Chapter 139
Chapter 139
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Bondales' Specialty
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"How is it?"
Rishir asked.
"Ah, it's still there...!"
Palrag, who had been checking Felix's condition, shouted.
Rishir let out a sigh of frustration.
"No. Why is this happening? Why can't you use your power? Is this the same hand that destroyed a whole city and tried to bring us all to ruin?"
His left hand, the Questioning Hand, responded to his scolding.
"Ah, really? I get it."
"I demand."
"That's that, and this is this. We have to put out the urgent fire first, don't we? Our friend, the hope of the world, the hero, is in dire straits. You gonna help or not?"
"By that logic, your situation isn't my concern either?"
"Hey. Why do you make me out to be the bad guy? Let's both be nice. Huh? How nice would that be? What do you want? Can I ask? If you say no, I won't."
Rishir kindly asked for its opinion.
The grayish-white flames that suddenly flared up on the left hand had nothing to do with it.
The Questioning Hand trembled.
It laboriously moved its joints and began to muster its power.
Crack.
Crack.
Those watching the scene felt complicated emotions.
A sight that had seemed so ominous before now evoked pity, like an overworked old man being pushed to his limits.
At that moment.
Snap.
The ring finger of the Questioning Hand bent backward at the joint and locked in place.
At the same time, Palrag shouted.
"Rishir! It's gone! The energy attached to Felix has disappeared!"
Palrag shouted again, still checking Felix's condition.
The pursuit of the Hero of Trials had been blocked.
The first to express joy was—
The abomination that scattered curses and ruin expressed genuine joy at the hero's fortune.
"Heh, you're that happy?"
"Yeah, yeah. Good job."
Someone among the group watching muttered.
"Ah, in that way..."
It was a devil, but now a spirit.
They realized how to comprehend that absurd sentence.
Their thinking drifted one step further from common sense.
"Well then."
At that moment, Rishir watched Felix intently and spoke.
"Does this mean their pursuit is over?"
"..."
Felix's group couldn't answer.
Then Jane stepped forward.
"It might be better to observe the situation a bit longer. Felix, until things settle, stick with me. That way, they won't act rashly, and if something happens, it'll be easier to respond."
"...No."
Felix shook his head after some thought.
"I can't drag you into this when I don't even know who exactly is tracking me. If you and your comrades get in danger because of me, I could never forgive myself."
"..."
Jane and the others wore complicated expressions.
They could sense the hero's resolve and pride in his firm refusal.
Felix's reaction was natural for a hero.
They were chosen by the holy sword and basked in the world's praise.
Naturally, they held immense pride in themselves.
For such a hero to hide behind others just because he felt endangered?
Impossible.
Who could break a hero's resolve?
They knew Felix was being stubborn, but they couldn't bring themselves to persuade him.
(Ex-)Devil aside.
Dangaleon's voice carried strong power.
He was thrilled after seeing Rishir wield his power.
The unnecessarily powerful voice shook the room unnecessarily, emphasizing the unnecessarily valid words.
"..."
From the hero's perspective, how should one react when scolded righteously by a devil?
Even the Hero of Trials, who had undergone countless trials, didn't know.
In the end, he timidly said to Rishir.
"...What should we do..."
"How about following Jane's suggestion?"
"...Yeah."
"...Thanks."
"No problem."
"...Felix."
"...Yeah, Jane. Thanks for the offer."
"I'm happy too."
Human-Following (Ex-)Devil
Resolves the Heroes' Conflict
Resonance with the Sword of Progress, Zarak.
After that brief stay at Jane's mansion, Rishir returned to his original residence, having given up his room to the new guests, Felix and his group.
Goose's grand mansion.
He returned to someone else's house as if it were his own and pondered for a moment.
'Am I freeloading too long?'
Dray, walking beside him, noticed Rishir's concern and said,
"No need to worry. The owner of this mansion has benefited greatly from you."
"...My doing? What did I even do?"
"Me, Duke Palrag, Tua, the heroes—all sorts of people are flocking here because of you, aren't they?"
"Ah."
"For a merchant, where connections are everything, this is a huge opportunity."
"Come to think of it, why are Duke Palrag and Sir Dray staying here? Weren't you both supposed to stay in Bondales only briefly?"
"I just said. Because of you."
"Pardon?"
"Being around you means all sorts of rare experiences. How could we leave Bondales? Look, even now."
Palrag pointed at the item in Rishir's hand.
The Questioning Hand, wrapped in purple cloth.
"In all my years at the Magic Tower, encounters with such mystical items can be counted on one hand—"
"And that."
Dray pointed to the holy sword at Rishir's waist.
"I hoped it wasn't true, but you really became the holy sword's master. So, should I call you Rishir the Hero now?"
"Hero..."
Rishir smiled wryly.
Dray burst into laughter, finding Rishir's reaction endlessly amusing.
"My goodness, Rishir. You're probably the only one in the world who'd react like that to becoming a holy sword's master."
"But considering your abilities, it's true you have no reason to cling to a holy sword like others. Becoming its master also means inheriting the hero's will."
"True. A hero's duty is no light burden. Plus, as the Hero of Trials just showed, holy swords often drag you into annoyances. Just think about how you got the Sword of Progress—"
"What? Aren't there tons of people who want to be your master?"
"Watch your wording."
Dray and Palrag, amused by the scene, chimed in.
"Rishir, see?"
"That's why we can't leave your side. Where else can you see a holy sword act like that?"
"..."
As Rishir mulled over their words with a complicated expression,
"Ah, Rishir. You're back."
Tua, the Special Forces captain strolling in the garden, spotted him and approached.
"I was waiting for you."
"Me...? Oh no, what problem now!?"
"I heard from Dray. You followed the hero and got caught in another incident? If you're okay, tell me about it."
"...I see. Is this related to the Special Forces too?"
"No? Just curious."
"?"
Rishir stared at Tua.
"Something wrong?"
"Is it wrong..."
Rishir fell into thought.
How should he take being treated like a local celebrity by these big shots?
"...By the way, Sir Tua, don't you need to return? The Special Forces must be in chaos without you."
"That sounds off."
"Just my imagination."
"Is it? Anyway, no worries there. Thanks to you."
"Pardon? Thanks to me?"
"Because you resolved the face thief case in a flash, we have some breathing room. We can finally rest from the fatigue of chasing them. I'll be hanging around you for a while."
"Around me? That sounds off."
"What's so off?"
Just then.
"Ah, Rishir!"
Mangnus, the Special Forces vice-captain, spotted Rishir while with other members and rushed over.
"Heard from the captain! You followed the heroes and got into another big incident!? You okay!?"
"Ah! Yes! I'm fine! Thanks for worrying!"
Finally, a normal conversation.
Rishir replied gratefully.
"Great! Then tell me the details!"
"Whoa!"
"C-calm down, Mangnus. You're bothering Rishir."
"Sir Dray...!"
"Let's move first. We can hear the story later. Right?"
"This is maddening!"
Rishir.
Finally freed after emptying his story pouch.
"Ha..."
That day.
Rishir finally got some proper alone time in the evening.
He first looked at the purple cloth bundle in the corner of the room.
The Questioning Hand.
'What to do with this.'
Everyone who'd emptied his stories had shown strong interest and envy for this ancient relic—
But to Rishir, it was just a troublesome nuisance.
'Who uses a thing that curses others?'
He cautiously asked his inner world residents.
"Verbande...ssu. You there?"
"Ack. Yeah. Sorry to interrupt. Then, Dangaleon?"
"Got any useful info on that thing's uses?"
"Oh, reliable. As expected of a devil...!"
"?"
"What're you on about. Anyway, continue."
Dangaleon conjured his flames in the air as if pleading.
"It's gray..."
"Pure white flames?"
"Sigh. Fine. Whatever. Klana. You there?"
"Wondering where best to use this thing."
"Yeah... figured."
Rishir felt a strange incongruity.
Was the murderer's voice sounding gentle just his imagination?
Recalling the murderer's usual tone, Rishir said,
"I'm too soft to use it, right?"
"?"
"Damn, why so creepy all of a sudden."
"No thanks. Not now."
Rishir ignored Klana and approached the Questioning Hand.
Unwrapping the purple cloth revealed the twisted, withered-branch-like abomination.
"Hm?"
Rishir tilted his head while examining it.
"Something's different."
It wasn't his imagination.
Last time, only the pinky was bent backward; now the ring and middle fingers were too.
"Is it dying?"
Rishir furrowed his brow at the abomination.
Not out of pity or guilt.
It was an abomination that had driven countless to ruin with its curse.
That's why.
For that reason, Rishir thought it shouldn't be destroyed like this.
'If it gets destroyed so pointlessly, what about all those it killed?'
After some deliberation, he asked Dangaleon,
"If I share my energy with it, will its condition improve?"
"Really? Then—"
Rishir placed his hand on the abomination.
His energy flowed through the contact into it.
"This should do."
Afterward, Rishir observed the abomination for a while.
No notable changes appeared, so he shrugged.
He'd done what he could.
If it still broke, oh well.
He rewrapped the Questioning Hand in purple cloth and went to bed.
Time passed—
In the dark room.
Squirm!
Squirm squirm!
Something made faint noises in the darkness.
All through the night.