Chapter 54: Partner (2)
Chapter 54: Partner (2)
Translation: Godtl
Litchfield Square was packed with crowds welcoming the heroes who had come for the Red Moon.
It was so densely packed you couldn't even find a place to set your foot down.
"Waaaaah! They're coming! The heroes of Britannia are coming!"
With someone's shout, the square erupted in fervent cheers and heat.
From the windows of the buildings surrounding the square, flower petals and colorful confetti fluttered down, and merchants handed out free drinks and snacks at their hastily set-up stalls, shouting at the top of their lungs.
This was the kind of festive excitement and fervor that filled the Red Moon period.
It was undoubtedly a dangerous event, but perhaps the atmosphere had shifted since Britannia's large-scale 'Great Subjugation.'
So today, even the adventurers dressed their best and lost themselves in the revelry.
They accepted flowers handed to them by young ladies, danced to the marching tunes, and waved their hands.
But among the marching crowd, one group stood out, drawing all eyes.
"Look at that! It's the Six Heroes of the Great Subjugation!"
"Where, where?!"
"They say five of them came for this Red Moon!"
The six heroes who had achieved the most dazzling results during the Great Subjugation.
Shortened to the Six Heroes of the Great Subjugation.
Though they might feel bad for the other excited adventurers, the truth was that most of this massive crowd had come to see them.
"Waaaah! It's really them! It's the 'Silent Sword Saint'!"
"He's the one who beheaded the Abyss Whale with a single sword stroke!"
"Kyaaah kyaaah! Sir Kailus! Please accept my handkerchief!"
The Silent Sword Saint, Kailus.
A wandering swordsman from the eastern continent.
Despite his handsome features and flamboyant attire, he was an 8th-Rank Knight who had earned his fearsome reputation with a merciless sword style.
"Can you feel it? My popularity? Life as a celebrity is exhausting, I tell you."
Kailus blew kisses mostly to the pretty young ladies, puffing himself up as he glanced at his companions.
"The festival atmosphere is as lively as ever."
"Every time we come here, it feels like a completely different neighborhood, doesn't it?"
But none of his companions paid him any attention.
"Ladies, don't just play among yourselves—how about showing this old man some love?"
Kailus pouted slightly.
"I still don't get why they call you the Silent Sword Saint. Narcissist Sword Saint would fit you better. I've never seen that mouth of yours stay shut."
The woman with fiery red hair who ruthlessly mocked Kailus was none other than the 'Queen of Monsters,' Ravina.
The strongest 'Tamer' on the continent and a legendary mercenary, her bold personality and striking beauty had earned her an unusually large female fanbase.
"Sir Kailus, your frivolous behavior never fails to fall below my already low expectations."
Her pristine white robes complemented her delicate, pale complexion and short hair, giving her an almost divine beauty.
Stella, the 'Star Saintess' specially dispatched from the Papal Court, also backed Ravina up.
"You're being too harsh... We haven't seen each other in so long..."
"Kailus, you always give off the impression of never even breaking even."
A hearty old man clapped Kailus on the shoulder as he sulked—'Iron Mountain,' Elder Brok.
Though he was called an elder, his towering height of 2.3 meters and full-body armor made Kailus's body jolt every time his massive palm moved.
Kailus protested against his companions' sharp criticism.
"I'm at that age, you know? Shouldn't I be thinking about settling down?"
"And that's coming from the bastard who fled his own wedding three times?"
"What can I do? My soul is too free to be bound! My life can't exist without romance!"
"Romance my ass, just give me back the congratulatory money I sent you! I sent it faithfully all three times—I must be a damn fool!"
Even Elder Brok of Iron Mountain, who could supposedly block any attack, couldn't shield Kailus from this level of disgrace.
"Wait, Kailus. You actually pulled that kind of insane stunt? Hold on, I never got an invitation."
"Elder Brok, consider yourself lucky you didn't receive one."
"Did you attend too, Saintess?"
"I went as a guest all three times, only to return empty-handed each time. Sir Kailus is the most hopeless adult I've ever met."
"That's too harsh, little Stella. Weren't you adorable back then, following me around calling me 'Mister'...? Don't you remember?"
"Yes, that's a memory I'd like to carve out of my life."
Any citizen expecting solemn, heroic dialogue before battle would have been sorely disappointed by this exchange.
But regardless of what anyone said, these were the elite who had achieved glorious feats during the Great Subjugation years ago.
Veterans who had hunted not just 'Disaster-class' but multiple 'Annihilation-class' monsters.
Perhaps their tension-free banter was proof of their veteran status?
"Anyway... It's been two years since we've all gathered like this, hasn't it? How nostalgic."
"Can't really say we're all here. Han-bin's missing."
"Why bring up that stingy bastard? He hasn't shown his face since the Great Subjugation. We should remove him from the Six Heroes lineup. Gah!"
Ravina smacked Kailus on the back of his head.
"You're the one who should leave. Han-bin's a hundred times better than you."
"I wish we had Sir Han-bin instead of someone like Sir Kailus who has nothing worthy of respect."
"Oof."
True to his reputation as a swift swordsman, Kailus quickly noticed the renewed barrage of criticism and adeptly shifted the focus.
Fortunately, he had the perfect topic at hand.
"By the way, where's Lady Isolde? I don't see her."
The Witch of the Western Border, who had monitored the Spirit Demon Realm for centuries.
Isolde Blackwood, one of the Six Heroes who had arrived with them yesterday, had mysteriously disappeared from the procession.
"Now that you mention it, I didn't see her at breakfast either."
"When I went to her room this morning, she kicked me out saying she had a bad hangover."
"Lady Isolde with a hangover? That's got to be a lie. She probably just couldn't be bothered to come, right? That woman..."
"Still, Lady Isolde is far better than Sir Kailus."
Despite his efforts, Stella persistently hounded Kailus.
"At least she doesn't make the same mistake three times."
"I said I'm sorry..."
It seemed he'd truly earned her resentment after ruining that last wedding.
Jurgen examined the note in his hand once more.
[Han-bin Ainsworth, come to the clock tower in the square by midnight]
Just a single line on plain white paper anyone might use.
Not even handwritten—typed to conceal the writer's identity.
He had no clue who sent it, and the note itself offered no clues.
Had the content been ordinary, he might have dismissed it as an elaborate prank.
But the recipient was listed as 'Jurgen = Han-bin'—someone knew.
While their identity remained unknown, their intent was somewhat clear.
An ambush seemed unlikely.
Why go through such trouble to summon him to the clock tower?
Tonight was the eve of the festival before Red Moon.
Even as midnight approached, Litchfield Square—where the clock tower stood—was packed with increasingly drunk revelers.
If they wanted to attack, they'd have caught him off guard elsewhere, not atop the clock tower where any fight would immediately draw attention.
"...Too obvious."
Jurgen smoothed his fluttering collar and glanced at his watch.
He hadn't gone straight to the clock tower.
Instead, he'd taken position on the rooftop of the Litchfield Hotel overlooking the belfry.
He understood they likely didn't intend to fight.
He understood there might be room for dialogue.
But his cover was already blown.
There was no harm in being cautious.
If he deemed them dangerous, he'd snipe them from here and interrogate them later.
"..."
Thirty seconds to midnight.
He steadied his breathing, keeping watch for any suspicious movement near the clock tower.
Then—
"Naughty child. This isn't the meeting place, is it?"
A voice like a fairy's—mysterious and sudden—drifted down from above him.
"Did you really think I'd let you poke holes in my plans after playing such a trick?"
"Haah."
Jurgen sighed.
Turning, he found exactly who he'd expected standing there.
Lush green hair like wet grass, half-lidded olive eyes.
A large cloak draped over a thin linen shirt and a wide-brimmed pointed hat.
The very image one would conjure when thinking of a so-called "witch."
Despite her youthful appearance, her languid eyes held the gravitas of facing an ancient dragon—an aura of timeless dignity.
And a faint trace of warmth.
"It seems you haven't changed, even after all this time."
"Has it been that long? It's only been a few years."
Of course.
The woman before him was Isolde Blackwood, the Witch of the Western Border.
She was a 9th-Rank Alchemist, older than Britannia itself, and one of the few people Han-bin addressed with formal respect.
"For most, a few years is a long time."
"Is that so?"
And she was also Han-bin's mentor.
The two moved to Isolde's guest room.
There was no need to go far.
Just below the rooftop was the hotel's top floor—her suite.
As the central figure of this Red Moon, Isolde was a VIP the Litchfield Hotel couldn't afford to disappoint.
The high-ceilinged suite, adorned with a chandelier, exuded an air of refined extravagance.
"So, how have you been?"
Isolde sank into the sofa, leaning back without a care.
No fuss, no glancing around.
That was just how she was.
Whether in the finest hotel in the North, its most luxurious suite dripping with wealth—
Or in a ramshackle hut reeking of dried herbs—
Isolde was always Isolde Blackwood.
From the very first time they met, right up to this moment.
"How did you know?"
"Know what?"
"That I was Han-bin."
It was puzzling.
The Polymorph Potion wasn't flawless, but she had only arrived in Nortaris a day or two ago.
There had been no point of contact, yet she had tracked down Jurgen, uncovered his identity, and even left a note.
Not even Sherlock could've pulled that off.
"This."
Isolde rested her chin on the armrest and shook the cola bottle.
"The 'cola' you kept singing about wanting to drink when we first met. From your homeland—what was it called again?"
"Earth."
"...Ah, right. Earth's drink, wasn't it? Not bad. Had a novel taste."
"It's been doing well lately."
He didn't go around shouting about being from Earth or wanting to go home anymore.
But back when he first fell into this world, things had been different.
The eighth floor of the Spirit Demon Realm—a place teeming with deadly monsters.
Han-bin had been dropped into the worst possible starting point in another world.
By sheer chance, Isolde, who had been patrolling the Demon Realm, had rescued him.
She had provided shelter and food for the lost Han-bin, taught him the language and script.
She had carved out pieces of her own wisdom to help him build a foundation for survival in this world.
For a long time, he had whined about wanting to return home...
So it made sense that seeing cola would lead her straight to Han-bin.
No one knew Han-bin as well as Isolde did.
And Han-bin, too, regarded her as his savior.
"Starting a business selling food from your homeland all of a sudden—did nostalgia get to you?"
"Britannia is my home now."
"I suppose so. You are a patriot."
"..."
"It's nice to see your face."
"..."
"Ah, don't worry. I haven't told anyone you're Han-bin. And I won't."
"I see."
Yet an unspoken chill lingered in the conversation.
There was warmth—it had been years, after all.
But Jurgen found this reunion uncomfortable.
Not that Isolde would care, of course.
That was just how she was.
The savior who had rescued his life.
The mentor who had given him kindness without expectation.
One of the "Seven Heroes" whose back he could trust in the Demon Realm.
The witch who, in her own clumsy way, had poured affection onto Han-bin.
And yet—
"Is Viche doing well?"
—the same indifference and terrifying apathy toward everything but Han-bin.
Isolde would not hesitate to sacrifice anything for Han-bin's sake—
Even if it wasn't what Han-bin himself wanted.
"...That's not something you should be asking, Master."
His voice turned cold before he could stop it.
"Ah."
Isolde let out a low sigh.
"Is that how it is in this situation? My apologies."
She tilted her head with an innocent gaze.
Even as she spoke the words, her expression still seemed unsure.
That was just how she was.