Chapter 13
As soon as Hera stepped out of the restaurant, she abruptly suggested heading straight to the lodging. Franz, caught off guard, blinked vacantly before finally opening his mouth.
"Why the lodging?"
"Because there are too many listening ears around here, aren't there? Like you said, I was being too hasty, so I figured we'd take it slow and make a proper plan. Or do you have some other idea?"
After the meal, just as Franz had planned, she had regained some composure, unlike before.
But don't people usually explain the reason first?
Franz felt a bit wronged by his initial fluster, but he decided to let it slide—good was good, after all. It was a hundred times better than a villainess bent on world destruction.
"Nah, nothing specific."
"Then let's hurry. My impatience is gone, but time is still tight."
With that, the two ended their conversation and began walking the streets of Cal Desien. The streets were packed with people: shop owners hawking their wares, customers browsing goods, and street vendors adding to the throng—it was a total sea of humanity. And whenever Franz peered into the shadowy alleys where light barely reached, there were always two or three rough-looking types lurking. No doubt, they were the sort involved in backroom deals.
"Here it is."
Hera pushed open the wooden door of a rundown building and stepped inside. Franz followed close behind.
Pretty ordinary.
The inn where Hera was staying was nothing special—just your standard setup, with a restaurant on the first floor and rooms starting from the second. Hera strode up the stairs, down the hallway, and inserted a key into the door at the very end. As it creaked open, a spine-chilling screeech echoed through the corridor.
"Franz, sorry about this, but there's nowhere to sit. If you don't mind, just perch on the edge of the bed."
Once inside, Hera said this as she pulled back the hood she had been wearing. Her long, pointed elf ears came into view.
Franz gazed at her, thinking to himself.
It's fascinating every time I see them.
He'd heard that creatures usually evolved in ways advantageous for survival, but he couldn't fathom how elf ears helped with that. They didn't enhance hearing that much, nor did they shoot telepathy beams or anything. He wanted to ask, but it felt rude, so the question from their first meeting lingered unresolved.
Anyway.
"So, what's the plan? Got anything laid out?"
"I had a plan... but it hit a snag. I'll explain that later. For now, the target is Cal Desien's lord, Gidric."
Cal Desien's lord, Gidric. Sure enough, where there's smoke, there's fire—exactly as Franz had suspected.
But.
A snag in the plan?
Franz had a hard time buying it. This was Hera, after all. With the prowess she'd shown in the hero party, she could punch through most mansion guards like paper.
So he asked, "What caused the snag?"
"Word's going around among the nobles that someone's been freeing elf slaves. Gidric heard it and hired a pretty famous mage. His moniker is the Trap Mage."
"Trap Mage...? You sure?"
"Positive."
That was weird. No such guy existed in Franz's memory. Even if he wasn't from the Magic Tower, a mage famous enough for that nickname would've been known to fellow mages.
Then it hit him like a bolt—a forgotten memory surfaced.
Could it be that guy...?
Back when Franz was still a Magic Tower apprentice, there was this creepy dude researching trap magic. As a senior, he'd bully Franz with ridiculous excuses: fetching tea, cleaning the lab, even luring him into his own traps.
But he vanished.
By the time Franz became tower master and looked for him, the guy was long gone. And his nickname back then wasn't anything grand like Trap Mage...
It was 'Rat Trap'.
The old fogeys in the tower despised him for dabbling in sneaky traps instead of honorable ancient magic. Even Franz, who hated those geezers, had agreed that time. Rat Trap—what a perfect nickname.
"Franz, why are you smiling...?"
"Oh, just an old memory. Don't worry about that Trap Mage. I'll handle him."
Franz was thrilled—it had been ages. Trap Mage? A rat trap calling itself a mage? You're dead today.
"I see. As expected of the continent's top mage. Calling you was the right call."
"So, snag resolved? Now spill the plan."
"Simple. Rescue the elves locked underground and kill Gidric. Done."
Franz let out a disbelieving chuckle. The "plan" was absurdly simplistic.
How to make fried eggs: Fry the egg.
Not much different.
But it's not wrong, either.
With two from the hero party together, mansion guards were irrelevant. Fried egg becomes fried eggs, right? And Hera was just spooked by her own assumptions—she could've handled it solo. A rat trap can't catch people.
"So, that's the full strategy?"
"Yep. But Franz, there's something I need to say."
Something to say...? Right, back at the restaurant, she'd started but got cut off by the food. Something about being worried...
Gulp.
A vague dread made Franz swallow hard. He ventured cautiously, "What is it?"
Elf Archer Hera's emotions are rampaging!
If left unattended, it may negatively impact the ending!
Why did his bad feelings never miss? A sigh escaped Franz's lips.
The silver lining was that, unlike the saintess, she was still wrestling with it. Guide her right now, and she might not turn villainess.
Franz thought it over and asked carefully, "What do you want to do? Go back to the Great Forest?"
"I... don't know. I can't tell if the remaining elves are in cahoots with those two, or if it's all a misunderstanding..."
"Well, take your time thinking. If you really have nowhere to go, come to the Magic Tower. It's not as grand as rescuing elf slaves, but I can make room for you."
"I couldn't burden you that much..."
"Cut it out. Burden? It's just a job. Don't overthink it."
The issue was when her elf rescues would end. Would it ever? If scum kept slyly trafficking elves, she'd be at it forever.
Need to take out the root cause.
Too tricky for now—better mull it over slowly.
Fortunately, the plan seemed to work; the alert vanished from his view. Franz breathed a sigh of relief.
That's when it happened.
"Speaking of burdens... sorry I didn't mention this earlier."
"Sorry? For what?"
"I don't have the money to pay your designated dispatch fee..."
A chill ran through Franz; he patted his pounding chest. How many times would she scare him today?
Calling the tower master for dispatch was pricey as hell. Not that he'd take many gigs anyway.
But Franz wasn't heartless enough to charge in this situation.
"Forget the money. Think of it as help from a hero party comrade."
"No, I can't. Elves don't take handouts—we repay our debts."
"Then just give me a fairy tale book."
"Franz, I'm being serious."
Franz rubbed his forehead at Hera's old-fashioned stubbornness. They said no one hated freebies, but this elf sure did.
Suddenly, something seemed to click for her, and she nodded.
"You said you'd make room for me earlier."
"Yeah...?"
"So, here's my offer: once all the elves are freed, I'll repay today's debt with my body. You can't earn a tower master's dispatch fee with ordinary work in a lifetime, right?"
Franz doubted his ears for a moment. As he blinked blankly, Hera dropped the clincher.
"Not getting it? I'll become your slave and repay it for life, Franz."
Help her out, and she tries to make me a criminal...
Franz raised a hand to his forehead.