Nozomanu Fushi no Boukensha (LN) - Volume 2 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: A New Weapon and Newfound Strength 

“Oh, you’re here, huh? I know what you’re lookin’ for. It’s done.” Clope’s hardened features softened slightly as he greeted me, the edge of his lips curling up in a slight grin. 

Glancing to a corner of the shop, I followed Clope’s gaze. Sure enough, my eyes came to rest upon a single, gleaming sword, its edge a bright hue of silver. 

I suppose it actually was done, as this was the very sword I had requested from Clope. 

“Is that... My sword?” 

“Yeah.” Clope nodded in response. “Mana, spirit, divinity... It’s been forged to handle all three. Quite the amount of materials it used, too... But we managed to obtain enough, one way or another.” 

“I will offer... Compensation. For any additional... Expenses.” 

Having known Clope for a long time, I was familiar with his principles, especially when he would absorb additional costs if they weren’t quoted in advance. Because of this, I offered paying my fair share. 

Clope, however, dismissed my words with a wave of his hand, thinking for a short while before offering a response. 

“...Hmph. You’re always like that, aren’t you? I get it.” Clope nodded, as if accepting my proposal. 

“Oh, yeah... It’s one thing to make it, but this is a special blade, see. Not just anyone can use it, so I’d like you to try it out. If there’s anythin’ you’re not satisfied with, we can fix it up. It is one of my blades, an’ I put my all into it, after all... But a weapon for the thrice-blessed is really somethin’ else. There’s no knowin’ what could happen,” Clope said, staring straight into me. 

Clope did have a point. Though adventurers capable of utilizing both mana and spirit did exist, those that could use all three abilities, divinity included, were exceedingly rare. Just being able to use all three equally in a way that was practical in actual combat was virtually unheard of. A request of this nature would be a challenge to any blacksmith, even those well worth their salt. It was more than natural for Clope to request that I test out the weapon. I’d be surprised if he didn’t. 

I agreed with a curt nod. 

“Should I just... Head down to your courtyard... In the back?” 

Customers who visited Clope’s establishment were often invited to test out their arms there. It was an open space, with more than enough room for me to swing a sword. I supposed Clope would ask me to go there next. 

Clope snorted. “Oh, so you knew of that already? That’s exactly it. This way.” 

Standing up, Clope seemed amused that I asked such a question. Maybe it was to be expected, given that I already knew his answer. With the sword in hand, Clope led me into the back of the store, passing through some familiar doors. Following behind him, it wasn’t very much of a walk at all. 

Before long, Clope handed the sword to me, and I accepted the piece with both hands. It had a good grip, as if the sword had a life of its own, and was choosing to stick firmly in my palm. It would have been impossible to make something this well-fitting if Clope didn’t already know of my habits and preferences in life. 

There was no mistaking it: Clope made this for me knowing exactly who I was. 

Perhaps my evolution into a Thrall isn’t such a bad thing after all. That thought resonated in my mind as I tightened my grip on the instrument. 

It was a markedly different feeling; not too different from when I was a Ghoul, but a definite departure from when I was still a Skeleton. I had the flesh on my hands to thank, as they were no longer dry, but considerably thick pads that, still, were not very alive. 

Regardless, the tactile feel and grip I had on objects was slowly returning to how it used to be in life. That was a good sign, indeed. 

“What do you think of the handlin’?” Clope asked. 

“Pretty... Good. I would like to... Test it out. Give it a few... Swings.” 

“I see. Well, any target is fine, eh? I’ll cart a wooden dummy here, just give me a bit.” 

After a short while, Clope returned with a wooden dummy of sorts, setting it up in the middle of the courtyard. There were many kinds of target dummies, even ones with bamboo armor. An unarmed wooden one was a basic, yet simple choice. If I had in my hands a legendary weapon made of Mithril and Orichalcum, maybe something fancier would be warranted—for example, a dummy with metal armor and fittings. The weapon I ordered, however, was nothing of the sort, so I supposed a wooden dummy was fine. 

Although it was a special order, it was a normal weapon in most other aspects. If I tried to cut through metal with it one too many times, I would undoubtedly damage its edge. Though, this wasn’t taking into consideration the fact that this particular sword could be enchanted with mana or spirit. I wouldn’t have to worry about damaging the blade then, although I had no intentions of damaging it on a test dummy in the first place. 

Readying the sword, I steadied my stance, giving the weapon a few good swings on the spot. I had to ensure its weight and center of gravity was accurately tuned—all standard procedure, of course. 

This was what I always did after accepting a newly-forged order from Clope. 

Not noticing any problems, I enveloped the sword in a magical aura, bringing it down upon the dummy. It was a light, almost effortless stroke, and with a clean, splitting echo, the sword sliced through the wood. 

Clope didn’t attempt to hide his surprise. 

“...Hey hey hey, what’s this? You’ve gotten a lot better, huh?” 

The point of comparison in this case would be none other than myself, or at least, when Rentt Faina still drew breath. While I did have some skill in life, what I had just done was beyond me. I could split wood, but it was by no means a clean cut. If I had to describe it, it would be more of a hacking action, similar to clubbing the dummy with a metallic object rather than slicing through it with a sword. 

The split pieces of the wooden dummy, on the other hand, spoke for themselves. The surfaces had been sliced through cleanly, a testament to the quality of the weapon, and, more importantly, an indicator of the wielder’s skill. 

Compared to what I could do back then, my skills had grown vastly, to a point where I could take reasonable pride in my progress. It was in moments like these where I could tangibly feel and understand just how far I had come; it was an achievement to be proud of. 

Of course, this was only the first of many tests; I didn’t custom-order a sword that could utilize all three of my innate abilities just for show. I had much more to do, so I should give every single possible combination a try. 

Clope, understanding my intent, promptly switched out the fallen dummy for a fresh one. As he finished up his preparations, I began channeling my mana into the sword, enveloping its blade with my aura. 

Most adventurers skilled in the way of the sword utilized either mana or spirit—sometimes both. It was a standard of the trade, so to speak. I wasn’t capable of such overly complicated feats with my magic. Enhancing my physical blows with magical strength was the extent of my abilities, and the resultant blow had more than enough bite in it for my purposes. 

There was even more to all this: mana, and the magic it is woven into, also has the ability to preserve a blade’s sharpness, prolong its longevity, and, more importantly, slice through hard materials with ease. 

With yet another test swing of my new weapon, I found my blade almost slipping through the dummy before splitting it in two, a decidedly smoother experience than my first attempt. The myriad capabilities of magic were fearsome. There was hardly any strength in that swing, but it cut true nonetheless. Upon closer inspection, I discovered there wasn’t a single bit of wood stuck to the blade’s edge. In fact, the swing left an impossibly smooth surface on the parted halves of the dummy. 

Magnificent. 

With this, I would be able to make short work of rock-type monsters in the deeper levels of the labyrinths. I was more than satisfied with my new weapon. 

Next was a test on the applications of spirit. Once again, Clope set about replacing the wooden target dummy. 

I didn’t instruct him to do so per se, Clope simply did the chore himself. Maybe this was to be expected, given that we’ve known each other for the past decade or so. 

Withdrawing my mana aura, I took a deep breath before proceeding to infuse my sword with spirit instead. 

In theory, the benefits of spirit were somewhat similar to that of mana and magic, such as a spirit-infused blade remaining sharp and durable even with long periods of use. There were, however, other phenomena that could be observed if one utilized spirit in certain ways. 

Once again, I lifted my sword, swinging it down and into the dummy. Immediately after the blade began parting the wooden dummy, I released the spirit aura in my weapon. With a loud, splintering shriek, it promptly exploded, raining down wooden bits in Clope’s courtyard. 

This was one of the many applications of spirit: the controlled explosion of a target once the blade breached its flesh. In some ways, one could say that spirit was more destructive than the common applications of mana. 

The two uses contrasted significantly with each other; where practitioners of magic favored utilizing elemental enchantments on their blades to strike at monsters’ weak points, practitioners of spirit simply destroyed their targets with brute force. These could be considered different methods to solve a problem with, each with their own appropriate functions. 

Personally, I preferred to tackle Slime-type enemies with spirit, while Goblins, Orcs, and the like were easily dispatched with magic. Ultimately, it was down to individual preference. 

Last but not least was the application of divinity. It was an ability that brought about effects significantly different from the previous two, and yet, I found myself unable to describe exactly what it did. Even most individuals who could channel divinity, commonly priests and such, were hard-pressed to explain how their own application of divinity worked. 

Furthermore, swordsmen who were capable of infusing their weapons with divinity were incredibly rare. Commonly known as paladins, they were often tasked with being the public face of the Church or other religious organizations, and didn’t interact with members of the public very often. It was only natural that the specifics of channeling divinity through a sword remained somewhat unknown, or perhaps mysterious at best. 

Even so, I suppose the time-tested tradition of simply infusing one’s blade with divinity worked—and that much I could do. 

Divinity was said to be a kind of otherworldly power originating from the gods, or other lesser spirits. As a result, practitioners instinctively knew how to use their abilities, even without established theories or methodologies. There were still ancient institutions dedicated to the research of such techniques and skills, but that was knowledge I didn’t possess, nor had the means to obtain. 

In any case, this made testing simple. Without further delay, I channeled my divinity into the weapon. The first thing to consider when channeling divinity was if the weapon could take the strain of such a feat, for divinity had the power to cleanse and return an object to its original form. 

However, this meant weapons forged with alchemy and other magical means would be promptly undone by the nature of divinity itself, forcibly returning to its base materials where it would eventually become a few lumps of ore. To prevent such a thing from happening, the services of a skilled blacksmith were needed. Most blacksmiths were incapable of forging weapons that could withstand the channeling and use of divinity, though. 

Clope, on the other hand, was a first-rate blacksmith. My weapon displayed no irregularities as divinity surged through it, its blade encased in a soft, shimmering glow. 

Turning to the dummy once more, I raised my sword, conducting yet another test of its abilities. The amount of resistance, or lack thereof, was surprising. There was hardly any friction as the blade slipped through, even when compared to my usage of magic. I suppose this much was to be expected of the gods and faeries; its capabilities were truly distinctive. 

But the other effects of divinity made it a challenging ability to field. 

“...Hey. Something’s growing outta that dummy...” Clope said, looking down at the fallen halves of the wooden target. 

Curious, I approached the pieces, only to see sprout after sprout spring forth from the fallen dummy’s pieces. 

Was this yet another example of divinity’s restorative capabilities having unintended consequences? I was just as confused as Clope. 

“...Have you seen this... In other wielders’... Swings. Before?” 

“No, nothing of the sort. They say that the abilities of each practitioner differ depending on what granted them said powers to begin with... So, where’d you get your divinity from?” 

“I repaired... An old shrine. Near where I lived... In the past.” 

“Huh. Quite the pious act, eh?” 

“There was... Not much meaning. To my actions. I just felt... Like it.” 

In reality, I repaired the shrine in my free time as I couldn’t bear looking at it stand in a state of disrepair. I suppose the average passer-by didn’t stop and think they would try their hand at repairing a broken shrine, which was why it fell into disrepair in the first place. The shrine was unfortunately taken for granted... At least, until I fixed it. 

“Regardless of the reason,” Clope continued, “I s’pose that’s where you got that divinity of yours from? That old shrine.” 

“...Yes.” 

“Then we can assume that some sort of plant faeries lived in that shrine...or something like that. That’d be why your divinity and its aura has such an effect. Remember that priestess-saint that came to Maalt ages ago? They said she was blessed by some god of healing, cures people of minor diseases just by touching them. Yours...would be the plant version, if I had to say.” 

Clope’s explanation made a fair amount of sense. While I did recall having caught a glimpse of the priestess-saint from afar a long time ago, I wasn’t feeling particularly well that day, and didn’t remember much of the incident. 

If I had to put it into words, the strength of one’s divinity was directly proportional to the strength of the being that granted it. I remember reading such a passage from one of Lorraine’s books. 

To think I would have a knack for healing plant life, of all things... It didn’t seem like a very useful ability to have. 

Clope, as if reading my mind, drew my attention to the sprouts once again. 

“These sprouts are blessed, y’know. They’ll produce wood with divine properties if grown. Could I have ’em?” 

“I do not... Mind. They might just... End up as regular old... Trees, you know.” 

“That’s mighty fine with me, too. A hobby of mine, y’see. Maybe they’ll grow into strong trees that bear divine branches...or not. Rare stuff, nonetheless. I don’t know ’bout you, but I haven’t heard of any plant faeries-blessed saplings for sale lately.” 

Clope’s words had some historical truth to them, for it was said that humanity no longer received as many blessings from gods and faeries of the woods in recent times. To top it off, human-elf relations had been deteriorating as of late, when, if memory served, the two races once interacted on relatively cordial terms. 

—A thought for another time. 

I found myself somewhat surprised by Clope’s gardening habit. Perhaps it was just something we never spoke of before. As I stood, Clope set about replacing the target dummy yet again, this time with a small grin on his face. While I was familiar with some of Clope’s hobbies, I suppose he really did have a soft spot for gardening somewhere in those fire-tempered hands. 

To think that one with his face would have such a nurturing hobby. Unbecoming of me to say such a thing, yes, but Clope’s markedly improved mood was undeniable. 

Having finished preparing the dummy, Clope approached me, gesturing to it with a free hand. 

“Well, this is enough, isn’t it? We packing up soon?” 

I stood for a while, thinking about Clope’s question. There was one last thing I hadn’t tried yet. 

“...Magic. Spirit... Divinity. What would... Happen. If I channeled everything into... This sword?” 

“Now look here...” Clope’s previously content grin turned into a bit of a grimace as he put a hand to his chin, closing his eyes in deep thought. “You ever hear of anyone doing something like that? ’Cause I sure haven’t. Maybe someone somewhere can. But look here...we don’t know what’ll happen if you go and try it.” 

“...Is it for the best if... I did not try it?” 

As Clope said, those who wielded all three aspects were somewhat rare, let alone an individual that can safely utilize each one in combat. We could narrow the pool once more if we thought of the hypothetical number of persons who could safely channel all three elements into a single instrument at once. There was a tremendous amount of focus required for one to even channel any single aspect into a weapon. Channeling all three at once may indeed be too much for even a skilled adventurer. 

Even so... 

“Were there not some... Spirit arts. That involved both... Magic and spirit?” 

“That. What did they call it... Mana-spirit Fusion Arts? You have to train quite a while to do something like that, see. Even you know that only a few are capable. But, well... This one’ll prob’ly take two of those at once without issue. But if you throw divinity into the mix...even I have no idea. If you really want to try it, then at least start with a twin aspect Fusion Art. And with this, not your new sword.” 

Mana-spirit Fusion Arts were a complicated affair, as they involved the simultaneous channeling of one’s mana and spirit reserves, enchanting both the sword and wielder. This granted the wielder immense destructive capability and stamina. Few individuals could use this in a practical fashion, and the draining nature of the application made it difficult to control. An explosion could very well occur if any mistakes were made, so it was risky to even attempt training oneself to use the technique. It wasn’t difficult to see why individuals capable of using the technique were few and far between. 

...But I was of a different physical nature. I probably wouldn’t die even if my head was sent flying someplace. Similarly, injuries to the body could probably be shrugged off, as well. While I wouldn’t say it is safe for me to be practicing such a thing, it wasn’t as risky as it would be to a normal person. 

The sword that Clope held out to me was the piece that I was using up until now: the sword capable of channeling both spirit and magic. If I injected divinity into it as well, it could very well shatter, so I posed my concerns to Clope. 

“Well, it isn’t too expensive if that’s what you’re asking. Considering what you’ve paid for your new sword...I’ll just write it off as an expense.” 

Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, I picked up my old sword, handing my newly-forged piece back to Clope. I was to channel both magic and spirit into the instrument—that very same mana-spirit Fusion Art in question. 

In theory, that’s what I was supposed to do; in practice, it felt impossibly difficult. It was like I was trying to put more things into a box that was already filled to the brim. The box in question felt full and stuffed, and to make things worse, the flow of both aspects within said box was unstable. It was likely that disaster would surely happen if the contents of the box somehow spilled forth. 

From what I knew of the technique, the disaster in question involved an explosion somewhere in the wielder’s body, evident enough from the failings of the brave pioneers before me. 

I didn’t have much time for idle thought. As soon as Clope was done with his setup, I thrust my blade into the ill-fated wooden dummy. With a deafening crack, the dummy exploded violently upon coming into contact with the tip of the blade. The force and scale of the explosion was nothing compared to the spirit-induced explosion I demonstrated earlier. I could only stand on the spot, stunned as I continued staring at the aftermath of my attack. 

Clope was apparently doing the very same thing. 

“...If you ever mess this up, you’re going to become like that,” he said, his words slower and more deliberate than usual. 

Clope was right; it was a power that came with considerable amounts of risk. It was also excessively tiring—a single attempt at the technique felt like I spent the entire day practicing. 

“Just lookit that... And you still want to add divinity to it? Now see here... You don’t need me to tell you it’s a bad idea...” 

Clope had his misgivings, but I already made it all the way to this point. There was no choice but to move forward. Even if I failed, this body of mine ensured I wouldn’t die. 

Of course, my body could very likely be blown to bits and spread across Clope’s courtyard, at which point I would simply have to tell Clope the truth, and have him gather my body parts. After that, it would only be a matter of healing myself with divinity. 

Though, I had no idea if such a thing was even possible, or if I was capable of healing such great injuries. I couldn’t even begin to picture Clope smiling peacefully as he picked up my scattered body parts from the ground. 

This wasn’t simply a gamble; a strong attack required a fair amount of preparation and sacrifice. At the very least, I would like to be able to practice in a safe location, such as this one. 

This was another step toward my goal—I had to become a Mithril-class adventurer at any cost. No matter what it took. 

To that end, I had to grow stronger. If there was even the slightest hint of possibility, then I would do well to explore that path. It would surely be fraught with dangers and great risks. 

“Well...try it if you really want. But if it looks bad, you stop right away, y’hear...?” 

The problem, really, was being unable to stop when one needed to while channeling. For now, I shoved that thought aside. 

Having decided upon the course of action, Clope fetched yet another dummy, setting it up as I stood with my sword still in hand. 

It seemed that this was the last dummy available. I felt somewhat guilty for using up all of Clope’s supplies, but this was a necessary evil. Such services were included in the overall fee I paid when ordering my weapon, so I might as well make the best of it. 

Focusing once more, I channeled mana and spirit into the sword, just like I did moments prior. 

But this was easier said than done since the weapon already felt unstable as-is. I could hardly imagine it would be possible to channel anything else through the blade. Despite this, I set about doing what I decided. 

Steeling myself, I activated the reserves of divinity within me, forcing it to flow into the blade. I could see the familiar white aura creeping through the blade, although it seemed to have a hard time blending with the other auras present. 

I should have expected this, but even though I was somewhat disappointed, I was also relieved. But my relief didn’t last very long.

Crack. 

With that innocuous sound, a series of cracks spread through the blade. Though small, I understood all too well it would only be a matter of time before it spread to the rest of the weapon. Just my combining of the auras in such a fashion could trigger a backflow in which the combined auras would forcibly flow back into me, before spectacularly exploding. For a moment, I caught a mental glimpse of that future— 

This is bad... 

Even Clope, who was standing a safe distance away, was aware of this. 

“Hey, hey! You swing that sword right now, or you stop! Hurry!” Clope shouted, waving his arms wildly. 

If I stopped now, however, the experiment would end without any results. I only had one choice: I had to swing this sword down immediately. 

With that, I brought it high up above my head, bringing it down decisively in a single stroke. There was little, if any, resistance, much like when I channeled both mana and spirit simultaneously. 

Yet I was momentarily confused, for nothing particularly exciting was happening—until the target dummy started creaking, quickly collapsing into itself in a self-consuming spiral. 

This reaction continued until the dummy was reduced to a tenth of its size, finally dropping onto the ground harmlessly. At the same time, wide cracks spread through the entirety of the sword I was holding, and in an instant, the weapon crumbled into a heap of scrap metal. 

Thanks to the sword’s sacrifice, however, I avoided a potentially fatal backflow accident. If I had to guess, that unstable vortex of energy was thrust completely into the dummy, and was safely dispersed after my blow. 

Approaching the fallen object, I picked it up, inspecting it with a curious eye. This was all that was left: a compressed, almost ball-like piece of wood. It seemed like an immense force crushed and folded it repeatedly from the outside, before finally surrounding its entirety and compressing it into the ball currently in my hands. 

If this was the effect of combining all three aspects...what effects would it have on a monster, or even a human? 

It was terrifying to even think about such an event. 

Approaching me cautiously, Clope stared at the ball of wood in my hands with a somewhat complicated expression. Picking up the barely-intact hilt of the destroyed weapon, Clope sighed as he turned to me. 

“...No good—completely gone. Nothing left to salvage, either. Maybe the one I’ve forged for you could withstand such a technique... But. I wouldn’t try it, either way. If you insist on Fusion Arts, limit it to mana and spirit only.” 

“What would I do if... That did not work on... My target?” 

Although my tests felt like significant achievements, I was slashing at nothing more than a wooden dummy. With the exception of the final test, the results shown by my prior swings could be easily replicated by an adventurer of the Silver-class level. I suppose I couldn’t really call common techniques like these my trump card. 

“I get what you’re trying to say...but you ever consider what’d happen to your sword after you do something like that?” Clope, looking at me with an exasperated expression, offered an almost immediate rebuttal. He held up the ruined hilt of the weapon I was holding a short while ago. 

Again, Clope was right; if I did insist on using such a move, it would be a one-off, after which I would be unable to continue fighting. It was a problem worth mulling over. 

“Well...” Clope continued, “you could bring several swords with you and use them as disposable weapons. Even if you bring a bunch of cheap ones, they would at least have to withstand both mana and spirit... If not, they might just snap immediately. Of course, if you did do something like that, it’ll cost you. Immensely.” 

“I suppose... That is true. But then... How about... Throwing knives? I would be able to... Use them as a projectile... Weapon.” 

If I could do something of this sort, I would suddenly find myself with many more strategic options while exploring. Even if the weapons involved couldn’t withstand the auras channeled into it and disintegrated, the chance for backflow was low, given that the object would be far away from me by then. In such a case, these knives would have to be disposable since they would just be rendered useless after a single attack. 

“I wonder... Wanna find out?” 

As always, I found myself appreciating Clope’s generous gestures. He soon returned with a cheap knife I could use. 

Unfortunately, the experiment ended in failure. Maintaining the mixture of mana and spirit seemed impossible, as it would fade once it left my hands. Needless to say, I didn’t bother with attempting to infuse it with divinity. 

If I only channeled a single aspect, the weapon might be able to maintain its aura until impact, or else it would have to be used in close-quarters combat. 

The chief takeaways from this set of tests were that I now understood the effects of channeling mana and spirit through my new weapon, in addition to the utilization of mana-spirit Fusion Arts. That, and the channeling of all three elements wasn’t only risky, but would completely destroy a weapon, therefore I would strive not to use it with expensive equipment of any kind. Also, Fusion Arts were resource inefficient; they weren’t attacks to be used on a regular basis. 

That about summed it up. 

I felt I gained a fair amount of knowledge, but I was also now aware of the fact that powerful attacks often came with great consequences to the wielder, reminding me once again of the complexities of the world. Adventuring was hardly easy in any shape or form. 

Despite all this, I had a trump card to use in absolute cases and situations—the proverbial silver lining. I wouldn’t dream of using these attacks unless I was faced with a strong enemy, or if my life was in serious danger. 

As for the mana-spirit Fusion Arts, I felt confident I would eventually get used to the toll it took on me, maybe even up to a point where I could use it daily without many ill-effects. For this to happen, however, much practice was required. Practicing my weapon-destroying trump card would end up with me destroying a weapon every time I attempted it. 

According to Clope, a weapon forged from copious amounts of Mithril or Orichalcum might be able to withstand the forces involved, but naturally, I hardly had the funds for such a venture. 

In any case, all I could do now was work with what I currently had and continue my steady upward climb. Such was the conclusion I arrived at, once again being uncomfortably jolted back to reality. 

After paying Luka, Clope’s wife, the remaining payment owed for my sword and other services, I stepped out of the store. Although Luka’s gaze suggested she had something to say, she held her peace for now, and I, for my part, looked back at her with an ambiguous expression. Although, I intended to return her concern with a smile. 

But this was difficult, as the current state of my face made it physically impossible for me to form a smile at all. To make things worse, the skin on the lower half of my face was decidedly missing. 

While I pondered over my unfortunate inability to smile, Luka seemed reassured for some reason, responding with a small smile of her own. Did my otherwise ambiguous expression somehow convey the words I wanted to say? I could only hope. 

My next destination, having collected my weapon, was none other than the guild. I had every intention of starting work as a Bronze-class adventurer as soon as possible. Now armed with a newly-forged sword, I would surely be able to progress through the labyrinths at an even faster pace... Is what I would have liked to do. Lorraine and Sheila warned me to stay out of the labyrinths for a while, and to be honest, this greatly troubled me. Though, I suppose my circumstances were complicated enough as-is. Even if I did look suspicious, and depending on who you asked, terrifying, I would like to avoid being thought of as a kidnapper. 

I couldn’t help but wonder when I would trudge through the labyrinths again. 

All things considered, kidnappers and adventurers with ill-intent were all too common in labyrinths. Most adventurers were of respectable strength, and could utilize mana, spirit, and divinity. If one was captured and enslaved, they would certainly be sold for a large sum of coin. 

While the Kingdom of Yaaran (which Maalt was in) outlawed slavery due to the history and pride of the ruling class, it was more of the exception than the norm. In fact, many kingdoms in these lands often turned a blind eye to the slave trade. One could claim that the trade was fueled by the perverse few with the unquenchable desire to control the lives of many; but alas, this was not quite the case. Some societies across the lands simply became unable to function without a slavery system of some sort. 

For example, in dangerous industries such as ore-mining, it was difficult for employers to reach specified resource quotas without utilizing slave labor. In fact, some individuals were forced into slavery, often as a result of large debts. While they gave up a part of themselves, and with it some of their freedom, they would at least be able to maintain a shred of dignity by working away what remained of their debt. But it wasn’t uncommon to hear of individuals being mistreated simply because they were slaves. While formal laws didn’t exist in many kingdoms, the visible abuse of slaves was often not tolerated. 

Personally, I didn’t know which was the greater tragedy; it was generally a sad state of affairs. 

It was easy to see why slavers and kidnappers chose to target adventurers since they were so physically strong, in addition to their ability of using magic or Spirit Arts. The slavers, for their part, didn’t even have to look too far; all they had to do was enter a labyrinth and do their hunting. The potential criminals would have to deal with the guild and strong, virtuous adventurers. On the other hand, they could also seek the cooperation of adventurers with dubious morals; such was the way of the world. 

It would be naïve to think the only enemy of adventurers were monsters—reality was a much harsher mistress. This was why the rank progression tests were incredibly strict, part of the purpose being to weed out such undesirable elements. 

However, the slave trade was prohibited in the Kingdom of Yaaran, so kidnappings and similar incidents occurred on a much smaller scale. I couldn’t doubt that it still happened on these lands, and while I didn’t have any concrete sources, I could at least say that such occurrences were rare. 

This was exactly why the recent spate of disappearances had the guild on alert. Considering my strange appearance, I supposed it was easy to point the proverbial finger at me. Some might even go out on a limb and claim that I was behind it all, which was why I had to avoid the labyrinth, instead turning my attention to various odd job requests. 

I was somewhat skilled with these odd jobs in life, and didn’t find them difficult, but my thoughts were constantly haunted with the desire to undergo Existential Evolution. At the very least, I would like to evolve into a being that could show its face safely around normal human beings. As I currently was, I was unable to dine at restaurants and taverns. I have dined at Loris’s establishment on several occasions, yes, if only because Loris accepted my circumstances. And I only did this when there were no other customers present, while also out of sight of Loris’s wife, Isabel. 

While Loris thought my skin was simply some sort of prop when he first saw it, he quickly understood that it was real after a single touch, quickly withdrawing his hand. I explained it was due to an unfortunate curse, and as far as I knew, Loris accepted my explanation. I didn’t think that being a talking monster ever occurred to Loris. 

If I did evolve in the future, all I had to tell him was that my curse was lifted by a passing priestess-saint, and that would be all there was to it. 

Such were the thoughts that flooded my mind as I stood, looking at the request boards in the guild’s halls. There were a variety of odd jobs, from requests for a sparring partner to simple assistance for the transport of heavy items. 

As I continued peering at the listings, bits of a nearby conversation drifted into my ears. 

“I already said no, pal. Can ya go bother someone else? No one’s gonna go to some rural hole in the ground like that!” 

“B-But...! I’m begging you! Please, please, you have to help!” 

It was in the general direction of the guild reception’s counter. Upon closer inspection, the conversation appeared to be between a seemingly veteran adventurer and a flustered youth in his early twenties. 

From what I had heard, the circumstances were thus: 

The youth, in his desperation, was personally approaching adventurers in the hopes they would take up his request. The adventurer he was speaking with was refusing. It was also easy to guess why the adventurer was refusing to take up the task, seeing as most requests were simply left with the guild and pinned up on one of its many boards. The fact that the youth was personally doing this was suspicious enough. The request was probably already posted, but was not taken on by anyone due to its troublesome nature. Perhaps it involved long-distance travel? If this was the case, it was no wonder that the request still sat unfulfilled, and it wouldn’t be strange for the adventurer to reject the request to begin with. 

However... 

“You persistent bastard... If you don’t shut up right about now...” 

Maybe the youth’s persistence had touched a nerve. Whatever it was, the situation was about to take a dangerous turn. 

And so I decided to intervene. 

“...Hey.” 

“What...? Who the hell are you?” the adventurer said, shifting his gaze from the youth to me. 

His eyes were dilated and his expression wild; I could tell he was about to drag the youth off into some back alley or another, before engaging in acts of unbridled violence. That hostility was now directed toward me, the strange individual who got in his way. 

To tell the truth, I felt like I had to intervene. Even though Maalt’s adventurers were known for their morals and sense of ethics, this only applied to those who were primarily based in Maalt. This veteran adventurer in question wasn’t familiar, so it was highly likely he was a drifter of sorts. This also meant the odds of him engaging in acts of violence toward the persistent young man were predictably high. It was quite difficult to watch on and do nothing. 

“...Is it not obvious... From my appearance? I am an... Adventurer.” 

“Ha. Is that right? Well, what does this high ’n’ mighty adventurer hafta do with me?” 

“I would appreciate it... If you left the young man... To me instead.” 

“Wha...?” 

Staring at me with a baffled expression, the adventurer seemed even more surprised when I placed a silver coin into his palm, leaning in as I did so. “...I thought you... Would be in a mood to... Agree.” 

Upon hearing my words, a crooked smile spread across the adventurer’s face. “Oh, is that right? Well, that’s all good then. I’m gonna have some good wine with this, so do whatever you want with him!” 

With that, the man turned and walked straight out the doors of the guild. 

Although it wasn’t necessary for me to have paid him, he would have surely stayed around to grumble if I simply demanded the young man’s release. If I left the adventurer to his own devices, the outcome would surely be troublesome. Avoiding such a thing was probably worth at least one silver coin. 

The young man, on the other hand, seemed even more distraught. Perhaps it was to be expected, given that the adventurer he begged for help from left him in the dust. 

“Ugh...!” A pathetic expression indeed. 

With the situation resolved, I had the option of simply going back to what I was doing; but I was now one silver coin short. With that in mind, I turned to the youth. 

“You were... Asking him to take on... A request of yours, correct...?” 

“Eh...? Yes... What about it? Ah, don’t tell me...you would like to accept my request in his stead?!” the young man asked, his face brightening up instantly. 

I shouldn’t get his hopes up prematurely, for I was hardly as strong as I would have liked to be at this point. Judging by how the previous interaction between the two went, I could deduce that the request in question was too dangerous, even for a veteran adventurer. 

So I responded accordingly: “I cannot... Promise anything. But... I will at least listen to what... You have to say. Come.” 

Saying so, I turned, walking out of the guild hall with a brisk step. 

There was no way of telling if anyone else overheard the previous conversation between the youth and the adventurer, so I wanted to discuss this matter elsewhere, lest my actions appeared suspicious. 

To tell the truth, I always wanted to do something like this at least once. But there was no way of knowing if the youth would follow behind me, however. He could still be standing there, mouth agape. 

“Ah, yes! Wait for me!” the youth said, before running after me. I suppose it worked out after all. 

Turning to him as he caught up to me, I informed the youth of our next destination. 

“There is an... Eatery. Nearby. Let us head there... First.” 

With that, I walked off briskly once more, the youth following close behind. 

“Well... Then. What kind of request... Is it?” 

The eatery we headed to was none other than the Red Wyvern Pavilion, run by the ill-fated, now presumably retired ex-adventurer, Loris. Me visiting his establishment at such an early time of the day was rare, and most other shopkeepers didn’t bother hiding their involuntary repulsion when someone like me stepped through their doors. Loris, for his part, was incredibly grateful for my assistance, and always welcomed me with open arms. It was at times like this that I, too, felt a deep sense of gratitude for Loris’s hospitality. 

In return, I occasionally treated all diners present to dinner on my visits, which drew more customers to Loris’s restaurant. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement. I could afford to do this much nowadays, as I was no longer having to scrape every single bronze piece together to make ends meet. 

“Will... Will you really help me...?” the youth seated across from me asked, a somewhat apprehensive look on his face. 

I couldn’t just agree without first hearing the details. 

“I cannot... Give you an immediate... Answer. How about you first... Tell me what needs to be... Done. I will decide after... That.” 

Was I being too cautious? Trust did go both ways, however. 

Although the greater half of adventurers in these lands were capable individuals, they still failed requests occasionally, or sometimes withdrew from a request they already took on. A good adventurer was responsible about the types of requests they accepted in the first place, minimizing failures and withdrawals. Practicing good adventuring ethics would draw more repeat customers to said adventurer, eventually even specifically asking for them via the guild, or in person. 

As for myself, I had my doubts about having a trustworthy reputation, given how I looked. Even so, I suppose everything had to start from somewhere. 

“O-Oh... Is that how it works? I’m sorry...” The youth nervously apologized. 

Regaining his posture shortly, he took a deep breath. 

“...Well you see, the situation is...” 

And with that, I finally began hearing the specifics of this peculiar request. 

“I live in a small village to the east of Maalt. It’s a village near a lake...Ruiess Lake. It may be in the middle of nowhere, but it’s a nice place...” 

I suppose the veteran adventurer turned down his request because of its rural nature. Ruiess Lake, too, was by no means large. I vaguely remembered its geographical location with respect to Maalt. 

“Todds... Village? Was that... It?” 

Upon hearing his village’s name, the youth broke into a wide smile. “Y-You know of Todds Village?!” 

He was probably as surprised as I was that I could remember the name of such a rural village. While I couldn’t possibly know the names of each and every single village in the general vicinity of Maalt, I did make an effort to learn a little bit more of the surrounding areas. It just so happened that Todds Village in particular was known to me, and for a specific reason, at that. 

“I... Suppose. If I recall... That village hosts a... Strange festival of some sort. I’ve... Heard. That much. Always wanted to go... At least once.” 

If memory served, the festival involved the local villagers setting small wooden boats adrift on Ruiess Lake. Then, a young woman with magical aptitude and considerable beauty would be chosen from among the village’s population, and offered to the Lord of the Lake. However, the offering wasn’t an actual sacrifice by any means. Local legends spoke of how a maiden was offered to the Lord of the Lake in ancient times to protect the village from a disaster. The villagers merely continued the custom ever since. 

If I had to guess, this Lord in question was probably a monster of some sort. Not all monsters were hostile toward humans, after all. In fact, there were some monsters that peacefully co-existed with humans in some capacities. The monster living in the depths of Ruiess Lake would probably be one such monster, I thought. 

But the youth had a difficult expression on his face. 

“Well, yes...that’s true. However...that very festival is the problem...” he said in a faltering voice. 

“What... Do you mean?” 

“Well... I suppose you understand that we’ve been going through the motions of offering sacrifices to the Lord of the Lake, as usual. But...” 

Of course I knew that much. What the youth had to say next, though, genuinely surprised me. 

It would seem that the Lord had, as of late, begun to consume the sacrifices. 

“...Is it really all right...?” the youth said, swaying back and forth from the motions of the horse carriage. 

He probably meant to ask if I truly should have accepted his request. Perhaps a little late to be asking such a question, given that I was now on a carriage with him, en route to Todds Village; in fact, we were close to the end of our journey. 

Maybe it seemed strange that I was so eager to leave Maalt, but in reality, the village wasn’t too far away, requiring only half a day’s worth of travel by carriage. The fact that the veteran adventurer refused to take on the request indicated that he didn’t normally operate out of Maalt. 

To me, as one who did operate out of Maalt, Todds Village wasn’t an excessively rural location. Even Maalt was a frontier township in and of itself. If anything, it was the scenery that didn’t really change much at all. 

“I do not... Mind. Although I... Agreed to follow you, I have not formally... Taken on your request. After all... You yourself told me that... I could appraise the situation first. Carry out the request if it seemed... Possible. If not... I would give up. Right...?” 

It was exactly that. I ended up following the youth without formally agreeing to his request. 

To be absolutely honest, it seemed impossible for one such as myself to “do something” about a monster like the Lord of the Lake. While it was true I was stronger than I used to be, I was still very much a realist at heart, and I had no intentions of picking fights I couldn’t win. One lives only once... An ironic thought, coming from me. 

It would seem strange for me to make such a trip, then. Why travel when I was certain I was of no match for the monster in question? Well, defeating the monster wasn’t what the youth asked of me. Instead... 

“Yes... If you can save Amiris, my sister...then I am willing to do anything. Even if you cannot promise the same, I am grateful you are willing to at least try...” 

As he said, he wanted to save his sister, not for me to engage in any heroic monster slaying. 

Yes... If I recall, the youth’s name was Ryuntus, and, as he stated, his sister was Amiris. 

The problem was this festival in question...and the sacrifices it involved. According to Ryuntus, the “sacrifices” so far were mostly ceremonial; the girls involved never lost their lives. 

This all changed a month ago when the sacrifice who was set off to the middle of the lake apparently never made it back. And while the sacrificial festival was normally held on an annual basis, the Lord of the Lake now demanded a sacrifice every ten days. 

I wondered how a monster that lived in a lake could demand sacrifices... Ryuntus, sensing my confusion, went on to explain that the Lord in question had Kelpies under his command, monsters that left marks on the doors of the sacrifices the Lord desired. Kelpies themselves were monsters that lived in lakes and the like, and resembled horses with scales. They were also extremely strong monsters... 

“Is the Lord of the Lake... A large... Kelpie?” 

Ryuntus shook his head. “It’s said that the Lord lives even deeper in the lake. The Kelpies are...well, something like his familiars, I suppose...” 

To make strong monsters like Kelpies bend to its will... Did such a fearsome monster really exist? 

While I had my doubts, Ryuntus claimed the Kelpies didn’t attack anyone in the village. They simply journeyed in, left a mark on a door, and left. 

“Is that... Still the case, now?” 

“Well, no... Everyone’s afraid now, and we all stay in our homes at night... But there will surely be a mark left on someone’s door come the morning.” 

Although I didn’t want to be suspicious of my potential client, I couldn’t help but find Ryuntus’s words...strange. 

“Well, it seems like we’re here,” Ryuntus said, peeking out of the carriage before alighting altogether. 

I followed soon after, and was greeted by a scenic view. I supposed this was somewhere near Todds Village. 

“Big Brother!” 

A young girl flew into Ryuntus’s arms as soon as his feet touched the ground. Judging by her looks, I would say she was young, maybe 15 or 16. Upon closer inspection, she was quite a beautiful girl, with eyes of glinting sapphire. The very image of a potential sacrifice, if Ryuntus’s words were to be believed. 

—A joke I would only make if the sacrifices in question weren’t actually consumed by the Lord. Given the current circumstances, a statement like that would be in poor taste. The very thought of young girls dying because of this tradition was hard to swallow. 

“Amiris! Why have you come all the way out here? Isn’t it dangerous?” 

Ryuntus hardly seemed to be in the mood for a family reunion, and I could understand why, given the circumstances. 

We arrived a short distance away from Todds Village. While the gates were well within view, the path leading up to it was surrounded by forest. One couldn’t guarantee the path would be free of monsters, so it was certainly a dangerous journey for a young girl to make on her lonesome. It was, however, all too common for girls living in rural areas to venture into wooded areas alone for some reason. It was understandable that Ryuntus came across as somewhat over-protective of his sister, in light of recent events. 

It was plain to see that Ryuntus cared for his sister deeply, and was willing to journey all the way to Maalt for a chance at saving her life. 

“But you just suddenly vanished, saying something about going to the city... Oh, who is that person over there...?” 

Amiris narrowed her eyes, staring in my general direction. Her gaze was cold; it was easy to see she was suspicious of my presence. I felt somewhat discouraged—to think that someone who just met me would view me this unfavorably! 

But, I understood why she felt that way, for I was a strange, skull-masked man in a black robe with a sword slung behind his back. I’d be surprised if Amiris welcomed me with open arms. 

Ryuntus, however, quickly offered an explanation in my defense. 

“Ah, this person is going to save you from becoming a sacrifice, Amiris! He’s an adventurer named Rentt. He’s a Bronze-class adventurer, you know?” 

Ryuntus placed me on quite the pedestal. Perhaps this was to put Amiris at ease. He went through the trouble of fetching an adventurer all the way from Maalt for the express purpose of protecting his sister, after all. 

But Amiris didn’t seem impressed in the slightest. Her suspicious gaze remained as she pulled her brother off to a corner, speaking in whispered tones. A conversation she did not want me to hear, no doubt. 

Alas, such measures were futile, given the sharp hearing I was bestowed with ever since I evolved into a Thrall. I stood still and listened calmly. 

“Big Brother, have you been tricked again?! I’ve told you so many times not to get involved with strange-looking people in the city!” 

“B-But... Mister Rentt is a great person! He helped me out of a bad situation in the city, and he even offered to assist with the situation going on now...” 

“All lies, Big Brother... How could you even hope to afford a Bronze-class adventurer? You know how poor we are! Why would a Bronze-class adventurer come all the way out here with just any old request?” 

“Listen... It wasn’t a request I had the guild just put on the board. I personally asked him to come here with me...” 

“You’ve been lied to again... Sigh. They could get angry if we simply dismissed them now... What a situation you’ve gotten yourself in! Well, I’ll take care of it, Big Brother. All you have to do is follow my lead. Ugh... I can’t help but worry about you! What will you do with yourself when I’m gone...?” 

What a conversation, and not a pleasant one by any means. I had no means of cheating anyone, or robbing my clients of their coin, so it wasn’t difficult to see why one would make such an assumption given Ryuntus’s character. But those were some big accusations, nonetheless. 

Apparently finished with their discussion, Amiris approached me, addressing me in an excessively formal manner. 

“Adventurer...Rentt, yes? Thank you very much for accepting my brother’s request, and for making the journey to our village.” 

“Well...” 

I wanted to tell her not to worry about such things, but I was interrupted before I could go on. 

“However, the Festival of Offering has been an uninterrupted tradition in the village since days of yore. I could not possibly hope to end the tradition because of my own selfish desires. As such, I would greatly appreciate if you forgot about this entire conversation and returned to Maalt...” 

Unlike her brother, Amiris had a good grip of the world at large. 

Ryuntus, still standing some distance away from us, gestured wildly, presumably asking me to convince his sister otherwise. I apparently didn’t have much of a choice otherwise, so I turned to Amiris. 

“I accepted a... Request. From Ryuntus... The only person who... Can alter the terms... Of the contract. Is Ryuntus alone.” 

“But...” Amiris turned around, angrily glaring at her brother. Ryuntus only shook his head in rapid denial. Giving up, the girl sighed. “I understand... If you are to stay at the village for a while, then you may stay at our home. However, you are not to interfere with the festival. I have chosen to become a sacrifice of my own free will.” 

Is that right? 

While I had my own suspicions, I simply nodded, not wanting to complicate things further. 

“...Well, then. I am in... Your care.” 

“You really helped me out there, Rentt... You’ve now seen firsthand how stubborn my sister is! See, my sister is so stubborn! Once she’s made up her mind, there’s no more room for discussion...” Ryuntus shook his head. 

Having made my way to his and his sister’s home, we were now seated and engaged in discussion. The topic of the conversation was obvious: we had to come up with a course of action relatively soon. 

“Look at... What your sister. Is saying... How would I save her... Like this? What will you do...?” 

“Well... I actually had a plan from the start...” 

“Oh...?” 

An unexpected development. One would hardly think Ryuntus had it in him to carry out any kind of decisive action, let alone formulate a plan. 

Ryuntus continued: “Amiris will be sacrificed at the lake the day after next. The process is simple: she will be placed on a small boat of sorts and float out to the center of the lake. However, there will be three other boats present, as well; escorts for the sacrifice, if you will... All you have to do, then, is get on one of those escort boats.” 

“... I, of all people. On the boat?” 

I assumed the role of an escort was a rather important one. Ryuntus, however, simply continued with his explanation. 

“Well, you see... Those tasked with escorting the sacrifice are required to wear masks. All you have to do is take the place of one of the escorts, and there shouldn’t be any problems. In fact, I’m one of the escorts, being the sacrifice’s brother and all that. All you have to do is replace one of the two remaining escorts, then...” 

“I see. You have really... Thought this through.” 

Unexpected, indeed. The plan seemed like it could actually work, and that was the most surprising part. 

“Those tasked with guarding the sacrifice will be waiting by the lake before the festival begins. During that time, there won’t be any guards, which is to be expected since the escorts are there... And they’re just normal villagers, Rentt. So, basically, adventurers like you...” 

Ryuntus ended his explanation there, looking somewhat apologetic. I understood his sentiment—even if I could easily knock out the escorts in question, they were still his fellow neighbors. 

I nodded, finding the plan acceptable. Ryuntus, for his part, seemed relieved at my response. 

This undead body of mine doesn’t desire sleep or rest, even into the depths of each night, so I couldn’t help but feel bored, having to wait for daybreak. Rising from my bed, I made to leave the room. A breath of fresh night air didn’t seem too bad of an idea. As I placed my hand on the door, however, I felt the presence of a living being behind it. 

Sitting on a log outside their cottage was Amiris, who had apparently been staring at the stars in the night sky all this time. 

“What... Are you doing?” 

“Eh...?” Amiris seemed surprised at my sudden intrusion. “Ah, Mister Rentt... Is something wrong? It’s pretty late...” 

She turned toward me, some tears still clinging to her face. It was to be expected, I suppose. Contrary to what she said during the day, Amiris was evidently afraid of her impending fate. 

“I... Could not. Sleep. I see you are... The same.” 

“No, I...” 

“You were... Crying. Filled with sorrow over... Your destiny. Of becoming a sacrifice...” 

Amiris could only stare at me blankly when confronted with my blunt words. She probably wasn’t expecting a stranger like myself to make such declarations. Though, if I gave her the chance, she would surely offer one witty rebuttal or another. This was why I continued with my monologue. 

“Do not... Fear. There is no reason to be... Sad. I will do... Something about the... Situation. When there is a will... There is. A way.” 

There was no basis for what I just said, other than the personal experiences that I picked up over the course of my short life. Although becoming a Mithril-class adventurer was impossible for me in life, I had died and was reborn as a monster, granting me an unexpected opportunity at fulfilling my dream. Maybe then I would be able to do something about this sacrificial festival, and protect this girl’s life. 

Again, I had no basis for my assumptions, but I couldn’t dispute the possibility of such a thing. I, too, couldn’t find a way to put this possibility into words. 

“Are you...serious? About helping us...?” 

“Of... Course. I am serious. You should also... Not do anything rash. Think about your brother. If there is even... A flicker of hope. Then struggle... Fight back. That is all... I want to say.” 

With that, I turned around, walking back into the cottage once more. I had no way of knowing how Amiris would take my words, so this all could have been for naught. Just as I stepped through the doors, however... 

“Thank you... Thank you very much...” 

And those were the last words I heard that night. 

“Quite... A depressing atmosphere. This village.” 

I set out for a sightseeing trip the very next morning, intending to take in the sights of Todds Village. As the festival was the day after this one, I found myself with some free time on my hands. 

The village itself, while bustling with activity, didn’t exactly seem like a happy place, if the villagers’ expressions were anything to go by. It was a reasonable reaction, I suppose, given that a previously benign festival had now become a death sentence for the sacrifice involved. If there was anyone who was happy about being sacrificed, it would be quite a sight to behold. 

“It’s not as if we have a choice. No one in the village wants a festival like this.” 

Turning around, I was greeted with the sight of Amiris. 

“...I see you have... Changed your tone. Quite a bit.” 

Amiris sighed in response. “There isn’t much point in pretending anymore, right? Big Brother was very happy this morning. You said something to cheer him up, didn’t you? Just like you said something to me. There were no traces of our home being run-through, either... So I guess you’re not going to cheat or steal from us or anything like that.” 

As expected, Ryuntus’s expressions were far too easy to read. I had no intentions of searching their home for valuables, so to think Amiris was this suspicious of me... It was truly saddening. But then again, this was how adventurers were normally regarded. 

Though, there was now the fact that Amiris behaved around me in a notably different way after our previous conversation. If nothing else, I should be grateful for that. 

“I will thank you for... Trusting me.” 

“I don’t trust you that much... Though, I guess I trust you enough. But...are you really gonna do something about it?” 

“...Perhaps.” 

Amiris’s expression was as unreadable as my response was vague. 

“...Then...I won’t expect much out of you. But if you can really do something...then I’ll fight, too. Is that acceptable...?” 

A satisfying response. 

“...Yes. That is... Acceptable. By the way... There seems to be quite... A lot of. Outsiders. In this crowd...” 

With the conversation brought back to more mundane matters, Amiris’s expression softened, eventually returning to a more normal state. 

“Yes. The villagers are more generous with their expenditures during the festival... Most of the outsiders are probably traveling merchants. It’s a small village, but not necessarily a poor one...” 

“...I see. Is that man over there... One of those traveling merchants?” I asked, pointing to a man seated on the ground with a mat. 

A textile merchant of sorts, bales of cloth were neatly stacked before him. What caught my eye, however, was his physique. The man was more built than the average individual. I supposed being a traveling merchant was more physically demanding than I thought. 

“Yes, he is a traveling merchant that visits often.” Amiris offered a quick answer to my question. “His wares are a great help, and he even visits the village when no festivals are being held.” 

“Is that right...?” 

One occasionally hears of good-hearted merchants like him in rural villages. The merchants weren’t necessarily saints; it was sometimes a symbiotic relationship. In return for their wares, villagers would sell the merchant their harvested crops at cheaper prices. In that sense, I suppose both parties profited off each other. 

Amiris continued guiding me through the village. According to her, the atmosphere in this village was nowhere near this brooding in the past. It only became this way after a sacrificial villager lost their life in what was supposed to be a harmless ceremony. From what I was told, the villagers were more than eager to put an end to the practice, but they feared reprisal from the Kelpies or the Lord of the Lake itself. All they could do, then, was continue the so-called tradition. 

Quite the burden this village was carrying, but maybe they truly had little choice in the matter. After all, if this village had as much military might as Maalt, the Lord could easily be defeated, and the tradition ended permanently. 

For such a small village, however... That didn’t seem to be a valid option. This was precisely why I wanted to do something about the problem at hand. 

The festival was beginning. Crowds gathered by the side of the lake, with many of the people holding candles. The crowds were looking in the direction of a few whimsically decorated boats, adorned with a fair number of glittering trinkets. 

On this day, a young girl would sail to the center of the lake on one of those boats, becoming a sacrifice to the Lord of the Lake. The villagers naturally felt their fair share of guilt. 

Reality was stark, however: should a sacrifice not be provided, the village would come under attack, either from the Lord or the Kelpies under its command. All the villagers could do was close their eyes and apologize. This was probably their only course of action. What else were a few villagers from a rural village to do? 

Amiris, who was due to ride on one of the boats on this very night, stood a short distance away from the decorated boats on the lakeside. Dressed in robes woven from glittering fabric, the bright colors cut a sharp contrast to the ceremonial makeup on her face. She was undeniably beautiful. 

She was to board the boats with her escorts, before setting off toward her final destination. 

Standing around her were two figures, watching over her. Originally, there should have been three—at least, that was what those familiar with the festival would think. The role of a Sacrificial Escort, however, was decidedly a supporting one. Originally, any number of escorts was acceptable. Most villagers were usually selected for the role against their will. 

“It still seems a little risky, this entire business... Will we be found out?” Ryuntus, one of the escorts, said. 

“No guarantees, Big Brother... People usually only look at the sacrificial maiden during festivals anyway... It’s probably fine,” said Amiris, the sacrifice in question. 

“...You two are... More relaxed. Than I thought you... Would be,” I said to the pair. 

“Only because you’re here, Rentt! I’m counting on you!” 

“Exactly. Although...I probably won’t expect much out of you.” 

In some ways very similar, yet very different in others. What a strange pair of siblings. 

Thankfully, the festival’s proceedings went on without much issue, with Amiris herself stepping toward the boats as the village elder blessed her with the appropriate rites. 

“Let’s go, Rentt...” 

I followed closely after Ryuntus. Although he provided a detailed explanation of the ceremony, I left most of the complicated steps to him, copying his actions where I could. Fortunately, our party seemed to have escaped close scrutiny, with Ryuntus, myself, and Amiris successfully boarding the boats and sailing out toward the center of the lake. 

Although several villagers regarded our smaller than usual number of escorts with strange gazes, no one in particular raised any complaints. I suppose they, too, were mentally exhausted from this entire business of sacrificing one of their own on a regular basis, and were unable to say much more in protest. 

After some time, our small fleet reached its destination. We were well out of sight from the villagers, having sailed a long distance from the shore. 

“Is this... All right?” 

“Yes, I think so.” Amiris was quick to respond. “This is the middle of the lake, after all... And the Orb is glowing. This is definitely the place.” 

Amiris held up her palm; in it was a crystalline ball of some kind, apparently a mystic artifact passed down by the village. It had the ability to glow when brought to the center of the lake. 

It was by no means a complicated object. Even Lorraine would most likely regard it as a silly trinket. To the villagers, however, it appeared to be a valuable treasure, one that was essential for the festival. 

“Originally, the escorts weren’t supposed to guard the sacrifice at all... Their role was to retrieve this Orb, then leave the sacrifice behind...” 

Ryuntus’s explanation made some degree of sense. If I had to infer, the original condition of having three escorts in the fleet was to ensure that no single person absconded with the treasure. 

In any case, we reached our destination. 

“...So. The Lord of the Lake... Will appear here?” 

“According to the legends, it—” 

Just as Ryuntus attempted to answer my question, the previously still surface of the lake was disrupted by a series of unnaturally rough waves. 

“Something’s coming...!” 

Panicking, Ryuntus squatted down in his boat. “...Hold on... You’re... You’re joking, right...?” he whispered under his breath, staring at the monster before him. 

But I understood why he said such a thing. The Lord of the Lake that appeared before us was none other than a Kraken—the very same kind of Kraken that, under normal circumstances, could only live in the wide, open seas. 

“Ugh...! What... What is this?! How can we defeat it? How’d it even get in this freshwater lake...?!” Amiris shouted, her boat rocking violently in the waves. 

While I felt the same way, I couldn’t falter. Adventurers didn’t give up. 

Turning to Amiris, I proceeded to issue my instructions: “Amiris... You switch. To Ryuntus’s boat.” 

“Are... Are you serious?! You’re going to fight...against that?!” 

An incredulous expression; I expected no less. Any typical person would question my sanity. Yet I have stood face-to-face with a Dragon in the past. Was there anything greater to fear? 

Back then, all I could think of was escaping. Now, however... 

“Quickly, now. Amiris. Switch... Boats.” 

I jumped off my boat, running along the water’s surface. Grabbing Amiris off her sacrificial craft, I threw her into Ryuntus’s boat, readying myself for the battle to come. 

“Ehhh?!” A simultaneous reaction from the sister who was thrown, and the brother who caught her. 

I, however, didn’t turn around. Instead, I drew my sword, facing the direction of the Kraken. I braced myself, getting into a combat stance as I held up my blade. 

One may question why I was standing on the water. See, I had asked Lorraine to craft such a magical tool for me before I journeyed here. It turned out, however, that she had something fit for the purpose all along. 

Lorraine, who was interested in the festival, had wanted to come along, but she was unable to do so as she had to compile some documents for a client. Upon hearing that my destination this time was a lake of sorts, however, Lorraine merely handed the relevant magical tool to me, and that was that. As expected of Lorraine—alchemists were great friends to have. 

“Rentt! Don’t do anything crazy! If... If it’s impossible, I’ll just give up and become a sacrifice, so...!” 

I was grateful for Amiris’s concerns, but I couldn’t concede to her sorrowful wails, not after coming all this way. 

Tightening my grip, I slammed my foot onto the water’s surface, propelling myself, blade and all, into the Kraken’s grasp. 

It was...large. A fact I was made to understand as I approached the Kraken. Its body and tentacles were covered in slime, and if I had to guess, it was at least ten meters in length. 

Compared to the variants that inhabited the high seas, however, this one was on the smaller side of the spectrum. According to what I had learned from some books, oceanic Krakens were capable of folding gigantic ships and vessels in two with a single strike, and were typically 30 to 50 meters long. That should have been their normal size. 

This one was smaller—a lot smaller. 

A flurry of incoming tentacles jolted me out of my thoughts. The Kraken saw and now sought to crush me. 

Given the number of tentacles, it was quite the task to dodge each and every one of them. They weren’t impossible to dodge, however. Thanks to Lorraine’s specially-manufactured water-stepping boots, I found myself able to move easily, treading atop the water’s surface as if it were solid ground. 

Without warning, the Kraken opened its mouth, apparently intending to launch something at me. Quickly stomping on the lake’s surface, I dodged to the side, only to see that I had narrowly avoided a large fireball, the projectile causing steam to rise up from where I was just standing. 

“A Kraken... Spitting Fire?” 

A strange combination. 

Laughing at the absurdity of the situation, I propelled myself forward once more, finally closing in upon my target. With a mighty leap, I brought my sword over my head, slicing down on a tentacle with a savage horizontal slash. 

As I did so— 

Riiip!!! 

This was hardly the sound an invertebrate would make when cut. 

“Wh... What?! What is this? The Kraken...!” 

I could hear Amiris’s voice over the waves; she seemed surprised. 

“Why...?” Even Ryuntus had something to say. 

I supposed they would feel that way. The Kraken I swung my blade through promptly disappeared. In its place remained a large piece of cloth, and a wooden vessel several times larger than the sacrificial boats we had used. This vessel was crewed by a few men. 

This was no Kraken. 

“You bastard! Don’t mess with us! Kill him! KILL HIM!!!” 

Pointing at me, the men shouted animatedly before sending a number of arrows and magical attacks in my general direction. 

They were far from skilled. Easily avoiding the incoming attacks, I launched myself into the air once more, landing on their vessel with a single leap. In a series of familiar motions, I knocked out the men one by one, eventually sheathing my sword. 

“So... What...? What is...all this?” Amiris asked, still visibly confused. 

“These are the... People. Who have been... Making unreasonable demands. Of the village. Also, Amiris... Isn’t this man familiar... To you?” I asked, pointing toward one of the now-subdued men. 

Finally noticing, Amiris gasped in surprise. “The... The traveling merchant!” 

“That is correct.” 

“But...why?” 

Ryuntus and Amiris stood staring at me, unable to believe their eyes. In response, I gave the restrained merchant a good kick in the side with Lorraine’s specially-manufactured water-stepping boots. 

“Answer... Her.” 

Slowly, and somewhat unwillingly, the traveling merchant began talking. 

According to him, the merchants had caught wind of the festival, and before long decided to profit off it. Their methodology was simple: they would pretend to be the Lord of the Lake and kidnap whatever sacrifice was offered, before selling her off as a slave or commodity. To this end, the men had a mage cooperating with them, as well as a merchant who was familiar with underground slave trade routes. Although they were originally just a traveling merchant and his escort, they were overcome by greed, and they had decided to exploit the people of this village. 

The vessel itself was a simple fishing boat borrowed from another village on the lake. 

The marks on the doors were also left by the men in question, not Kelpies. Due to the collective fear that had fallen over the villagers, no one came to realize this fact. 

Quite an intricate enterprise... 

The illusion of the Kraken was just an image projected onto the cloth by the mage. The tentacles, too, were nothing more than ropes controlled and moved by magic. It goes without saying that the fireball from the Kraken’s beak was nothing more than a regular fireball, a measure taken to deal with the escorts who accompanied the unfortunate sacrifices. This was apparently the first time the fireball failed to work. Of course, the entire image of a Kraken spewing fire was laughable at best. 

Although these men had planned their evil deeds with considerable effort, they clearly weren’t strong enough to stand up to anyone who had more strength than a frightened villager. 

“Then...what of the girls who have been ‘eaten’ up until now...?” 

The merchant answered Ryuntus’s question truthfully: it would seem that they were all in the ship’s hold. While they had been kidnapping girls for the past two or so odd months, they only intended to make a sale once they reached a certain number, much to the fortune of the now-rescued girls. 

“Rentt... Did you know...? From the start?” Amiris asked. 

“Well... It was suspicious... To some degree. In my personal... Experience. The true Lord of a place... Would never suddenly decide... To become unruly or... Unreasonable. Also... When we passed by... This traveling merchant... In the village. I noticed... The smell. Of blood.” 

This was very much in accordance with the fact that I was an Undead who subsisted on blood—not that I could explain it to Ryuntus and Amiris. 

In any case... 

“With this... The mystery. Is solved... I take it the request... Has been fulfilled. Adequately?” 

“Of course!” “Yes!!” 

The siblings’ responses were almost simultaneous. 

Finding the merchant’s explanation satisfactory, we set sail for Todds Village, only to be greeted by a predictably large uproar. Amiris, who was supposed to have been sacrificed, was alive. With her were the kidnapped girls, and the traveling merchants, bound from head to toe. 

Upon explaining that we uncovered the truth behind the recent incidents, the villagers thanked me profusely, and even offered to report the incident to the guild so that I may be recognized for my efforts. 

I politely declined. 

On the surface, I claimed this was due to the nature of the request, that it wasn’t accepted through formal guild channels and as such, wasn’t something I could take credit for. In reality, I just didn’t want to be connected to this kidnapping incident. If word got out that I busted up a kidnapping slaver ring, it would only serve to place more suspicion on me. Even if I did resolve the incident in question, I could easily be suspected of “solving” a problem I was “responsible for” in the first place. 

I was suspicious-looking, though there was little I could do about that. In any case, I decided to not do anything unnecessary. The villagers, convinced I was just being modest, were quite against this at first, but I have Ryuntus and Amiris to thank for convincing them otherwise. The siblings thanked me profusely, but maybe I was the one who should be thanking them instead. 

The villagers suggested for the festival to be redone, if only to properly express their gratitude to the Lord of the Lake. It would be a much simpler affair, with no more sacrifices like Amiris floating out into the depths of the lake. Despite its simplicity, the atmosphere in Todds Village was now markedly different; no longer sullen, but instead bright and full of hope. If memory served, this was how the festival was supposed to be in the first place. 

In the midst of the celebrating villagers, a small speck on the far corner of the lake caught my attention. A translucent maiden on the back of a Kelpie... The true Lord of the Lake, or possibly an elaborate illusion of the light. In an instant, they were gone, with silence once again returning to the lake’s surface. 

“You’re leaving... Honestly, you should stay a bit longer...” Amiris said as she stood before the horse carriage. 

“That’s right... And the festival has been extended, too!” Ryuntus continued. 

I just shook my head. “I am... An adventurer. Much work remains... To be done.” 

Due to the fact that my little excursion to the lake didn’t count as an official job, I found myself facing down a few administrative deadlines. The guild wouldn’t have many good things to say about a Bronze-class adventurer who didn’t do meaningful work, and this meant a quick trip back to Maalt was in order. 

“How is it that you do good work, but you don’t want to be credited for it? It’s just...strange.” 

“Is... That right? Things like this are... Not as rare. As they seem to be. In any... Case. I will be going now.” I placed a hand on the carriage’s door handle. 

“Rentt...!” 

I turned around at the mention of my name, and without warning, Amiris flew into me, her lips pecking the side of my face... 

Or, should I say, my mask. 

“Wha—Amiris...?” 

I could hear Ryuntus’s quivering voice. 

“What? It’s a gesture of thanks, okay?!” Amiris said, her face a deep shade of red. 

A warm little exchange, indeed. 

“A little... Surprising. But thank you, Amiris. A kind... Gesture. If you ever find... Yourself. In Maalt, do visit... Me. I will be your guide, then...” 

“Okay...!” 

“You take care... Too. Ryuntus.” 

“Yeah. Thank you so much, Rentt... I’ll definitely visit the next time I’m in Maalt...!” 

Nodding, I waved at them, finally boarding the horse carriage. Its destination was none other than the township of Maalt. 

For some reason, it almost felt like a lifetime had passed since I stepped through its gates... 

“Wait, don’t tell me, Rentt. You went all that way to charm the heart of a little girl?” 

A dinner with Lorraine was in order after my long departure from Maalt. Lorraine’s words, however, nearly made me spit out my meal. 

“...Do not be... Silly. Lorraine. Nothing of... The sort.” 

“A joke, Rentt. But you see, that girl definitely...” 

I knew what Lorraine was about to say, so I stopped her mid-sentence. 

“She will forget. About someone... Like me. Soon enough.” 

Such was life for a wandering traveler. 

The girls of rural villages had their own brand of happiness, as they would one day find a suitable partner in their village, get married, and most likely have children. The very picture of a rural villager’s joy. 

Needless to say, from the very beginning there was no place in such a happy picture for the likes of me. 

Lorraine sighed, gesturing at me with her utensil as she spoke. 

“You, Rentt...should be punished gravely for your sins.” 

It was regrettable, to say the least. Truly regrettable, but... 

This was just how things were. 

I would still offer them a guided tour of Maalt should those siblings ever visit; it was the least I could do.