Everything as It Should Be (7)
Looks like I was worried for nothing.
We crossed White Cat Ridge without any real trouble. No poison laced through the mist to leave us reeling, no enemies lurking in the fog to strike from cover. No traps that we could see. No strange encounters, either.
Granted, the beast attacks had not only kept coming — they had exploded in frequency — but even those tapered off once we put the ridge behind us.
It was not that the animals were gone. It simply felt as though they had decided to ignore us and move on.
That was my guess, based on the two or three predators that glanced our way and then turned sharply aside.
"Young Hunter, are you all right?"
Not that everyone was fine. The closer we drew to Ednium, the worse Dev's color became — proof enough that whatever waited there was no good memory.
Considering the way he had groaned and fretted in his sleep at night, the odds that he had been dreaming nightmares were more than fair.
"I-I'm fine."
I was starting to get worried. No — I was already very worried.
Dev was the sort of kid who could look expressive and still snap into a perfect poker face when it mattered. Right now, he was barely managing his face at all.
That ashen complexion said everything. What good was a blank expression when his eyes had gone so dull and dark?
"A blessing… You don't need one?"
"…I'm good. What's a blessing for, when I don't even keep a god?"
I was always regretting that I had stuck myself with this roleplay, but right now the regret cut deeper than usual. If it were not for the act, I would have rolled our Meat Dumpling up into a Happy Kimbap by now.
"The gods are generous even to those who do not believe in Them."
"I said I'm fine."
"Is that so…"
The Inquisitor had failed as well, for her part. Judging by the way she usually handled me, I half expected her to press harder — but her reaction after that made it clear she had no intention of doing so.
It was less that she did not want to help and more that she was weighing whether she even should. Like someone carefully feeling out the line with a person she had only just started to get close to.
"Getting a blessing feels nice, though…"
"Why are you the one looking more disappointed?"
Mm. I probably should not find it funny that Kimchi Dumpling has turned into a pitiful little dumpling over this. But she is just too cute. And Meat Dumpling, flustered by her dejected face and now the one watching her for cues instead — that, too.
"I'm not disappointed."
"Don't lie. Anyone can see you're sulking."
"I am not sulking."
"Yeah, right."
"Nngh!!"
And of course it ended in a fight.
Better that way, honestly. Bickering kept strange thoughts from settling in.
"You slippery little—!"
"You softie!"
"Brat!"
"Stubborn mule!"
"Idiot!"
"Wow, so you do know words like that, Miss Temple Thug?!"
"I am not a thug!!"
Is it just me, or did both of you just drop about ten years in mental age?
"Haha. Everyone's full of spirit today as well."
"Ohoho. The Young Hunter is lively again."
I barely managed to keep from snorting the way the Archmage and Berserk were.
Then I set my stride firmly toward the forest, which was finally showing its edge. Beyond the woods, cut off as cleanly as if by a knife, a sloping plain came into view.
And when we set foot on that plain, a handful of rolling hills far ahead and pale, hazy stone mountains filled the open sky — and from their midst, a city peeked out its head.
Ednium.
"I can see the city. We may arrive earlier than expected. I thought it would take another day at least."
"Oh! Does that mean we can finally get a drink?"
"The plain is wider than it looks. We will not arrive quite that early."
"……"
We had long since grown used to sleeping outdoors, so arriving later would not have mattered — but I listened carefully to Dev's breathing. In that short span it had grown rougher, more labored. The face that flashed past the edge of my vision was deathly pale.
Whatever else happened in this city, I was not leaving him alone. Not for a second.
Clop, clop.
The sound of hooves, which had paused while we took our bearings on the city's position, started up again.
"They said the land was growing dry — and it truly is arid."
From a distance Ednium's plain had looked like green grassland, but up close it carried a faint yellow cast.
Not the gold of a harvest season. The grass had withered and shriveled from lack of water.
In some stretches the dryness had gone so far that the plants had crumbled away entirely, leaving bare earth. Fsssss. Every time the wind rose, a sandy breeze swept around our ankles.
"…So."
"Hm?"
"So we have to be careful. One stray spark and this whole field could go up."
"Ah. Indeed. A fire spreading here would be dangerous."
Dev offered the warning in a tight, choked voice and urged his horse on. We were nearly at the walls now; all that remained was the checkpoint.
He tugged his hood down until it covered him to the nose.
"We are adventurers out of Camborer. As for our travel papers…"
At the checkpoint it was worse. While the Archmage handled the talking, Dev kept his head bowed and never lifted it.
Even the air around him was like that. Compared to the way he usually killed time needling the Inquisitor, the tension was unmistakable.
"Green hair, is it?"
"Is that a problem?"
"Ah — no, sir."
Luckily, the inspection ended quickly. The guard's eyes kept drifting toward Dev in a way that felt almost unnatural, but it never became an issue.
At least he did not look as though he recognized him.
"Berserk is hungry."
"Let us make for the temple at once."
"The temple only has wine. I hate that."
"Then we can drop our packs and go out to eat afterward, can we not?"
If I could just get something sweet into him and aim for a sugar high… yeah, no. Of course not. Damn it. Why did I pick this stupid act in the first place?
"More than that — this city is remarkably quiet. And the streets are clean."
"You call this clean? To Berserk's eyes it looks dirtier."
"The streets themselves are neither especially clean nor especially quiet. If the Inquisitor feels that way… it is likely because there are fewer beggars and children hawking for innkeepers."
"Ah! That must be it! I believe you are right."
I had been watching Dev out of the corner of my eye, but I let out a quiet little gasp of realization just as the Inquisitor had. I had thought something felt strangely hushed compared to other cities — and yes, there really were fewer children.
In most places, the first thing that hit you on entering a city was a pack of kids shouting about the best inn in town.
"Why so few, do you think?"
"They are not entirely absent, only fewer, so it is unlikely the law forbids it. And it can hardly be a city short of children in general — there are plenty of them playing in the streets…"
The Archmage stroked his chin and finished the thought.
"Considering that the children who usually take on that sort of work are either an innkeeper's own or orphans of the street, I would guess it is the latter that are scarce."
Dev's body gave a visible shudder. He was standing in the rear of the party — in the same rank as me — so the speaker never saw the movement.
"Few orphans wandering the streets. What a fine place."
No. That is not it. Almost certainly not.
"Strange. There are cities with few orphans?"
Berserk, you stop too — stop!
Was this what it felt like, watching people throw more wood on a fire that was already baking a bomb instead of dousing it with water?
I screamed inside my head and slapped my own cheeks.
The air around Dev was freefalling in real time, and my chest only tightened further.
"Well. It may not necessarily be a good sign. It could be the lord's good governance — but it is also possible someone is taking the children elsewhere."
"Ah. Then could it be demon worshipers…!"
"We do not know. You said yourself you sensed no Demon Energy in the city."
"They could be in hiding."
"Indeed. That is why we have come, is it not? Though we must also deliver the request from Camborer's young lord, of course."
And on top of everything else, the original reason we had come to this city still remained.
If some malignant growth were already working in secret here, we had no choice but to investigate.
I already felt as though I were sitting on a bed of nails.
"…I'm hungry. Let's just go already. Are we going or not?"
"I am hungry! Let us go!"
At least Dev speaking up himself put an end to the conversation for now. I made for the temple with my nerves wound tight.
Streets with fewer beggars and orphan pickpockets did not feel safe so much as… hollow. Unsettling.
"There really are almost no people begging…"
"Can we eat first and then go?"
That was probably because nearly everyone of a certain age on these streets was wearing scars.
And not ordinary scars, either. The kind of marks you only saw carved into people who had fought for their lives.
"…There's a good place down that alley."
"Hm?"
"Oh!"
"It might be gone by now. I only heard about it a long time ago."
So he still had enough composure left to talk, at least. Dev calmly pointed to one side. Berserk's eyes lit up — and so did the Inquisitor's.
Kimchi Dumpling must have been hungrier than she let on.
"Then let us stop there first."
In the end, the Archmage was the one who lost. Horses and packs could be handled with magic, so the decision was easy enough. The commission was not desperately urgent, either.
"Give the horses to me."
"To you?"
"There's no stable at an alley restaurant. I'm not that hungry anyway — I'll take them to the temple and come back."
Ah. So he only had enough composure left to talk.
"…And if you go, how are we supposed to find the restaurant?"
"Ah."
He really only had enough left to talk.
"For— damn it…"
"Let us go look first and decide. You yourself said it may already be gone."
"Yes, sir."
Is this really all right…?
"Ah — if it is the horses, I know an open lot. We can leave a runner to watch them."
Fortunately, the place Dev remembered was still there. We could even stable the horses.
Though the Archmage, not trusting the runner — hard to blame him; horses were far too expensive and the errand boy far too small, the sort who would not last a heartbeat if an adult decided to take what he wanted — had to go back and lay an extra barrier over them.
"I could have watched them…"
"No need to go hungry for it. It is not far, and the barrier is more than enough for ordinary folk. Put your mind at ease."
"……"
"Here — soup made by a recipe our house has passed down for generations."
"Oh! Secret recipe soup!"
If only I were as simple as Berserk, lighting up over a single word… I would never have to work this hard. Damn it.
With a sigh that bordered on envy, I spooned up the stew. The thick broth wrapped around my tongue. A deep, genuine flavor I had not expected at all.
"…It's delicious!"
"The ingredients are fresh. Given how dry the land has grown, I was prepared for poor vegetables."
"Haha. Our young lord has a gifted hand, you see. Anything he so much as touches, plants that were withering come back full of life. We never worry about running short of vegetables. Meat, though — that's harder. So the portions are a bit light on it."
"That is quite all right."
Even better that it was tomato-based. I dipped the rye bread that came with it into the broth and slowly filled my stomach.
Even Dev, for all his frayed nerves, could not stay sharp in front of good food. After the first bite, his expression eased a little.
"Innkeeper — another bowl!"
"Yes, sir! Looks like it hit the spot."
"It hits the spot very well!"
"I-I would like another bowl as well, please!"
This place really was the real deal. Dev had said he only "heard about it," but odds were high this had been one of his own spots — and the fact that the taste had not changed over all that time was a gift.
There were no real fads here, and changing trades was not easy, so most people treated carrying on the family business as their natural lot. In that light, maybe it was only to be expected.
"You all eat so heartily."
"It truly is excellent."
"Berserk likes this place now!"
Whether it was because we had paid an enormous sum up front for the horses and the meal, or because the hour was awkward and we were the only customers, the innkeeper stood near our table whenever he was not bringing food, watching us. He struck up conversation with easy friendliness now and then as well.
"Come to think of it — there seem to be few children hawking for inns, and few beggars. Is there some particular reason?"
"You look like an elder, sir — please speak comfortably. As for why there are so few of them… well. It's been like that for a long time. Haha."
"Ah. For a long time."
"Yes, sir. There was… something, years back."
That was the kind of information we managed to draw out.
Of course, Dev, who usually handled this sort of work, was in no state to step forward, so the Archmage had to take his place.
"Ah — right. Ah… guests."
"Hm?"
"You lot are adventurers, then? Just come into the city?"
"That we are."
"Well — I don't quite know how to put this, but… you might want to be careful with that companion of yours over there…"
"Is there some trouble?"
Information was welcome. Hearing this, though — I was less sure it was a good thing.
"Some of the people in this city… don't much care for hair that runs green."
Dev set down his spoon.
"Green hair… you say?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Why?"
At the Inquisitor's question, the innkeeper's face turned faintly awkward. As he scratched the back of his head, a thick scar flashed along his arm.
"Well — it's not something I ought to say in front of someone with green hair."
And if you looked carefully at one of his legs, the motion was just a little unnatural.
"In our city, there's a rumor that people with green hair… bring blood."
I set my spoon down the same way.
He had already pinned it to something that happened in the past, so he almost certainly meant no real malice — and he almost certainly had not brought it up to take a shot at Dev, either.
Even so. If you think it is not something to say in front of someone, then just do not say it.
Even if it is meant as a warning. You could have told us where he would not hear.
"That seems rather illogical…"
"Did that rumor also come from the incident years ago?"
"Well…"
Screeech!
While the innkeeper hesitated over whether to tell the story, I scraped my chair back and stood.
I had seen Dev about to rise and beaten him to it by a step.
"You…?"
"Guest?"
Dev was not going to stay here — and if he walked out and I followed after, the whole act would fall apart…
"I've lost my appetite."
In that case, I would be the one to leave first.