Chapter 12
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: An Unheroic Hero
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Prim White Rose.
A spirited girl who personally joins trade caravans to run her merchant group.
She had the kind of drive I could never even dream of.
"We've still got some time before departure, right?"
"Yes."
Ashy confirmed the departure time with Prim and stepped back.
"Let's go buy what we need."
Mercenaries and adventurers wandering the continent rarely pass up a chance to join a trade caravan.
Unless they're on a personal commission or adventure, it's cheaper and safer that way.
When hitching a ride with a merchant group, you have to bring your own essentials.
Sleeping bags or tents for bedding down, rations to stave off hunger, and all sorts of other things.
We headed out briefly to purchase them.
The streets were lined with shops selling just that sort of gear.
Ashy barged straight into one.
"……."
The shop was filled with all sorts of leather goods.
Among them, she grabbed a backpack that faintly glowed with blue energy.
"…Three million sol."
It must have had a lightweight enchantment on it.
Otherwise, no way a single backpack would cost three million won in Korean currency.
"Put it on the Hero Ashy's tab."
"……."
Ashy declared it boldly.
No money now, but she'd pay later.
From the shopkeeper's perspective, it was an absurd situation, but there wasn't much he could do.
He'd just have to trust Hero Ashy's conscience.
"…Understood."
The shopkeeper reluctantly handed over the backpack.
Whether Ashy would skip out on the three million sol or pay up later was up to her.
'Or the church might cover it.'
Supporting the hero was the church's role, after all.
Next, we headed to a general store.
I took the backpack and slung it over my shoulder, following behind Ashy.
Now that we had the backpack, it was time to fill it.
From Roberio to Lizn in the Gertong Barony.
Generously estimating, it was a three-day trip, so we should stock enough food for at least four days.
Not that it amounted to much.
Pemmican, roughly speaking, was stick-shaped emergency rations made from hardened meat and fat.
It was something Luke's party relied on heavily in the early, penniless days.
'Good thing it's a novel.'
The more you thought about historical accuracy, the harsher the world seemed, but calling it a novel let a lot slide.
Like pemmican being sold everywhere in these general stores.
Or the bizarre setting where it came in all sorts of flavors.
We strode into the general store.
"Welcome, adventurer… Eh, Hero?!"
The shopkeeper spotted Ashy's uniform and stammered in surprise.
Ashy scanned the store and pointed out a few items, ordering them brought out.
Pemmican was the lowest of foods.
The kind of emergency rations you ate when proper meals were impossible.
That didn't mean you had to stick to it religiously.
If you had money and time to spare, you could put up with the hassle for better meals.
That's what Ashy was trying to do now.
"Portable stove kit, flint, spices… You're not planning to cook on the trade run, are you…?"
"I can at least boil some soup sticks."
Ashy was utterly unapologetic.
"I ate like that all the time back in the day."
"……."
It wasn't impossible.
Just a hassle.
"Wouldn't it be better to learn basic spells like 'Water' or 'Clean' first?"
"…There'll be at least one mercenary who knows them."
There were a few basic spells essential for adventurers and mercenaries.
'Water' to summon liquid, 'Clean' to brush off dirt, 'Fire' to light a blaze, and so on.
They were so rudimentary no one would call you a mage for knowing them, but for those living outdoors, they were practical conveniences worth having.
Ashy figured one of the mercenaries would know them and gathered what she needed.
The shopkeeper could only watch helplessly as his shelves were raided.
He couldn't refuse the hero's demands.
We filled the backpack just right.
Thanks to the lightweight enchantment, it was far easier to carry than the weight suggested.
"Farewell, come again."
The shopkeeper sent us off with tears in his eyes.
His hands and feet trembled before the absolute power dynamic.
"Didn't you say something about managing your reputation?"
I followed Ashy closely and asked.
She'd talked about building her image to snag a noble title after sealing the Demon King.
"Reputation? Why should I care what people think?"
"…Then?"
"I just need to hunt demons. I meant stacking up achievements, not reputation."
"Ah…."
There was no need to play nice with the common folk.
The ones Ashy needed to impress were the Empire, the world itself.
To wring out massive rewards, she'd slay every demon breathing in this world—
'Classic Ashy.'
I'd thought she'd turned over a new leaf and gone soft…
I'd misunderstood her words.
Ashy was still as unhinged as ever.
Our shopping spree on zero budget complete, we arrived at the merchant guild.
The White Rose Merchant Group was prepping for departure.
Checking personnel and cargo, reviewing the plan.
Everything proceeded smoothly under Prim's direct command.
There were ten wagons in total.
It was an insane amount, no matter how you sliced it.
'Two are for mercenaries and adventurers, at least.'
Real cargo wagons numbered six.
Two held White Rose employees, and two more were packed with assorted mercenaries and adventurers.
"Mercenaries, adventurers, and Hero! Everyone, board the wagons! We're departing soon!"
Prim bellowed to herd everyone aboard.
No helping it.
The merchant guild's rear depot was noisier than expected.
You had to shout to be heard.
'How much profit does a single trade run like this net?'
Musing on that, I climbed into a wagon.
I stuck right by Ashy's side and took a seat.
The wagons had a simple structure.
The driver's seat connected straight to the cargo hold.
A thin wall divided the space, with a small window up top for talking to the driver.
Seats faced each other.
Enough for twelve people, all walled in except the ceiling.
The walls were for defense against potential ambushes.
The roof was leather-covered to block rain and wind, providing minimal protection.
Glow lamps hung inside, creating a cozy atmosphere.
"Hoo."
I set the backpack between my feet, signaling I was ready for departure.
The commotion outside built a subtle tension.
"Hero, please take care of us."
"Yeah."
A mercenary across from us greeted her with a lip-smacking smirk.
Ashy responded indifferently.
"……."
The mercenary's face stiffened awkwardly.
Offense radiated from him.
—Depart! Depart!
The horses whinnied at Prim's shout.
Clop, clop.
I felt the wagons line up in order and exit the merchant guild depot.
"……."
Leaving Roberio for Lizn.
My first trade caravan as the hero's companion(?).
The mood felt a bit off.
It really hit me: I was in a fantasy world.
The reality sank in.
The wagon was quiet.
Only the rumble of travel, as mercenaries and adventurers kept silent.
'Two groups?'
You could tell by their outfits alone.
My rough guess, but it was obvious enough.
The ones across were mercenaries.
All looked rough and prickly, thorns out to ward off trouble.
By contrast, the adventurers beside us seemed softer, more approachable.
As I gauged the vibe and analyzed the groups,
Ashy glared across at them.
"…Keep leaking killing intent and I'll kill you."
Ashy growled at the mercenaries.
Whether actual killing intent or some intangible aura, it pricked at the skin.
'She's holding back?'
It was much fainter than what I'd felt at the guild.
Still plenty intimidating.
"…Understood."
The mercenaries averted their eyes.
They'd tried to assert dominance and got shut down instead.
'1st Stage Holy Sword, so even Ashy deals with this stuff.'
The protagonist Luke was constantly getting into scraps like this.
Challenges, fights.
Not everyone views heroes favorably.
Human greed and envy lurk closer than you think.
These incidents could escalate or lead to new companions…
But Ashy unfolded it entirely differently.
Distinct from Luke.
Suited her personality, though.
The wagon rolled on.
10 minutes, 20, an hour.
Snore, snore.
Drool, drool.
The boring journey dragged on, breaths evening out.
Adventurers' heads lolled irregularly, mercenaries' eyes glazed over.
Everyone in the wagon was starting to doze.
Me too—sleep came rushing in.
Once I adjusted to the motion, my eyelids grew heavy.
Rustle.
Just as I was about to nod off, an unfamiliar touch came from the side.
"…Ashy?"
"Shh."
Ashy twisted in the tight space, lifting my shirt.
She slipped her hand under slyly, groping me.
"Quietly…."
"…W-What are you doing…?"
"Can't sleep, bored. Playing with Puppy to pass the time."
Ashy's hand wedged in.
From my stomach, it dove south in an instant.
I grabbed at Ashy in a panic.
"Puppy, hands off."
"…There are other people here."
"It's fine. No one can say shit."
Ashy gently peeled my hand away.
The strength behind it was immense—I couldn't resist.
"Stay still. Then no one'll notice."
Ashy extended her arm.
She wedged her hand into my waistband and giggled.
From abs to lower belly, lower belly to groin.
"So tickly."
"…Seriously…."
Ashy's touch undid the chastity.
She fondled the cold metal cage.
"Haa… Traveling together is the best. Alone, it's too bitter."
Ashy's lips curled wickedly.
I turned to look at her.
I'd meant to beg her to stop, but the words wouldn't come.
Ashy grinned like she was having the time of her life.
She had zero intention of stopping.
"Ugh…."
Our eyes met.
In that instant, Ashy clamped down on my balls.
Not even squeezing hard, but as a man's weak spot?
Strength drained from me.
My legs went weak.
If not for the wagon seat, I might've collapsed.
"Heehee, nice."
Ashy started kneading my balls to her heart's content.