Toward a Better Tomorrow (1)

After leaving the dining hall, I walked straight out of the temple altogether.

It felt like the right reaction—and even if it wasn't, I still had an unfinished meal to deal with. My satiety bar wasn't full yet.

"Welcome!"

On top of that, I still hadn't restocked the supplies I'd burned through in the sewers two weeks earlier. This time, I was going to shop properly, with time to spare.

"Looking for me?"

I'd been wandering for about an hour when Dev sidled up out of nowhere. I'd already bought everything I needed, so it didn't matter much—but I couldn't help wondering if the next quest was already on its way.

"The next city is Gryu Telz."

…I'd expected him to be carrying a message from the Archmage or the Inquisitor. I hadn't thought he'd be the one handing out the quest himself.

"…You're coming, right?"

Quest or no quest, it looked like the Sage had finally managed to rope Dev in while I was gone.

"You're here!"

That was the first thing I heard when I followed Dev's lead to the rendezvous point, face carefully blank. Kimchi Dumpling must have been convinced I wouldn't show.

Not that she needed to worry.

Story reasons aside, it fit the concept too.

If a demon had already succeeded—however briefly—in seizing my body, there was no reason it couldn't happen again. And there was no guarantee that a demon in control of me would leave everyone around me unharmed.

The Inquisitor and the Archmage, on the other hand, could respond to that kind of crisis immediately. They weren't the sort of people who'd go down easily.

Perfect insurance for the worst-case scenario. Even if my temper climbed all the way to the top of my head, I couldn't exactly walk away from them.

"I thought you wouldn't c—"

Of course, the emotional distance between us had never been greater. So don't talk to me, Inquisitor!

I strode past her, cold enough to leave a draft in my wake. Oops. From behind came a small, startled sound.

"Uwah…"

Dev—who hadn't done anything wrong either, but was still firmly on my ignore list—let out a sigh of his own. For the record, he'd tried talking to me several times on the way here, and I'd stonewalled every single attempt. Heh.

"Is this really all right, Master Mage?"

"My head is still attached, is it not?"

Was it just my imagination, or had the Archmage finally figured out how to handle me?

If so, that was a good thing. My concept might find it irritating, but separately, I'd been worried about the Archmage's cover. Watching him lead a team full of nothing but trolls had been nerve-wracking.

"Then let us depart."

At any rate, a somewhat downcast Kimchi Dumpling announced our departure.

The horses snorted and moved forward. The mounts we'd ridden in on were being returned to their original owners, so the ones we sat on now had been prepared separately by the temple.

There was no send-off. This time we weren't leaving with a merchant caravan, and the temple hadn't assigned anyone to escort us either.

"Hey, wait!"

That was true right up until I heard that voice.

"Those people…"

"What are adventurers doing all the way out here?"

Unlike me—who had no intention of looking back—the red and green dumplings, ever curious about their surroundings, reined in their horses and twisted around in the saddle.

Thanks to them, I didn't even need to turn my head to know who'd shouted.

"Wait!"

"Just a moment, please!"

The adventurers seemed to be calling after us. Not my problem. While the other three had stopped, I kept my horse at a steady walk.

Clop, clop. The sound of hooves was pleasantly soothing.

"What is the matter?"

"Good day, Sister. Sage."

"We've got something for the Demon Knight, so we came running. Damn, a little later and the whole trip would've been for nothing."

"Ahaha."

"More importantly—hey. I said wait a second, didn't I?"

Why was my name coming up, though.

"We're here for you."

A vaguely familiar bear-form Shagi planted himself across my path. I carefully creased my brow at him—the kind of expression that said, unless you have a damn good reason for blocking my way, you're about to go flying.

At that, the Shagi adventurer and the one wearing a red-cross emblem both chuckled.

"We won't keep you long. Just take this."

The red-cross handed something over. Looking closer, I saw it was a medal smaller than my palm—dark metal set with a blue gemstone, the Adventurer's Guild crest engraved at its center.

"On behalf of the Tatara Adventurer's Guild, Agathe, exclusive healer of the Tatara Adventurer's Guild, extends her boundless gratitude to you, Adventurer."

Uh. That was kind of cool, but also completely out of nowhere.

Was this the quest reward? After saying they wouldn't give one, they were just papering it over with a single medal?

"That's from the Adventurer's Guild. This one's from the guys whose lives you saved with those medicines you handed out."

While I was stuck oscillating between so they are giving a reward after all and is it even right for me to take this, the Shagi produced something of his own.

A bundle bigger than my face. The mouth was cinched tight, so I couldn't tell what was inside.

"Unnecessary."

"Haha…"

"No adventurer ignores a life debt. A few soldiers got some too, but still."

"It may be meager as compensation for everything that happened… but please take it as our way of saying thank you. For an adventurer who asked for neither pay nor anything else and simply gave of himself—it only seemed right to offer at least a little honor."

So it really was the quest reward. Just… a little awkward to accept, given my concept.

I started to hand it back, but the adventurers retreated at lightning speed. Their instincts for this kind of thing were terrifyingly sharp.

"No refusals."

The Shagi adventurer even tossed the bundle at me. I caught it on pure reflex, and only then realized I'd been had.

"May fortune favor you, Adventurer."

I finally clicked my tongue and shoved everything into my inventory.

The bundle was fine—I didn't even know what was in it. But the medal? What the hell was I supposed to do with that. I wasn't the type to wear the thing, so inventory it went.

I hate dead stock. They meant well, so I wasn't exactly unhappy about it, but still.

"When did his lordship hand out medicine, anyway?"

"When he went into the sewers alone, I expect. Kindness does come back around, it seems."

"But what exactly did the Demon Knight receive just now?"

"I'm not entirely sure myself. It looked like a medal, but… do you know?"

"…It's an honor medal unique to the Adventurer's Guild, awarded for distinguished service. Usually only given to those who complete commissions thought impossible, or achieve something big enough to make their name known across an entire region…"

As the adventurers withdrew with little smirks, Dev offered an explanation from behind. With item information currently unavailable, it was a very welcome one.

"Sir Knight more than earned it. He didn't just clear the sewers alone and cut down over a hundred demons—he also slaughtered a dozen-odd demon contractors."

Whether that actually made sense was another matter. Was soloing the sewers really that impressive an achievement…? Wouldn't the Inquisitor, who'd taken down the Plague Demon, be the one who deserved it?

If not for the concept, I would have asked. That one little restriction was unexpectedly frustrating.

"I knew it…!"

Meanwhile the Inquisitor—the one who'd actually beaten the boss monster—exclaimed without a shred of envy, as if she'd expected nothing less.

I spurred my horse a little faster for no good reason. Taking someone else's award left a faint prick of conscience.

Our destination, Gryu Telz, was more than twice as far as the distance between Somon and Tatara. Crossing an entire mountain range wasn't exactly a short hop.

The one silver lining was that we weren't climbing along the ridgeline—we were cutting straight across it.

And thanks to the mage, we never had to worry about getting lost, nor did we need to post watches every time we made camp. Once Dev joined—with his talent for terrain-based concealment and trap-setting—that was even more true.

No risk of being ambushed while half-asleep just because nobody was standing guard.

Even so, I kept waking early, as if I were taking a watch. Just as a swan looks elegant only because of the frantic paddling no one can see beneath the water, a concept's dignity had to be maintained through efforts no one else knew about.

Well. Another reason was that past six hours of sleep, the fatigue reduction from seven hours and twelve hours was basically the same.

Crack. Scrape.

So before dawn I was already up, using the campfire as company while I sharpened my sword with a soft rasp of steel.

Unlike the True Two-Hander, whose edge barely dulled, the longsword needed constant maintenance like this every single day.

Even then, its durability had dropped below seventy. It was about time to get it repaired or replaced.

I flicked a finger against the scarred blade, then slid it back into its scabbard.

Next up for inspection: the gift bundle I still hadn't fully sorted through, even after days of poking around in it.

"What even is this…"

The amulet-type accessories were manageable. At least those were easy to identify.

Salt, sugar, and other spices were fine too—outrageously expensive, but useful in all sorts of ways.

But the black peppercorn-looking seeds? The dried herbs? The glittering little stones? No idea.

Some of them at least popped up with item descriptions. Plenty didn't, which made identifying them a nightmare. My inventory slots were getting tight, too.

I'd sell the lot the moment we hit the next city. We'd already crossed the mountains, so it wouldn't be long.

Pop. Pop.

No sooner had I finished sorting the bundle than the campfire in its shallow pit spat a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shower of sparks. The flames had grown a little weak.

Thud.

I tossed on another log and decided to just keep the fire going. When there was nothing else to do, watching a fire was the best way to kill time.

The crackling flames and the quiet night wove themselves into a distinctly sentimental atmosphere.

"Logout."

The wish I'd voiced on pure reflex went ungranted, as always.

I waved the window away. I hadn't expected anything, so there was no disappointment left to feel.

Awoooooooo!

Then, out of nowhere, came the distinctive howl of a canine.

I blinked. Sounded like a wolf—but what was one doing howling around here?

Getting ambushed by wolves in the middle of the night was a first for me.

Prff.

They were common trash mobs, so I didn't think there was much to worry about—but I still couldn't afford to completely drop my guard.

In the end I stood up and soothed the horses, who had startled awake ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at the howling. The wolves kept calling the whole time.

"…"

The way they were answering each other like signals put a bad taste in my mouth.

I glanced at my sleeping companions.

There was an alarm spell, and Dev had set his own traps, so they'd probably wake up on their own before a wolf got its teeth into anyone's throat.

With that, I abandoned the party and pulled out a lantern—not for myself, but to hang on the tree where the horses were tied.

I could read presence even in the dark, but being able to see was still better.

Rustle.

And then the night visitor I'd been hoping not to receive finally arrived. Rrrrring. The alarm went off.

"Enemies!"

"Damn it…"

"Wh-what?!"

"Shit, this is why you don't mess with knights…!"

Mixed in among my companions' voices as they jolted awake was a stranger's. That alone confirmed this wasn't a simple animal attack.

I threw myself into the darkness and drew a dagger. One of the two target marks granted by my level-ups was already charging straight at me.

We were running toward each other, so distance wasn't a concern. The real question was whether I could hit a moving target with a dagger.

Clang!

Fortunately, I could.

"Loose arrows…!"

The night attackers clearly hadn't prepared for this kind of development. Their flustered scrambling carried clearly even without sight. Not that I felt particularly sympathetic.

Grrrk!

In that same instant, another wolf ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠closed the gap and lunged at me. But even without a target mark, a presence that loud was something I simply couldn't miss.

The wolf, pierced from the base of its skull clean through to its chest, sprayed blood and was flung aside in a heartbeat.

"Protect me!"

Around the same moment, a golden barrier bloomed outward in a hemispherical wave. Judging by the sounds alone, the Inquisitor had just finished off a charging wolf and immediately deployed the skill.

Whoosh!

In any case, the golden barrier swelled until it had not only enclosed the Archmage and the rogue, but pulled me and the horses into its radius as well.

"Wh-what is this?!"

"M-magic?"

"Th-the knight's up! Run, now—!"

"O Sea Dragon, grant us your blessing…"

But the attackers who'd been charging in were instead shoved back by the golden barrier and went sprawling.

Clatter-clatter!

The arrows fared no better. Through the faint gold light I glimpsed crude shafts dropping harmlessly to the ground.

"Shit, get up already!"

"O Sea Dragon, please look upon us with mercy…"

No—more importantly, this is a defensive skill. Why is it dropping my HP.

I registered a thin flicker of irritation at the lost health and kicked off the ground. Conveniently, a fleeing target mark was right nearby.

"Think I'll let you leave…!"

There were others still crouched motionless, but they could wait.

I shouted, fully immersed in the concept. A couple of screams echoed in my ears.

Unfortunately for them, I was the fastest one here.

I cut down the two who'd been trying to flee, then chased down the one who'd run first and carved open his back. The blood running along the blade felt unpleasantly cold.

This was necessary.

Yes. This had been necessary. Necessary, but…

"Oof. Bandits camping on a travelers' trail, and they're even raising mongrels. But what can you do? Just unlucky, I guess."

On the other side, Dev seemed to be massacring attackers with dagger and kukri. His movements were extremely competent. Even while talking, his presence was surprisingly hard to pin down.

The Archmage had been last to wake, but once he grasped the situation he was already mid-incantation. The Inquisitor stayed still—but holding the barrier was the most important job of all.

Clink-clink-clink.

Soon, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pale chains faintly rose up out of the darkness.