Hospitality at Jiamant Hall
“From Jiamant Hall we can walk, then ride to Pennas…”
Jiamant Hall belonged to the lord who had personally overseen the road construction all the way to our village. It lay relatively close. He was not a particularly remarkable man, but he knew how to ride the current. Right after the great war, when people were still wild with adoration for the hero, he had begun the roadwork. With very little money he had secured the full, willing cooperation of the villagers.
“Should we pay our respects to Sir Jinat before we go?”
It would be wise. Courtesy aside, once he learned we were heading for the Ayman Kingdom, he would almost certainly provide horses, a carriage, and whatever other support he could muster.
“I suppose we should. The two of them have always been kind to us.”
Kindness was not quite the right word. Fawning, or perhaps desperate clinging, would have been more accurate. Whenever a harvest festival or any day of even minor significance arrived, the lord and his family would hurry to our village. Even his wife and children could barely bring themselves to meet Rowell’s, Aegina’s, or even my eyes.
The lord lived in constant dread that someone might complain his taxes were too heavy or that some injustice had occurred. He spent his own private funds to look after the villagers with meticulous care. Thanks to that, whether willingly or not, he had become the most respected lord in the surrounding region.
“Anak, did you stop by there on your way back last time?”
“No. I cut straight through the forest to see Priest Philip.”
Although the detour was slightly longer in distance, crossing the forest or stopping at Jiamant Hall took roughly the same amount of time. The roads around the hall were that well maintained. Both they and I had our own reasons for avoiding unnecessary attention, so we had tacitly steered clear of the place.
“Would you like me to carry your bag, Anak?”
Aegina had noticed I was falling a little behind and asked gently. The only thing she was carrying was a small bag of clothes; her offer to “switch” was really an offer to take my load.
“No, it’s fine. I’m not lagging because it’s heavy.”
The weight of the luggage was not entirely irrelevant, but the real difference lay in our basic physical abilities. Our strides, our stamina—everything about us was simply on another level.
During our previous journey we had often moved slowly while staying alert, or else we had rushed with every ounce of strength we possessed. In those moments Medrup would cast spells or I would summon creatures to keep up. But when we traveled at this leisurely pace, no such help existed, and the gap between us widened.
“Anak, your stamina has dropped more than I expected. You never used to be like this.”
Oh, Rowell. The “old days” you were thinking of were probably the very beginning of our travels. It was not that my stamina had declined; you had simply become incomparably stronger.
I, too, had grown tremendously in my ability to synchronize with and control my summons, as well as in my mana and the way I wielded it. Yet my raw physical endurance had barely changed. Even if it had improved a little, how could it possibly compare to a hero’s?
Rowell could probably catch Bagloros at full speed over a short distance without any auxiliary magic.
“I walk around the village now and then, but I haven’t done any real training.”
I did not voice the thought aloud. His innocent misunderstanding was rather endearing.
“Then we should spar like we used to once we get back. We did it all the time at the academy.”
“That sounds good. I’ll help as well.”
No. Absolutely not.
“Please spare me that. I have no desire to feel like a raw recruit again.”
No matter how much they held back, could I really serve as a practice partner without my summons?
“I can help too.”
…Bagloros. You especially cannot.
“I’ll have to decline that offer as well.”
Setting aside skill and physical ability, he was the sort who would strike a sleeping person simply because it was faster. He would control his strength, of course, but it would still be terrible for one’s mental health and heart.
“Welcome!”
We reached Jiamant Hall before nightfall. Before we could even greet the guards at the gate, the captain and his men recognized us from the wall and came running to salute. We entered the castle under their formal welcome.
A short while later the lord himself burst out like an arrow, breathing hard, and stopped in front of us.
“L-Lord Rowell, Lady Aegina, Lord Anak, and Lord Bagloros as well! What brings all of you here?”
“Hello, Sir Jinat.”
“Is your wife and your children well?”
At Rowell’s and Aegina’s greetings he bowed so deeply his head nearly touched the ground.
“They are, of course. Please, come inside the castle! My family will be delighted.”
“Let’s do that.”
When Rowell and Aegina hesitated for a moment, I answered quickly. We needed to go inside. Only then could we accept a certain amount of support even if they tried to refuse. If we parted ways here, the lord’s desire to help would end with nothing more than words.
We followed the lord into the castle. I had visited twice before, and each time the place seemed a little more modest. The silk decorations looked freshly cleaned, yet they were clearly growing worn. Compared with my last visit, several items had disappeared or diminished; nothing new had been added. I even had the impression that the number of servants had decreased.
“Lord Rowell. Lady Aegina. Lord Anak. Welcome.”
“Hello.”
“Hello.”
The lord’s wife and children stood in a neat row in the reception room and offered formal greetings. Under normal circumstances they would have come to the door, but the sudden visit had forced them to prepare in haste. The wife and daughters still looked somewhat disheveled, their hair and clothing not quite finished.
“Have you been well, Lady Jinat?”
“Gini, Peter, Angie—have you been well too?”
“Yes, Lady Aegina.”
The eldest daughter, Gini, now a young lady, accepted the greeting with proper dignity, while the second son Peter and the youngest Angie answered with bright, innocent smiles. All three glanced at Bagloros standing behind us and grew visibly tense.
“Please, have a seat. Dinner will be ready shortly.”
We had barely begun exchanging pleasantries when a servant announced that the meal was prepared. The lord must have given instructions the moment he heard of our arrival.
When we entered the dining hall, dishes were already laid out on the long table. Servants stood one behind each of our chairs, ready to attend us. Notably, no one stood behind the lord or his family, confirming that the household was indeed short of hands.
“Where are you all headed?”
“We’re thinking of visiting the Ayman Kingdom after so long.”
“A fine idea. His Majesty and Lord Levrant will surely be glad to see you.”
He offered us horses and his own carriage free of charge. As expected, Rowell and Aegina politely declined. When the lord insisted that letting us leave empty-handed would damage his reputation, they finally agreed to borrow three horses. Since riding would be far more uncomfortable for Bagloros, three mounts were sufficient.
Rowell and Aegina exchanged quiet smiles in my direction, their expressions saying they knew exactly what I had been aiming for.
After the meal, they could not refuse the lord’s earnest request that we stay the night. This, too, had been part of my plan. The lord would assign each of us a private room, and that would give me the chance to visit Rofena without worry.
Lord Jinat mentioned that his eldest daughter Gini would soon be married and asked us to write congratulatory messages. The groom’s territory lay quite far away, and the wedding date fell during the period we would be in the Ayman Kingdom, so attendance was impossible. A written blessing was the next best way to honor the occasion.
Of course, the true purpose was not merely to receive congratulations; through the message the groom’s family would learn of the hero’s connection and the lord’s prestige would rise accordingly.
Rowell and Aegina gladly wrote messages celebrating Gini’s marriage. Bagloros and I added our signatures to lend the document greater weight.
Aegina stayed beside Gini, offering advice and stories about married life, while Rowell told Peter and Angie tales of our adventures. Bagloros remained at Rowell’s side. At an appropriate moment I slipped away to the room the lord had prepared for me.
“I’ll turn in early, so please rest as well.”
“Understood.”
After sending the waiting servant away, I locked the door and cast a light barrier. Then I took out the crystal and headed for Denatel’s Library.
“You’re late.”
The slightly sulky tone brought an involuntary smile to my face. It was a sight I could never have imagined in the past. I had already felt it keenly over the past few weeks, but traveling with Rowell again made the old memories surface even more strongly.
“You went back, so I assume you weren’t planning to come here at all?”
“Of course not.”
I told her we were on our way to the Ayman Kingdom.
“I see. So it’ll be a while before you can come again?”
“Probably. Even if I do manage to visit, I won’t be able to stay long.”
“Until when?”
“I’m not sure exactly, but once we reach the Ayman Kingdom there should be some free time. Rowell and Aegina will want to spend time with their families.”
The word “families” stirred a question I had never considered before. Did she have a family as well? And if so, were they waiting for her?
Yet I could not bring myself to voice the question. Even if the answer was yes, what would change? Whether her family missed her or she missed them, the one keeping her imprisoned here was still me.
At that moment she suddenly gave me a gentle smile.
“Don’t worry. The moment a demon reaches maturity, their ties with their parents are essentially severed.”
“I… see.”
Was I really so transparent?
“…More importantly, is there something you haven’t told me?”
She asked with a playful smile. I could not understand how she noticed these things. She had never been like this back at the academy.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s already too late. Your expression stiffened just now.”
Did I now have to be on guard even when coming here?
“Well? Tell me.”
Faced with her demand for a confession, I hesitated. Should I really say it?
“What is it?”
“My fiancé sent me a letter.”
There. I admitted it. To some degree I had said it deliberately, just to see her reaction.
“Really? What kind of person is he?”
She showed no reaction whatsoever. She simply asked, with pure curiosity, what sort of person he was. Her calm was so complete that I, who had spoken with a slightly mischievous intent, felt oddly flustered instead.
“…Rofena?”
“What?”
“Does it not strike you as strange that I have a fiancé?”
“Don’t your parents arrange one or two for you when you’re young? Besides, you humans marry multiple people anyway.”
I had noticed it before as well—Rofena’s knowledge of humans was slightly off, neither entirely wrong nor entirely right.
“Well, not everyone does that, but…”
My original intention in bringing it up had not been entirely innocent, and her unexpectedly composed reaction made it surprisingly difficult to explain the actual situation afterward.