Chapter 300
Chapter 300
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Coaxing
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"Negligent."
The elf muttered in a hostile tone, glaring at the hero's beloved sword discarded on the floor.
It was Latsil, now in a state of stranger anxiety.
She had astutely grasped the context and quoted verbatim what the delegation had said during their staring contest with Rishir.
-Surface-level courtesy toward Rishir.
-Plotting conspiracies in a city where the World Tree might take root.
Already, inside Latsil, they had received two warnings and been ordered to leave.
Not only that, but all the surveillance agents who had followed Rishir alongside Latsil were in the same boat.
"..."
"..."
Thanks to this, the delegation was now face-to-face with the typical attitude of elves.
The sight of elves despising humans.
"Ugh...!"
In this political situation, external pressure was inevitable.
Sir Gerson, the young noble in charge of the delegation, was prepared to endure it willingly.
The problem was the target.
'So many elves...'
Countless elves surrounding him.
Regardless of status or age, it was a situation few who lived in the common world would ever experience.
Gerson was overwhelmed by the arrogant yet mystical presence of this race.
Thus, Gerson's mind grew cluttered.
With the multitude of elves and the cursed sword's existence.
"...Ah! So that's why the Hero asked us to carry your luggage!"
Even so, Gerson managed to maintain his composure.
He was someone recognized in noble society for his exceptional resourcefulness, beyond his young age.
The official first point of contact for the expedition!
Being entrusted with such a crucial role was no coincidence.
"If you had informed us in advance that you were carrying such a dangerous item, we could have taken more appropriate measures. My apologies."
In essence: 'Yes, it's our fault, but you provided the cause.'
'Ooh-'
Gerson's entourage inwardly admired his demeanor.
The hero and the cursed sword.
That absurd combination was undoubtedly the expedition's opening gambit to seize the initiative from the start.
By essentially saying, 'Our expedition is even carrying something this dangerous.'
A simple and childish tactic, but all the more effective for it.
Normally, they would have been paralyzed with fear upon encountering the cursed sword and unable to do anything.
But Sir Gerson was different.
He boldly stated his position right in front of where the cursed sword lay.
'It's a cursed sword in the Hero's possession, so it must be properly sealed. Being a bit close won't affect me. Surely...'
A bold judgment that willingly risked his own safety.
"That said, this is going a bit too far with the jokes. Even so—trying to offload a high-risk danger like this onto us as if it were ordinary luggage?"
And so.
The expedition's trump card, led by the cursed sword, went up in smoke.
Now it was Gerson's turn.
If Gerson had frozen in fear before the cursed sword, the expedition side would have subtly glossed over it and taken control.
But with Gerson standing firm, the story changed.
As he said, using something like a cursed sword for an opening intimidation was base and irresponsible.
"The lord of the expedition is a most honorable and proud hero... We've heard that tale so often our ears have blistered. That's why we approached the meeting with the Hero with great anticipation—but..."
No matter how immense the power, one couldn't ignore public reputation.
Especially not in a symbolic role like the Hero.
Exercising power without justification—brute thuggery—would inevitably tarnish that reputation.
Was there any greater thuggery than intimidating with a cursed sword?
Thus, the Hero's reputation was now in Gerson's hands, so to speak.
"..."
He glanced once more at the cursed sword, then gave the Hero a wry smile.
"We deeply regret this."
Gerson's counterattack was about to begin.
Hiding behind a courteous smile, he observed the Hero's reaction.
Utterly relaxed.
And rightly so. The Hero's previous action was an irredeemable blunder, no excuse could cover it.
'Trying to intimidate by foisting a cursed sword... What on earth was he thinking?'
At this point, Gerson was even looking forward to whatever absurd excuse the Hero would spout.
"A high-risk danger? Oh, come on. Do you think I'd pass such a hazard onto you all? That cursed sword is, of course, safe."
"The cursed sword is safe?"
"Indeed. After an honest conversation with me, it repented—shall we call it a trustworthy cursed sword?"
The Hero pointed at the jet-black blade as he spoke.
A safe cursed sword.
A trustworthy cursed sword.
Gerson nearly burst out laughing inwardly.
As expected, the Hero's excuse was utterly ridiculous.
'A safe cursed sword, so no fault on my part for handing it over—something like that? Trying to gloss over this with wordplay? No chance.'
Gerson pressed the Hero even harder.
"In that case, it wouldn't matter if we really took custody of this cursed sword, right?"
His entourage behind him held their breath.
Gerson pretended to reach for the cursed sword right away.
This would force the Hero to panic and stop him.
If Gerson actually took it, he'd be exposed to the cursed sword's malevolent aura.
In effect, the Hero's request would lead an innocent civilian down the path to ruin.
And so.
Gerson's response was a hardline tactic that backed the Hero straight to the cliff's edge.
A tense, hair-trigger atmosphere!
Gerson strained every nerve to gauge the Hero's intent—
"Huh?"
In that instant.
The highly tense mood around Gerson loosened like a snapped thread.
Because the Hero, whom he'd thought was locked in a fierce tug-of-war, had casually dropped his hands.
Gerson realized belatedly.
That they alone had been serious the whole time.
"Excuse me a moment—."
"Ah?"
At that moment.
Gerson, who had been frozen bent over before the sword, was shoved aside.
Rona's group, who had been pushed to the fringes by Gerson's entourage and nearly ousted from the group, stepped forward.
"Hero. On behalf of the 'Wardens,' we apologize for their rudeness."
"Rudeness!? What do you mean—what rudeness have we committed to warrant such insolence—"
Gerson's eyes widened as he tried to protest to Rona.
"Huh?"
But his mouth clamped shut immediately.
Rona had casually bent down and picked up the cursed sword.
"Wh-what are you doing...!!!"
Gerson forgot even the rivalry between his 'Wardens' and Bondalles and cried out in horror.
No matter how much they wanted to outpace them in this contest, exposing themselves to the cursed sword's aura?
"How could you be so foolish—"
"Foolish? What exactly?"
"What do you mean! Risking your life just to make a good impression on the expedition! If that's not foolish, what is!"
"Oh, this?"
The young noble lifted the cursed sword, flashing his signature refreshing smile.
"Didn't the Hero say it? This is a safe cursed sword."
"..."
"Would the Hero ever pass a dangerous item onto someone else?"
"Th-that's—...!"
Gerson's head spun.
Clearly, the other side was spouting logic, but their frame of reference was fundamentally skewed.
How could anyone take the notion of a 'safe cursed sword' at face value!?
At that moment.
Rona said to Gerson.
"This reminds me of what came up during the personnel selection. You said our Bondalles delegation alone was inadequate to welcome the expedition, right?"
The young noble flashed a mischievous smile.
"At this rate, I'm not sure who's inadequate. Ah, Hero! Sorry. No more embarrassing displays before you—"
"Haha, no need. Don't worry about it."
"Sorry for the needless discomfort just now. Must have been frustrating."
"No. Frustrating? I think that's the normal reaction."
"Dangerous words! That was clearly rudeness, doubting the Hero's honor!"
"Hm... Now that you mention it, it does seem that way?"
"On behalf of Bondalles, I apologize. And I promise, you'll never have such an unpleasant experience again. From now on, we—the Bondalles delegation—will fully handle welcoming you and the expedition."
"Oh, really!? I don't know the details, but—in that case, we look forward to working with you."
"Likewise. Ah! Let me take the luggage. I'll carry it properly this time without dropping it."
"To think it's this reliable!?"
"Hahaha!"
"Kekekeke!"
A flow as natural as running water.
In its wake, Gerson's group stood dumbly alone in the place.
The Hero and Rona's group had returned to the expedition's ranks among themselves.
The moment the Bondalles city council smoothly slipped free of their interference and reeled in the expedition.
"...Huh?"
Gerson's face turned ashen, as if possessed by an evil spirit.
What had just happened?
Gerson's group had no choice but to return to the Bondalles encampment.
Though called the Bondalles encampment—it was mostly composed of outsiders like Gerson from Bondalles.
They were regional powers adjacent to Bondalles who had banded together to actively intervene and respond to this incident.
Collectively known as the 'Wardens.'
"Gerson? Why are you back alone—"
The Warden elders immediately greeted Gerson's group.
Hostile gazes flew from all directions and stuck like darts.
Fine, the Bondalles city council members who had tagged along like tails were missing.
But why was the expedition missing too?
The implication was clear.
"Don't tell me you let the Bondalles city council snatch the initiative!?"
"What!? You were the delegation leader—how could you let them steal an exclusive audience with the expedition!?"
"S-something was off!"
Gerson shouted in grievance.
The expedition's Hero.
Bondalles' saint.
The two had synced up perfectly, like long-lost drinking buddies reuniting, and the situation ended.
In that scenario, what was he supposed to do!?
"W-well, maybe—there might be some connection between the Bondalles city council and the Hero!"
"..."
The Wardens were displeased but didn't dismiss Gerson's opinion.
Bondalles.
That city was thoroughly controlled by fear and reverence for an unknown secret society.
According to the Wardens' intel, that secret society influenced not just the city council and the merchant guild leader Gus, but also the mage tower—
And even the underworld.
Thus, the information the Wardens could gather in Bondalles was extremely limited.
As Gerson said—
It wouldn't be strange if there were unknown interests between them.
"Then we're in trouble."
"This makes achieving our original goal—"
The Wardens.
They had united to guard against the numerous risks that could arise from contact between the expedition and Bondalles.
On the surface, at least.
In truth, their real aim was to use this incident as a pretext to plant their influence in Bondalles.
To that end, coaxing was essential.
The Wardens planned to win over the Hero and the expedition members, bolstering their own group.
No matter the expedition's purpose, inserting their influence into their actions?
That would make external forces infiltrating Bondalles astonishingly easy.
Thus, it was an emergency.
If Gerson was right, the expedition's core—the Hero—was already on Bondalles' side.
"...No, maybe it doesn't matter."
"What?"
"From the start, the Hero wasn't our coaxing target. Winning over the Hero is practically impossible. Isn't that right?"
"Then—"
"The elves are the same. They don't reason. So, our new targets to watch are as follows."
The Divrian Knights.
Popandal's Sword Sheath.
Granite Iron Guild.
Each was a renowned group that commanded respect.
Their integrity and honor went without saying.
However.
Compared to the elves and Hero, they were utterly human.
Mobilize all the resources the Wardens possessed?
Not up to their leader, but recruiting someone with a decent position was entirely feasible.
"Then let's do this. When the expedition arrives at the camp, some of us hold the customary meeting with the Hero and each group's leaders as per tradition. While buying time like that—the rest scout coaxing methods."
"Time to use that item?"
"Seems so."
The Wardens reached a consensus and awaited the expedition.
Moments later.
The famed expedition arrived at the Bondalles encampment.
The plan progressed astonishingly smoothly.
When the Wardens entrusted the expedition's welcome to the Bondalles city council, the council accepted warily but readily.
It aligned with the rights they had consistently claimed.
And now.
The Bondalles city council was holding a banquet, under the delusion they controlled the situation.
With some Wardens.
And the leaders of each expedition group.
The Wardens moved to the next phase.
"Kendrick. Fancy meeting you here again."
"Hm? You?"
"Sir Coltlin. Long time no see. How's young master Ares?"
"Ah! Of course! Doing great! Who'd have thought I'd see you here!? Come, join us for a drink!"
"Mr. Murta. Remember me?"
"Of course I do, you rascal!!!"
They naturally made contact with each group, leveraging their status as power brokers.
Blending in, they selected targets.
Those who seemed ripe for coaxing.
"Ah! Sir Lopford! This is the friend I mentioned!!! Ambitious? Nah—greedy for no good reason, you know? What, wants to farm peacefully in old age, no need for beauty just a kind woman to build a family—dreaming of such modest things, that sort?"
"No, Mr. Kendrick! What have you been saying to make him think that—"
"Huh? Yeah? What was the topic? Whatever, let's drink first!"
And now.
The Wardens gathered around a single table.
A peculiar object occupied the table's center.
A lump like flesh mashed together with a mouth attached.
The Orb of Greed.
It possessed the power to voice the desires hidden within a target.
Along with the difficulty of fulfilling them.
The Wardens fed it hair strands secretly gathered from targets.
"I'll go first."
"Go ahead, Lopford. Who was the target?"
"According to those around him—someone with very modest dreams."
"Hm. Good. Begin."
And so.
The Orb of Greed smacked its lips, then began reciting the target's desire.
The Wardens brightened.
The Orb of Greed unearthed the desire the target truly yearned for, one they could never refuse.
For example, if it called it modest, it truly was.
"Things are going smoothly from the start."
"The gods are watching over us—"
"One from Popandal's Sword Sheath first? Perfect."
They wore satisfied smiles.
Soon, the Orb of Greed recited the modest wish.
"...!!!"
The air in the room sharpened.
"Wh-what is this...!!!"
"Lopford, whose hair did you bring!?"
Suddenly thrust into an unbearable situation, the Wardens fell into shock.
Modest, they said.
Out came a wish fit for a demon king dreaming of the world's end.