A Grand Ambition
"That was... Lord Cedric Rowell, right? The one who always acts on his own," Charbun stammered politely.
"He doesn't 'act on his own,' he's just a selfish bastard. I only wish he had half your decency," Jane grumbled.
"U-Uhhh..."
Jane let out a heavy sigh.
Belgard silently nodded in agreement.
Seeing their reactions, Charbun broke into a cold sweat.
Lord Roan treasures his comrades so deeply... Is it really okay to speak of them like that? Charbun thought, his heart racing.
Even if they had been together a long time, there were certain lines one should never cross. And Roan's ultimate line—his untouchable sore spot—was his comrades.
Charbun began to steal anxious glances at Roan.
"E-Excuse me... Lord Roan? Are you... are you alright?"
"Bwahaha!"
Far from being angry, Roan burst into hearty laughter. But just as quickly as it had risen, the curve of his lips flattened.
Having put on a thoroughly theatrical laugh, Roan readily agreed.
"You're not wrong. He really is a reckless bastard."
"O-Oh... is that so?"
Charbun let out a quiet breath of relief, glad that Roan wasn't angry. However, Roan's agreement didn't mean he had any intention of leaving the troublemaker to his fate.
"But he's still our comrade. By the end of all this, he'll be just as strong as the rest of you. We can't afford to lose a guy like that, right?"
There was no need for persuasion. Roan was the leader of this party, and they had already resolved to follow him.
"Fine, let's say you're right," Jane said. "So what's the plan? Do we just follow that thing?"
The fragment of black iron armor trembled, slowly shifting as if signaling, This way! We have to go this way!
"Yeah. Though I really hope it's somewhere close..." Roan muttered.
"Because you're worried about what might happen to Mr. Rowell?" Belgard asked.
"Well, that too, but mostly because it'd be a waste of the money we spent on this lodging."
Their finances were draining rapidly, slipping through their fingers before they even had a chance to save. If they kept booking rooms only to abandon them like this, they would be broke in no time.
...Well, let's worry about that later. Money can always be made, but comrades can't be replaced.
"Alright! Let's talk while we move. Charbun doesn't really know much about Rowell yet, so I'll fill him in on the way."
As Roan stood up, the others finished preparing to head out. Their hard-earned rest after a grueling expedition had been abruptly cut short, yet not a single person complained.
So this is what true camaraderie looks like... Charbun thought, deeply moved. Even though they travel separately, they share an unbreakable bond of trust...
"If they trust each other so much, they should've just traveled together. Why bother going solo..." Jane muttered.
"I'll have to give him a piece of my mind when we find him," Belgard added.
Ah, maybe not... Charbun sweatdropped.
It was simply that Roan's influence over them was absolute. Despite their grumbling, the party set off. This time, they had no set destination—they were entirely at the mercy of the guiding armor fragment.
"Hmm... he's further away than I thought," Roan noted. "Should we camp for a bit? We pushed straight through the canyon without any sleep, after all."
Having skipped sleep already, it was high time for a break. If Rowell were in immediate, mortal danger, the armor fragment would have been vibrating much more violently. The fact that it wasn't allowed them this small luxury.
Charbun set down his pack. Looking at the heavily stuffed bag, Belgard let out a sigh of relief.
"At least we still have all our expedition gear intact."
"Seriously. If Charbun had already sold it off, we would've had to buy it all over again."
Though they didn't say it outright, both of them were clearly worried about their dwindling funds.
They're right... we really need to establish a base of operations soon.
But establishing a proper base meant taking on an immense amount of work.
If we set up a base at the edge of the continent, that poses its own problems. It'll take too long to respond when crises break out elsewhere.
"Hey, guys," Roan called out to his comrades as they set up camp.
"If we were to build a base, where do you think would be the best spot?"
"...Where is this coming from?" Jane asked.
Yet, they were already well-accustomed to Roan's sudden whims. They continued pitching the tents while offering their thoughts.
"Are you planning to settle down somewhere permanently?" Belgard asked. "If so, one of the kingdoms or the empire would be the safest bet..."
"But wouldn't that mean we'd have to submit to their authority?" Jane countered. "I'm not interested in that."
"I... I also do not wish to take orders from others," Charbun stammered.
None of them seemed to relish the idea of serving under someone else.
"Honestly, I feel the same way," Roan said. "But wouldn't it still be better than constantly moving from inn to inn like this?"
"...That's true. We could customize it however we want, and having a familiar place to return to would be comfortable."
"And it would save us a lot of money," Belgard added.
Everyone was showing genuine interest, and the feedback was overwhelmingly positive.
"But knowing you," Jane said, squinting at Roan, "the fact that you're bringing this up means you already have a place in mind, don't you?"
"Bullseye!" Roan replied instantly. He wouldn't have brought it up if he hadn't already worked out a plan.
"Of course, I'll take any good suggestions into consideration. But! If no one has a better idea, we're going with mine!"
And as they all knew, a plan devised by Roan was bound to be absurdly difficult to execute.
"...Let's hear it then. Where is this dream base of yours?"
"Simple! We're going to take over The Battleground!"
"Hah."
"Pardon?"
Gasp!
Their reactions were a colorful mix of disbelief, shock, and sheer bewilderment. It was only natural. He was talking about seizing the very warzone where all the major nations of the continent clashed.
Yet, strangely enough, none of them thought it was impossible. Even though there were only four of them right now. Even if they gathered all the comrades Roan kept talking about, they would only number seven.
"Fine," Jane said. "So once we rescue that Rowell guy, we head straight to The Battleground?"
"No. That's a long-term goal."
To claim that land meant declaring themselves an independent power to the entire continent. They would need to prepare thoroughly before making their move. They would also need the funds and materials to actually build a base once they secured the territory. For now, it was purely a grand ambition.
"So you don't need to stress about it too much. I'll keep working out the details on my end."
Roan spoke casually, but... how could they possibly not stress about it after hearing something like that!
He was talking about usurping the very heart of the continent, where all races and nations converged. It was mind-boggling.
Still, no matter how much their minds raced, they couldn't fight off the exhaustion weighing down their bodies.
Having slept deeply from early evening until the next morning to make up for lost rest, the party finally woke up.
"Alright! Everyone fully awake? Then let's get back to finding Rowell!"
"...Is that armor piece still working?"
Roan nodded and held up the fragment. It was still squirming. It pulsed with intermittent tremors, as if warning of some impending danger Rowell was bound to face.
With the armor fragment as their guide, the party pressed forward.
"Ugh, stupid tree roots..."
They pushed through dense forests,
"I spot a pack of goblins ahead. What should we do?"
They cleared out monster nests,
"We've hit an established path now."
And eventually made their way back onto public roads.
After walking relentlessly without regard for the terrain, Charbun, who was leading the way, suddenly halted.
"Hm? What is it? Did you find him? The black armor?"
"N-No... it is not that, Lord Roan... I just... I smell a strange scent in the air."
A strange scent? Intrigued, Roan walked up to stand beside Charbun.
It was a crisp, refreshing scent with a hint of salt. The breeze carried a cool moisture, carrying with it a profound sense of liberation.
"Ah, right. Bebelhon was close to here."
"Do you mean...?"
"The sea."
At Roan's words, Charbun practically leaped in place. Ah, the vast, blue, majestic ocean! A refreshing purity that was worlds apart from the dry, throat-burning winds of Horoljulol! Though he had never actually seen the sea in his life, that only fueled his soaring anticipation.
"The armor fragment is still pointing this way, right?" Belgard noted. "If I recall correctly, continuing down this path leads straight to Tyramore..."
"...Tyramore?" asked Jane, whose knowledge was somewhat lacking in areas outside of magic and the Mage Tower.
"Yes. It's a coastal city under the jurisdiction of the Holy State. I heard it's quite famous as a resort town."
"Hmm." Jane's interest immediately evaporated. They weren't here for a vacation.
"So that Rowell guy came here for sightseeing? If we're heading toward the coast, that's the only place he could be."
"Is that so?" Roan murmured. He knew Cedric's personality, but he couldn't read his mind. He had no idea what had brought Cedric here.
As if to answer Jane's question, the armor fragment continued to tug insistently toward the sea.
"Let's just go. Whether he's vacationing or not, finding him is our top priority."
At Roan's command, the party resumed their march. As they savored the salty sea breeze, they soon emerged from the forest, and Tyramore unfolded before them.
"Whoa..." Charbun gasped in awe. The view before him was truly breathtaking.
A pristine beach stretched endlessly to the left and right, met by crashing white foam. The sun-drenched sea sparkled like scattered diamonds, and the wind sweeping across its surface wrapped them in a crisp, briny embrace.
Buildings lined the hills overlooking the water, their white and blue facades mirroring the colors of the ocean itself.
Seagulls soared over the rooftops with sharp cries, accompanied by the rhythmic, musical crashing of the waves. It was a scenery that seemed to wash away all the fatigue of their long journey.
"Huh?" Charbun, who had been staring blankly at the beautiful sight, suddenly let out a confused sound.
"What is it?"
"Over there, look," Charbun said, pointing toward Tyramore. "You said it was a resort city, right? But... why is there not a single person in sight?"
In stark contrast to the peaceful scenery, the beach was completely deserted. There wasn't even a single footprint in the sand, suggesting that no one had set foot here in quite some time.
Following the guidance of the armor fragment, they ventured deeper into the city. The buildings were perfectly intact, but entirely devoid of life. Unlike the vibrant energy of the ocean, all life on land seemed to have completely withered away.
"...I think I get it," Jane muttered. "Rowell must have taken a commission and come here. And the armor fragment is vibrating because it sensed that whatever he's facing is no ordinary threat."
It was a sharp deduction. Sure enough, as they walked a bit further, they spotted Cedric Rowell. He was deep in conversation with an elderly man who looked weighed down by immense worry. From the context, the old man appeared to be a local official of Tyramore.
"What should we do? Should we observe the situation first—"
"Rowell!" Roan shouted, waving his hand enthusiastically as he marched forward. It was the typical, unreserved behavior of a man who hid nothing from his comrades. The other three didn't even blink; they had fully expected him to do exactly that.
With that, they all approached Rowell. It was the moment their gathered comrades finally united in one place.
"Glad to see you're safe! What are you up to?" Roan asked.
Rowell turned to look at them, his brow furrowing as if he had just heard the most annoying voice in the world. His eyes then drifted to Charbun, and his scowl deepened.
"A new face. He looks decent enough..." Rowell muttered, before scoffing. "Anyway, what are you lot doing here? Did you come to enjoy a vacation?"
"For people who claim they're going to save the world, you sure have a lot of free time. But I've got bad news for you—your little vacation is canceled." Rowell pointed toward the open sea. "If you were planning to enjoy the beach, you'd better forget it. A massive monster appeared in Tyramore a few weeks ago."
As if on cue, ripples began to spread across the water, radiating outward from the very spot Rowell was pointing to.