Lucha Village
It was uncomfortable. Truly, terribly, extremely uncomfortable. It wasn't the swaying horse, the bumpy road, or the early winter chill that bothered me. It was Duke Fides—no, Jing—who was making me incredibly uncomfortable.
"Lord Ran, are you comfortable?"
"Lord Ran, are you hungry?"
"Lord Ran, the road is rough; is it too difficult for you?"
Lord Ran, Lord Ran, Lord Ran.
This interrogation from hell had begun the moment we safely cleared the capital. From the second I mounted my horse, Jing had started fussing over me whenever he anticipated even the slightest inconvenience.
When he went so far as to ask if I was having a hard time because there were too many rocks on the path, I genuinely began to wonder if his eyesight was failing so badly that he was confusing me with his eleven-year-old son. If a rugged mountain trail didn't have rocks and gravel, how would it be any different from a modern paved road?
Other royals might have eaten it up, but his coddling was driving me absolutely insane with pressure. It was the first time since coming to this world that I had heard the name 'Ran Abaran' so frequently. At this rate, I was going to forget whether my name was 'Ran' or 'Lord'. I felt like I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
"Lord Ran, are you feeling unwell?"
Seeing him scrutinize my complexion yet again, I ground my teeth, swallowing down a curse.
"I told you to just call me Ran, not Lord Ran. And I'm perfectly fine. Please, stop asking."
"Understood, Ran."
He'd say that, but he'd go right back to calling me 'Lord Ran' in a few minutes anyway. Having a man old enough to be my father fuss over me when I was pushing thirty myself made the blood of Suhyun—the independent adult who had lived on his own for over a decade—boil with sheer awkwardness. Besides, it wasn't as if his goodwill stemmed from pure, unadulterated gratitude.
To alleviate at least a fraction of the suffocating pressure, I nudged my horse's flanks and sped up.
"Lord Ra—Ran! Are you sure you aren't experiencing any discomfort?"
You're the one causing me discomfort. If I actually said that aloud, he would undoubtedly cling to me, demanding to know exactly why he made me uncomfortable.
"By the way, it is strangely quiet. We haven't been attacked by a single wild beast. Even when we spot them, they turn back immediately, making it rather difficult to hunt them."
Oblivious to my inner turmoil, Jing looked around casually, speaking with a touch of disappointment.
That's because I sent away every single animal before you could lay a hand on them. It wasn't that I was swearing off meat, but watching creatures I could somewhat communicate with get slaughtered right in front of me wasn't a pleasant sight. It wasn't as if we were so low on rations that we desperately needed to hunt, either.
"They must be preparing for hibernation. Winter is just around the corner, after all."
"Is that so? Still..."
Steering clear of whatever further doubts he was about to raise, I tugged on my reins.
"I'll ride ahead and see how much further it is to the village. Why don't you and Ratel discuss what we should eat when we arrive?"
"As long as we find a decent place..."
"No, this will be our first meal of the day. I take my food very seriously. Please make sure to pick something delicious."
Terrified that Jing might try to tag along, I threw out the answer and spurred my horse forward. Jing was talkative, but he wasn't dense. He obediently pulled back to match Ratel's pace. Ratel didn't say a word, but the prickling sensation on the back of my neck told me he was glaring holes into me. I urged my horse faster. Once the distance widened and they vanished from sight, peace finally returned to my mind.
I needed to destroy the holy relic as quickly as possible. And then, I was going to make my escape. I wanted to live in a place where nobody knew who I was. Whether I eventually returned to my original world or stayed here forever didn't matter. As long as I wasn't a prince, life would be pretty much the same anywhere. That was the most comfortable path for me.
To achieve that peace, my first priority was safely destroying the holy relic. My second was finding someone to whom I could properly pass on my knowledge of this world. And the perfect candidate for that task resided in the place we were heading.
The crest of the hill finally came into view. Beyond it lay a cluster of modest buildings huddled together. A faded name on the signpost at the entrance of the village confirmed we had reached our destination.
LUCHA
This was the village where Ratel would meet his very first companion. It was a small, quiet place.
"Lord Ran, there is an establishment over there that serves as both a tavern and an inn."
Jing pointed toward a building that looked quite sizable for such a small village. However, I steered my horse in the opposite direction, toward a much smaller building situated on the outskirts.
"Lord Ran, didn't you say food was of the utmost importance? In places frequented by commoners, the quality of the food tends to decline the fewer customers they have."
Jing followed closely behind me, his voice laced with concern.
"Let's go to the smaller one anyway. If there are too many people, it will only be noisy."
"An excellent point. Fewer people means less chance of getting dragged into unnecessary trouble."
Jing agreed instantly, urging his horse alongside mine. Honestly, even if I had chosen a packed, bustling restaurant, he would have found a way to agree with me. He probably would have said that a crowd made for a perfect cover to hide ourselves. It was a relief, in a way. From this moment on, our steps were taking us down a shortcut straight into all kinds of bizarre incidents. Hoping to chip away at his blind faith just a little, I rode on.
Screeech— The grating sound of the old wooden door opening set my teeth on edge. Straight ahead, a man who appeared to be the owner was wiping down a table. He was a solidly built man with dark brown hair. He turned around slowly to look at us.
"..." Without so much as a standard greeting, his dark brown eyes scanned us from head to toe with blatant wariness. I didn't take my eyes off him either, though my gaze was driven more by curiosity than suspicion. For a tavern cook, his hands were massive and heavily scarred, his frame was exceptionally sturdy, and his hair was a deep, rich brown. He was exactly as described through the eyes of the original narrator.
The tavern must have just opened; most of the chairs were still stacked upside down on the tables, and only a handful of patrons were seated. Jing hesitated briefly at the owner's distinctly unfriendly reception, but he didn't voice any complaints about my choice. We made our way to a moderately sized table in the far corner and sat down. The brown-haired owner approached us, making no effort to hide his suspicion.
"Pork stew, three meat pies, steamed salmon, and glazed carrots," Ratel ordered rapidly. It seemed he really had discussed the menu with Jing. The owner stared down at Ratel, who had rattled off his order the second his rear hit the chair, before turning to leave. Anticipating this, Jing quickly called him back.
"Those are for the boy. For the two of us, just the pork stew and some bread will do. Oh, and three beers." Unless he planned on drinking two pints himself, those three beers were meant to be split among the three of us. That wasn't going to fly.
"Make that two."
"Would you prefer water, Lord Ran?" Jing asked when I corrected the order. Instead of answering him directly, I turned to Ratel. "Are you going to drink water?" Only then did Ratel realize the omitted beer was his. One of his eyebrows arched. He looked straight at the owner and said, "Three beers."
"I don't think alcohol will suit your palate." Ratel tilted his head, clearly annoyed that I was making assumptions about his tastes. "I don't dislike it." Like hell you don't. There was literally a scene in the side stories where he confessed to Jing that he couldn't understand why people drank such bitter stuff. Still, seeing him stubbornly cling to his pride felt somewhat appropriate for his age. Since I had no desire to watch a minor force down alcohol right in front of me, I spoke up casually.
"I didn't realize you enjoyed such bitter things. I'll keep that in mind for the future." When I spoke with mock understanding, Ratel hesitated. He maintained a blank expression, but I knew his mind was racing. If he agreed now, he'd have to pretend to enjoy alcohol and all sorts of bitter things in front of me from now on, which he definitely wouldn't want.
"Do whatever you want. I don't care either way." He glared at me as if he wanted to murder me, but so what? It wasn't like today was the day he'd actually try to kill me. And before that day ever came, I'd be long gone.
"Just bring us three cups of water, please." Unable to watch any longer, Jing gave up his own beer, putting an end to Ratel's dilemma. Fortunately, this bizarre psychological warfare seemed to lower the owner's guard slightly. A brief flash of sheer pathetic amusement had crossed his face. Having logged us as a bunch of oddballs, he turned and walked back into the kitchen.
"Traveling with youngsters certainly burns through the food budget. It's been so long since I've managed finances that I'm not even sure if I'm doing it right." Jing shifted slightly, blocking Ratel's glaring eyes from my view as he changed the subject. I figured it was less about "youngsters" in general and more about Ratel specifically, but I kept that thought to myself. He was at the age where he could eat a horse, so it couldn't be helped.
"The cost of living in this village is on the higher side." Lucha was an isolated village surrounded by mountains on three sides, making supply transport difficult and driving up overall prices. Jing nodded in understanding.
"It makes me appreciate Tollin, who used to handle all our finances," Jing murmured. At his words, Ratel scanned the tavern. "Our pockets aren't the problem. It's everyone else's pockets. The people here don't look very well-off." Seeing Ratel's gaze linger on the coin pouches hanging from the patrons' waists, Jing hastily shifted his body to block his line of sight.
"If we run out of money, I'll perform acrobatics on the street to earn some, so please, stop worrying about our pockets or anyone else's." Ratel stared at the desperate Jing for a long moment before shrugging. "I was joking." I would bet my breakfast that at least half of that was dead serious.
"Though I wouldn't mind seeing you tumble around for coins, Jing," Ratel added to the still-suspicious older man. Seeing the slight tug at the corner of Ratel's mouth, I felt a small wave of relief. Even if things had deviated slightly from the original novel, the bond between the two of them seemed intact. If their relationship had fractured on top of this already grueling journey, it would have been a massive headache.
I was just imagining Jing struggling in a future where I was no longer around when I looked up. My eyes locked with a pair of golden irises staring intently at me. How long had he been watching me? Ratel, who had been exchanging banter with Jing just a second ago, was now glaring at me.
Sometimes, the human body doesn't move exactly how you want it to. Your eyes might wander, landing on something unexpected. But to hold eye contact for this long without flinching meant only one thing: he had something to say. Was he still holding a grudge over the beer? I glared back, my eyes screaming, What, you got a problem? Ratel's lips began to part.
Clatter! Unfortunately, I never got to hear what Ratel was going to say. The tavern door was flung open with violent force, and a rowdy group of men burst inside, instantly shattering the quiet.
"Hey, Ethan!!! We came to convince you once and for all today!!! You have to enter the Lucha Tournament with us this time!!!"
There was no doubt that the 'Ethan' they were shouting for so excitedly was the tavern owner. At their desperate calls, the brown-haired man emerged from the kitchen once more. He opened his mouth.
"Order first."
"Damn it, does that even matter right now?"
"It matters. If you aren't buying, get out."
At his flat refusal, the men muttered curses and ordered a round of beers.
"Now, give us an answer. Are you going to enter the tournament with us this time? You are, right?"
Ethan stared at the pleading eyes of the men, who hadn't even sat down yet. He opened his mouth. "No." And with that, he retreated back into the kitchen, leaving the men to their despairing groans.