10. The Hero
Perhaps because word had traveled ahead of them, the moment the party returned to Evian, they were greeted by the remarkable sight of not only Viscount Cartein but even Bishop Pobi himself crowding out to the city gates to wait for them.
The birth of a Hero, Ludwig—and a Saint, the first in hundreds of years. Enormous news on its own.
And even more staggering: the Saint was Vigrind, of the Evian diocese itself.
In an instant, Evian had become the diocese that produced a Saint. It was the kind of news neither Viscount Cartein nor Bishop Pobi could possibly have failed to come running for at the first word.
But that was their business. The adventurers couldn't have cared less.
Whether a Demon King had appeared or not, dealing with it was the Hero and the Saint's problem. To Yona and Alec, it truly was none of their concern whatsoever.
"Hey, Baldy. Let's go get something to eat."
"How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me Baldy? I'm telling you, I'll shave your head while you sleep. I mean it."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever you sayyy."
Now that they were inside the city, Yona felt free to plant a hand on top of Alec's head.
Running her palm over his smooth, utterly hairless scalp somehow put her at ease. Which was exactly why traveling with Alec was so comfortable—because it was nice, that was all.
"Mary, could you collect our pay for us?"
At Yona's words, Mary—who was run off her feet with cleanup—shot her a sidelong glare. She was drowning in work, and they wanted her to collect their reward money on top of it? However close she was to Yona, wasn't that pushing it a bit far?
"Where are you off to this time?"
"We've gotta eat, don't we? I'm not asking you to do it for free."
Yona fished a coin out of her pouch and flicked it at Mary. Mary caught the spinning coin with a satisfying clack against her palm—and when she looked up, Yona and Alec were already gone.
"He's fast as lightning when it suits him..."
Mary sighed and opened her hand. A single copper coin sat in her palm.
"I honestly thought you were going to die."
Walking side by side with Alec, Yona gave an involuntary shudder.
Seriously, she'd been certain Alec was about to drop dead right there. He'd been pale as a corpse, not a drop of color in his face, stammering and shaking like a leaf—in hindsight, the very picture of a man at death's door.
Adventurers lived unusually close to death.
No matter how strong you were, no matter how seasoned, a stray arrow or a blade from out of nowhere could take your head off the instant your guard slipped.
Perhaps humans strong enough to reach Gold rank were a different story, but Silver and Bronze adventurers, however skilled, died just as easily as anyone else when a sword found them.
And so she had seen adventurers die in truly staggering numbers.
Worse, most of the fellow students she'd trained alongside at the cathedral—
"What's with that look now, you brat? I'm not dying. If I died, who'd drag your ass around?"
And there he goes, digging himself another hole to crawl into.
Alec reached out and ruffled Yona's hair. Her stubborn strands crackled dryly with every pass of his hand.
"Hey, look at this punk. Listen, there are plenty of guys who'd be dying for the chance to travel with me even without you."
"I'm sure there are. But tell me—where else are you going to find a Guard who reads you as well as I do?"
"Well—"
That much, though.
Yona couldn't quite bring herself to say it.
No need to say it out loud. He already knows.
And with that thought, Ludwig drifted unexpectedly into her mind.
"...Huh. I didn't expect him to actually be the Hero."
"Ludwig?"
"Yeah."
"To be fair, he did have the air of one."
Before they knew it, their wandering feet had carried them to the Moon & Star Inn.
Pushing open the wooden door of the round-the-clock establishment, Yona scanned the interior. The Perpetual Stew still boasted its familiar foul odor. Adventurers clutched a bowl each, faces buried in it, slurping away. One by one, bowls were set down quietly in front of Yona and Alec as they took an empty table.
There was nothing else on the menu anyway, so stew it was—but Yona figured that after the day they'd had, they deserved to treat themselves a little.
"Two barley loaves as well."
"So you actually made some money."
"Sure did. And a beer each."
"Right, got it."
For once, the innkeeper answered out loud before disappearing back into the kitchen. Steam rose in thick curls from the stew.
Beans, chunks of pork, unidentifiable fish, and lumps of vegetable, all jumbled together and simmered low. It looked unappetizing—and it tasted about as good as it looked.
Still, once you got used to it, it was more or less edible. At the very least, it beat expedition rations eaten out on the road by a wide margin.
Yona lifted her wooden spoon and ladled up a mouthful of broth.
"Hah."
It was on the salty side this time. Probably a batch from just before fresh broth was added, when the liquid had boiled down considerably. Well, this much was perfectly fine by her.
That feeling of the warmth spreading through her stomach, heating her up to just the right degree of comfort—it wasn't half bad.
"Huh. The stew here's actually decent today."
Alec looked much the same.
"Right? It's passable. Broth's got some body to it, and there's more meat in it than most places."
Yona snickered and dug into her stew. Every time she gulped down the thin red broth, she found a surprising richness to it.
The first time she'd come here, she'd wondered if this was what they served to garbage disposals—though, then again, maybe her palate had simply gone to ruin since.
"So. What's the plan now?"
Alec asked the question around a mouthful of barley loaf, tearing off a hunk and shoving it in.
"Hard to say."
Yona answered vaguely, sliding a cup brimming with water across to him. Even without any preamble, she knew exactly what he was asking.
"We'll have to leave soon, I figure. We killed a demon, so things should stay quiet for a while."
"Won't there be plenty of parties out there to strip-mine, though?"
Alec had barely picked up his beer mug before Yona raised hers to clink it against his. Not being glass, it didn't exactly go cheers—more a dull, wooden thock.
"Honestly, I get the feeling there's nothing worth looting there anyway."
"Really? Then that settles that."
Alec nodded readily. He picked up the water pitcher, refilled Yona's cup, already drained empty, and then filled his own.
"I'd honestly like to set out first thing tomorrow, but..."
Yona murmured the words half to herself. But with a guest expected here, it would feel reckless to just bolt.
"Why?"
When Alec asked, Yona glanced at him, then stood.
"Let's take this upstairs and talk."
"What kind of girl invites a man into her room without a second's hesitation?"
At that, Yona's face twisted in outrage and she kicked Alec square in the shin. There was a solid thud, but Alec, armored in his protective gear as always, didn't seem to feel so much as a twinge—he just kept snickering.
"Keep talking like that and get out, you ass."
"Kidding, kidding. Anyway—why? What's up?"
Alec asked as he set the food down on the table in Yona's room. The table was small and there was only one chair, so Alec took the chair while Yona perched on the edge of the bed.
"I went to see Alevian."
"Ugh."
Alec's face soured as well. That elf, whose eyes always seemed to have a screw loose somewhere, was uncomfortable to even hear mentioned. The way his eyes lit up the instant he saw Yona—Alec had actually caught himself wondering whether he should add the elf to his list of romantic rivals, before deciding surely it would never come to that. An unpleasant creature, regardless.
"What did you want with that creepy elf?"
Yona scooped up a spoonful of stew broth.
With the bowl nearly empty, her wooden spoon scraped audibly against the bottom, and Alec, without a word, ladled the stew from his own bowl into hers.
"My arm—this thing on it. I figured he might know something, so I went to ask."
As she nonchalantly ate the stew Alec had served her, Yona lifted her elbow slightly to show him.
"He didn't know anything. Said he'd look into it, and that he'd come here if he turned something up. So I figure we lounge around for a few days, and if Alevian shows up, we ask him, and then we head out. Simple."
Yona set down her spoon and took a drink of water.
"Actually, now that we're back in the room, might as well take another look at it."
She unclipped the fastener from her shoulder and began unwinding the Holy Shroud. Every time she did this, Alec worked hard to keep his eyes anywhere but the glimpses of bare skin—the sliver of Yona's underarm revealed as the shroud came loose.
Alec picked up the trailing end of the shroud as it pooled onto the table and rolled it up, coil by coil. And as the wrappings fell away, the black markings on Yona's shoulder came into view, spreading down past her upper arm to her elbow, from her elbow down her forearm.
And then her wrist.
"...Huh?"
A dumbfounded sound escaped Yona's lips.
"Hey, what the...?"
Alec's voice was equally blank.
That pitch-black script—the tattoo that had ended, unmistakably, at her wrist—had now spilled over, filling Yona's hand completely.
"Why did it spread? What happened to it...?"
Yona held up her hand and stared.
The back of the hand. The palm. Every finger. The characters packed the skin so densely that not an inch of her fair complexion showed through.
"What... what is this..."
"What on earth are you saying, Hero?"
Pobi had barely managed to keep his expression in check. It was a face that had very nearly soured into a scowl—yet the fact that he caught himself at the last moment spoke to his considerable experience.
"I mean exactly what I said, Bishop."
Ludwig—Lud—smiled broadly from his seat.
"Exactly what you said or not, I can't make sense of it. Why, in Heaven's name?"
"The Saint is the heart of any party, is she not? The Hero, Ludwig. Am I wrong?"
Since the statement was, in any case, true, Vigrind—now the Saint—nodded slowly. But that didn't make it any less baffling.
"It is merely a report that the Hero and the Saint have received a revelation. And, following that, a discussion of the Hero's Pilgrimage we are soon to undertake. That is all. What could possibly be so shocking about it?"
Lud looked genuinely puzzled. Unable to understand why they were all so startled, he glanced around at the assembled company: Saint Vigrind, Bishop Pobi, and Sister Aize, the instructing nun.
Through it all, Aize alone wore no expression of surprise whatsoever.
"You are saying that, in the course of this, you intend to take that healer—this Yona—into the Hero's party. And that is not shocking?"
"...Of course it is shocking. How could it not be?"
"Is it, now?"
Lud folded his hands comfortably and leaned back in his chair, that easy, refreshing smile still resting on his face.
"In any case, that is my decision. That healer, Yona—she will prove invaluable. I am certain of it."