Chapter 67: Behemoth (9)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 67: Behemoth (9)
Cloud uncorked the wine.
The deep aroma of the wine wafted through the air.
Aged for a full 140 years, its scent was rich yet subtle.
The wine, poured into a glass, glowed a bright crimson.
“Wow, you can tell the expensive stuff is different just by looking at it. This is nothing like the wine from the pub.”
“This wine was stored for 140 years in a cellar with a clean flow of mana. It's an insult to even compare it to what you'd find in a common pub. The Duke certainly went out of his way for us.”
Wine of this quality was exceptionally expensive. In the kingdom, a viscount couldn't even dream of touching it, and only a wealthy count might own a single bottle.
Of course, in the Empire, a baron might own several bottles, but this was the kingdom, after all.
To offer something like this so readily—and not for a banquet or formal dinner, but for a private drink between guests—was a sign of considerable goodwill.
“I guess they couldn't exactly offer you cheap stuff when the next head of the Ferdiac family demanded some wine.”
“...I applied no such pressure.”
Seeing Frillite's sullen expression, Cloud chuckled and poured wine into his own glass.
“Just kidding. They're probably feeling guilty. Public opinion is in the gutter after what happened, so they can't afford to get on the Hero's bad side, can they?”
“Was it truly the case that the Oller Ducal Family locked the castle gates?”
“Yeah. Public sentiment is pretty hostile because of it. I bet there are quite a few knights who resent them for it, too.”
Not to mention the soldiers.
Cloud tilted the wineglass to his lips. He let the wine rest in his mouth for a moment, savoring the taste.
Hmm. It just tastes like wine.
Then again, I'm no wine sommelier. How would I know the difference?
Whether it was expensive or cheap, as long as it passed a certain threshold, all wine tasted the same to him. He swallowed the mouthful of wine.
Placing the glass on the small, round table, he said, “Alright, time to spill it.”
“Are you still on about that? I thought you said you wouldn't ask any more questions before we came to the castle.”
“Not that.”
Cloud shook his head.
“I saw the bodies scattered around the Behemoth. The look on your face on the way back... it was because of them, wasn't it?”
Frillite, whose lips had parted slightly, closed her mouth.
Cloud gently patted her on the back as if to comfort her.
“If something's bothering you, let it out. Isn't that what friends are for?”
Frillite’s lips curved into a small smile. Then, the smile vanished, replaced by a serious expression. Unlike Cloud, she didn't savor the wine, downing it in one gulp.
“The Behemoth was strong.”
“Yeah.”
“Its roar rattled my skull, its stomp shook the earth, and a single swipe of its foot tore dozens of soldiers to pieces.”
“That's insane.”
“Yes, insane. But they were attacks I could have blocked. Others might not have been able to, but I could have stopped them. And yet, I didn't. I dodged. Do you know why?”
A frown creased Frillite’s forehead.
Her face was etched with profound self-loathing and guilt.
Instead of answering, Cloud quietly refilled her glass. She hadn't been looking for an answer anyway, so she continued.
“Because it would have created the possibility that I might fail to subjugate the Behemoth. I could block the hits, but my body would have accumulated damage.”
“So you regret it? That you weighed their lives on a scale of your own making?”
“No.”
Frillite shook her head firmly.
“I don't regret that decision. At the time, I judged it to be the right choice, and I still believe so. Even if I went back in time, my judgment wouldn't change.”
However, I can't shake the thought that if only I had been stronger, they wouldn't have had to die.
Frillite muttered with a bitter expression.
She, known as the strongest of the four Heroes, was blaming herself for her own weakness.
Cloud didn't like her attitude.
“Hey, let me ask you something. Have you ever, in your entire life, not done your absolute best? Have you ever slacked off?”
Frillite tilted her head as if wondering why he would ask such a thing.
Still, she answered his question earnestly.
“I believe I have always done my best. Though, looking back now, I can see there were often better ways.”
“Sure, there might have been better ways. But you didn't know them at the time, and you did your best. The strength you have now is the result of living that way, of always giving your all. So why are you blaming it? Why are you condemning the fruits of your labor?”
“...”
“Sometimes... no, I always think this. You're too strict with yourself. You have a tendency to push yourself too hard. That's a really bad habit, you know? People like that... they usually don't have good endings.”
In the past, Cloud had a companion, a swordsman who was with him from the very beginning. The swordsman had no talent for the blade. What others grasped in an hour, he had to train for ten hours to understand.
Everyone told him to just give up and go home.
It wasn't to belittle him or out of some clumsy pity. They said it because they were genuinely worried.
But the swordsman didn't go back. Every time he heard those words, he would secretly increase his training time, pushing his body to its limits.
After pushing and punishing himself like that, the swordsman finally made a beautiful flower bloom, one called fruition.
And not long after it bloomed, that flower withered and died.
To this day, Cloud still doesn't know what drove him to push himself so hard. The swordsman was always reluctant to speak of his past.
He just thinks it was foolish.
No matter how hard you try to make a flower bloom, what's the point if it withers right away?
Who will remember a flower that wilted the moment it bloomed? The people who watched from the side? They don't remember the moment of its beautiful bloom, but the moment it withered.
And every time they remember that withered flower, they suffer.
“Many people died. They were someone's son, someone's husband, someone's father. One person's death causes many others to shed tears. If I can lessen those tears, even a little, isn't it worth pushing myself?”
“What if something happens to you? What about the people who will cry for you?”
People who would cry for me?
At Cloud's words, the first people Frillite thought of were her family.
Her father and mother.
Would they shed tears for her?
It didn't seem likely.
What about the people of her house?
Thinking of the members of her family, Frillite shook her head again. She couldn't imagine those bleak people crying for her.
Frillite sipped her wine in silence for a moment.
Gazing at her reflection on the wine's surface, she asked in a small voice, “If something were to happen to me... would you cry for me?”
“Yeah. I will. I'll cry so much I could make a river with my tears.”
An immediate answer, without a hint of hesitation.
Frillite let out a small laugh and turned her head toward Cloud.
“Joking at a time like this...”
Her words trailed off.
His face, which she had expected to be full of mischief, was completely serious, without a trace of a smile.
It even looked a little sad.
“I'm not joking. If you don't want to see me die of dehydration, you'd better take care of yourself.”
The withered flower in Cloud's heart wasn't just the swordsman. His heart was filled with more flowers than he could count.
And he didn't want to add another one here.
“Heehee.”
Cloud, who had fallen asleep slumped over the small round table, made a strange noise. Several empty wine bottles lay scattered around them.
Frillite stared intently at the sleep-talking Cloud.
It was strange.
Just looking at him, without doing anything else, made her feel at ease.
It wasn't like this at first.
How had it come to this?
It was nothing short of ironic.
Smiling as she watched him, Frillite recalled his words from just a few hours ago.
'If you don't want to see me die of dehydration, you'd better take care of yourself.'
It was a strange sort of threat, one where he put his own life up as collateral.
And he was completely serious.
Even thinking about it now, it was so absurd that she couldn't help but let out a dry laugh.
Still... it wasn't a bad feeling.
It meant he was genuinely worried about her.
That alone felt like it was filling the emptiness in her heart. Come to think of it, she never felt that usual emptiness when she was with him.
-Surely you aren't thinking of marrying Cloud, are you?
Lorian's words from earlier in the day.
Frillite briefly recalled the conversation she'd had with her father.
Her father, surprisingly, had viewed Frillite's proposal favorably. Part of it was that Frillite had chosen a day when her father seemed to be in a good mood, but that wasn't all.
The head of the Ferdiac Ducal Family was not a man to let something as trivial as emotion ruin his plans.
It was all calculated.
First, Cloud held the status of a Hero. It was not a station insufficient to be joined with Frillite.
And he was an orphan of commoner birth.
There would be no troublesome in-laws to disrupt the family. On top of that, Cloud himself had promised not to meddle in family affairs at all and to faithfully play the part of a kept husband.
His exceptional looks, which meant they wouldn't have to worry about the appearance of their future children, were an added bonus.
From Duke Ferdiac's perspective, he couldn't help but see Cloud as a rather decent son-in-law.
Therefore, Duke Ferdiac had said he would permit the marriage, provided Cloud performed a great deed and shed his "Incompetent Hero" moniker.
I'd never even considered marriage before.
Not until Cloud brought it up.
Honestly, even now, the word "marriage" left her feeling a little dazed.
Still, it's not a bad thought.
She felt that even in her bleak family, life could be quite enjoyable if Cloud were there with her.
Frillite wasn't worried about the condition Duke Ferdiac had set.
From what she had observed recently, Cloud was by no means incompetent. And today's events had proven it.
He would shake off a nickname like "Incompetent Hero" with ease.
As she continued to watch the sleeping Cloud, her gaze happened to fall on his hands.
Cloud's hands were fascinating.
They were rough like a warrior's, yet also fair and elegant.
Frillite stared at them blankly for a while before carefully moving her own hand. She rested it on top of his.
“...I must be drunk, too.”
Her face was hot and her heart was pounding. She was definitely drunk.
Very drunk.