028. It's a Coincidence
“Hillon Kargil the hero has returned!”
Hillon Kargil's return threw Hotenwork into an uproar.
Whether for better or worse, his homecoming carried immense weight.
The lord and townsfolk rushed out to learn the outcome of his battle, but he hopped straight onto the teleportation magic circle and vanished.
Abandoning Granada, who had descended on the Demon King's orders to assemble a new mercenary band.
And Granada found himself facing an unexpected reunion.
“...What the hell are you lot?”
It was pure coincidence—spotting those familiar faces boozing it up and yapping away in the tavern inside the mercenary guild.
“C-Captain?”
“Y-You're alive?”
“Stop.”
His eyes whipped around. The ones gearing up to bolt plopped back into their seats with awkward grins.
“Do I gotta beat some sense into you one by one? Or you gonna behave?”
“Haha...”
“The avalanche swept us all up, so we played dead and bailed... We weren't gonna pull off anything big anyway, and life's the most precious thing...”
“We thought it was fishy how one avalanche wiped the whole group...”
Not dead—just deserted.
“And you figured you'd still pocket the pay, huh?”
These goddamn mutts.
After one betrayal from a hero, he'd grown hypersensitive. This was no different from his own crew ditching and betraying their captain.
“C-Captain! We're not powerhouses like you—we had no choice!”
“Erjest Mountains were way beyond us grunts from the start.”
Objectively, the Red Hawk Mercenaries weren't pushovers. Sure, only about twenty strong, but every last one was mid-tier or better.
If they were any less, Berge wouldn't have shelled out a fortune for their time.
As he scowled, the woman sitting with the mercenaries spoke up.
“Are you the captain of the Red Hawk Mercenaries?”
“Did I pick up new blood without noticing?”
Even as he said it, he pegged her as no mercenary. Her getup didn't match theirs at all—more knightly.
“Pleased to meet you. I'm the hero Kaede. And you must be the infamous elf, Granada.”
Those emerald eyes gleaming through her radiant golden blonde left an impression. Her aura was no joke either. And above all, stunning.
“Hero...?”
“Yup, Captain. This hero here treated us to a feast just to pick our brains.”
“Join us for a round, Captain!”
The mercenaries scrambled to pivot the topic, but Granada's glare shut them up. His tone softened a touch.
“What's a hero doing in Hotenwork?”
“Joining the hero expedition.”
“That...”
“I know. Too late.”
Kaede shook her head.
“Circumstances kept me from making it on time, but I figured even late, there'd be a shot—so here I am.”
But by arrival, Waton the hero and part of the expedition had already descended. Morale in the dumps.
Disappointing, yet she spied one hope.
“Hillon the hero's still up the mountain. Couldn't charge up blindly, so I was chatting with these folks.”
“Yeah, we were on the expedition too—came back down, didn't we?”
“Dropped out first.”
“Ahem.”
Bark cleared his throat.
“Wrong crew for expedition intel. Embarrassing as it is, these idiots fled without seeing real action.”
“I wondered. They didn't know squat.”
The mercenaries flinched.
“But looks like I'm in luck.”
“Meaning?”
“Met you, Granada.”
“Luck's got nothing to do with it—bad news.”
“Huh?”
“I stuck with Hillon the hero to the bitter end. Me being here—what's that tell ya?”
“...No way?”
Her face paled.
“Yup. Expedition flopped. Hillon and the rest bailed.”
“Impossible...”
“Hillon teleported out pronto. Official word dropping soon. We failed—didn't even glimpse the tower.”
“...Mind the full story?”
“Eh, my time ain't cheap...”
“Name your price...! Whatever it takes!”
Her desperate stare made flat refusal tough.
“...Ridiculous.”
From start to finish. Kaede rejected every word from Granada's mouth.
“Demon King's tower not at the peak? Never.”
“Never happened before—guarantee it never will? I'm living proof.”
“......”
Preconceptions are terrifying. The shock when 'obvious' flips.
That's why Berge—ditching canon entirely, twisting it—was brilliant.
“Anyway, zilch found. Expedition bust. Hero, cut losses and head elsewhere.”
“...Guess you're right.”
Too late to rewrite the ending.
“Honored meeting the famed Granada.”
“Where to?”
“One spot for heroes...”
“Welcome!”
New patrons strolled in. Robed types covering half their bodies—dime-a-dozen mercenaries.
Except.
'Decent...?'
Their vibe set them apart, drawing eyes.
“What?”
“...Choked.”
Kaede hunched over, coughing lightly. Not flushed enough for a real choke.
“Anyway...”
She fake-coughed.
“Hero Guild for quests.”
“No expeditions like this anytime soon.”
Hero runs usually hit tower floors, not slay the king. Full commitment battles only if heirs snatched—like now.
“Fair enough. Ah, bill's on me as promised. Finish up.”
Kaede dropped silver coins and split.
'Classic rookie hero.'
Talent aplenty, but brittle mindset. Blind faith in self breeds fame-chasing disasters.
“Stop.”
“Ahaha...”
“Kinda swamped...”
Bark and crew, sneaking off with her, plopped back down.
“Why the stunt?”
“Survival instinct?”
“...Be real—Erjest ain't our league.”
Mercs prize rep and credit. Pride's there, but few bet lives on it.
Granada didn't judge. Instinct to live's natural. Erjest crushed them for sure—ghosts haunting if they'd tagged along.
'Least the survivors...'
Captain Bark, maybe.
“Alright, say your case holds water. But that's not why I'm pissed.”
“Huh?”
“You spineless pricks. No loyalty whatsoever. Plot to bail behind my back? Your captain?”
“That part...?”
Bark stammered.
“My life's disposable? Erjest safe minus Demon Kings?”
Hell, even Hillon'd end monster chow once drained.
“But Captain...”
“Shh.”
Granada clapped a hand over Bark's mouth. Eyes flicked back.
The shady bunch fiddling with food in the corner rose.
Fishy from entry—not merc vibes.
'Tailin' Kaede?'
She'd seemed pursued—spot on.
'Stirred some shit?'
Some heroes got cocky, wreaking havoc.
Kaede didn't strike that way.
'Not my circus.'
Down here on Demon King's command: leverage expedition fame for mercs.
Piled-up tasks—no bandwidth for side dramas.
"Found Her Highness. Hotenwork south of plaza, west ~500m. Just left the 'Orc's Dance' tavern. Everyone converge pronto."
A whisper. Magic barrier muffling for outsiders.
But no blocking determined elf ears.
'Her Highness?'
Honorific for royals.
'...Princess?'
Royal heroes rare, not unheard of. Nothing wild.
But princess or hero? Princess trumps.
Beyond top-tier fame, hero gig offers zilch over royal perks.
'Princess heroing...'
Usually knights and troops swarm as escort.
Or flat-out forbidden.
Royalty—good or ill, national asset.
'Can't sit this out.'
Curiosity peaked; Granada stood.
“H-Hey? What's up?”
“Back soon. Run while gone, you'll regret.”
Left Bark sputtering, hit the street. They'd melted into the crowd.
'Doesn't mean unfindable.'
Eyes shut, ears perked. Elf senses sifted the din.
'Comms say more inbound.'
Pursuit squad for the princess, likely.
Hunted rhythmic, trained footfalls.
'Gotcha.'
Snagged a cheap mask from a vendor. Layered perception-block magic.
No poly or illusion fancy stuff, but beats nothing. Instinct screamed: no ties as Granada.
Past plaza, over boulevard, toward converging steps.
Scuffle and clangs. Weapon strikes.
Sparse alley, dim light, faint stink.
Rat-haunted sewer scraps—cluster of similar ragtags.
Kaede smack in the middle.
“Who goes there.”
Shing—
One merc walling her off zeroed Granada. Pristine blade gleamed.
Hands up, Granada eased forward.
“Heard racket, wandered in.”
“Masked like that.”
“Basic precaution. Smells off, right? That sword's prime merc gear.”
“Scram.”
Merc growled low.
“Not your beef. Walk away like nada. Or...”
“Or?”
Granada grinned. Merc stiffened.
“Shady as hell—gonna wipe me?”
“Not your scenario. Final warning: beat it. No mercy after.”
Dozens unsheathed. Icy killing intent needled skin.
“Would if I could...”
Granada's lip curled.
“My boss'd love this drama.”
“Boss?”
“That girl.”
Eyes skimmed past to Kaede.
“Princess, yeah?”
“Die.”
Flash erupted.
Slash—
Granada's locks sheared. Mid-fall fragments, sword bee-streaked.
Clanggg—
Hastily drawn blade quivered.
Blocked. Barely.
Unchecked force tumbled Granada. Unexpected chain gritted teeth.
'Tough bastard!'
Unlike the rest—hid strength from senses.
Coolly hilted full, aura-sharded blade. Hundreds leaf-darts launched.
“Parlor tricks.”
Man traced line. Slash warped space, mulched leaves, nose-close.
Clanggg—
Shattered guard, rebounded. Skidded near ten meters before stance.
No breather.
Heavy drop cleaved. Legs gouged earth. Sneaky follow cracked chest fine.
Damn it.
Blood trickled clenched jaws.
Ambush toll.
'All out?'
No—outed.
Elf peak with spirits. Way too traceable.
Granada ID'd? Magic wasted, Berge's scheme trashed.
Best play: bolt.
Possible? Heavyweight ahead, mercs ringed.
Turning mid-tsunami? Ditch ship for drink—suicide.
'Fuck it. Slaughter.'
Eyes iced over.
Self-preservation tops. Might snag Demon King's ambitions, but corpse cares nil.
'No witnesses, sorted.'
Off 'em all—no survivors. Spirits wipe earth memory; trackers draw blank.
That instant.
Thwack—
“......?”
Merc cornering Granada blood-vomited airborne. Incoming black flames cleaved him from pack.
Flame-shrouded mercs wailed, thrashed.
“Knew you were late.”
Voice from above. Heads craned.
Slowly. Agonizingly slow. He descended.
“Slacking in a dump like this.”
“...This slacking? Blind to these cuts?”
“Spit'll fix 'em. Drama queen.”
“Didn't peg your spit for holy water.”
“Suicidal?”
“Y-Yeah. Zipping it.”
Hah.
Granada barked a hollow laugh.
Berge eyed the mercs.
“Who're you pests harassing my slave?”
“Subordinate, not slave? Nicer ring.”
“Slave contract's real.”
“Ain't!”
“Ah, shredded. Existed tho.”
“...Why're you here?”
“Not to save your ass. Didn't know you were this pathetic.”
“...Wasn't banking on it.”
“Just coincidence.”
“Coincidence?”
“Yup.”
“Buy that?”
“Your call.”