Bard Estel. She'd finished Bolcas's errand and was searching for someone. We two hadn't said goodbye amid the bustle. I'd dodged her busily.
All bards are my enemies still… especially the cheerfully smiling ones.
Petty as it was, I bolted up, heading to return the Krubal.
At the guild's pack beast station, the handler emerged with the bill.
"Three silvers."
Damn. After hauling like a dog all day, down to two silvers left. Half gone. I sighed deeply.
"How am I ever gonna save up…"
Shoulders slumped, I trudged to the inn, swamp grime caked everywhere. Uneven cobblestones, dried mud flaking off my shoes and pants with each step. Passersby glanced sidelong.
"Gotta wash up in the room… ugh."
Craved that beer and bed, but chores loomed.
Then—quick footsteps from behind, and a call.
"Seru!"
Familiar voice. I scowled.
Why's she following…
"Seru, wait! Just talk…!"
I stopped. Turned slowly. Under the night sky, magic lamplight illuminated Estel, lute case slung over one shoulder, panting hard. Her already pretty face glowed whiter, lovelier in the light.
"What."
Trying to keep emotion out made my tone icy.
"Just a sec. Huff, huff—let's talk."
"About what? We said hi."
"No, not that…"
She steadied her heaving chest with slow breaths, cleared her throat softly with a fist to her lips. Resolve flashed in her eyes, gaze unwavering on me.
"You said nothing about my singing all day. Everyone else was impressed, but you stared elsewhere, or off doing your own thing far away. Was it… bad? Did I fall short of expectations? It bugged me the whole day!"
What?
"…Huh?"
What the hell is this? Did she expect my praise?