Chapter 8
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Headgates (1)
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"You've worked hard, Sir Zaroph. We'll be on our way then. Ah, I'll make the report to the administrator myself."
"Do that. If any issues come up, head to the inn we stayed at before."
"Winterflower, you mean? Understood."
"Good. Keep up the good work."
Guard saluted crisply as they passed through Headgates' gates. Lindelmann gave a light nod in return.
"Hyah!"
The wagon and garrison troops split off into one of the three branching main avenues of Headgates.
Lindelmann deliberately kept his eyes away from the wagon.
As if he didn't even want to think about anything related to it, he sharply turned his head and waited until the wagon and garrison troops had completely vanished from sight.
Only after some time passed did Lindelmann glance toward the direction they'd gone, confirming they were fully out of view before riding on with a relieved expression.
'Alright! Time to wash up, eat well, and get some solid sleep!'
With all his nagging worries gone, Lindelmann's mind filled with thoughts of a warm bath, a proper meal, and a soft bed.
But an odd vibe approaching soon forced him to shelve those happy imaginings.
Passersby kept staring at him.
'Huh? What's that about?'
Men, women, young and old—all sneaking glances with looks of surprise or dismay—made Lindelmann tilt his head.
Then something clicked, and he flinched.
'No way!'
Lindelmann tried to shake off the ominous feeling as he slowly turned his head.
His worst fear was spot on.
"Gah!"
A hulking figure almost eye-level with him on horseback stood right behind. Lindelmann gasped involuntarily.
"Why the shock?"
Blake—who he'd assumed had gone off with the wagon and garrison—was following right behind.
Lindelmann's face went slack as his plan fell apart.
"Wh-what the hell are you following me for?"
"The legion commander—no, the fortress commander—said it'd be best if I stuck with you for a while."
"Huh?"
Blake added to Lindelmann, who gaped in disbelief.
"Didn't you say earlier you'd go all the way to Alteria with me?"
"I never sa—ah!"
Lindelmann's attempt at denial cut short as he recalled what he'd said to Jude Hamilton at Brownstone Gate.
He had indeed said that.
But it was just to slip out of a tight spot—not the truth by any means.
"L-look here, Blake. That was just the heat of the moment. Besides, as you know..."
"I'm not keen on going all the way to the capital either. But sticking with me for now would be better for you, Sir Zaroph."
"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?"
Lindelmann cocked his head at Blake's words, which sounded less like a suggestion and more like a statement of fact.
"Those Credo Swordsmen were watching us just now."
"What? Wh-where?"
Lindelmann whipped around in alarm.
"They just headed off another way. But they'll come back. Especially that knight on the black horse—he'll definitely track me down."
"R-really? Oh, right!"
Lindelmann, relieved, jumped in eagerly.
"Like you said, they'll go straight for you, Blake—not me. Meaning it's got nothing to do with me!"
"It does."
"Eh?"
Lindelmann's triumphant look shattered as Blake stated it flatly.
"If I follow your advice to avoid trouble, I could vanish quietly right now. But if I go missing, who do you think they'll go after first?"
"Th-that... Urk!"
Lindelmann swallowed hard.
He'd come looking for him, no question.
Sure, they might not rough him up easily—but who knew?
He'd boasted about imperial orders and official duties, but they'd quickly uncover he was just a volunteer knight aspirant from the capital.
Maybe it'd be fine en route to the fortress, but now that his mission was done and he was heading back? An 'unfortunate accident' was all too plausible.
Alteria's officials, Headgates' administrator, even the Credo Swordsmen—they'd all turn a blind eye.
"Sticking together for a bit is good for both of us."
"...Let's do that."
Blake's level tone carried an odd persuasiveness, leaving Lindelmann no choice but to agree.
"Sir Hamilton, we're just letting them go like this?"
As Blake and Lindelmann prepared to leave together, one swordsman cautiously spoke up.
Jude, riding slowly while eyeing the easily spotted massive Blake, turned with a grin.
"Why?"
"Russ and Ben got taken down by that guy. And you're okay just walking away? I don't get it."
"Exactly!"
The others who'd seen their two gravely wounded comrades couldn't hide their anger, gritting their teeth.
Jude wagged a finger with a smile.
"Right. You don't get it—that's why I'm in charge and you're my subordinates. It's not just about swordsmanship."
"Pardon?"
"Don't you see?"
Jude swept his gaze over the swordsmen, then clucked his tongue in pity.
"Tsk tsk! If it'd just been that brute or the greenhorn from the capital, I wouldn't have stopped you. Numbers matter, after all—I might've even led the charge."
"Then why...?"
"Hear me out. The key is the Headgates garrison was there. No matter how stupid they are, they wouldn't think searching a wagon real quick is the same as killing someone right in front of the guards."
"Urgh... Still, letting them go scot-free..."
"Who said anything about letting them go?"
Jude countered with a cold smile.
"Pardon?"
"I said I wouldn't have stopped you if it was just the two of them."
"Ah! So then...?"
One swordsman let out a low exclamation as realization dawned.
Jude nodded, a cruel smile playing on his lips.
"Exactly. We'll take them out once they're outside Headgates. Follow 'em and hit 'em somewhere quiet. Kill off the ex-soldier scum, and cripple that pasty capital boy—break his limbs. You, tail them and find out where they're staying."
"Yes, sir!"
One swordsman swiftly pursued Blake and Lindelmann as they rounded the corner into the bustling district.
"As expected..."
The swordsmen's tense faces finally eased.
"But listen."
Jude turned to his men, his smile cold, eyes unsmiling despite the upturned lips.
"This is just some new entertainment. Our real goal here comes first—finding those girls. Got it?"
"Yes!"
"Understood."
The swordsmen, well aware of Jude's ruthless nature that spared not even subordinates, snapped back to attention.
"That's more like it."
A satisfied smile crossed Jude's face.
"Sir Hamilton!"
Men in similar garb approached from down the street—the ones they'd left in Headgates.
"Report."
"We scoured west of Horton Street and around Stone Street, but no one's seen them. Checked some wandering knights and out-of-town mercenaries just in case—same result."
"Hmm. That's odd."
Jude frowned at the report.
"Alright, listen up. Those two gave us a lead at least. If the girls left through the gates, they must've crossed paths. No need to search outside anymore. Just guard the north and south gates while combing Headgates—we'll find them."
"Yes, sir."
"Rest up, eat. Some of you relieve the gate watchers; the rest hit east of Horton Street, Dolway, and Roton. They're hiding like rats somewhere there."
"Yes, sir!"
"Heh! Noble girls who know a thing or two won't hole up in some fancy inn. Prioritize empty houses, dingy alleys—places good for laying low. Move fast, and we'll have their trail by morning."
"Got it!"
The Credo Swordsmen strode through the streets with puffed-up pride, their booming reply echoing.
Pedestrians shrank back, yielding the road.
Even mercenaries and wandering knights they passed did the same.
Most averted their eyes and slipped by; the few who glared hurried off upon spotting the Credo insignia.
Jude watched it all with satisfaction—until a sudden thought struck him.
"Why'd those girls come here anyway? Hoping some mercenary trash would save them? Hah! As if there's anyone near Headgates who could stand against us Credo and Lancaster knights. Stupid bitches..."
He muttered to himself, a venomous smirk curling his lips.
Roton Street was Headgates' busiest thoroughfare.
A wide avenue wide enough for two carriages stretched toward the main castle, dotted with narrow alleys that made it quite the maze.
The grand and modest buildings lining the main drag were mostly shops, but inns and pubs for travelers dotted the mix.
Lindelmann headed back to the inn he'd stayed at before leaving for the fortress.
Winterflower—first and second floors a restaurant-pub, third floor and rear annex for lodging—was Headgates' finest.
"Welcome... Gah!"
The clerk startled at Blake's sight but quickly masked it with a professional smile.
"Welcome! Staying the night? Or just dining?"
"One night."
"Main building third floor: one silver, no meals. Annex standard: three silver with meal and hot bath. Annex deluxe..."
Pricey indeed. He'd taken a third-floor room last time.
But things were different now.
He had a reliable patron footing the bill.
"Two annex rooms."
"Sorry, sir. Only one annex room left. Third floor has openings, though..."
"Hm."
Lindelmann scowled and glanced back, checking with his patron.
Blake shook his head.
"Being separated makes it hard to handle surprises."
"Urgh."
"Sirs? You seem to be together—share a room? Our annex rooms have two beds, designed for two or more."
The clerk suggested carefully.
As Lindelmann started to protest sourly, Blake cut in.
"We'll do that."
"Ah, wait, that's..."
Before Lindelmann could object, Blake handed over a gold coin he'd prepared.
The clerk blinked again—a tidy-looking knight who seemed well-off was one thing, but this monstrous bulk in ragged gear paying gold instead of silver?
"Th-thank you! Here's your change, sir!"
A seasoned clerk in Headgates' melting pot of oddballs, he swiftly made change and called the boy at the entrance.
"Escort them to the annex. We'll stable your horses across the street. Rest well."
"Tch. Fine."
"This way, sirs."
Lindelmann followed the boy without fuss.
From the moment they'd entered, the patrons' eyes had tracked them.
"Whoa, he's huge."
Blake, precisely.
Even in eccentric Headgates, his size and rough look stood out.
Winterflower's guests were mostly nobles or the wealthy, so Blake's wild vibe clashed hard, sparking curiosity aplenty.
"Mercenary?"
"The sharp one's a knight. Big guy's probably his guard merc."
Well-dressed patrons watched hungrily as Blake crossed the room.
Among them, a pale boy with striking green eyes tracked Blake's back from a second-floor corner table until he vanished.