Part 2 Chapter 43

Part 2 Episode 43

 

Did the mention of the cake remind the man of the lovable mountain-like bandit maid’s sturdiness? His expression paled.

The woman looked like she couldn’t believe what I was saying.

“I heard he truly returned alive this time, but for this to be the case… Is Sir Andert Fager really part of the Gray Spear Guild?”

“That’s not the case.”

“…Then I can’t believe it!”

This guy again.

“You’re dispatching someone who isn’t even part of the guild? Hmph, anyone can make empty claims! I’ve dealt with plenty of people like you. Just because we’re from the republic doesn’t mean we’ll take your word for it…”

I threatened him while viciously slicing the chiffon cake with my fork.

“So what if you don’t believe me?”

“That’s…”

“What can you do about it?”

“W-we are the representatives for the Penrotta branch for this mission! We came to verify with our own eyes whether your guild could actually participate! Without our approval, you can’t cross the Wall of Fire!”

“Is that so? Then grant us permission.”

The man shot a look at the assassin-butler this time instead of me, clearly saying with his eyes that such a thing was not possible. But he had picked the wrong person to ask too.

“You’re asking for permission, then.”

The assassin-butler was cursed, so he could not cross the wall of fire at all.

Thus began a fierce back-and-forth between the Legion official and the assassin-butler.

This is why being overly suspicious was exhausting.

Even if I offered a proven powerhouse like Andert Fager—who was a veteran of the Magic War (and clearly someone they recognized)—they still wouldn’t believe it without raising their questions.

Well, I’d leave the convincing to the butler assassin.

‘Should I prepare supplies for the journey?’

With that thought, I headed to the market with my traveling veteran (or rather, veteran by age), Rue.

As we strolled leisurely with our arms linked, Rue casually remarked,

“If you go with the identity of Andert Fager, things will get even more troublesome, Daisy.”

“I can’t help it. For the time being, I plan to alternate between my identity between Andert and Daisy.”

The name Andert Fager was very famous (more so than necessary), and that came with its perks. However, the more famous you are, the more obstacles there are to acting in secrecy, so I intended to operate as Daisy for more personal matters.

“Lord Weatherwoods!”

As soon as I stepped into the market entrance, merchants who recognized my face gathered around me.

“Whoa! Look who it is! Our Viscount! Where on earth have you been for four years? We’ve been so worried! You seem just like before!”

Indeed, not aging had its perks too.

“I’ve been busy. Everything alright in the neighborhood?”

“Oh what do you mean you were busy? Just look at the Weatherwoods estate—it’s been bought out. It’s been replaced by some eyesore. Oh, our poor Midwinterre.”

“Oh dear, oh dear. What are we going to do now that the lord’s home is gone? Should we pool together and set up a tent or something?”

It was still my house, though. But I decided to keep that to myself.

Just then, a nearby fruit vendor leaned in and whispered in my ear,

“Don’t worry, my lord. We know it’s just a facade put up by the Calamity Rein or whatever. The secret is safe with us.”

They all know. Truly, the merchants of Midwinterre were the best secret weapons for information…

The merchants seemed as worried as they were glad to see me as we greeted each other.

“I hear things have gotten rough again in the world lately. Is Midwinterre going to be okay?”

“Don’t worry. Nothing will happen in this city.”

“Did you hear, my lord? The Emperor’s Sword went past this street! I thought I was seeing a ghost at the time, but the papers say he really has returned!”

“Right, right! We thought it was just the calamity was trying to mess with you, so we were on guard. If I’d known, I should’ve gotten an autograph! Make sure to get one when you meet him later! They say it’ll be worth a lot.”

Worth a lot? If I need travel funds later, I should consider mass-producing those.

Anyway, I bought a sturdy bag, leather gloves, and a water bottle to prepare for my new journey.

Rue stood a step back, watching me among the merchants rather than helping, which made me

think of what he had said about “desiring to enjoy the performance from the front row of a grand theater.”

“Come on, have some of this before you go. It’s fresh from yesterday.”

I chewed on the jelly filling my mouth and replied,

“I already had something.”

“Where’s that blue-haired lover of yours? Did you come alone?”

“He’s just resting at home.”

“Ah, I see. Then who is this pretty young lady? A new maid?”

“She’s…”

Gulp.

I swallowed the jelly and stared at Rue.

That relaxed gaze of his.

But I knew. Rue was subtly expecting my answer, pretending otherwise… as he always did.

“This is…”

Well, if he was expecting it, I might as well give him the answer he wants.

“This woman… she’s not my woman, but she’s none other than the woman of Andert Fager himself! Information guaranteed by the Swordmaster, Jurian Berkeley Gratten himself.”

“What?!”

The hero who just returned not long ago? The woman of the Emperor’s Sword? Amid the murmurs and stirred atmosphere, I declared boldly:

“It’s the truth, so go ahead and spread the word all you like!”

When I glanced back at Rue, I saw a satisfied smile on his face. He’s so easy to read sometimes, just like a kid.

Holding the newly bought supplies in my arms, I walked over to him.

“I think I’ve bought enough to live on. I focused on things I wanted to have while we were climbing Mount Aragald. This should do, right?”

Rue nodded gently with a gracious expression.

“Yeah, Daisy. With this much, you’ll be fine not just for the journey but even starting a new life out in the middle of nowhere. You could even pass for a peddler.”

Feeling proud, I headed back to headquarters.

But perhaps something had happened while I was away?

In front of the headquarters, armed individuals had set up a blockade.

“Hmph!”

A Legion official scoffed loudly at the entrance, sneering as he shouted,

“Did you think we’d come unprepared with nothing but the clothes on our backs? We’ve brought the mercenary guild! Detaining and oppressing us recklessly is nothing short of a challenge to the Legion itself!”

From a second-floor window, the assassin-butler stuck his head out and clicked his tongue.

“Ungrateful wretches. They demanded water, so we gave them warm black tea and cake—and this is how they repay us. Overturning everything and making a scene.”

Ah. It seems the negotiations didn’t go well.

“W–what? Don’t spout such misunderstandings! Isn’t this all your fault? Spreading nonsense about how Andert Fager is being dispatched beyond the Wall of Fire on behalf of Gray Spear…!”

Just then.

A massive carriage suddenly rushed through the tightly packed crowd and came to a halt right before us.

The moment everyone’s eyes turned toward the carriage—the firmly shut door slowly opened.

Creak—

For some reason, the noise felt particularly eerie to my ears.

Then, two men stepped out from inside the carriage, one after the other. The first to descend, holding an elegant box in his arms, was…

“It’s been a while, Viscount Weatherwoods. How relieved I am that you look just fine considering the fact that you didn’t contact me at all.”

Desherro.

And the man behind him, with a larger head than him… was Raphael.

‘Raphael’s here. You’re screwed.’

The sudden appearance of such an unexpected heavyweight plunged the area of commotion into silence.

Raphael’s lofty crimson eyes swept across the crowd before finally settling on the Legion official standing at the forefront.

Then, in dreary voice, he demanded an answer:

“Who… is being dispatched where?”

—

Daisy the first victim of consumerism in midwinterre