Chapter 10
Chapter 10
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: Refusal-1
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"Speak. Why have you been pretending to be the Hero this whole time?"
The Mage aimed a large, heavy wooden staff that reached up to her chest at the Princess, subjecting her to an interrogation.
This was a reckless act she would never have attempted under normal circumstances. Pointing a weapon at royalty was a crime of treason punishable by immediate execution without trial, and a mage's staff was typically treated as a weapon.
In any ordinary situation, she could have easily brushed aside some half-baked guard with magic and achieved her goal. But the Princess before her was the Hero.
She still possessed the full power she had wielded when slaying the Demon King—a swordmaster who could behead most foes before they even noticed her.
Yet Pashier couldn't help but be furious.
"I don't know where you heard that... but it's true. I received the Hero's power from that porter and was the one who killed the Demon King."
"Why? Why on earth would you do something so foolish? You should have at least told me!"
"There was no benefit in letting a lot of people know the secret."
Seeing the Princess's brazen attitude, Pashier had no choice but to grimace.
This woman truly knew nothing.
"In any case, the Hero is done now. There's no more need for the Goddess's blessing or to defeat the Demon King. The Hero's power is with me, and it was I, you, and the other companions who brought down the Demon King."
"Where is the Emperor? I need to have a word with that man!"
"Mind your words. His Imperial Majesty is a busy man. Even as the Tower Master, you can't just meet him without a formal appointment..."
"I'm the one who cast the protection spell on him when he was babbling nonsense as a baby! Enough with the nonsense—guide me to him at once!"
As the Tower Master and one of the kingdom's mages, Pashier had always held a highly favorable view of the Emperor.
He was someone who avoided wasting power on pointless conflicts and focused on developing the Empire.
The wealth he amassed was more than enough to share among the Magic Tower, the cathedral, the common folk, and the knights. With full granaries, fights decreased, and mages weren't dragged into trivial matters.
But now, Pashier was agonizing over whether to squander all that goodwill in one go.
"Fine, at least arrange a meeting for me! Even putting aside the Emperor, it's already been days since I requested to see the Hero!"
"That's up to the porter himself. He said he doesn't want to meet anyone."
"What?"
"I don't want to think too deeply about it. He's probably just spending pleasant time with the maid I let inside."
Elenor frowned slightly. It was hard to accept that the man who was to become her husband had loose morals with women.
But even considering that, it wasn't so bad. She had no intention of monopolizing his lust to begin with.
She planned to share his bed only until she bore a child, then live separately afterward. Whether he toyed with maids or not was no big deal.
If he ever grew too fond and tried to take one as a real concubine or threatened her position as the proper wife, she'd cut it off without mercy—but for now, she could tolerate it.
"Then at least smuggle me in as that maid! I have to meet him somehow!"
"It would be better if you focused on less pointless matters, like telling me about the list of supplies for the Magic Tower."
"That's not what's important!"
Elenor let out a deep sigh.
"If you want to see him that badly, try waiting in the imperial library. He rarely comes out these days... but that's the only time he goes outside."
Elenor thought her words were a polite refusal.
She herself wasn't pleased that a mere porter was refusing Pashier's summons, but the Emperor backed him.
Unless he committed a grave crime like murder or rape, imposing any penalty for refusing a meeting would enrage the Emperor.
And Pashier was not the type to wait patiently.
She hated even a second of wasted time, using every spare moment to meditate or carve new spell runes into mud with twigs.
Such a person would never follow advice to wait for an uncertain porter.
"Good... I'll head there for now. Don't forget I made contact!"
But without a hint of displeasure, Pashier sprang up with her small frame and dashed off.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Slim limbs and stunning beauty, a face that seemed to glow.
She should have been the proudest and most arrogant of elves, yet now she was reduced to desperately suppressing the rising heat.
"What have you done to me..."
There was no reason for her body to react like this. It was just a scent— not even a real one, but something imprinted on her soul.
The face and scent that filled her mind belonged only to that porter.
It was reasonable to assume some vile sorcery or curse. But even so, many questions remained unresolved.
If it was magic, Pashier would have detected it. At the very least, regarding magic, no other Hero party member could harm her without the Mage's tacit approval.
A curse was the same. She was the real Saintess; she wouldn't just use curses herself, but if the porter even had the ability to do so, she'd incinerate him with a single holy spell.
"What should I do..."
If killing him would end this torment, she would have found a way to slay the porter somehow.
But what if, after his death, she could never smell that scent again?
Nerwen felt fear. It was as if some massive, reasonless force was crushing her.
No cause, no omen. Just a strange, repulsive scent from one porter.
Still, she couldn't stay like this.
She had to meet him first. Smell him, regain her senses, and assess the situation.
If the problem was with him, she had to kill him. If not, she needed to find the key to resolving it. If neither worked, at least she had to smell his scent.
She kicked off the ground and ran. Though she'd been staggering moments before, now she no longer needed to forcibly suppress her body with reason.
From the moment she resolved to seek his scent, Nerwen dashed forward with the light steps of an elf.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Baron, you should get some fresh air outside once in a while!"
The title of Baron still never felt familiar, no matter how many times he heard it.
Until recently, he'd been treated as less than human—a mere pack mule.
"The flowers are blooming so beautifully! You should take this chance to go out!"
"If I move, it'll inconvenience a lot of people."
For some reason, the Emperor had mentioned there were people who disliked him.
Even without that, he lacked strength.
As a survivor who'd tagged along with the Hero party, he had confidence in evasion and stamina. But facing armed foes with murderous intent? That was uncertain.
The capital's security was stable, but his expensive clothes might turn greedy eyes.
If criminals could ransom him for gold and flee, they'd live in luxury without further crime.
Naturally, for him to venture outside the palace, at least four more people would suffer. He wasn't that curious about the outside anyway.
Sitting blankly here, enjoying the fact that he didn't have to do anything, and closing his eyes to imagine Earth—that was enough.
"I can't trouble others because of me..."
"I figured you'd say that, so I got all the guards to sign off today!"
"..."
He couldn't tell if they'd thumbprinted, signed, or stamped it. But the paper the maid handed him looked convincingly official.
"Aren't you bored in here?"
"Of course not... Hehe, I just want you to see all the wonderful places around. The capital is amazing!"
The maid shook her pure white silver hair this way and that, preaching the kingdom's wonders to him.
"And no matter what's going on, you're always lying here all day or sitting in the library. It's not good for your health! Forget any sad things!"
He nodded.
He didn't want to go out. Experiencing and seeing more of this world wouldn't bring happiness.
But staying put, shuttling only between the library and bedroom, didn't mean he wasn't seeing the world.
The Saintess occasionally appeared in the library, and though he'd never seen her face, the Hero seemed to pass nearby sometimes.
If he focused on avoiding unpleasant people, heading to the city might be safer than staying in the palace.
"Alright. I'll get ready."
"Really? Wait just a moment—I'll fetch new clothes!"
He wanted to say these clothes were fine, but the maid had already flung open the wardrobe, selecting outfits that might fit him.
Through negotiation, compromise, and firm declarations (he wouldn't go out in that), he donned the most subdued one, took a deep breath, and stepped outside the palace again.
The guards stood rigidly at attention, but their eyes sparkled with excitement they couldn't hide.
"So, where do you want to go?"
"I, uh, haven't been to the capital in ages myself..."
Forests, the smell of forges, chunks of tough travel bread—everything was a bundle of trauma. Maybe just this much and head back.
The moment that thought crossed his mind, a familiar voice came from behind.
"Wait... stop."
His nerves tensed at the voice. His brain screamed with stress in an instant. The smile vanished from his lips, and the spark left his eyes.
Behind him stood the Archer.