Chapter 118
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 118
His expression still stiff, the chef spoke.
“You didn’t need to give me so many gold coins as a tip.”
“Wow, you knew they were gold coins without even opening it. Anyway, just think of it as a down payment.”
The chef, who had been wearing a rigid expression, suddenly broke into a bright smile.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“It’s a little late to play dumb. The way your eyes darted to my uniform and sword was a dead giveaway. I guess you can’t hide being one of us—someone who’s lived and died by the blade. Why else would your eyes track things like that?”
“……Hold on.”
Sensing the shift in the atmosphere, the chef cut Barisik off. His rough hand gestured toward the cook.
As if understanding without a single word, the cook quietly left the room.
Only after they were alone did Barisik continue.
“The swordsmanship master of Hero Bern… No, the former Hero.”
“……”
“What are you doing here, just cooking?”
“Bringing money… Does that mean you intend to drag this washed-up old man back to the battlefield?”
“Not just any battlefield, but the very front lines of the Empire. You won’t be able to call yourself washed-up then. Join our Edelbreas Black Wolf Knights…”
“I refuse.”
“…Garot told me you’d cut me off right about there.”
Barisik grinned, his voice filled with genuine amusement. From his perspective, there was no reason to delay.
Krrraaaack!
The moment Barisik drew his sword, the magic sword ‘Blood Mary’—one of the 36 Masterpieces—let out a bizarre shriek.
Just as the chef—the former Hero—reacted to the sound and tried to step back.
The magic sword was already hurtling toward his throat.
Crash!
The impact was violent enough to shake the entire kitchen, sending utensils clattering noisily to the floor. The shockwave triggered a chain reaction of clanging metal.
The din swallowed the groan that escaped Barisik’s lips as he collapsed onto the floor.
A smile followed the groan.
“Ha.”
He had aimed with the intent to kill. The man should have died.
Yet, just before the magic sword could slice through his neck, Barisik had been struck in the abdomen by a bare hand. His vision spun violently. Unable to withstand the sudden impact, he had dropped his sword.
“Barisik!”
Uin, who had rushed into the kitchen at the sudden noise, called out his name as she searched for him.
The chef watched the scene calmly. Separated from its master, the magic sword lay discarded amidst the cluttered kitchen utensils.
“…Your cooking was so good, I really thought you’d given up everything to focus on it.”
Even a swordsman in peak physical condition would have been clutching his stomach and gasping for air, but Barisik merely grimaced as he pushed himself back up and continued speaking.
“Your reflexes are still monstrous. I have to wonder if you go around clearing dungeons at night just to gather ingredients.”
“……”
Only then did Uin’s gaze lock onto the chef. He offered her a faint smile.
“Rashumer.”
Uin spoke the name gravely. The chef, however, did not react. He didn’t look flustered, nor did he ask what was happening. It meant he was neither hiding nor running.
The person on the order sheet was undoubtedly the chef standing before them.
The master who taught Hero Bern the sword, and the former Hero who had handed over his platinum emblem to step down from the front lines.
“Sir Rashumer Lichtenauer.”
“Ah, so much for the fake name. More importantly, drop the title. It’s embarrassing to be called ‘Sir’ when I’m not even a knight.”
“It is an honor to meet you. I am Uin Historia.”
“Yes, yes. But tell your order’s commander—Barisik, was it?—not to waste manpower by dragging the Hero along just to meet an old man.”
“That’s a bit harsh. Whether it’s the current Hero or the former Hero, take away the prefix and you’re both Heroes. It takes one of your caliber to even start a conversation.”
“…We would like to take our time explaining, but first, let me get straight to the point. Can you stand on the front lines for the Empire once more?”
“That fellow already asked. Which is why he was sprawling on the floor just now.”
“The Empire is in crisis. Sir Bern is dead.”
“Look here. Using my disciple’s name to guilt-trip me is an unspoken taboo. Do you really think hearing that name changes anything?”
“I will explain the details later, but due to the incident at Knecht, many of our knights have died.”
“How tragic. Are they buried in the Cuckoo’s Nest? I’m a busy man running a business, so I can’t visit them myself. You can lay a flower on their graves for me on your way back.”
“Sir Sturman was also gravely injured. In the process, the ‘Wall of Heart’ was reduced to dust.”
“What on earth did you do to shatter a Masterpiece?”
“For the sake of the Empire, and for its tens of millions of citizens.”
In response to Rashumer, who brushed everything off with a playful tone, Uin spoke with absolute resolve. At the weight in her voice, Rashumer’s eyes widened slightly.
“We need your strength, Sir Rashumer.”
“……”
“Please.”
“I refuse.”
And yet, Rashumer smiled. Smiling, he tossed back the pouch of money he had received earlier.
Uin, who had only equipped the gauntlet on her right hand in her haste, caught the pouch.
The coins clinked loudly against her gauntlet through the thin leather.
“You’re all mistaken. The Empire is already safe. If a man can make a living running a restaurant in a quiet countryside town like this, it’s already paradise. In fact, isn’t it wealthier and more prosperous than any kingdom?”
“That is…”
“The reason it’s always in crisis is because of one thing: you people are endlessly greedy for the wasteful act of dungeon subjugation. If you had used all that power to protect what you have, you could have easily weathered whatever came your way.”
“…Are you denying the necessity of subjugation itself?”
“That is why I hold a kitchen knife instead of a sword.”
Rashumer lifted the cleaver he had placed on the cutting board.
As Uin fell silent, Barisik, who had been listening from behind her, chimed in.
“Aha. So, former Hero, you enjoy this peace while all the other races are in turmoil? You must be thoroughly coddled by this life.”
“I mean that the power needed to protect is already sufficient. Just look right in front of you—we have such an excellent Hero right here.”
“You don’t like your disciple’s name being used, yet you have no problem using the current Hero as an excuse to refuse.”
Mixing a dry chuckle with his sarcastic tone, Barisik stood up and retrieved his magic sword.
His movements were sharp and dynamic. Realizing that words wouldn’t work, he intended to continue the fight.
But just as things were about to escalate, Uin spoke.
“I ask you one last time.”
Blocking Barisik with one hand, she bowed her head to Rashumer.
The former Hero’s eyes narrowed. Whether it was a Hero bowing or simply a young woman, the sight was not a pleasant one for him.
It could only be interpreted as a sign of sheer desperation.
“I’m sorry.”
Even so, his answer did not change.
“I am sorry.”
“There’s no need to apologize.”
—That’s not what I meant.
Muttering to herself with her head still bowed, Uin looked up. When she faced Rashumer again, her expression was overflowing with determination. She wore the face of someone who had made up her mind.
“Up to this point, Barisik and I were acting on our own, defying our orders. I had unilaterally assumed that Sir Rashumer, having walked the path of a Hero, would naturally offer his aid when the Empire fell into crisis.”
She equipped her other gauntlet.
“From now on, in accordance with the commander’s orders…”
Sensing the shift in the air, Rashumer set down his cleaver and grabbed a blunt weapon. It was a crude, heavy mallet used for tenderizing meat.
“…we will subdue you by force and escort you to Riaze.”
“Haha, I feel like a single graze from that sword or those gauntlets would send me straight to the grave.”
Though he smiled, there was not a shred of ease in his laugh.
He faced two opponents. One was a Hero possessing unmatched physical strength, and the other was a berserker wielding one of the 36 Masterpieces—a weapon that bound its target on contact.
“A request before we fight: at least leave one of my arms intact. I still need to hold a kitchen knife, a shortsword, or whatever else, don’t I?”
No answer came. Only a fierce Touki (Fighting Spirit) that dominated the space could be felt.
Uin, having readied her stance, lunged toward him at blinding speed.
Boom!
The restaurant wall exploded with a deafening roar.
* * *
“Young folks these days certainly have plenty of spirit. I like it.”
Through the half-destroyed ceiling, the sky was visible.
She was lying on her back.
…When the battle ended, Uin was on the floor.
Lying spread-eagled, she turned her head. The kitchen was a disaster. Not a single utensil remained in its proper place. Shattered tableware lay scattered in sharp fragments across the floor.
Amidst the wreckage, Barisik was also lying down.
“……”
Barisik remained silent for a long time, a complicated expression on his face. Meanwhile, the former Hero, Rashumer, was sitting on his prone back, chuckling in a gravelly voice.
“…Why are you sitting on me?”
“I can hardly sit on a lady’s back, can I?”
It was a complete defeat.
Barisik aside, Uin simply couldn’t wrap her head around it. She could only stare blankly at the sky with a bewildered expression. This was just unbelievable.
To not land even a single clean hit… no matter how she thought about it, it was just too much.
“There are three reasons for your defeat.”
“I don’t recall asking.”
“Well, the Hero over there has a very puzzled look on her face.”
Cutting Barisik off, Rashumer continued.
“First, the Hero’s attacks were too kind. This has two meanings. Miss Uin… that was your name, right? Your attacks lacked real killing intent. I suppose that can’t be helped. Seeing as a casual swing of yours shattered the wall, you probably can’t put your full strength into it.”
“If Uin actually hit with her full strength, the entire restaurant would have been blown away. What did you expect her to do?”
“And your style is too simple. Or perhaps ‘honest’ is a better word… You have monstrous strength to cover for those flaws, but against an opponent who has reached a certain level, it will prove fatal.”
As he spoke, Rashumer glanced at Uin. Her expression was stiff.
It was a simple deduction. There must have been an enemy Uin couldn’t handle, which was why they had suffered such losses and had so many vacancies in their order.
It wasn’t that an enemy existed who was immune to her monstrous strength. No, it wasn’t that her attacks didn’t work, but that they didn’t land. That was the correct way to put it.
‘My attacks are honest.’
Uin recalled her battle with Rene. She had clearly held the upper hand. If the battle had dragged on, she could have won… but what if she had been alone?
She didn’t think she would lose against blades that freely dominated the space. She was fully capable of countering the enemy’s attacks.
But even so, could she guarantee a victory?
“……”
The Blade Maid had never once been hit by Uin’s attacks. She had always subtly widened the distance after an exchange. Yes, as if she, too, could naturally dodge Uin’s strikes.
“And Barisik, swinging such a clumsy magic sword in a cramped space like this—how did you expect that to work?”
“Ha, I know that!” Barisik barked in frustration. He pushed off the ground with both arms to stand, but with a sharp, “Stay down,” Rashumer smacked his back, sending him sprawling once more.
“Who is this enemy that you must go to such lengths to fight?” Rashumer asked.
Neither Uin nor Barisik answered. There was no need to say it aloud; someone as sharp as Rashumer could easily figure it out anyway.
“Well, if you won’t say, so be it.”
In the brief silence that followed, the cook, who had stepped away earlier, approached through the gaping hole in the wall.
As if already familiar with Rashumer’s true identity, he began nagging loudly, shouting things like, “Did you break it again?!”
Only after the cook disappeared with a final warning of, “You’d better be ready for later,” did Rashumer, looking slightly cowed, restore the gravity to his tone.
“Are you two not going to ask me anything?”
“What would we gain by asking?”
“Spoken like someone who only ever looks forward.”
When Barisik answered in a breezy tone, Rashumer stroked his short beard, an amused expression on his face.
After a brief silence, Uin spoke.
“I heard that after passing the mantle of Hero to Bern, you turned your back on the Empire and went into hiding.”
“It wasn’t me who turned my back on the Empire. It was the Empire that turned its back on me.”
“So that’s what you wanted to say all along,” Barisik said with another sarcastic jab.
Rashumer laughed heartily, like a dwarf.
Only when Uin, who had been sprawled out, sat up cross-legged did Rashumer ask them.
“Since you’ve come all this way, I’ll at least hear you out. Mind you, that doesn’t mean I’m going to help. But if you have a tragic enough story, perhaps my heart might sway just a little.”