Plan
He picked up the black sword tucked away in the farthest corner and turned around. "This one."
There was a reason they'd built such a massive mansion. The room was filled with hundreds—no, thousands—of weapons on display: swords, spears, knuckles, and more.
"Are you really going with that one? Just to be safe, but it's not a magic weapon. Not the kind of standard gear modern swordsmen chase after..."
The head of the Barden family eyed the sword with a peculiar glint in his gaze.
Perfect length, unmatched durability, and sharp enough to cleave bone clean through. No doubt about it. This was Barsha's Sword.
"I like it. You can't compare a masterfully tempered black iron blade, forged thousands of times over, to some half-baked magic sword, right?"
It bordered on an insult, but the family head only smiled faintly, nodding as if delighted.
"A true connoisseur of swords, I see. You're absolutely right."
Tanas played along with the head's words, piling on the praise. "And finishing the final quench with mithril? That shows real meticulous craftsmanship."
"Hahaha! You noticed? Embarrassing to say it myself, but we used holy water in the smelting, so the divine power conductivity is..."
Had it been tough buttering up customers lately? The excited head launched into a rundown of the sword's features, and Tanas nodded along, chiming in at the right moments.
"...A swordsman of such profound knowledge wielding Barsha's Sword would surely delight my father. As for the price... yeah, just 1 gold."
"1 gold?"
Not half off—practically free. The head let out a sigh, glancing at the other customers before muttering under his breath.
"Just between us, I never wanted to make magic swords. The era demands them, that's all..."
"I can't just take a masterpiece like this for nothing." Tanas pulled out a hefty pouch and set it on the table with deliberate flair.
"N-No, you don't have to... All of it?!"
"Didn't you call it an ancestral masterpiece? A fine sword deserves its due."
Not for nothing had he split his gold between inventory and pouch. Showmanship—most of it stayed tucked away in storage.
The head stared at the pouch for a long moment before slowly nodding. "If that's your will, swordsman, we'll gratefully accept. Butler, fetch the gear."
Obtained Barden Family Head's favor in record shortest time.
• Influence generated in nearby regions.
• Reputation increases each time the family head mentions your story.
Current value: 1
Just testing the waters, but as expected...
This confirmed it. He'd realized it back when he sweet-talked the sub-tower master into the treasure vault, but unlike the game's rigid choices, this world had high freedom. Snagging the family head's trust in one go, raiding a mid-game treasure vault in the prologue—the proof was piling up.
Play this right, and I could claim the Demon King's head in no time.
"Lord Tanas, if I may—would you grace our humble Barden armor as well?"
"Afraid I'm tapped out now."
He shook his head side to side, feigning regret.
"Haha! No, no—that's not it. Just a token of my esteem. Please accept."
"Hmm."
"As head of Barden, I can't just send off someone showing this much goodwill... I'd have no face left for our ancestors."
Tanas eyed him for a beat, then nodded as if reluctantly won over. "Guess I can't refuse."
"I'd love to keep good ties with you going forward, Lord Tanas. I'll pick out the best from protection bracers to shoulder guards."
They moved from the room to the central hall.
"The picky Barden head personally seeing off a guest? Live long enough, you see everything!"
"Who the hell's that guy?"
"Never seen him around here...?"
Eyes locked on them in an instant.
"......"
He knew he was handsome, but this much staring was a bit much. A strange murmur from behind—he turned.
"Ugh...!"
His gaze met the haughty noble lady from the entrance. Eyes brimming with wariness, hands raised like a cat caught swiping fish, she stared back.
But... Whatever. Not my problem.
"H-Hey, wait...?"
Barsha's Sword in hand, family head's trust secured, armor on top. Nothing left to do here.
"You're not ignoring me, are you?!"
Just head to the borderlands now.
"Lord Tanas, starting with these wrist guards, shoulder pads..."
"Thanks. Catch you next time."
He scooped up the armor and strode out of the mansion without a backward glance.
"H-How dare you treat me like a fool?! Stop right there!"
Weather was decent—if he hustled, he'd hit the borderlands by morning. Grab a bite first; stomach was growling...
"You there, commoner."
"You thought you could insult Lady Lein and walk away?"
Chak! A pack of thugs blocked his path with a dramatic sound effect.
What the hell are these idiots? He glanced back.
"Haa... those fools..."
The blonde beauty sighed in exasperation, shaking her head.
"......"
Not even a proper warm-up.
In a study bathed in soft lamplight, a woman in a black veil set her wine glass on the table.
"Still no trace?"
"Yes."
As if. Not some other hero—failing to handle one useless one? She gnawed her nails anxiously.
Should've never trusted a mere porter.
Had she underestimated the useless hero?
"......"
No. The one she'd sent was top-tier among porters. She'd bribed him with a fortune to override his refusals...
But he glommed onto the Swordmaster right away. And whoever did it took his arm—he'd never take their commissions again.
Of course, even if he'd slipped away, it was just a minor annoyance. Nothing major. Weakest of the five heroes, after all...
Bang!
An intruder flung the door wide and stormed in.
"Who dares be so rude...!"
No servant report had tipped her off, but she'd half-expected it. Still, she feigned shock, hand to her mouth.
"Look at this!"
Lustrous pink locks, pristine white dress—an exquisite girl glared daggers with eyes full of fury.
Insolent bitch... She clicked her tongue inwardly but signaled her attendant with a nod, keeping her face neutral.
"Lady Seria, calm down."
"How can I?! How badly do you have to botch a job for this?!"
"Cool your anger. You're to be the Saintess soon, aren't you?"
The pink-haired girl swallowed hard, snapping back to herself.
"Hah... I'm just a candidate for now... That's not the point!"
Vulgar orphan—zero grace.
"What has Lady Seria so worked up?"
"Read it."
"This is..."
She caught the tossed parchment, scanning it top to bottom.
Useless hero bastard should've died clean. What a pain...
As expected: his exoneration.
Better this way. Easy to spin.
She smiled faintly at the fuming girl. "Laughing now? The Swordmaster throwing herself at him! How do we fix this?!"
"Lady Seria, no need to worry."
"No worries? Such irresponsibility...! We did what you said, and look! If I'd known..."
She lifted her wine glass with elegant poise. "Care for a glass? Fine bouquet."
"Don't change the subject! You think this is a joke?!"
If not for the mission, I'd rip this rude girl apart...
"It's a good sign."
"Good sign...?"
"Men are simple creatures."
She sipped her wine, steadying her breath. "Lady Seria, what if she stole him from you?"
"Stole him? That..."
Just a hypothetical, but the girl bit her lip, trembling all over.
No need to spell it out. The hero thinks the same. "You've got years of shared memories with him, don't you, Lady Seria?"
"Our memories, just us two..."
"Not even certain the Swordmaster's interested... You're overthinking it."
"But..."
"Wait in the capital. When he's cleared and released, be the first to comfort him. Apologize—say you were fooled too, that you're a victim."
"He won't buy that..."
"No, he will. He came back to you despite chances for glory in other hero parties."
"......Mm."
"Any other party member might differ, but not you, Lady Seria."
"Me?"
"You're special."
"R-Right?"
Whatever fantasy she spun, the pink-haired girl flushed, smirking slyly.
Not thrilled, but no need to show it.
"Have I ever been wrong? Urging him to grab a Divine Weapon blindly, telling the others to torment him..."
"......"
"All my ideas, right?"
"...Yes."
The Saintess candidate mumbled, glancing warily again.
"Whenever he felt isolated and alone, what happened?"
"That..."
She gulped, unable to answer.
"Didn't he crave your affection more?"
"...Yes."
"Same this time. Just needs a little time."
"Really?"
"Of course. No need to rush."
Still doubts after all that? Paranoid girl.
"And you're forgetting something... You owe me, Lady Seria."
"...Ah."
"Without me, you'd still be fighting other women over him. ...Or not!"
"......"
"Maybe he'd have forgotten you."
"Forgotten? No way..."
She cut in before she finished. "Let's not have this rudeness again. Understood?"
"S-Sorry. I just got mad without thinking..."
"No, it's understandable. More importantly..."
Reason for entertaining this fool:
"When you become Saintess... you won't forget our deal?"
"Ah... Of course! How could I? I'm no ingrate!"
"Good to hear."
Just endure a bit longer. Until the Demon King descends upon this land.