Chapter 22
Chapter 22
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: A's Lie
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“Go ahead, pick out anything you like.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Hee-hee, I told you to call me sister.”
A woman with red bobbed hair let out a soft laugh as she browsed masks alongside Ambasha.
Bennetsa’s Navy Admiral Akroyal.
Watching from a step behind, the other three were gripped by a sense of dismay.
—“What the hell is going on? We finally got the money, and now why is she here?”
—“I don’t know. It just happened. Lately, I’ve had nothing but bad luck. Even after becoming a pirate, this is what I get?”
Mazelan grumbled irritably, and Elkana responded with a frown of her own.
Frankling, who had overheard, asked cautiously.
—“Still… do we really need to worry this much? I get it for me, but you two were comrades before, right? If you explain the situation, maybe she’ll let it slide…”
—“No way.”
—“Not a chance.”
Even if they had once been comrades, that made them all the more aware of who Akroyal really was.
One of the few who had bested Mazelan in combat, a woman from the Britann Empire who had risen to Navy Admiral in Bennetsa.
Her battle prowess alone placed her at the pinnacle of 10th Grade Grand Master Warrior.
Even if Mazelan and Frankling attacked together, victory wasn’t guaranteed.
On top of that, this was her home turf in Bennetsa, where reinforcements would swarm at the slightest delay.
In this situation, fighting meant almost certain defeat.
And worse than her overwhelming power was one critical flaw.
Akroyal harbored an extraordinary hatred for pirates.
In the Britann Empire, which even operated privateers and took a relatively lenient stance on piracy,
she had abandoned her officer position to enlist in Bennetsa, rising from a lowly sailor to admiral.
She despised pirates to the extreme, viewing them as vermin that must be eradicated.
Even if they were once called comrades.
—“The moment we mention we’re pirates, she’ll draw her sword.”
—“And if she finds out we’re under Pirate King… Ugh, she’d lop our heads off on the spot.”
—“Hmm… We… should stay quiet for now…”
Stuck traveling with the last person they wanted to run into here, they could only wait patiently for this awkward time to end as quickly as possible.
‘Well… at least she still loves kids like before…’
‘She’s paying more attention to Ambasha than us right now. Though that’ll flip the second she learns who we are…’
To those in the know, it was a scene no different from a ticking time bomb.
Yet the parties involved, despite having just met, got along as if they were longtime friends.
“I like this one. The raven mask.”
“Hmm? Doesn’t suit you, does it? The decorations aren’t that pretty…”
“It looks like the one my dad wore. Since we’re doing this, I’ll pick the same.”
“Really? Your dad… Hee-hee. You must really love him.”
“Yes… I really, really do. I want to work hard this time too and get his praise.”
Ambasha blushed slightly and smiled.
Watching her, Akroyal gently stroked the little girl’s hair.
“You remind me of myself. I used to adore my father too…”
“Oh… really? What was Admiral Akroyal’s father like?”
“He was wonderful… Respected by so many… yet always kind to me.”
“My dad’s the same. Everyone says he’s amazing, but he’s always gentle with me. He strokes my hair like this a lot too.”
“I see… I’m jealous… truly…”
“…”
Akroyal’s voice carried genuine emotion, and a shadow crept over her face.
She tried not to show it, but it seemed she was recalling unhappy memories.
Ambasha fell silent for a moment, then stood on tiptoe and reached out.
And.
“!”
Ambasha patted Akroyal’s head.
It was a simple gesture, but it stirred surprise and a warm swell in Akroyal’s heart.
“Cheer up. My dad says parents always think of their kids, no matter where they are. I’m sure your dad, resting far away, is thinking of you too.”
“…”
Though spoken by a young girl, the words struck deeply at that moment.
Akroyal stared blankly for a bit, then smiled brightly.
“Haha… Looks like I owe you even more now. Hey, Elkana.”
“Uh… yeah? What?”
“Got time later? I’ve got some free, thought we could grab a bite since it’s been ages.”
“Ah… no… that’s…”
Grroowl…
“…”
The utterly tactless rumble at the worst possible moment.
They were starving, having planned to eat right after the bank.
“You’re eating anyway. Don’t refuse. My treat, special occasion.”
Akroyal turned to Ambasha as she spoke.
It was obvious Elkana was just an excuse; her real interest lay elsewhere.
“What do you think? Anything sound good?”
“Yes, grilled shellfish. Elkana said she wants grilled shellfish with juices running out and mushrooms.”
“…Grilled shellfish… with mushrooms…?”
An oddly intriguing combo, sourced from Elkana no less.
Akroyal glanced at her old friend, who was pointedly looking away with a subtle expression.
“Don’t say weird stuff in front of the kid.”
“Ah… no… it’s not… like that. Sh-shellfish with mushrooms… sounds good, right?”
“Oh, and I heard it’s delicious with cream cheese too.”
“…”
“…Sigh, you haven’t changed a bit. Same as ever. Mazelan, don’t you train your subordinates properly?”
“Sorry about this one… I couldn’t rein her in.”
Mazelan apologized with utter sincerity.
Elkana, embarrassed for entirely different reasons, had no choice but to shut up for a while.
Steaming hot grilled shellfish.
Akroyal shelled out the perfectly cooked meat and fed it to Ambasha.
“Good?”
“Yes, delicious.”
The warm, tender shellfish filled her mouth.
Ambasha savored it with a happy expression.
Some disliked shellfish for the fishy smell, but this place masked it well with tomato sauce and more.
And Ambasha ate anything without fuss anyway.
“By the way… I didn’t get to ask earlier, but what brings you here? Pirate hunting for real?”
“Hmm… sort of…”
“If it’s a good lead, I’ll help. Things have been too quiet offshore lately; I’m itching for action.”
She meant it kindly, but to the pirates, it was nerve-wracking.
Then…
“Not that. We’re here for the auction.”
Ambasha’s eyes sparkled as she spoke between bites.
Akroyal asked with curiosity.
“Auction? The grand one?”
“Yes. There’s something I really want to buy. But we can’t get in.”
“!”
A bold lie from the seemingly innocent, carefree girl.
Shocked inwardly, Mazelan quickly chimed in to back her up.
“Y-yeah, that’s why we withdrew the money, but we can’t get invitations.”
“Haha, those aren’t easy to come by. Heard big shots are attending this year.”
“So… any way around it? You owe me from before. Not full access, just slip in, buy one thing, and out?”
“Hmm… well… I can’t just let in someone without an invite, even for you… But maybe a workaround…”
Akroyal pondered Mazelan’s plea.
Elkana inwardly cheered; Ambasha had steered things masterfully.
‘Whoa… what? Thought she was clueless, but she’s better than me? Two birds with one stone?’
“…Hmm…”
Auriel lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
Normally, she’d review scores or tune her voice for tomorrow’s performance, but her mind was elsewhere.
Only one thing occupied her thoughts.
The man who had given her the room next door.
First, she saw him as her benefactor who saved her.
Then, as a heathen she must save.
But now, she doubted if someone like her could ever “save” him.
Despite being a godless heathen, his every word and action stirred her heart.
His patience, enough to make her feel guilty.
His unwavering answers to her questions.
Even if he didn’t serve the Lord,
as a man, he was noble enough to earn her respect… or affection,
and the confusion it sparked.
‘Why… why do I feel this way about a heathen whose face I haven’t even seen?!’
Suddenly realizing she didn’t even know his name, Auriel bolted upright and headed for the door.
‘Th-this means nothing special. I… I can’t keep not knowing my benefactor’s name…’
Finding a convenient excuse, she rationalized her impulse to see him,
all while feeling ongoing turmoil about her own motivations,
and opened the door.
But…
“…Huh?”
“…”
Right in front of her…
The man, about to knock, still in his plague doctor mask indoors.
Auriel felt bewilderment and a strange thrill, asking carefully.
“Wh-what is it?”
“…I need to talk. Can I come in?”
Asking to enter a woman’s room alone.
Instead of refusal, she felt inexplicable anticipation.
“P-please, come in.”