Chapter 273
Chapter 273
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 273
Chapter Title: Entrance to Autumn #9
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Lately, I'd been dealing with a swarm of thugs and human hunters coming after me, which was getting pretty annoying.
But today, for some reason, not a single one showed up.
That was probably because the woman next to me was Hippolyte, a warrior with few equals in the city.
Clink.
The golden necklace around her neck was a symbol of utter dominance.
If it were me, a Samaritan, it might seem like a challenge to take me down and rack up some achievements.
But with Hippolyte wearing that golden necklace, most people wouldn't even dream of trying. She exuded an intimidating aura that kept them at bay.
Thanks to that, tonight felt unusually peaceful. Was there any safer spot in this city than by her side? The thought made me a little uneasy.
"Who's with Luna right now?"
"Antiope went to the cabin to meet Paranoy. They've been hanging out and chatting a lot lately. I have no idea what a former cultist nymph and Antiope could have in common."
"I see."
"Do you know the reason, Hassan?"
"Who knows."
Paranoy and Antiope—what an odd pair. Still, if they're getting along, it can't be a bad thing. Harmony is always good.
"So, what's with the brat?"
Then Hippolyte asked about the little Samaritan kid on my back. She'd been trying to hold back, but couldn't anymore.
Truth be told, I was curious about the kid too.
"This one charged at me, so I knocked 'em out. Couldn't just leave them passed out on the ground, so I put them in a room at the inn for now. I'll take them back to the temple tomorrow or something."
"The temple, huh? An orphan under Juno's care? I thought you were kidnapping a new bride candidate, since you're a Samaritan. Y'know, I heard Samaritans do that whole bride kidnapping thing."
I'd heard about the Samaritan bride kidnappings too.
The Samaritans who lived in tents in the wilderness would just kidnap someone they fancied for marriage and take them back to their tent.
It was mostly women kidnapping men, apparently because Samaritan women were unusually stronger and tougher than the men.
Damn, total Amazons.
Of course, the real Amazon was walking right beside me. Anyway, I said,
"You know I'm not like other Samaritans by now, right? And what's this about a bride candidate?"
"You don't know? That's a girl, Hassan."
"No way, for real?"
"For real—well, anyway, she's definitely a girl. I'm sensitive to the scent of strong women. That kid has the makings of a decent warrior."
Hippolyte sniffed and twitched her nose.
Damn, with the grubby long hair all tangled up, I'd thought it was a boy beggar.
Kids have that youthful look that makes it hard to tell. Seriously, it never crossed my mind it was a girl. Not that gender matters much.
After booking a room at the north gate inn, I roughly laid the passed-out barbarian kid on the bed. Then Hippolyte and I headed down to the first-floor dining hall for a casual meal.
Hippolyte poked at some dry sausage with her fork as she spoke.
"I've been hearing a lot about you lately. And seeing you up close, you look like hell."
"Pretty much."
"When I was still a girl, it was just like this for me. Thugs swarming from everywhere, endless slander. Ha. Brings back memories. Back then, every day was so brutal it was kinda fun."
How could days full of brutality be fun?
I always felt like Hippolyte's values were pretty different from mine. Did she see my daily grind of fights as some thrilling, action-packed life?
So I casually asked,
"Did you go through something similar when you were like me now, Hippolyte?"
"I had it worse than you. All sorts of ugly rumors flying around. But I wasn't the type to get shaken by that, and now look at me—living proof of victory."
"I see."
Hippolyte must have risen to fame as a beautiful adventurer, so naturally, all kinds of scandals followed. Probably tons of disgusting, nauseating stories. In this world, being a beautiful woman came with perks, but you had to endure the downsides too.
Hippolyte continued.
"Reputation is like a reed in the wind. It feels like the hell of criticism will never end, but people surprisingly don't care that much about others. If you don't give up and show results, the haters will dwindle, and supporters will rise up."
I'd been a bit anxious about how to turn things around, but her encouragement sparked some motivation. Had she come all this way to cheer me on?
"Cherish this moment, Samaritan. Gold becomes pure through the hammer's blows, purging impurities. This trial will be the most crucial turning point in your life."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"But you're just way too filthy. Unfit for a warrior like this."
At her words, I glanced down at myself.
I'd rinsed off my clothes and body with water after leaving the crematorium earlier, but I couldn't wash away the ingrained bloodstains or exhaustion.
"Many overlook appearances, but your looks reflect your inner state. Your disheveled exterior screams a disordered mind, making you easy prey for those itching to take a bite."
She had a point. Keeping up appearances was important in any world.
Even Hippolyte, who didn't seem big on grooming, trained hard to maintain her body and put effort into beauty routines, or so I'd heard.
For Amazons, beauty was strength, and strength was beauty.
Swish.
I subtly checked her out, making sure not to be rude. It had been weeks since I'd seen her, so she felt both familiar and new.
She had new teardrop-shaped crystal earrings I hadn't seen before, and her eyelashes looked longer—maybe a new makeup style.
"New earrings?"
"Y-yeah. Do they not suit the armor?"
"No, they look great. Some kind of artifact?"
At her level, even earrings would be enchanted accessories boosting strength or mana, not just for show. I'd heard they cost a few golds each—probably something like that.
Plus, Juno's priestess said artifacts related to water and fire were good to wear, right? Maybe those?
As I pondered, Hippolyte mumbled awkwardly.
"Nah, no effects. Just... y'know, they sparkle pretty, so I bought 'em."
"Got it."
I'd been acting all knowing, but my guess was way off, leaving me embarrassed. As I awkwardly sliced my sausage, Hippolyte stood up.
"You're too dirty; I can't focus. Come on, I'll clean you up nice."
*
*
*
Hippolyte borrowed a chair, basin, mirror, and apron-like thing from the inn. She hauled them up to the room, set them up haphazardly, and said,
"Sit. I'll trim you up."
She slapped the chair's backrest with her palm—dagger in hand—exuding real intimidation.
"Thanks, but I can handle grooming myself."
"I doubt you wield a blade better than me."
Hiss.
No arguing with that.
Who else I knew handled blades like Hippolyte? Made her the ultimate barber, in a way.
In the end, I sat as she said, apron on. Soon, she smeared some weird liquid gel on my face and jaw, working up a lather.
"Ugh, feels weird. What is it?"
"Shaving cream. Good for shaving or hair removal. Don't barbarians use this stuff?"
Makes sense. Nothing beats lather for a shave. Was Hippolyte an expert at hair removal? Curious, I asked casually,
"Do Amazons do hair removal too?"
Come to think of it, she was super smooth all over. Same with Antiope. Probably all Amazons. Then—shing—she drew her dagger and said coldly,
"Hassan, don't forget I have a razor to your throat."
Bad question. Soon, her sharp dagger crept slowly from my nape to jaw.
"I've never done it to myself, but I've done plenty for my sisters."
"Ah, got it."
Scrape.
The sensation of whiskers coming off was oddly satisfying. Even more so when left to someone else's blade.
The cool edge against my skin was vivid—chilling in every way.
One slip, and my neck could be severed. Even a short razor nicking the carotid would mean I'd bleed out.
In that sense, baring my throat to her was my own show of trust. And hers too.
Scrape, scrape.
Her skill was so good, the initial tension faded, and drowsiness set in.
Clink.
If not for her hard breastplate against my nape, I could've dozed off comfortably. When was the last time I'd felt this relaxed?
Ah, screwed.
Tension easing, my eyelids grew heavy. The debt from nights curled up like a feral cat, on high alert, came crashing back with interest.
As I drifted into a hazy daze, Hippolyte spoke.
"Truth is, I came to talk. Like it or not, you're Mars Guild's holy warrior. If you fall, the guild's rep tanks."
"I see. What do you want to say?"
"Not a bad deal for you. As I said, nothing raises a fallen rep like action. Just rack up achievements."
"Achievements, huh."
"Soon, the Entrance to Autumn opens. And it's crawling with beasts that give people headaches."
"Entrance to Autumn? What's that?"
"The remnants of Ceres's wrath—the endless winter she left behind. Like cracks of lingering grudge in the world."
I'd asked because I didn't know, but the explanation made it even vaguer. Beasts inside? Sounded like a dungeon.
"Hassan, you know Inquisitor Weiss Vine, right?"
"Weiss Vine..."
I remembered. A holy knight of Bacchus, god of wine, festivals, and madness.
Why bring him up here? As I wondered, Hippolyte said,
"He's looking forward to you joining the expedition to seal the Entrance. Departure tomorrow—the location's marked on this leather scroll."
"Ah— so, go there, slay beasts, build achievements."
"Exactly. Nothing proves strength like felling monsters. Me, Theseus, Perseus—even that terrifying Samaritan woman rampaging in the Black Wasteland—all built fame slaying beasts."
Indeed.
What better way to gain fame than named monsters?
That's why there are dragon hunters, lion slayers—specialists for powerful beasts. Hell, even I got a newspaper article for killing the goblin king.
Named beasts don't just drop from the sky, though, so opportunities were rare. This chance to face them was huge luck—and one I couldn't pass up.
"Handle this well, and you'll solidly promote to Silver Tier. Already discussed among guild brass, so count on it."
"My score hasn't hit 30 yet."
"Aura users get scores calculated like attack mages—with bonuses. Survive this rift, and you'll unlock aura, so no issue."
"..."
"Of course, if you survive. Die there, and it's over. Die or live and claim glory—your choice, Samaritan."
"Then obviously—"
No need to think.
Living hounded like this was as good as dead. Nowhere left to retreat, nothing left to lose—I took the map scroll from her.
"Hell, let's do it."
"May Ceres, goddess of autumn and harvest, not abandon you, Hassan. If you die, it'd hit me a little too."
[Author's Note] Entrance to Autumn...!!! The secret behind this chapter's title is finally revealed...!!
Hoping the typhoon ends soon and we get some cool autumn weather...
Side note, I love healthy, robust female characters... Hippolyte might be my most favored in that regard...
Even got two illustrations, one with Luna...