Charbun
"Now! On that note! Allow me to introduce our fifth companion! It is Charbun! Let's hear some applause!"
Clap, clap.
A sparse, dry patter of applause filled the modest inn of Horoljulol.
Truthfully, it could hardly be called an inn. There were no tourists here. Just like in Melgen, they had simply been given an empty house to use.
"E-excuse me... If I may, would it be acceptable for me to inquire... that is, if I might ask permission to ask a question—"
Charbun raised his hand, layering polite prefaces upon prefaces just to ask a single thing. His attitude was so cautious it was as if he believed merely speaking was an unforgivable rudeness.
"Hmm? What is it? Ask whatever you want, don't hold back! We're comrades now!"
"O-oh, no... Even if we are comrades, how could I ever presume to be so bold? You are the savior who rescued me, and you even possess the same ability..."
The same ability.
Roan looked down at his ring. Then, past the ring, he examined his arm and hand.
They were completely healed. Even though Belgard hadn't cast a single healing spell on him, his wounds had vanished without a trace.
It must be the ring's power. Is it because Deiar Hon left it behind? It feels somewhat similar to his...
For now, Roan pushed the thoughts of the ring aside. If he didn't, Charbun would likely spend the next several hours stuttering through endless prefaces. After Roan reassured him several more times that it was perfectly fine to speak, Charbun finally voiced his question.
"Y-you mentioned I am the fifth... If I may ask, where is the fourth companion?"
The room fell dead silent.
Startled by the sudden quiet, Charbun shrank his massive shoulders.
"I-I am terribly sorry! If it is a painful memory, please forgive my ignorance..."
"A painful memory? Yeah, we have one. In fact, it's still ongoing."
"I-is that so...? Might I ask what it is?"
"He's just a bit of a difficult person," Belgard chimed in. "He prefers to travel alone rather than with us..."
Charbun nodded, vaguely grasping the situation.
Why would anyone want to travel alone when they could be with such wonderful people?
He couldn't understand it, but it didn't matter. Either way, he was happy. He had escaped his life as a sacrificial lamb, and now he was going to see the wide world.
"So... what role shall I perform? If you would only give me an order, whatever it may be, I will do my absolute best to carry it out!"
"I like your enthusiasm," Jane said. "Well... Roan said he'd use you as a scout, but beyond that, who knows? No one ever knows what goes on in that head of his anyway."
"A-a scout, you say?"
"Yep!"
Roan nodded quickly.
"I call it a scout, but you'll be doing quite a lot of things. Gathering intelligence, running reconnaissance, that sort of thing."
"...Will that be alright? Given my... appearance."
Charbun timidly gestured to his own body. He was a towering giant covered in intricate tribal tattoos. He was the kind of person who would stand out like a sore thumb wherever he went.
Roan looked at him and gave a confident nod.
"I have no idea!"
"What...?" Jane muttered. "I thought you had a plan. Like, maybe those tattoos are some kind of magic that can alter his size?"
"I don't know that much! I've never actually seen Charbun at work!"
Their spheres of activity had been completely different in his past life. Because Charbun's duties required him to operate far ahead of the front lines, Roan had never had the chance to see how he pulled it off. He only knew that whenever he gave Charbun an assignment, the giant would always return with excellent information.
"Oh! But I do know he's incredibly timid!"
"T-timid..."
Charbun slumped his shoulders, looking thoroughly dejected.
"And!" Roan continued, causing Charbun to look up again. "I also know that despite being timid, you possess an incredibly strong sense of responsibility. That's why I believe you'll do a fantastic job this time, too. I really do."
Charbun had no idea why this man, who had only just met him, trusted him so completely. Yet, there was a strange, undeniable sincerity in Roan's voice.
Maybe we knew each other in a past life, Charbun thought, amused by his own ridiculous theory. He gave a firm, resolute nod.
"Y-yes! I will devote myself entirely to your service. For you, Lord Roan, and for the rest of the party."
Though he was still recovering from his ordeal, it was a genuine, heartwarming smile.
As the howling gravel storms of Horoljulol finally began to subside, a quiet calm settled over the inn. One by one, the party members introduced themselves. They explained why they were traveling, why they were gathering comrades, who they were, and what their roles were.
"So... while I do wield holy power, I rarely have to use it for defense. Roan's defensive capabilities are just too overwhelming," Belgard concluded, bringing the introductions to an end.
A brief silence fell over the room.
Breaking the quiet, Jane turned her gaze to Roan.
"So? Where are we heading next?"
"Oh? Look at you, all motivated."
"Of course I am. Our training is finally paying off. Plus, we've got a new recruit. We need to put him to good use."
"P-put to use..." Charbun stammered.
"Why? You got a problem with that?"
"N-no, not at all... It's just, if possible, I would prefer to take orders only from Lord Roan—"
Charbun cut himself off, flinching at Jane's sharp glare. He ducked his head so low it looked like an ostrich burying its head in the sand.
"Anyway! Where are we going?" Belgard asked, steering the conversation back.
"Excellent question!"
Roan gave Belgard a thumbs-up. As if he had been waiting for this exact moment, he pointed toward the window.
"The people here still seem a bit shaken up, don't they? Once they calm down, we'll explain the situation and make our exit."
And then, he added,
"We're going to the Empire."
"...The Empire?" Belgard asked. "Is it because of that happening there at this time?"
"The... destruction?" Charbun managed to squeeze out, the word feeling foreign on his tongue.
Roan nodded.
"I'm not entirely sure about the exact timing, but I do know it involves an event that has been running in the Empire for a very long time."
"...The colosseum?" Jane guessed.
"Exactly!"
The Colosseum of the Empire. A brutal arena where warriors fought to the death, promising immense wealth and glory to the sole survivor.
"C-could it be... that you want me to fight there?" Charbun asked hesitantly. With his rapid regeneration, he was practically tailor-made to excel in a place like the Colosseum. "I... I am a bit frightened of fighting, but if Lord Roan commands it, I will..."
Roan's expression turned complex. He knew all too well that Charbun's ultimate fate in his past life had been tied to that very Colosseum.
In my past life, he went to the Empire all by himself.
Charbun had entered the arena to gather information. While he had successfully used his unique traits to seize victory, what followed had been a tragedy.
After winning the championship, he vanished without a trace.
When Charbun failed to return, the party had traveled to the Empire themselves to search for him.
The only clue we found was that the champion was granted a private audience with the Emperor.
But they hadn't needed to investigate any further. Charbun's fate, his life, and the Emperor's dark schemes had all come to light at once.
The Emperor of the Empire had fused himself with an entity overflowing with wicked demonic energy.
Recalling that grotesque sight, Roan brought his thoughts back to the present and finally spoke.
"The Emperor of the Empire has sold his soul to a demon."
Therefore,
"We are going to the Empire to stop him."
That was the plan. They would conquer the arena, become the champions, and secure an audience with the Emperor.
"...But we don't have to worry about that just yet! For now, let's just kill some time until the people of Horoljulol come to their senses!"
At Roan's words, everyone looked out the window. The heavily tattooed warriors were still staring anxiously beyond the massive stone walls.
....
Five days passed. It was more than enough time for the people of Horoljulol to come to terms with the truth.
"...Outlanders, I must offer you my deepest apologies," said the man who led the tribe and oversaw their rituals, bowing his head low. "We believed it to be a guardian spirit protecting Horoljulol, but in truth, it was merely exploiting us."
"Your apologies should go to Charbun, not us," Roan replied, defending the giant to the very end. "He's the one who has been sacrificing himself all this time."
Hearing Roan speak up for him once again, Charbun's loyalty swelled to new heights. He had no desire to seek revenge against his tribe. He had already resolved to leave this place behind. From this moment on, he was a member of Roan's party.
Charbun bowed deeply to Roan—his very first act of devotion made out of free will, not obligation.
Noticing Charbun's gesture, Roan took charge of the conversation once more.
"Since Charbun doesn't seem to mind, I'll speak on his behalf. We're taking him with us. Is that alright?"
The tribal leader nodded hastily. Having caused such immense trouble, he was prepared to agree to whatever Roan proposed.
"And... please, accept this."
The man handed Roan a small stone tablet engraved with the same crest that was tattooed over his own heart.
"It is the absolute law of Horoljulol to repay both kindness and malice in kind. Though you are outlanders, you are our saviors. If your party ever finds itself in danger, break this tablet. Every single warrior of our tribe will march to your aid."
It seemed letting Charbun go wasn't enough to satisfy his conscience; he was offering a full alliance.
Although Horoljulol was isolated like an island, making their intervention difficult—
Actually, wait.
A brilliant idea flashed through Roan's mind as he accepted the tablet.
"Thank you! If the opportunity arises, we'll be sure to call on you!"
"No, the gratitude is entirely ours. Thank you for opening our eyes to the truth."
After exchanging their final farewells, Roan's party boarded their waiting carriage. It was finally time to leave. A long journey to the Empire lay ahead of them.
"...Even so, the weather hasn't calmed down much," Belgard remarked, looking out the window.
"The climate here has always been like this," Jane replied. Just because the evil spirit had been vanquished didn't mean the violent forces of nature would suddenly vanish. That was simply the inherent nature of the lands surrounding Horoljulol.
Roan turned his gaze toward The Battleground in the central territory. Through the hazy, swirling dust storms, the flags of various nations overlapped in the distance. If he strained his ears, he could almost hear the clashing of spears and swords, and the rhythmic thrum of war drums. A battlefield where the front lines shifted with every gust of wind.
Perhaps, in the not-too-distant future, he would find himself returning to that very place.
"Alright, then... Next stop, the Empire!"
Roan declared spiritedly.
Their next destination was the Empire. A nation built on blood. A place where only victory left a legacy, and where men died in pursuit of glory.