Part 2 Chapter 42

Part 2 Episode 42

The assassin-butler was supposed to come here shortly after concluding his conversation with the Swordmaster, so the Legion officials were first escorted to a drawing room near the office.

“People kept raving about how impressive this place was, so I had high expectations… But it’s far inferior to the Shinma Union Guild. Not even a glass of water for guests…?”

That’s when it happened.

No sooner had they settled into the reception room than the mountain bandit maid—somehow already aware of their presence—stomped up the stairs, thud, thud, and served a tray piled with colorful pastries, cakes, and herbal tea.

Bang!

When he slammed down the teapot with arms even thicker than Deschamps’ body, steaming hot water spilled a little like a fountain from the spout.

The man froze stiff, utterly speechless.

“Here, help yourself. That cakes made with my blood and sweat.”

“Uh… th-thank you.”

“Hey, pretty boy. Leave any leftovers, and you die. Understood?”

“….”

“See this fist? This is what pounded the dough. Leave a crumb, and I’ll turn you into… chewy bread.”

As the bandit maid gently stroked his boulder-sized fist, the man could only sit there, sweating coldly with a face that seemed unable to neither laugh or cry.

I left them behind and greeted the bandit maid.

“You look healthy. Been keeping busy?”

“Of course, Master. Just say the word if snacks run short. You’ve always had a bottomless appetite.”

“How is the rest of the household?”

“Well, there’s been some trouble… But everyone trusts you’ll handle it.”

“And Lenya?”

“She’s on the dawn shift so she’s sleeping. But I can wake her if you want.”

“No, leave her be. This won’t take long anyway.”

“Glad to hear it.”

The mountain bandit maid wiped his scalded hands (from when he spilled tea on them) on his apron and exited the reception room.

“So, what’s this ‘party’ you were talking about?”

Perhaps still rattled by the bandit maid’s warning, the woman who was shoveling cake into her mouth lifted her head with cream still smeared on her lips.

“Ah. Should I repeat that? The Gray Spear Guild and the Sword-Demon’s party…”

“No, I mean—what does ‘party’ even mean here? I know what a guild is, but I haven’t a clue about what a party actually means.”

The woman eyes’ looked suspicious of the fact that I, a member of the Gray Spear Guild, didn’t know the term ‘party’, but still kindly explained:

“Hmm. A ‘party’ is, well… simply put, a group of elites capable of crossing the Wall of Fire. In Penrottan terms, you could call it a special forces unit?”

“Wall of Fire?”

Her eyes swept the room until they landed on a map hung on one wall. She stood up with a brightened face as if glad for the help.

“Yes—it’s marked here. See this red line on the map?”

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“This line is the Wall of Fire. Ordinary folk can’t set foot in the land barricaded by these flames of death.”

The territory encircled by the Wall wasn’t far from the Garbage Hill—and stretched larger than I’d expected.

“Rein and his followers claimed the land inside the Wall as their domain, building their own fortress-stronghold. The flames are essentially the shield of their stronghold.”

“But there seem to be several cities inside, though.”

“Correct. It’s no abandoned wasteland. Even in this zone, there are residential zones, factories, so many places where people are living normally… Centibon here, for example, is the third largest city in the Republic of Contaninos.”

“Then they’re able to provide for themselves within those walls of fire?”

“It’s hard to be self-sufficient to that extent. That’s why they need us—the Gray Spear!”

Back on the sofa, the woman scooped a fistful of leftover cake into her mouth.

“The Wall vanishes once every six months—ugh—and only in specific sectors for a limited time. Our union uses that window to smuggle supplies inside the stronghold. Mmf—this cake’s divine!”

“…….”

“This arrangement itself was hard won by a pact between the Calamity Rein and the Legion. It’s perilous work, so only top-tier guilds like ours get contracts. Competition’s brutal.”

“Chew slowly.”

“Mhm!”

Alright, I think I get the gist now.

‘So our guild got picked as the support guild for that Sword-Demon’s party, huh?’

Judging by the context, our role seemed to be either path-clearers for the party to cross the Wall of Fire or protectors of their supplies.

Stepping into a land ruled by a Demigod like Rein…

It was definitely dangerous work.

‘But there’s competition for a task like this? Surprising.’

I asked, just in case:

“Does the pay make it worth the risk?”

“No. They only cover travel and meals.”

“Dangerous, no pay, yet it’s competitive? Why?”

The woman faltered, lowering her fork.

“Well… There’s a reason, but it’s kind of… awkward to explain—”

That’s when it happened.

Bam!

The man that had been sitting there slammed the table, rising to his feet, crimson-faced as he jabbed a finger at me.

“I’ve had enough of this! You think we came here to waste time on this useless conversation?!”

“S-senior! Calm down…!”

Despite the woman’s attempts to dissuade him, the man seemed no signs of cooling. He panted heavily, voice rising to a shout.

“Listen here, Gray Spear lackey! Do you have any idea how coveted this mission is? Why? Sure, some guilds sign up out of goodwill. But the real prize is elsewhere! To enlist with some of the world’s best heroes—like the Sword Demon!”

“….”

“Their own ulterior motives? None of our concern. Fine. Let them scheme! But our republic’s people… they’ve cowered in terror beyond that Wall for four years!”

“Senior, please—”

“I don’t want to spend a second more wasting time. We’re here to meet Grayspear. Bring him here! Now.”

Although the man’s attitude was rotten, his frustration wasn’t entirely unfounded.

Sure, I’d only been asking questions I didn’t know, but to the republic, this was life or death.

Just then, the assassin-butler entered the drawing room

“Apologies for the delay, Master. I heard some guests from the legion are here… Ah, these two?”

“Yes.”

The man’s flushed face lit up at the sight of the assassin-butler.

“Finally, someone who I can talk to—”

“Danahan. I hear you need two people to enter the Wall of Fire with the Sword-Demon’s party. If we go, we might be able to meet the sword demon, right?”

“Yes. I was going to send Old Malcolm, but would you like to go yourself?”.

I gave a slight nod.

“Since our routes align, I’ll go. With…”

The Sword Master, obviously.

Given that protecting me was mandated by imperial decree, he’d cling to my side even if the world turned upside down.

But which alias did he register under again?

Damn. Only the most absurd one came to mind.

“With… the Handsome Swordsman…”

“Understood. Listen, Legion officials—we’ll deploy our new Guild Master here and the rookie member, the Handsome Swordsman, for this mission.”

“What? This woman is your new Guild Master?!”

The man stared at me incredulously before his outrage boiled over.

“You—what mockery is this?! You’ll spend some nobody, not even Gray Spear himself, beyond the wall? Unacceptable! I’ll never permit this recklessness!”

Hmm.

His fury wasn’t entirely baseless.

Had this been the Penrotta Empire or Northern Continent Union Church State, we’d have leveraged some important contacts to be able to join. But the Containinos Republic? I didn’t know anyone like that there.

“Then, would Andert Farger suffice instead?”

“…Excuse me?”

The woman, mid-bite into her second cake, blinked dazedly.

“Did you just say…?”

I turned to the man, now equally stunned.

“Fine then, we’ll send Andert Farger as a compromise.”

“That’s—preposterous—”

“You’re not leaving this house until you finish that cake, by the way.”

—

Hiii guys! It’s been so long since I was able to last post a chapter, but here I am again! To be honest, I didn’t wanna lock these last few chapters, but a girl’s gotta eat (I realised just ice cream for the weekend as a replacement meal isn’t sustainable so oops… I’ll try to post more chapters asap tho and unlock these past few ones!!!)

With love,

Ami!