Chapter 16
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: Mugs and Musings
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As summer drew near, the long-reigning sun began its descent beyond the horizon. It was late evening, and from the windows of a large inn with a spacious stable, a vermilion glow and boisterous laughter spilled out.
“Three more beers over here!”
“When's the food coming! We ordered ages ago!”
“Broke my mug, bring me a new one! What, you think I already drank it all? Got any proof?”
I'm going to lose my mind!
Mei, a waitress here, was at her wit's end with the customers' constant shouting. She wanted nothing more than to scream at them to just wait, but she bit her tongue. And for good reason; the patrons filling the inn were, to a man, mercenaries with hard, intimidating faces.
It wasn’t called the Mercenaries' Rest for nothing.
With six younger siblings to support, Mei had no choice but to endure it. Otherwise, she would have quit long ago. The inn was just that full of eccentrics.
Just then, the inn's door burst open.
Already swamped, Mei grimaced at the sight of new customers and quickly sized them up.
There were three of them: two large men and a beautiful woman in an elegant blue robe. Mei swallowed hard. Their appearance was a far cry from the other rough-and-tumble patrons.
Could they be a noble lady and her guardian knights?
Her imagination taking flight, Mei hurried over to their table.
“Are you ready to order?”
The woman in the blue robe spoke with a faint smile.
“Three large mugs of beer. One roasted turkey. And some soup and warm bread to start, please.”
“Yes, right away!”
Watching Mei bow politely before running to the kitchen, Kyle muttered.
“Seems she’s a natural at this waitress thing…”
Luon, sitting across from him, chuckled.
“And you? Is this job your calling?”
Kyle answered, rubbing his shoulders.
“I don’t know if you can call trailing after a hero with a holy sword and a mage a ‘job.’ All I know for sure is that my shoulders are killing me from lugging this shield around all day.”
At those words, Amella opened her eyes slightly.
“I’ll have to take some time to study that shield later. The principles of how it disrupts the waves… or at the very least, so I can properly calculate its range.”
Kyle nodded at Amella's words and then spoke.
“Anyway, Sir Luon. Could you ease up on the formalities? We’re going to be together all the way to the Magic Tower, and you can’t just keep calling me ‘you’ the whole time, right? Just call me Kyle. Or hey, even ‘hey, you’ would be fine.”
Luon shrugged.
“If you promise to stop calling me ‘Sir Luon,’ I'll think about it.”
“Alright. Luon… Mister Luon.”
“Drop the ‘Mister,’ too.”
“Oof, that’s a tough one… I’ll do my best.”
Amella cut in.
“Just call me Amella.”
In the meantime, Mei began placing the prepared food and beer on the table. There were quite a few dishes, so Luon reached out without thinking and helped her arrange them on the table. Startled, Mei exclaimed.
“I-I'll do it, Sir Knight.”
While Luon stared blankly at the unexpected title, Mei finished setting the table, gave a deep bow, and hurried away.
Amella, who had been suppressing a laugh, spoke.
“Looks like that girl is seriously mistaken about something. Anyway, Luon, has she caught your eye? Why did you suddenly help her with the dishes?”
“She's on the cute side, but... isn't she a bit too young?”
Luon frowned at their words.
“Where I'm from, everyone does this.”
“Where are you from?”
“The Republic of Korea.”
“I've never heard of that place before…”
Of course you haven’t, Luon thought. He had no intention of satisfying Amella’s curiosity and immediately took a gulp of his beer. The beer was cold. Even the bitter taste that coated his tongue wasn’t bad.
Kyle took a drink of his own beer, let out a satisfied sigh, and said.
“This is good. Aren't you drinking, Amella?”
Amella, who had been silently tapping her fingers on the table, suddenly came to and brought the mug to her lips. Her head tilted back further and further as she downed the beer with an extraordinary vigor. Soon, she slammed the mug down with a bang—it was completely empty.
At the impressive display, the men sitting nearby whistled and cheered. It seemed everyone had been watching Amella, though they tried to pretend otherwise. Well, she does have a face that would turn heads anywhere.
Amella said.
“My original plan was to head straight for Rosais and cross the Dunce Plains. But as you both know, we can’t be sure how long the fragment’s seal will hold, so sticking to the original plan is out of the question. We’ll have to alter our route.”
Luon asked as he brought a piece of bread, soaked generously in soup, to his mouth.
“To where?”
“I’m thinking of going to Dumfries.”
“Any particular reason?”
Just then, a steaming roasted turkey was placed on the table. Amella ordered three more beers before answering.
“I plan to strengthen the fragment's seal there. There's someone who can help. Though I don't know if they're still alive…”
“I see.”
Luon tore off a turkey leg, splitting it between Amella’s and Kyle’s plates. It was a natural habit for him—he’d always been the one to serve the meat back in his world—but the other two, not knowing this, simply exchanged awkward glances. Regardless, Luon added.
“This may be a fundamental question, but can’t you just teleport to the Magic Tower? You don’t know how?”
Amella shook her head.
“I can. But I can't go to the Magic Tower. The coordinates are scrambled. If I forced the teleport, I'd end up as an unrecognizable lump of flesh. Perfect for the gatekeeper to use as dog food.”
“…Amella, we're eating right now.”
As Kyle frowned, Amella asked playfully.
“You're squeamish about the strangest things. You seemed fine looking at the corpse earlier today, didn't you?”
“That bastard was a demon worshipper who got what he deserved. It’s a bit different comparing a pathetic prick who throws a spear without warning to being turned into a living meat pile.”
Kyle said, then glanced between the two of them before raising his mug to eye level.
“Shall we have a toast?”
“Sounds good.”
Amella also raised her mug. She nodded towards Luon, who was watching them with a blank expression.
“Why not play along for once, Tivela’s Champion?”
Luon chuckled and held out his mug.
“I told you, just call me Luon.”
The mugs met lightly in the air and then parted. The night grew deeper, but the boisterous energy inside the inn showed no signs of fading. The mercenaries celebrated surviving another day, clinking mugs with their comrades and talking loudly. Food scraps littered the floor, and the air was stale despite the open windows, but the atmosphere wasn’t half bad. Luon and his companions got swept up in the mood, drinking mug after mug.
The first to get up from the table was Amella. She said.
“I’m heading up. I like a good drink, but I value my sleep more. You two shouldn’t stay up too late, either. We need to set out early tomorrow morning.”
The moment she finished speaking, Amella disappeared upstairs.
“Well, damn. I was hoping to drink a little more… Mister Luon—no, Luon. What do you say we keep going? The night’s still young.”
His spirit was willing, but Kyle didn’t last much longer.
Luon’s high stamina stat gave his body a resilience that always sought to maintain peak condition, rapidly breaking down any alcohol he consumed. Faced with Luon’s virtually limitless tolerance for alcohol, Kyle was the only one whose tongue ended up thoroughly tied.
“W-well… the thing is… the reason I insisted on comin’ with you, *hiccup*! is ‘cause I wanted to repay you, Luon, even like this. That’s why. I mean, sure, I paid you, but, *hiccup*! a man’s heart… Anyway, the villagers would’ve wanted me to do this, too.”
Luon had the innkeeper help Kyle, who was rambling on with his confession to the point of tears, up to his room. Then he downed the rest of the beer in his mug. Mei approached, even though he hadn't called for her.
“Shall I refill your drink?”
“It'll be a hassle for you to go back and forth. Just bring ten mugs at once.”
“Right away, Sir Knight.”
Luon shook his head.
“You seem to be mistaken about something. I'm not a knight. I'm just…”
A mercenary. Luon swallowed the words. He gestured for the waitress, who was staring at him blankly, to go on, then gave a self-mocking smile. He didn't know when it had become so natural to introduce himself as a mercenary.
Where had the college student who loved grilling meat for others, whose face flushed after a single bottle of soju, disappeared to? All that remained was a lone mercenary who smashed monster skulls with his fists, whiling away a night where he couldn’t even get drunk… He didn’t know the answer to that, either.
He suddenly recalled the sentence that had held him captive for so long.
[Challenge countless monsters, demons, and legends, and complete your story.]
Then, a chuckle escaped his lips.
What the hell is the 'completion of a story' anyway?
Do I really have to kill those damn monsters every single day? Can’t just living like the people of this world—eating, drinking, enjoying myself—also be my story?
Even knowing such thoughts would yield no answer, Luon continued to brood.
The inn was still bustling, filled with the warmth of the crowd, but he felt increasingly detached from the scene, drinking alone. And as he drank, he remembered. The world he’d left behind, a memory he had pushed to the corner of his mind.
The ten mugs of beer disappeared in an instant, but Luon once again ordered the same amount. And so, the night grew deeper and deeper.