Everything as It Should Be (8)
“Comrade, is your palate just strange? There’s no way this could taste bad.”
Honestly, it was pretty good. Still. This guy, Berserk?
“It seems it simply matches the level of your patheticness.”
Ah, whatever. It was true that the shopkeeper’s single remark had ruined my appetite, so he wasn’t wrong.
I knew full well it wasn’t the owner’s fault, yet I deliberately acted like an ass. It wasn’t as if I always managed to be a good person.
I was the type whose arm bent inward, after all.
The chair scraped.
“…You’re leaving as well?”
“Ah, well. I’m going to check on the horses. I’m a bit worried, you see.”
Dev, who’d grown slightly awkward, finally rose and followed. Thanks to me, the others thought nothing of him stepping out. They probably just assumed he was heading off to wait on me.
Damn it. I was glad, yet somehow it left a bad taste.
“Finish your meal before you go, young hunter.”
“I’m fine, really.”
I confirmed Dev left his half-empty bowl behind as he came out.
Of course I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes—I’d sensed it. Already outside and heading toward where the horses were, I could hardly glance back at Dev emerging half a beat later.
And my character concept wasn’t the sort who’d turn around anyway.
“Damn, six horses?”
“Some rich guy left those there…”
“Just one errand boy watching them?”
“Don’t. The mage cast a spell earlier before he left.”
Confirming that Dev was trailing well six paces behind, I walked on.
That was when I spotted them eyeing the horses we’d left in the clearing. They were standing in the path muttering among themselves, so I had no choice but to notice even if I hadn’t wanted to.
“Get lost.”
I’d have preferred to ignore them and pass, but when they blocked the way like that I had to speak.
I grumbled a little inwardly while scraping my voice into the most sinister tone I could manage. The people whipped around shouting “Who the hell are—” and locked eyes with me.
“K-k-knight.”
“S-sorry!”
“W-we never coveted your horses, Sir Knight!”
As if. Their eyes were practically drooling.
“We’re sorry!”
I had no intention of turning this into a hassle. I let them scramble away and approached the horses. The child standing alert in front of them flinched at the sight of me.
“Go.”
I flicked a coin to the child.
Between the sudden expense of compensating for the broken leg and the regular outlay for consumables—toiletries, food, and the like—my purse had grown a little light… but I still had enough for a tip.
“Thank you!”
The child’s face brightened as he dashed off elsewhere. Dev, who had been silently trailing me, glanced at the boy before drawing near.
“Um, my lord…”
Dev saw me leaning against the wall with my eyes closed and shut his mouth. Instead he crouched and gently stroked the muzzles of the horses as they munched hay.
“…I’ll go buy another cloak real quick.”
A cloak? He was already wearing a hooded one… ah. Trying to cover the ears too, then.
I quietly eyed the perked ears and the hair peeking from under the hood.
The latter was unavoidable, but the former was a fatal flaw. The ears gave away the fur color. The strands poking through the holes were the same.
It was the downside of the large upper ears—the ones set near the crown.
Well, even the Slend with their side ears—positioned by the temporal bones—cut holes on both sides of their hoods because the ears were large, so maybe the real problem was simply having big ears in the first place.
“Just wait a moment, please.”
Anyway, I watched him leave again.
I’d stood up early on purpose so he wouldn’t be alone… no, more than that. You. You’ve been targeted by a demon before, haven’t you? Is it really okay to just go like this?
My feelings grew complicated. Yet if we went together, the concept always got in the way like always.
In the end I decided to trust that Dev would buy only a hood and come straight back. He was the type who kept demons in mind, so it wasn’t pure blind faith.
Thus, instead of following him, I popped a candy I’d bought earlier into my mouth. A candy I’d spent money I didn’t really have to spare on.
Not that I could give it to the person I actually wanted to give it to.
“Oh dear, I went and flapped my mouth for no reason…”
The Inquisitor watched their retreating backs with a gloomy expression as she idly stirred her soup with a spoon.
The food had been delicious just moments ago, yet with the two of them gone a strangely empty feeling settled in.
“Inquisitor, are you full?”
“Ah, no.”
Still, she couldn’t leave the food she herself had ordered. That would be a sin.
So she quickly scooped up a spoonful of soup and cut the meat into small pieces to put in her mouth.
“I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t spoil the guests’ moods because of me…”
“It’s fine. You spoke out of goodwill, did you not?”
She ate while shifting her gaze meaninglessly. The bowls left at the empty seats came into view.
That slippery fellow was one thing, but the Demon Knight had also left nearly half his food.
It must have disagreed with him quite badly. He was the sort who emptied his plate as much as possible wherever they went—even at places so bad that even she grimaced—yet now this.
He’d even finished the meat he hated when it had been served to him by mistake.
“Could the Demon Knight simply dislike tomato stew?”
“Didn’t he eat tomatoes just fine last time?”
“Hmm.”
Then what had been the problem? The spices? The sweetness? Neither had been particularly overdone.
“Maybe that guy’s taste is just weird?”
“Th-that can’t be!”
There was no way the Demon Knight would dislike something for no reason, so perhaps there was something about this dish she simply hadn’t noticed.
The Inquisitor groaned and sank into fretting. It was a problem with no answer in sight.
“More importantly, shopkeeper, tell us about that rumor.”
“Pardon?”
“There must be a reason the rumor started, no?”
“Ah…”
Or could it be a demon?!
The Inquisitor stole a glance at the shopkeeper. She sensed no demon energy. He had a scar on his left arm and limped slightly, but that alone couldn’t prove he was a worshipper.
“W-well, it’s a rather sensitive story.”
“Please. I have a feeling it may be connected to the reason we came here.”
“Pardon? Ah, right. I heard adventurers move after taking commissions.”
Tch. At times like this she wished that slippery bastard were here. She felt regret mixed with a touch of jealousy.
It couldn’t be helped. That slippery one’s talent for analyzing people was truly outstanding.
So much so that she understood why the Archmage had bothered to recruit him. So much so that it sometimes forced her to reflect on her own inadequacies and patheticness.
“…What I’m about to say is a secret.”
“Of course. We’ll keep it absolutely.”
She couldn’t read much information from a person’s appearance the way that one could, nor could she extract material with a smooth attitude and sly tongue.
“…You asked earlier why there were so few people on the streets, right? This is connected to that.”
The Inquisitor once again reminded herself of her own shortcomings as she swallowed a mouthful of soup.
“About nine years ago, or maybe ten. A person with green hair killed the lord of the city at the time.”
She focused on the shopkeeper’s words.
Being inadequate didn’t mean she would neglect to put in effort. That went against her nature.
“And word got around that the person had come from the streets… in other words, one of the pickpockets or beggars who wandered without a home…”
Then someday, even if she couldn’t do it as well as that one, she might at least manage a rough imitation.
“The lord’s family began killing the beggars and pickpockets wandering the streets inside the city that very day.”
But was the story she was hearing now true?
“They claimed they were cleaning up the criminals operating in the back alleys… but anyone who knew anything knew it was revenge.”
The Inquisitor instinctively clenched her fist tight. The shopkeeper half-unconsciously gripped his scarred arm as well.
“…So what became of them?”
“They died.”
At the same time the other’s eyes changed. They were no longer those of an ordinary person, but of a fighter who battled toward what was right.
“They may not have been pleasant neighbors, but there was no one in this city who thought they deserved to die.”
“Hmm. I should pray to the gods. I think I overate…”
“Haha. Surely the gods would forgive something of this degree.”
“Berserk wants to go again.”
Ugh. I’d clearly trusted him. I’d trusted Dev.
Why hadn’t this meat dumpling of a guy come back yet?
I narrowed my eyes at the party who had returned ahead of Dev. Staring straight ahead, I could see the Archmage’s lips twitching.
“Hm? Why are you alone?”
I don’t know. If I knew I wouldn’t be alone either.
“Where did that slippery one go? He followed the Demon Knight.”
Kimchi Dumpling, looking oddly bright after a satisfying meal, also asked me. She was clearly worried even if she pretended otherwise.
I still had nothing I could tell them.
“Are your eyes so defective they cannot accept the simple fact that he is not here?”
“So you don’t know.”
Yep.
“Hm. Bought the young hunter’s portion for nothing. Food wasted now.”
Berserk lamented over the packed container. It wasn’t modern packaging—just food ladled into the pot we’d been using.
“Annoying brat. Brought it specially.”
Berserk quietly looked after Dev more than expected. The Inquisitor had started treating him like a proper companion lately too.
I took their unexpectedness and the dumpling relationship that could almost be called friendship in a positive light and sat up properly. Strength returned to the back that had left the wall.
“Where are you going?”
Well. In terms of concept it was a walk; the real purpose was to find Dev under the pretense of coincidence.
If he was just sulking somewhere in the village that would be better, but somehow my gut felt off.
When I considered the chance he wasn’t coming of his own will, there were surprisingly many points of friction.
Yeah, the shopkeeper hadn’t warned about the hair color for nothing.
That he’d dealt Dev an emotional blow was one thing; the weight the warning itself carried was another.
I didn’t take it lightly. It was the most common and most bothersome cliché.
“Return to the temple before evening!”
Luckily, or perhaps not, the party didn’t stop me.
My legs began striding purposefully down the street.
“Ugh, that fishy smell.”
Yet one of the people passing by just happened to mutter that as he went by me. As a bonus, my right arm suddenly itched.
Surely… he wasn’t talking about me, right? He said fishy, so it couldn’t be me, right? Honestly, what reason would I have to smell fishy.
…Or wait, do I smell like blood?? I haven’t washed since arriving, that’s true…!!
I groaned, recalling the trauma Kankan had left behind. Meanwhile the itching arm was pure misery.
As if scratching weren’t already an OOC disaster that forced me to do it in secret—the gauntlet was hard to take off too…!
And it wasn’t even the opening that itched! If it were the opening I could at least shove a finger in and scratch, so why was the deepest part tickling like crazy.
I trudged along weeping under the dual weight of the smell accusation and the inability to scratch. Even then I couldn’t drop the cool, so my expression stayed straight.
If I gave Dev some weird face when we ran into him by chance, there was no telling what reaction he’d come back with.
“……!”
“…Go!”
“…?”
After pressing on through the main street with that internal struggle, I reached the commercial district and found a crowd gathered.
From the noise it seemed a brawl was underway.
“…If you don’t like it then move!”
“…You! You’re the one who should get lost!”
I approached the fight. People stood packed thick around it, but luckily my height let me see over them.
Except for the Shagi, people averaged a good ten to twenty centimeters shorter than me, so it was possible.
“…And you still call yourself a person of this city after that?!”
“Ha, of course! I’m a proud resident of Ednium! Unlike you freaks who make a stink over hair color!”
“That guy’s problem isn’t just the hair—!”
“Shut up! Don’t pin blame on someone when you’re not even sure!”
What I saw was two groups of three or four each, arguing.
The problem was that behind one of those groups stood Dev, fiddling with a new cloak.
And his face, visible between the hood, was red as if he’d been slapped. My eyes trembled.
I slid forward.
“Don’t shove from behi— hup.”
“M-m-m-move.”
“…It’s a knight!”
“A k-knight? Isn’t he an adventurer?”
Hell, from the look of the scene our kid had gotten beaten for no reason, and some righteous citizens who’d seen it were protecting him.
Was this right? Was it? No matter how much they hated green hair, was it right to beat someone who—outwardly—had nothing to do with it?!
And you, Meat Dumpling! Why are you standing there with your head down like a criminal without a word! What did you do wrong! Lift your head!
“W-what are you?”
“A face we haven’t seen. Be careful. Those guys are thugs who slap any passerby who comes by.”
“What?! Thugs?!”
“Yeah, thugs!!”
Their attitude toward me alone showed their character.
Satisfied with the ones who worried about my safety first, I walked in between them.
It was less the stride of someone intending to intervene and more the walk of someone who said “you can fight or not, I’m just going my way.”
“Some unrelated bastard shouldn’t stick his—”
And the moment they opened their mouths I deliberately stopped right in the middle—only my side profile visible to them. I didn’t turn my eyes.
I simply rested a hand on the hilt at my waist.
“These days even things that are not human often speak human words.”
“…My lord?”
Ah, more than that—between that tin-can young master in Camborer and these people too, why have I had so many chances to threaten ordinary folks lately.
“I-if you attack me, e-even a knight…”
But those guys had started with me first.
“Even?”
I flicked my eyes toward him.
“E-even a knight, i-if you kill someone…”
“How laughable.”
Matching his continued words I twisted my ankle and slowly approached him. I didn’t knock him over like the young master, so he faced me still standing.
Even if the height difference forced him to tilt his head back almost completely.
“You ignored the law to strike another, yet you think you will receive the law’s protection?”
“H-hiiik!”
“Begone, vermin. Occupy the street and bother me one more time and I shall truly lighten those light fists of yours.”
Still, I didn’t use violence. I was a cultured modern person, after all.
Instead I glared at him with killing intent and presence packed into my eyes. His legs began visibly shaking, and he and the companions behind him bolted away in a scramble.
A victory for the concept.
Well, as a side effect the surrounding people flinched and stepped back from me too, but that hardly mattered. They were people I’d see once and never again.
“My lord…”
Most of all, Dev hadn’t been afraid.
“…Did you come looking for me?”
“Nonsense.”
Actually yes. Glad I found you quick, kid.
“…I was about to leave right away… but they picked a fight… I’m sorry, my lord.”
What do you have to be sorry for. It’s obvious it wasn’t your fault.
More than that, does your cheek hurt a lot? The inside of your mouth isn’t cut, is it?
Ah. This is irritating. Come back, you runaway bastard. I never liked the Code of Hammurabi, but you deserve a beating. Who do you think you are, hitting our Meat Dumpling.
“My lord.”
What.
“If… if something my lord thought was right… ended up creating innocent victims…”
I left the site of the commotion with Dev trailing like a tail. With every step I took the people parted like the Red Sea, so advancing wasn’t a problem.
“What would my lord do then?”
Our Meat Dumpling’s question, on the other hand, was the problem.
“A worthless question.”
But what can I do. This sort of question is the complete opposite of my concept.
“If one cannot even take responsibility for the consequences of one’s actions, one should never have taken up the sword to begin with.”
Even as I answered I asked myself.
Is this right? Is this right?
“…I thought as much.”
Even if I do somersaults this doesn’t seem right…!!
“Someone like me… maybe I should never have picked up a blade.”
Hwaaaaah!! Archmage-nim, help!!!