Chapter 50
Chapter 50
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 50
Chapter Title: Scar-3
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"One room! Or two? What do you think, Baron?"
"Do whatever."
"One room, please! Including dinner and bathwater!"
Ceres handed over a few coins and skipped back lightly.
"Hey, the place looks nice!"
"It does."
The wooden table was worn, and the door was shabby, but all in all, it was pretty clean.
Inns for adventurers could end up in unspeakably filthy shape depending on how the owner managed them.
"Go up the stairs and the first room on the left."
The old man who seemed to be the innkeeper pointed to the rickety staircase in the corner.
"Are you the Baron? This isn't a proper place to host nobility..."
"It's fine."
Being able to sleep without worrying about ambushes was more than enough.
Sure, I could lounge in imperial luxury for days if I wanted comfort, but in the end, I just wanted to get back home.
"No drinks?"
A waitress with a light smile subtly pitched the booze. I sat in my chair, pondering for a moment.
I didn't like alcohol.
But during adventures, I'd never once had the chance to drink at an inn. Money wasn't an issue, but letting my guard down even a little could mean not surviving the next day.
If everyone else was sober, I had no room to indulge. Most inns barely had booze to sell anyway.
"...Just a little."
I didn't expect much in the way of taste. Better to have a maid fetch well-kept liquor from the palace than drink in a dump like this.
I just wanted to try it. Ordering drinks at an inn—something I'd never been able to do before.
"Got it. Dad, one big mug of beer here!"
The waitress beamed like she'd scored a win and hurried to the old man. Her run was a bit awkward—probably her leg bothering her.
"That girl of mine... gutsy, talented, or just clueless? Schmoozing nobility directly."
A moment later, she returned with beer and two bowls of stew topped with black bread, setting them on the table.
"Thank you."
I tipped her a few coins, then took a spoonful of stew from the small bowl.
As always, it was bland, but at least there seemed to be a decent amount of meat. The grease teased my tongue.
"How is it?"
Hoping for extra tip if it pleased me, the waitress lingered, gauging my reaction.
"Ah, it's good... but not as good as what this one made."
Of course, the bar was set ridiculously high. Imperial cuisine had spoiled my palate, and Ceres's cooking was downright unnatural.
If she wasn't using magic, she'd have spices hidden somewhere in that maid outfit.
"Eek, she was a real maid? Does all the housework alone? Later pulls out a dagger or something and slices through monsters like butter?"
Ceres scratched her head, denying the waitress's words.
"Nothing like that. Just whatever I can manage."
The flustered waitress averted her eyes to the large wooden keg full of ale.
"W-well then... try the beer! My dad brews it himself!"
I took a swig. Just kinda sweet booze. Nothing special—just the sort of drink you could get in this world.
But I kept drinking it. Pouring it down my throat so I'd never regret missing out again.
"Haa..."
I exhaled a slightly heated breath. The waitress still watched me with expectant eyes.
"Not bad..."
Not good, but passable. Not glaringly dirty or half-assed, and the taste wasn't awful.
Finding an inn that met basic standards was tough. I pulled out one more coin and handed it to her.
"Thank you!"
The waitress bowed politely, clutching the coin as she went to the innkeeper.
"Dad, look, I got a tip!"
"Sheesh, you were always good at making money... That one coin worth so much?"
"Money I earn working the inn myself isn't much. This is a fortune!"
I dunked the tough, coarse bread into the stew bowl and stirred it around.
Ceres in her maid outfit drew some eyes, but not enough to bother me.
Few here truly bought me as a baron, but they figured anyone strong enough to stroll around in a maid-outfitted companion had to be somebody.
Just the right mix of respect and indifference.
"Think that'll cut it with pocket change? Real noble service means heating up the night, right?"
"Handsome noble too—bet you could seduce him with your body."
A few rough adventurers tossed lewd jokes at the waitress. One hand crept toward dangerous territory.
I paused, wondering how to handle it.
On adventures, no need to think. Charge in and start a brawl, obviously.
No—overhearing that chatter first was lucky in itself. If Elenor heard, the inn would be scrubbing corpses.
Starting a moderate fight was the way to save lives, at least.
Rarely, a blood-averse mage might intervene, but usually, blood had to spill for things to end.
But did I need to step in now? Meddling kindly might just get me cursed for chasing off regulars.
But my hesitation was pointless, as always.
"I have a lover!"
The waitress had grabbed a wooden stick from somewhere and was whacking the men soundly.
"Adventurer, huh."
The maid watched the scene with thrilled fascination.
"Yeah, adventurer."
She was skilled enough to walk fine on her prosthetic leg. But even so, she couldn't adventure in that state.
Common story. Lucky she survived at all. Still, a shame.
"Whoa, old temper flaring up! Innkeep! Your waitress is beating people!"
"Don't break the tables. Bones can snap, no big deal."
The innkeeper stirred the stew pot with a long ladle without even turning around.
"Ow! Hey, that hurts! Real hurt! You hit bone!"
"Rest easy at the inn, it'll heal! About a week! Prepay for meal delivery too!"
They weren't real enemies—the lecherous adventurers didn't resist in earnest.
"..."
"You okay?"
"Nah, just..."
Not every snap judgment could be stopped.
Some women praised the Hero for saving them, but others didn't.
Sometimes, waitresses trembled in terror at sudden killings and rolling heads.
Rarely, someone screamed about why kill people. The Hero replied that attempted rape was a grave crime—they had reason to die.
Maybe among the dead was someone like this inn's folk, killed over a mere joke.
Pointless to dwell. The living could apologize or compensate, but the dead? Nothing.
Even if injustices slipped through, they'd fade. Countless lives the Hero saved would justify her actions.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Why... why?"
The old adventurer trembled in fear, bound with rope.
"Why? You touched someone you shouldn't have. Hoped you'd survive?"
"Pl... please..."
Severed finger segments littered the floor.
"Kill... me..."
"Yeah, yeah. I will. Don't whine."
Incongruous with such brutality, the noble lady gripped a knife herself, slicing flesh from the adventurer.
"Aaaaaaaaaah!!!"
"Shut up. Ugh, not even pretty or young. Why are old folks' screams so vulgar and loud?"
Skin already flayed. Red muscle peeled off in thin sheets with the blood.
"Why... exactly?"
"Hero might get upset over you. Wouldn't care about scum like you, but if you sought petty revenge, it'd sour her mood?"
"Urgh..."
The old man had plotted revenge—stirring other adventurers against the Hero, spreading ill will.
Many distrusted the new "real Hero" and stuck with the old party. Success might've hurt.
But petty vengeance hardly warranted a noble lady torturing personally.
"Even if she doesn't notice now, helping the Hero bit by bit with trifles like this... someday, she'll open her heart to me and my house."
"Ugh... ugh... ugh..."
"Sorry. I talk too much to the dying. Hobby of mine—telling them my true feelings. Father calls it a bad habit... but can't help it."
Christina smiled, bloodied hands and all, spilling her heart over his screams as backing track.
"Living as a noble lady's no picnic. Never show true feelings, never relax... But before the dying? Doesn't matter."
"Aaaah!"
Finally, she plunged the dagger into his heart. Christina exited the torture chamber and washed her hands in the basin her servant had prepared.
Fresh red blood spread through the clean water.