Chapter 282
Chapter 282
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 282
Chapter Title: Short Leisure #4
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In fact, drinking with Elfride wasn't the first time.
Back when I was still a slave, I had plenty of occasions to eat or drink with her.
Of course, it wasn't a relaxed drinking session—it felt more like sitting down for a company dinner with the boss.
Still, as our time together stretched on, I gradually got a read on this fairy named Elfride, and we could exchange conversation without crossing any lines.
Of course, today, I didn't need to worry about any of that.
I was Elfride's equal—a free citizen.
Soon, my tier would rise, making me an adventurer of the same silver rank. I'd also settled most of the debt I felt toward her in my heart.
With nothing holding me back, I shoved cold booze and steaming meat into my gut while rambling on about whatever came to mind.
"Calling you a twig—!"
"Shit."
Through the strands of Elfride's hair, I could see her pointed ears flushing bright red. She must be pissed that I teased her by calling her a twig. For some reason, Elfride really hated being called that.
Normally—or back when I was still a slave—this would've been a situation where her palm could fly at my face without warning, but she just trembled in place, holding it in without retorting much.
Is this the taste of freedom?
It felt like it was worth every bit of the 30 silver coins I'd scraped together over two years of hell.
"I'm not getting mad over stuff like that anymore. The master of my heart is me."
Elfride let out a sigh before downing her drink again. Whether from chugging beer nonstop or from holding back her anger, her pale face was exceptionally flushed.
I considered teasing her one more time, but then worried the tavern might catch fire again, so I decided to let it go. This woman was like a walking powder keg, after all—I needed to be careful.
That brought a brief silence. We'd been drinking so enjoyably just moments ago, but now this cold river of quiet flowing between us was sobering me up a bit.
"...."
"...."
Both she and I had important things to say, stories we needed to share, but it felt like we were in a staring contest to see who would speak first—our throats just itching.
Ever since that day.
Ever since the auction.
Elfride and I had deliberately avoided talking about the fire we'd set or the auction.
We'd both seen the depths of each other's humanity by then, so maybe we figured there was no need to poke at old wounds. At least, that's how I felt.
So, we just sipped at our innocent glasses.
"Innkeeper, more booze here. My glass is empty."
"Coming right up."
After downing five straight mugs of beer, I couldn't stand the sudden awkward silence anymore and spoke first.
"So, you seem like you have something to say to me. What is it?"
"Me? Something to say?"
"Yeah, I know you, Elfride. If there wasn't anything, you wouldn't have come looking for me. You must've scoured the inns to find where I was."
"...."
Elfride didn't answer, just set her wooden mug down on the table with a sharp clack. Seeing her ears twitch told me I'd hit the nail on the head.
Of course, it was just a tiny twitch, barely noticeable to anyone else. Only someone like me, who'd walked the tightrope of her whip, could spot it.
"So, what do you want to say to me?"
"Yeah, there is something."
Under my persistent questioning, Elfride admitted it readily. Watching her lips, wondering what would come next, I felt a twinge of tension—then she started glancing around evasively as she spoke.
"Now that you're silver tier, you'll have to head to Delphi."
"Delphi?"
"Yeah, silver-tier adventurers on this continent have to go there for the oracle."
"Oh, right, there was that."
"You didn't even know? Anyway, you'll be going to Delphi soon. And I happen to have business there myself—uhm—."
Elfride, who had been swearing coarsely and acting drunk just moments ago, suddenly started hemming and hawing. It made me uneasy too, chasing away all my buzz.
People have intuition, like it or not. When someone looks like they're about to say something super awkward or embarrassing, you end up feeling the same way.
Elfride kept umming and ahhing for a while after that. It wasn't like her at all. She was usually straightforward like a steam train, so seeing her hesitate like this was downright nerve-wracking.
"So, what is it you want to say?"
"Yeah, so... about Delphi. It's not like I couldn't go with you."
"What?"
When I asked again like I'd misheard, Elfride furrowed her brow slightly.
"I'll go to Delphi with you."
"Yeah?"
"From here to Delphi, even by carriage, it's a whole month. There are famous monsters popping up everywhere lately, and the world's gone to shit. Don't you need at least a mage in your party?"
Fair enough.
I pictured the month-long journey. Just like she said, we might run into bandit gangs, or weird gatekeepers blocking the passes. Plenty of bandits specialized in hitting carriages too.
Having been ambushed by bandits on a carriage before, I knew firsthand how much of a threat a mage was to them.
A mage was like a shotgun slung on your back—a powerful deterrent that solved most problems.
But I didn't quite get why Elfride needed to go to Delphi herself.
"Why are you going to Delphi? You're not just following me, are you?"
"Ha? Don't be ridiculous. I have my own business there. My stuff isn't all wrapped up yet."
"Burning the World Tree?"
"Yeah. The pursuers backed off this time, but my original sin is still hanging over me."
Indeed. The trial this time had only covered the crime of burning the city.
The pursuers from Alvheim wanted to put Elfride on trial not for torching the city, but for burning their sacred World Tree back home.
In the end, the root reason she was being chased hadn't been cleared. Going to Delphi wouldn't change that.
"Anyway, think it over. Delphi's a full month's trip even by carriage. If you're aiming for silver tier, you need to pick your party members carefully."
A month's trip.
Party members I'd have to see face-to-face for a whole month. Yeah, I'd need to be careful, just like she said.
Delphi, huh.
"Oh, and since tomorrow's your promotion day, you should probably be cautious."
"Cautious?"
"On promotion days, the seniors usually give you a 'baptism.' Think of it as hazing. Silver-tier adventurers might pick a fight with you."
"That's just great."
*
*
*
The day after my brief drinking session with Elfride.
I cleaned myself up decently early in the morning and stepped out of the inn.
Crack.
My first stop was the well behind the inn, where that damn club had lodged itself deep. It must've liked the well spot—it was rooted in tight and not budging.
"You little shit, just wait till I get back."
I'd grab an axe on the way and chop the roots out. With that in mind, my steps turned toward the Mars Guild.
But my mood was all mixed up—heavy or light, I couldn't tell.
Today, when I walked into the Mars Guild, I wouldn't be the rookie bronze-tier adventurer Hassan anymore—I'd be veteran silver-tier adventurer Hassan.
It was great, but with all the bad press right now, I worried there might be backlash to my promotion.
"A fire-starter getting silver tier? I can't accept that."
See? Called it.
The promotion ceremony was in full swing at the Mars Guild. Just as Hippolyte was about to hang the silver necklace around my neck, someone raised an objection.
Didn't something like this happen when I got promoted to bronze?
Nothing ever goes smoothly, huh. I was narrowing my eyes with that thought when Hippolyte spoke up from the platform in my stead.
"You're Slayer Calipha, right? I heard you were away on a long commission. When did you get back?"
"For Her Majesty Hippolyte to remember my name—I'm at a loss for words."
Whoosh.
A fairly burly man rose from the crowd.
His bare upper body bulged with muscles and scars, crossed by X-shaped belts, and his face was striking with fiery red hair and beard like some villainous wrestler.
He looked strong at a glance. Probably a Mars Guild adventurer who operated outside the city. The necklace around his neck was silver—silver tier, no doubt.
The man named Slayer Calipha spoke again.
"I can't agree to that guy being silver tier like me. Ever heard of this body, Slayer Calipha? I killed the bulls of the Demoss Wastelands with my bare hands, smashed the tree monsters of Geryon. A real man's man, you could say. But what has that guy done besides set a city on fire?"
Laughter erupted here and there. Some folks whistled in agreement with Slayer Calipha.
Elfride had warned me there might be hazing on promotion day, so be careful. And here it was. Watching it unfold was almost funny.
Whoosh.
"Hassan?"
I stepped in front of the man speaking to the crowd, cutting off Hippolyte who was about to respond.
His build was intimidating with all that muscle and scars, but up close, the guy was a full head shorter than me.
So I naturally looked down on him, and he had to look up at me. But even under that physical intimidation, he didn't flinch.
"Savage bastard. Think staring me down will scare me off?"
"...."
"I heard the rumors about you, savage. Caught a lion with your bare hands, smashed mecha golems. The riffraff might buy that bullshit, but not me."
"Then quit yapping and come at me, asshole."
At my words, the man grinned. He'd probably been waiting for me to take the bait. Then he clasped his hands behind his head—Calipha.
What the hell? Showing off his pits? It was a mind-breaking attack all its own. No dark magic needed; it made me grimace involuntarily.
"Shit, that's dirty, pulling a move like that. You fucking prick!"
"What attack? I'm Dual-Axe Calipha. They call me the Beheader Calipha too."
He gripped an axe in each hand from the pair crossed on his back.
Shing, shing.
The X-shaped leather on his torso wasn't some fetish gear—it was axe sheaths. Crude and worn, but they looked serviceable.
Zing.
Right then, the sensor at the back of my neck prickled. I whipped my head back, and a sharp axe blade whistled horizontally past the tip of my nose by a hair.
Slash.
But at the same time, my nose bridge and cheek tore open, blood spraying. I'd dodged, so why?
Looking closer, the confidently grinning Calipha's axes hummed with a yellowish, bright glow—like a coating thickening the blade.
"Damn—."
I'd misjudged the distance. Hippolyte had drilled it into me: control your spacing against aura users. Guess you really learn it best through live combat.
A veteran silver tier—yeah, he could coat his weapons in aura. Confident enough to provoke me like this.
"Oho, you dodged that—."
As I touched my bleeding nose and backed off, the man laughed in surprise.
More like bared his fangs with a twisted face—a feral beast of a guy.
Hoo.
Still, I'd avoided the worst—my nasal passages were fine. Just skin scraped, blood flowing heavy, but breathing was no issue.
Calming myself and gathering my energy, the bleeding soon stopped. Only then did I take in the surroundings.
Grumbles from those who disliked me. Onlookers watching the fight with interest. The dual-axe savage ready to kill me without hesitation.
Situation as shitty as ever.
No club—just my bare hands against an axeman's reach. Could I win?
Hoo.
I took a small deep breath. Focus on the life force surging from my lower abdomen. Clenching and unclenching my left and right fists, vital energy overflowed with my blood through my gauntlets, shining bright.
It was the activation of my grace, Radiant Hands. Seeing my fists glow like daylight beacons, some folks clicked their tongues.
"Look at that. He's wrapped his fists in energy!"
"No way, isn't that the elves' high monk technique? Never thought I'd see it for real."
Of course, it was a bluff.
My hands just glowed—that was it. But if it threw the opponent off for that split second, it was enough.
The unknown breeds fear. I knew that better than anyone, scaredy-cat that I was. To others, these eerie fists looked packed with mystical power.
Sure enough, the silver-tier adventurer confidently gripping his axes had his smirk falter—I saw it clearly.
Bang.
I didn't miss the moment, stomping the ground twice. My body sliced through the air, breaking into steady speed.
"Tch—!"
"Huh, he's gone—!?"