Coffee Rosens No. 1 (13)
The Caliph was so worked up that the surrounding ministers and priests jumped to their feet in surprise, scrambling in confusion.
"What did that man just say? Why is he so angry?"
"Who knows."
When the interpreter asked the Caliph what was wrong, he gestured wildly with his hands and feet, unleashing a torrent of words. The more the Caliph spoke, the stranger the interpreter's face grew.
"Um... Kronika... The Caliph says..."
The interpreter turned to me with a look of utter bew disbelief, as if questioning whether he'd heard right.
"That you are the dragon slayer who deceived and slew Al-Zasha's archdemon...?"
I now understood why the Caliph was losing it. Right after I'd killed the great demon Margas of Al-Zasha, the Caliphs had gathered to view his corpse. They must have caught a glimpse of me then.
"Mr. Bertrand? What does that mean? You killed Al-Zasha's great demon?"
After a moment's hesitation at Celereja's question, I decided to just tell her. She was fully one of my people now, after all.
"I took down the great demon responsible for the Al-Zasha massacre—the one I mentioned before—alongside Blaze, who's now the church's chief saintess."
"Haha, what on earth are you talking about? Making jokes like that."
"It's no joke. At the time, I partied up with Blaze, who was the acting chief saintess; Brione, now the royal palace mage; and Idwild, the black mage at my inn."
"For real...?"
"Yeah. But that's a story for later. The Caliph comes first."
As soon as I confirmed I was that hero from back then, the Caliph suddenly rushed toward me. Then he dropped to his knees, prostrated himself, and kissed the top of my foot...?!
"Eek...!"
Celereja yelped in shock, hastily tucking her own feet under her saintess robes.
"The esteemed dragon slayer has graced Al-Behbad with his presence, having slain the wicked evil by imperial decree. We offer our eternal glory."
As the interpreter translated, the other priests and ministers all knelt and flattened themselves to the floor. I knew exactly what that gesture meant—it was how the desert folk prayed to the idols of their gods.
Aigoo... This wasn't the direction I'd intended. What I wanted was to frame the whole thing as Celereja's doing and get Al-Behbad to send an official diplomatic missive to the Verabche Kingdom.
"Please tell them this was all the saintess here's work, not mine."
Celereja started to speak up, but I raised a hand to stop her.
"Stay quiet."
The interpreter relayed that, and the Caliph awkwardly shuffled on his knees toward Celereja.
"Stick out your foot. That's the custom."
Celereja hesitated before slightly lifting her saintess robes and extending her foot. The Caliph kissed the top of it and poured out a stream of praises.
This roughly accomplished everything I'd aimed for. We'd secured the coffee, plus a farm to boot. I'd credited killing Bepahr to Celereja. And if my guess was right, the landowners and Caliph would offer substantial treasures as thanks.
Sure enough, palace servants staggered in lugging sacks big enough for a man to curl up inside.
The Caliph gestured impatiently for me to open it, so I untied the mouth.
"Kyaaah!!"
Celereja screamed, clamping a hand over her mouth. The massive sack was filled to the brim with gold coins.
How many inns could this buy? The Al-Zasha reward had gone straight to the palace without passing through my hands, which stung. But at this rate, a few more great demon visitations and I'd be filthy rich in no time.
The Caliph provided a carriage, so we returned comfortably to the landowner's estate. Upon seeing the Caliph's gold sack, the landowner stuffed an even larger one with coins and jewels.
Celereja pressed a hand to her forehead at the sight of the two enormous sacks.
"Ah, seeing all this money so suddenly is making my head spin..."
"That's the tradition here. Hospitality has to outdo everyone else's."
"With this much, I could just quit the church and live with you, Mr. Bertrand."
"Hm... Saintess. Of course you'll get your share, but... you didn't think we'd split it fifty-fifty, did you?"
She flushed and laughed awkwardly.
"N-no, of course not. You did all the work, Mr. Bertrand. Taking half would be shameless."
We rode the carriage to the dimension gate on the city's outskirts. Mideronde was there fanning herself, waiting in the heat.
"Mideronde? It's hot—why'd you come out?"
"All done?"
"Yep. Check this out."
I showed her the gold sacks, but she barely glanced at them.
"Then let's head back."
We gathered all the sacks and passed through the dimension gate.
"Saintess, wait here a moment. I've got somewhere to go with you."
As soon as we entered the inn courtyard, I left Celereja behind and stepped through the gate to the coffee farm. Nearby, several wagons stood in a row, golems diligently loading them with harvested coffee beans.
"Rowell."
Rowell, wide-brimmed hat shading his face as he supervised the golems by a wagon, turned to me.
"Welcome back, sir. All went well?"
"Yeah. How's it here?"
"The golems are splendid workers. See for yourself."
He pointed to a wagon brimming with beans.
"Not enough for big market profits, but plenty for the cafe."
"Perfect. Keep it up—I've got things to handle."
"Leave it to me."
I clapped his shoulder and returned to the inn.
"Hey! Idi! Get out here!"
The inn door flew open as Idi came running out, breathless.
"You called...?"
"Summon a hell horse. Gotta head to the capital."
Idi summoned one. I saddled it up and lashed the gold sacks securely to either side with ropes. A normal horse would've buckled, but the hell horse stood unmoved.
"Saintess, hop on. We need to deposit at the bank, then hit church HQ."
"Ch... Church headquarters...?!"
She paled, stammering.
"Gotta bring this."
I held up the sack with Bepahr's head.
"Demon stuff—better report to the cardinal."
"R-right..."
"Let's go."
I got Celereja on the hell horse and galloped straight into the city.
After depositing all the gold and jewels at the bank, we headed straight for the capital. It was far, but the hell horse would get us there in hours.
"We'll arrive before dinner."
She gasped, pressing her back tight against my chest.
"Nervous?"
"Of course... Meeting the cardinal..."
"Don't worry. They're not gonna eat you."
"But, Mr. Bertrand."
Celereja spoke cautiously.
"The Caliph's reaction earlier, and when the queen visited the city before, it seemed like you knew the cardinal too."
"Acquaintances."
"Plus killing great demons barehanded... Yesterday I said it didn't matter who you were, but..."
She asked outright.
"Who are you, really, Mr. Bertrand?"
Where to even start? After a pause, I began.
"For starters, that sword hanging on the inn wall as decor... It's a gift from the Goddess."
I yanked Celereja's waist as she nearly tumbled off the hell horse.
"The... Goddess gifted it to you...?!"
"Ten years ago, I was just a nobody from some backwater village in the kingdom's east."
I slowly recounted to Celereja how I'd become the hero.
"I was planning to leave home and become a mercenary."
"A mercenary? You?"
"Family trait—stronger than most, handy with this and that."
Balder the Avenger's bloodline. Strength to crush monsters barehanded, a body tougher than steel, beastly instincts, near-blink reflexes, a piercing gaze that terrified even great demons, night vision like daylight. Yet Father, with all that power, never schemed big—just farmed humbly. When I first learned of our Avenger descent and asked him, he said:
If you lack the resolve to bear the consequences of your strength, better not to use it at all.
Father was so mild and unassuming, while Mother was his total opposite. She respected his wish for a quiet life but with me... Ah, we're here already.
Before long, the grand vista of Verabche's capital unfolded in the distance.