The Burning Passion
After Meredith left, I began following the protagonist around, working alongside him. Since I had officially become a full-fledged mage, the mana circle within me was spinning vigorously, as if in agreement. Before Meredith departed, during our final practical lessons, a new ring had formed within my mana circle. The mana, which had previously traced a flat, two-dimensional circle, had swelled to create another concentric ring, eventually twisting at an angle to form a distinct, secondary loop. Watching this happen in real-time, Meredith had protested, "This is an achievement that even graduating students at elite magic academies barely manage. Do you think this makes any sense?" I couldn't answer her—I had no idea myself. I suppose only the protagonist would know.
As we diligently completed quests, we earned nicknames. Mine was "Regena." The protagonist’s, however, were things like "The Unbeliever," "The Blasphemer," and "Human Scum." Honestly, strictly speaking, this wasn't my fault. After our trip to Cresville, a rumor had spread that there was "an adventurer who keeps a squirrel beastkin as a slave." But the protagonist didn't care. Using slaves wasn't exactly a career-ending scandal for an adventurer. They say there are even adventurers who operate multiple parties consisting entirely of slaves. It’s essentially automated hunting. Compared to them, the protagonist was practically tame. Besides, one of the most important maxims for an adventurer is, "Use everything you can," so keeping a single slave wasn't a flaw at all.
The problem started when the rumor spread that "the squirrel beastkin is an apprentice nun." Just like on Earth, there was an unspoken rule in Edenia that one shouldn't mess with religious figures. One reason was that so few religious people were willing to form parties with adventurers that you had to keep your reputation spotless to recruit them. Another was that the temples spread across the country provided universal welfare. While being an adventurer sounds romantic, they are essentially the day laborers of the fantasy world. Their income is inconsistent, and there are days when they come up empty-handed. For those adventurers who strike out, the last line of defense is the free meals provided by the temples. Veterans who had relied on those meals in their rookie days naturally felt a sense of affection toward religious figures. The sentiment toward nuns, in particular, was almost akin to faith. Since kitchen work was often considered a woman's domain, nuns frequently handled it, and even otherwise, they were often the ones tasked with the menial labor of food distribution. There was another reason, too: a significant number of adventurers were orphans from orphanages. Even if not all adventurers were raised in them, most children raised in orphanages ended up walking the path of an adventurer. Without skills, capital, or connections, they had no choice but to rely on their own bodies, leaving them with no other options. Since the temples handled the role of orphanages in Edenia, it was only natural for adventurers to hold religious figures in high regard. The fact that child-rearing was also considered a woman's domain, and thus deeply tied to the nuns, hardly needed mentioning.
In conclusion, among adventurers, nuns were like gods, and the protagonist, who had enslaved such a nun, became the ultimate human scum. The protagonist couldn't overlook such notoriety, so he struggled desperately to avoid social death. However, no one would listen to a man who had already been branded an "unbeliever." He tried traveling with me, thinking he could clear things up himself, but there was no real success. It’s only natural—if a master and his slave show up and the slave says, "My master is truly kind. He gives me delicious food, a soft bed, and pretty clothes," who would believe that?
The protagonist seemed to realize that the situation had reached a point of no return, so he eventually gave up on trying to fix his reputation. Watching from the side, it even looked like he was starting to enjoy nicknames like "Unbeliever" or "Blasphemer." However, the storm of nicknames that had pushed him into a crisis was quelled quite anticlimactically. It happened when Baikin, the big brother of the adventurers, returned and said, "That’s not how it is." I truly felt the difference in the character he had built up over the years. Even though the misunderstanding was cleared, the fact that such a thing had happened was something people would remember for a long time. And so, the protagonist came to be called "The Unbeliever" at the guild. Though, the difference was that it was more of a playful nickname now. For the record, the nickname "Regena" given to me was apparently derived from the name of an angel captured by a demon. I’m glad my nickname was quickly forgotten. I would have been too embarrassed to walk around with my head held high.
"Oh, the Unbeliever is working hard again today."
"Good morning, little nun."
"Welcome, you human trash!"
As soon as I stepped into the guild, intense greetings welcomed us from all sides. The series of events triggered by the misunderstanding hadn't been entirely bad. It was good that the name of the protagonist, who had previously worked in silence, was now known throughout the guild. Before, he was just "that kid I see often," but now his perception had improved to that of a young man who diligently earned his keep. In a profession like adventuring, where one aims for a big score, the ability to extract information from rumors is crucial, but the protagonist had been weak in this area because he had always worked solo. That was resolved to some extent because of the commotion, which turned him into a celebrity that almost every adventurer knew. Now, people greeted him first, just like this.
The protagonist naturally joined the table of the man who had called him "human trash" and said, "Human trash? That’s a bit harsh, don't you think?"
"If you’re going to keep a nun around, you have to carry that much baggage to make it worth it. Isn't that right, Sister?"
"I’m not a nun, I’m a mage."
"I know, I know."
The adventurer laughed exaggeratedly, "Wahahaha!" It was the ultimate, signature first-greeting style of Hazel that was currently the biggest hit in the guild. I couldn't understand why this conversation was so funny, but everyone listening was laughing. Is being cheerful a required virtue for the profession of an adventurer?
"Any good leads?" the protagonist asked. The man thought for a moment before opening his mouth.
"Not a good lead, but a bad rumor."
That was the information we needed more. It was better for adventurers to move in a way that minimized losses. Since their bodies were their assets, once they lost their health, their pockets would become uncontrollably light. The protagonist pulled a coin from his chest. It was a silver coin. The man’s eyes went wide as he confirmed it.
"No. It’s not worth this much of a rumor."
"Just take it. Think of it as an advance."
"Ahem, hmm. Well, I won't refuse."
The man quietly took the coin the protagonist had slipped him. Both of them were so natural that it didn't look like their first time doing this.
"They say the Back Alleys are noisy these days."
"The Back Alleys? Isn't it always like that there?"
"It’s not just that. Several parties are currently tearing up the alleys, trying to find a newly opened dungeon."
"The gangs must be pretty annoyed. Is the rumor that a new dungeon opened true?"
"That’s not even certain..."
The man scratched his temple. It sounded like chasing clouds. It didn't seem like information worth that much, as the man had said. However, the protagonist’s expression was different. He looked like he had caught a tail.
"What are the Back Alleys?" I asked this time.
"Ah! Sister, you don't know the Back Alleys! Even this trash cherishes..."
"If you took the money, do the work," the protagonist cut him off. The man poked the protagonist once, saying, "You’re so shy," and then began his explanation.
The Back Alleys. It was, quite literally, the slum found in every city. However, it was said that because of the unique characteristics of Silverion, the city of adventurers, it had become an underworld where various factions competed for dominance. Beggar gangs, information guilds, street thugs, black market organizations, and eccentric shut-in mages. Even just listing the major categories filled one hand, and since these factions were constantly fighting each other, the administrative power that was already scarce had moved even further away, turning the area into a place where their own rules prevailed.
Listening to the explanation, I could roughly guess what the protagonist was thinking. A place where countless factions fought each other, making it impossible to properly manage their own territories. A place where fists were closer than the law, so if you had personal strength, you could live reasonably well. A place where dark figures who were reluctant to step into the world of light gathered. It was, quite literally, the perfect place for a thief to hide.
The protagonist seemed to think that the commotion in the Back Alleys was related to her. It felt like the time had finally come to put an end to the long, long ill-fated relationship between the protagonist and Onyxia.