The Half-Elf Weapon Master Boy

"I'm sure it's been rough, but keep your chin up."

"Thank you, sir."

Al lowered his head as the customer left. The boy was sitting at the counter, watching

Red's shop. This past week, both Rit and Red had been out of the store a lot.

Normally, they would make a point of juggling schedules so at least one of them was

always around, but neither was present today, leaving Al to watch the shop.

He didn't know very much about medicines, so Rit and Red had arranged a setup

where if he got questions about what drug would be best, he would just note down

the symptoms the customer was having, and then Red would deliver the substance in

question at a later time. While not exactly an endless stream of customers, far more

people stopped by than Al had expected, and he struggled a bit with finding the

medicines they all wanted.

"One vial of white berry paste, please."

"R-right away!"

There were some customers who would just point to a curative on the display and say

they wanted that, but there were also those who just casually asked for a medicine by

name. The shelves were labeled of course, but Al still felt pressured for having the

customer wait while he searched for the right name.

"Ummm, ah, here it is. One vial of white berry paste."

With a little sigh of relief when he finally found it, Al passed the concoction to the

customer with a smile.

"That will be two payril!" he said.

The man who looked like a mage placed eight quarter-payril coins on the counter. "The

guards didn't do anything to you, did they?" he asked in a low whisper.

"Eh?"

The man was short, and his clothes were stained. On his back was a long, thin cloth

bag. He seemed familiar, and Al wondered if he'd seen him in Southmarsh before.

"The guards hate us folks from Southmarsh. They've got no intention of trying to catch

the criminal or anything. I'm sure they'd rather just arrest you and try to sweep it all

under the rug by calling you all liars."

Al recalled the talk he'd had with the captain of the guard. Ademi's father had

apologized, but…

"If anything ever happens, you can always count on Mr. Bighawk. He's merciless with

his enemies, but he watches out for Southmarsh folks like us. Your parents are staying

with him, you know."

"…My father told me to stay here."

"I can understand that. The guards are always itching for a chance to put good folks

like you, me, and Mr. Bighawk in our place. I'm sure he thinks it would be safer for you

to keep away."

The patron leaned over the counter and grabbed Al's shoulder. Instinctively, the boy

tensed up.

"Your old man's too naive, though, kid. The guards are after you. They're even watching

this shop."

"There's no way…"

"How can you be so sure of that? As far as those damn guards are concerned, the best

way to clear this up is pinning everything on you."

"…"

The man's grip tightened, and a jolt of pain shot through Al's shoulder.

"Oops, sorry, sorry. I wasn't tryin' to scare you. I'm just concerned about you is all."

With a chuckle, the gruff customer's lips twisted a bit. He patted Al's shoulder to

reassure the boy and then stepped back.

"Anyway, Mr. Bighawk's concerned about you, too. And if you ever feel worried for your

safety, or if you're tired of letting them do whatever they want, feel free to come to his

mansion. You know the place, right?"

"I do live in Southmarsh, too, you know," Al shot back.

Bighawk's high-class estate amid all the dilapidated shacks in Southmarsh stuck out

like a sore thumb. There was no one living in Southmarsh who didn't know who

Bighawk was. He was the number two man of the Thieves Guild and boss of

Southmarsh. Everyone who lived there gave up a small portion of their income to the

man. In exchange, he policed the area, as the guards often avoided Southmarsh. That

was the public reason for what Bighawk did anyway. In truth, there were many who

were suspicious of him—Al included.

"Just tell the guys outside his place who you are. They'll let you in and give you all the

hot soup you want."

There came the sudden chime of a bell as the door was opened. It was the nurse from

Dr. Newman's clinic. She'd likely come to pick up some more medicine.

"Oops, can't disrupt the business. Sorry for rambling on like that. We'll be waiting…

Oh, I almost forgot." The shabby man placed the bag he was carrying on the counter.

"You recently awakened to your blessing, right? I heard from your pops. Weapon

Master, eh? You're really going places with a blessing like that. For Southmarsh folks,

the day you awaken to your blessing, however old you are when it happens, that's your

coming of age. It's when you graduate from the free life of a child and are recognized

as an adult who will go on to fulfill the role that God has chosen for you."

"Coming of age?" Al asked.

"This is a little parting gift for you, the rising star us guys in Southmarsh can look up

to. You're one of us, so make sure you put your power to use helping your home. Do

that, and maybe we can all manage to make it out of this terrible lot in life."

Opening the bag, Al fished out its contents: a shotel. "Th-this is…?!" Al gasped as he

saw the shine of the blade peeking from beneath the scabbard.

"It's a proper crimson steel piece. Enhanced with magic, too. Bought from a traveling

merchant from Igosu, the blade town," explained the man.

"I—I couldn't possibly accept such an expensive gift!"

Undoubtedly, the piece was valued somewhere above three thousand payril. It was the

sort of weapon a C-rank adventurer would only be able to afford after a few serious

challenges.

"It's fine, it's fine. Think of it as an offering of support for our new weapon master's

bright future. May God's blessing be with you."

With a grin, the man departed the shop before Al could push the weapon back into his

hands. After he left, the nurse from Dr. Newman's clinic approached the counter,

looking somewhat worried.

"Are you okay? Was he an acquaintance?" she asked.

"We both live in the same part of town, apparently…," Al explained.

Before too much longer, Red returned at last.

"Welcome back, Mr. Red," Al said in greeting.

"Whew, thanks," Red replied.

"What about Miss Rit?"

"She won't make it back until a little later."

Al looked disappointed when he heard that. Rit teaching him swordsmanship in the

evenings was the highlight of his days now.

"Rit probably won't be able to practice with you today, huh… All right then, I'll fill in

for her."

"Spar with you?" Al was surprised at the offer.

"I don't use a shotel, so I can't teach you the intricacies of how to actually use it as Rit

can, but it'll be good for you to get some experience fighting opponents with different

weapons."

"Y-yes please."

While he accepted the offer, Al had to wonder just how useful practicing with someone

like Red was going to be. The boy's usual partner was Rit the hero. Al knew Red was

likely a bit stronger than his D rank let on, but there was no way he was as good as Rit.

Besides, he doesn't even use a shotel.

Red still wore a bronze sword at his waist. It was a cheap weapon that no one who had

any sort of standards about their equipment would've ever chosen to use. Such a blade

couldn't have cost more than five payril. The thing didn't even hold a candle to the

high-quality shotel Al had been given earlier. Such thoughts plagued Al's mind the

entire time he and Red prepared to spar.

After the two moved to the back lawn, Red picked up a broom that had been left

leaning against the wall of the shop.

"Okay, let's do this," Red said.

He was wielding a broom. Even a wooden sword would've been better.

"What is it?" Red asked after noticing Al's puzzled expression.

"Um, that is… um… weapon…?"

"You've got yours at your waist."

"Not mine! Yours!"

Red grinned. "A broom's more than enough for this."

All of a sudden, Al could feel his head getting hot. He didn't really understand why he

was getting so angry, though he had a faint feeling that it was because of his blessing.

Al was a weapon master who wielded a shotel. He believed his armament to be the

best around. An opponent who thought a broom was a proper challenge was insulting.

You think you're funny?! Looking down on shotels?! Al's blessing practically formed the

notion for him. Without even waiting for the signal to start, Al dashed forward and

drew forth his weapon. Blunted though the training shotel was, a hard enough swing

from it still could've injured someone. Such a thought couldn't have been further from

Al's mind, however. He was consumed with a desire to swing his blade with everything

he could muster.

"Eh?"

Al had charged straight at Red, but by the time he realized what was happening, he

was looking up at the crimson skies of dusk. At some point, the boy had fallen over. Al

turned to Red, struggling to process what could've happened. The unexpected

surprise silenced the blessing that had been needling at his mind.

"Weapon Master is a blessing that handles fear and confusion well, but it is weak to

anger. You need to learn to control yourself first," Red explained.

"Eh? Huh?"

"All I did was trip you when you charged in headfirst without thinking."

Al hadn't seen anything like that happen. Even after Red described what'd happened,

Al still had trouble grasping the situation.

"It's true that a broom is no proper replacement for a weapon, but it has a longer reach

than a shotel. If you charge in recklessly, it's obvious the broom is going to reach you

first."

Al leaped back up.

"Ooooh," Red said, smiling as though enjoying himself.

Whatever anger had gripped Al's mind before was gone now. The feeling still smoldered

in his heart, but the half-elf boy felt more collected now. His expression relaxed as he

pointed his blade at Red.

"There you go. You're a quick learner," Red complimented.

This time, when Al carefully readied his weapon, Red also assumed a proper fighting

stance with his broom.

"Martial Art: Impact Blade!" Al shouted as he swung his sword. Energy welled up in

the blade, hardening it.

"Oh, already took a Martial Art, did you?" Red casually waved the broom, easily

deflecting Al's attack.

"Whoops."

Al had thought he'd kept enough distance between himself and his opponent, but Red

used the opening created by deflecting Al's Martial Art to close in on the boy. The tip

of the broom's handle was thrust right in front of Al's face. The young half-elf had given

up trying to count how many times that had happened already.

"I give," Al conceded.

"You should hold off on taking any more Martial Arts for now. They're flashy, but you

should only be using them after you've got a handle on the fundamentals."

"Yes, sir…"

Unable to break through Red's guard no matter what he did, Al had ended up falling

back on a special skill he'd taken, but even that hadn't gotten him anywhere.

"Okay, that should be enough for today," Red decided.

"Um…"

"Hmm? Got a question?"

"Why are you a D-rank adventurer if you're this strong?"

Rit was an astounding master for sure, but Al was surprised to learn just how powerful

Red was, too. Al was still just a fledgling amateur at best, but having actually fought

for a bit with both Red and Rit, he could tell that Red was an extraordinary fighter who

might've even been a match for Rit.

"Ahhhh, that. I guess it's because I don't think there's any reason to make a name for

myself just because I'm strong," Red answered casually.

"Huh?"

"I like the way things are right now. Running this shop with Rit, occasionally helping

kids like you find their way, lending a helping hand to anyone around me who needs

it… That sort of a life is enjoyable for me."

"B-but you could be respected by lots of people, fulfill your blessing, and become a

great hero whose name is remembered for generations… Wouldn't that be a better

life?!"

Red grinned as if there was something funny about what Al had just said.

"What happened to the kid who was so worried about his blessing? Didn't you tell me

you wished you'd been born with a Warrior blessing? I guess you're adjusting well

enough."

"Eh? Ah… I guess so." Al looked a bit shocked to realize just how much his thoughts

had changed. Somewhere along the line he'd started to want to become a hero.

"It's fine. Being a hero is certainly one way to live. Earning fame by living and dying by

the sword isn't a wrong way to be," Red stated, wistfulness plain in his tone.

"…"

"But it wasn't for me. That's all."

"The truth is, today, someone… I think it was someone connected to Bighawk… He gave

me a sword," Al suddenly confessed.

"A sword?" Red raised an eyebrow.

"A really expensive, top-quality shotel. I started thinking that with a weapon like that,

I could become a hero like Miss Rit… Now I'm not sure if that's what I really want or if

it was just something that my blessing made me think. I can't tell the difference

anymore…," Al admitted.

"I can't exactly read your mind, but you know… If you're worried about something, try

asking your sword," suggested Red.

"Asking my sword?" Al repeated, confused.

"Do you want to cut through more and more enemies, or would you prefer only to fight

in order to protect the people important to you? Ask your weapon what it wants. It's

just an idea anyway. An old friend of mine who was good with a spear mentioned it to

me once."

"…I see… Thank you very much!"

"Sure thing. Anyway, it's about time for dinner."

"Yes, sir!"

After nodding vigorously, Al cast his eyes down at the training shotel he'd been using.

"A blade is a mirror that reflects its wielder's soul. To use one is to converse with your

true self."

Back when she was still teaching the ways of spear-wielding, that was the lesson that

Theodora the Crusader taught her temple knight pupils whenever they were troubled

by the urgings of their blessings.

It was not uncommon for the ascetic lifestyle of the temple knights to conflict with the

impulses of various blessings. Theodora was usually quite stoic, but she never failed

to smile whenever she told the story of the trouble she'd had instructing a girl with a

Feral Child blessing. Both Yarandrala and I had been surprised to see that side of the

woman.

"She really put me through the wringer trying to teach her, but in the end, she became

someone I was proud to call a comrade."

I could still remember how happy Theodora had looked when she'd said that.

"A sword as a gift, huh…," I muttered to myself.

Looking into that matter seemed like a good idea.

I'd been passing the time by sipping some apple wine when Rit finally got home.

"I'm back," she said, clearly weary.

"Welcome back. It must be rough working so late," I said.

"Yeah, I'm beat." Rit staggered toward the chair across from me at first but then lunged

in my direction. She wrapped her arms around me as she sat on my lap.

"Whoa, be careful," I said reflexively.

"Ahhh, that's better," Rit cooed.

"Don't say it like you're getting into the bath or something," I chided.

"Oh, a bath would be nice, too. I forgot I said I was going to have one added," Rit said,

ignoring my comment.

"We should talk to Gonz about it after we're done investigating this stuff," I replied.

"I wonder how much it will cost." Rit rested her chin on my shoulder and went limp.

"Oh yeah, there was something I wanted you to look at," I remarked, suddenly

remembering an event from earlier.

"What?"

"Al got a shotel from someone connected to Bighawk. I looked into it a bit myself, but

to be safe, I wanted to get you to check it out, too."

"Okay, I'm pretty sure I still have enough energy to use Detect, at least."

"Thanks. It's in that bag under the table."

Rit took one of her arms off my neck and reached down to grab the sack without

getting up off my lap. Pulling the weapon out, she cast Detect to discern what manner

of magic the sword had, if any.

"A small shotel. The blade is made of crimson steel. The hilt is ebony. The pommel is

bigger than the guard. A swordsmith in the archipelago kingdom of Igosu crafted this.

Not too shabby. Seems like an expensive piece a C-rank adventurer would go for," Rit

detailed.

"What about the magic?" I asked.

"Just a basic enhancement. The blade's hardness and cutting edge have been boosted.

You could save up some money to add a new magic effect or just enhance it further.

Couldn't get much better in regards to a C ranker's first magic weapon. The problem

is…" Rit trailed off as her eyes fell on the jewel embedded in the shotel's hilt. "Yeah, no

mistaking it. This sword has had Locate cast on it."

Locate was a spell that indicated exactly where the ensorcelled thing was. While this

informed the caster on the location of the target, you could also link it with a compass

that pointed in the target's direction. It was even possible to connect the Locate spell

with a map that showed where the target was moving.

"Yeah, that's what I thought, too."

Rit and I had examined the shotel via different methods, but our conclusion was the

same.

"Locate, huh. If you were being generous, you could interpret it as wanting to be able

to come and help Al if anything happened to him," I reasoned.

"Do you really believe that?" Rit asked.

"Nope. Bighawk isn't that nice of a guy."

Rumors abounded as to how Bighawk had attained his current standing within the

Thieves Guild—and all of them involved conspicuous violence. The man certainly had

no shortage of enemies, likely because of his methods. That was why he rarely ever

left his territory in Southmarsh.

"I wonder why he would want to know where Al was…," I muttered.

Whatever Bighawk was after, he wanted it so badly that he was willing to give up an

expensive magic weapon for it.

"Oops, sorry to ramble about that when you came back tired. Did you eat something

while you were out? I made a sandwich, but if you didn't eat, I could fix a proper

dinner," I offered.

"Just the sandwich is fine," Rit answered.

"Really?… I notice you didn't say you ate already."

"Yeah, but I'd rather stay like this for now."

Something was off about Rit. Compared to how she usually was, she seemed lonely.

"What is it? Did something happen?" I inquired.

"How long will we be able to stay together like this?" Rit responded with a question of

her own.

"How long…?"

Did this mean something really had happened? There was an unease in Rit's

expression unlike anything she'd ever displayed before.

"Forever as far as I'm concerned," I replied decisively.

"Really?"

"Really. Have I ever lied to you?"

"You have!"

"Huh?"

"You said to take the left path to get to the ruins! But they were on the right path!"

Rit was talking about the time we were searching some ruins back in Loggervia.

"O-oh, that… Wait, weren't we competing to see who found the elf treasure first? Who

would ask their competition where to go?!"

"But you lied!"

Rit clung tightly to me as she repeated, "Liar, liar, pants on fire!"

With a bit of a wry smile, I hugged her back.

"Okay, okay, I admit it. I've fibbed when I had something to gain by doing it."

"I knew it!"

"But I wouldn't tell a lie if there wasn't anything in it for me."

"What do you mean?"

"I want to be together with you forever. So there's no reason for me to deceive you to

try and get away. I wasn't lying about forever."

"…Aren't you embarrassed to say that out loud?"

"I mean, yeah… It's really embarrassing."

Having calmed down, Rit kissed my neck softly. With an almost disappointed look, she

finally got up off my lap.

"If you don't mind, I think I would like to have some of your cooking," she said.

"No problem. I'll whip something up quick."

"…Thanks for everything. And, um, I want to be together with you forever, too."

"That settles it then."

Rit still seemed on edge as I headed into the kitchen.

Two hours earlier, Rit was in Southmarsh during the evening.

"Owwwww, gimme a break here!" groaned an unsavory-looking man as Rit twisted his

arm.

"You sure turned out to be a waste of time," Rit remarked.

"Catching someone with a Roof Crawler blessing like me in the middle of a town—

what kinda monster are you?!" the shady person spat.

"I'm the one asking questions here. Take out whatever you're trying to hide from me,"

Rit demanded.

"Dammit!" the man exclaimed as an audible crack came from his arm and a cold sweat

formed on his brow. The limb was liable to break if Rit applied any more pressure.

"Just so we're clear, I'm not going to break your arm—I'm going to tear it off. I don't

want you running off and healing the snapped bone."

"Wh-what?!" The suspicious man could see that Rit was dead serious. There was no

doubt her threat was genuine. If he wasn't forthcoming with the item he'd concealed,

Rit was likely to beat him to death and strip him bare in search of it. He'd lost this fight

the moment he'd been caught.

"O-okay, already."

Cautiously, the man turned over the bag of medicine he'd had concealed inside his

cloak.

"You were way too cautious. I didn't think this would take me so many days to

investigate. You really wasted my time with this," Rit said, annoyed.

"…"

"Oh? Cat got your tongue?"

The man did not respond and instead went slack-jawed and began to foam at the

mouth.

"It can't be!" Rit exclaimed. She never would've suspected someone in Zoltan of all

places to have been implanted with a Sacrificial Bomb. Such items required Advanced

Alchemy to make.

All at once, the man's body exploded with a boom, damaging the surroundings and

flinging a green liquid in every direction. Rit had tried to move to safety but hadn't

reacted in time. A bit of the goop had stuck to her arms and legs.

"An adhesive bomb!"

Such explosives made use of a sticky, birdlime-like substance. Creating adhesive

bombs required a skill available to those with Alchemist blessings.

The sticky substance on Rit's limbs would not be coming off easily. What's worse, it

was slowing her down.

I let my guard down!

Now sporting a large hole in his chest, the man collapsed.

Someone's coming!

Rit could hear the sound of something cutting through the air as three people covering

their faces with cloth appeared from the shadows. The bomb had also been intended

to signal them to move in and eliminate anyone who'd caught the man who'd exploded.

Rit struggled to move her arms in a desperate bid to draw her shotels.

It got my scabbards!

Unfortunately, the strange, gluey stuff had also landed on her swords, firmly locking

them in their sheaths. No matter how hard Rit pulled, the shotels would not come out.

"Shi—"

The three masked people leaped at Rit. Without the time needed to use her spirit

magic, Rit dived to the side.

"Gaaaah?!"

As she dodged the assailants, Rit hooked one of her feet out and caught an attacker

with a solid kick. He rolled across the ground and slammed into the wall of a plainlooking house.

"…A normal person would have died from one of my boots," Rit observed as the one

she'd sent flying shook his head lightly before standing back up.

"An Assassin blessing?… No, that's not it."

Their movements were similar to an assassin's, but there was something slightly off

about them.

Did they gain new blessings from False Prophet? But they're not using axes.

Rit looked down at a wound on her right arm. At the same time she'd kicked, one of

her foes had scratched her with his weapon. While not a serious injury, it did mean

that whoever these three were, they were good enough to actually land a hit on Rit.

I could get out of this pretty easily if I could only draw my swords…

If Rit found a moment to use her spirit magic, she knew she'd be able to clear herself

of the adhesive. Her opponents were unlikely to grant her the time to do so, however.

If they were adventurers, they'd probably be on the lower side of B rank. Are they

stronger than Albert?

Rit gritted her teeth, cursing herself for allowing her weapons to be neutralized so.

If they were using swords, I could take one of theirs, but…

The three assailants wielded claw gauntlets—three metal claws attached to a gauntlet

worn over their hands. Stealing one away was difficult enough, but even if Rit did

manage it, she was unfamiliar with that sort of equipment.

Hurriedly, Rit pulled a throwing knife from her cloak. It was intended to be used as a

long-range weapon, but it was her only option at the moment. The masked men

grinned, sensing that they had the upper hand.

Suddenly, a large shadow leaped above Rit's attackers.

"Ugh?!"

A fist slammed down, shattering a skull. The recipient of the attack collapsed to the

ground, dead from a single strike.

"I thought I saw a bunch of thugs ganging up on a single woman," said the newest

addition to the battle. He was a large man who held out his blood-covered fist

menacingly. Stunned, Rit had to blink a few times to make sure she wasn't seeing things.

That's not possible! Why is he here?! Rit screamed to herself.

"Danan!" she exclaimed aloud.

"Hey, Rit. Never would've guessed we'd meet again in a place like this. But let's save

the catching up for once we're done with them."

The two remaining assaulters did not seem pleased to see that their quarry now had

a powerful ally.

"…Who do you think you are?!" one of them shouted, indignant. Before the assailants

could utter another word, however, they were promptly pummeled to death by

Danan's fists. What remained of them was little more than lumps of flesh, blood, and

bone.

"O spirit of water, cleanse my body."

As Rit focused and performed the necessary signs, a water spirit in the form of a fish

without scales appeared and washed away the adhesive clinging to her, the wound on

her right arm, and the bloodstains. While Rit's body was now clean, her mind was still

clouded.

"What are you doing here, Danan?" Rit asked.

"I could ask you the same question, but whatever. It's him. The Hero sent me to go

looking for Gideon."

The words brought a twinge of pain to Rit's heart. It was by no means a physical

wound, but Rit would've much preferred the cut from the claw weapon she'd suffered

earlier.

"So you're going to take Gideon back?" Rit asked, hesitant.

"That was the plan, yeah, but…" Danan scratched his nape. "I've been here less than a

week, but I think I've at least got a handle on the situation. Never would've guessed

you two'd end up together." Danan grinned, but his expression quickly tensed up again.

"I'm going to go back and say I couldn't find him."

"Eh?" Rit exclaimed, surprised.

"Gideon found a place to call home, right? That's for the best. I'm not gonna drag him

away from that."

"Really?!"

A smile crossed Danan's stern face.

"Originally, I'd meant to leave town quick before you caught word of me being here,

but… Well, it seems like you've got your share of troubles out on the frontier, too, huh?"

Danan peeled the mask off of one of the corpses.

"That's…" Rit was at a loss for words when she saw it. Horns were sprouting from the

dead man's head. Up until a few moments ago, the attacker had looked human. Now

the creature's scalp was bald, and a pair of curled spikes was poking from its skull.

"A stalker demon! What's a mid-tier assassin demon doing out in Zoltan?!" Rit asked,

too stunned to think.

"No clue, but I doubt this is where the mystery ends," Danan replied.

"…!"

"I won't tell you to stay out of it because it's dangerous… Honestly, I'd be glad for the

help. Working with you and Gideon again would be nice, but… It's probably better that

Gideon doesn't know I'm here. His sense of responsibility can be a bit strong."

"Yeah…"

"If possible, I'd appreciate it if the two of us could share what we know. I'm staying at

a place in Southmarsh called the Black Cat."

"Got it."

After that, the two of them shared what they knew about the strange goings-on in

Zoltan. As expected, the Roof Crawler from before was a member of the Thieves Guild.

He was part of Bighawk's crew.

"So, the Thieves Guild is behind it? That's a bit cliche ," said Danan.

"That's just how these sorts of things go, isn't it?" Rit replied.

"Hmm." Danan stroked his chin, deep in thought. Rit watched him for a bit, but with

no further leads to discuss, she decided to head home.

"Then, I'll be heading back now," she stated.

"Okay, don't get caught off guard like that again," Danan warned.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Silently, Rit made her departure. Once he'd sensed that she was gone, Danan let out an

amused sort of sound.

"I knew Gideon was here, but I never thought I'd happen upon Rit, too. The world

works in mysterious and amusing ways."

The thing in the shape of Danan began to saunter back to its lodgings.

"I only managed to eat an arm, so the memories are incomplete. Gideon knows Danan

too well; he could blow my cover. I should stick to the shadows until someone puts a

stop to what those other demons are up to."

The creature wore a smile of a different sort than Danan would have as it walked along

the darkened road.

At the same time, a man lay unconscious in a village on the coast.

"Oooh, he's awake!"

Danan's eyes shot open. He had drifted ashore and wound up in a village. A fierce

hunger clawed at him from inside.

"F-food," Danan weakly murmured.

"Just wait a moment. First drink some warm water."

Someone passed a chipped cup filled with hot water to Danan, who downed it in a

single gulp. A moment later, his stomach spasmed, and he was struck by a powerful

urge to vomit.

"Amazing!"

"Wow, no one ever keeps the first mouthful down."

Several villagers expressed their surprise at having watched Danan gulp down the

contents of the cup.

"You're quite something. And after not waking up for a whole week too."

"I was out a week?!" Danan looked down at his right arm. The forearm had been

severed at the elbow. The martial artist's face turned a deep shade as he felt both rage

and shame over the blunder.

"That bastard! I dunno how he survived, but if I ever see him again, I'm gonna murder

him for sure!"

Danan had thought Shisandan to be dead. He'd seen Gideon cut the creature's head

clean off.

Shisandan was the general of the demon lord's army that had transformed into Gaius,

the head of the Loggervian royal guard. Using that disguise, the demon had been trying

to destroy the country from within. Danan was certain that the one who'd attacked

him had been the very same Asura demon.

"Perfect. If he keeps coming back to life, it gives me the chance to kill him ten more

times and call things even!" With a thrust of his one remaining fist in the air, Danan

announced his plans for revenge.

All around him, the local villagers exchanged confused glances. Each wondered who

this crazy superhuman man was.

"I'm going to get the hangover medicine from the storage room, Mr. Red."

"All right, thanks."

Recently, Al had really gotten the hang of working in the apothecary. It didn't seem like

he'd have any problem managing the store by himself now. A child's ability to learn

and adapt was truly something to behold.

"Also, can you please stop flirting with him already, Miss Rit? He needs to prepare the

gray starfish grass soon," Al insisted.

"Come oooon, I've been so busy, I haven't gotten to spend enough time around him

lately," Rit whined with her head on my not-all-that-comfortable lap. In the end, she

acquiesced and got up.

Al had gotten into the habit of complaining if Rit wasn't working when she needed to

be. Conversely, Rit had begun clinging to me until Al finally said something about it.

Rit was the adult, and her behavior was a little questionable, I suppose. Admittedly, I

could've told her to get to work, but I enjoyed it when she snuggled up to me, so I'd

been staying quiet.

"Y'know, Al, since you're helping out around the shop so much, I think I should start

paying you a salary," I said.

"You don't have to do that. I already get to eat delicious meals every day. That's

enough," the boy replied.

"Even so…," I insisted.

"In that case," Rit interjected. "Why don't we go buy Al a shotel to use?"

"Eh? I—I couldn't accept that. Wouldn't that cost even more than whatever I'd earn

working here? Besides, I've already got a shotel…" Flustered, Al did his best to refuse.

Shotels were an uncommon weapon, so buying one would've been a little on the

expensive side. A steel longsword was just thirty payril, but a shotel made of the same

material cost twice as much. Those were generous prices from a place that made

weapons in bulk, too. One made by a famous bladesmith would cost even more, and

getting one that was enchanted would run a couple thousand payril. Sword prices

tended to run higher than most other weapons.

At a more fundamental level, forging the steel required one to possess at least

Elementary Metalworking. For a sword where the entire blade needed to be

developed, saving up all of your skill points from your first five levels and then pouring

them into Forging was the fastest possible way to get the necessary skills. As such, the

number of people capable of it was thus inherently fairly limited.

On that point, because no skills were necessary to be able to cast a bronze sword, it

still sold for below ten payril even though the material itself was pricier than iron. Due

to the substance's nature, bronze wasn't used to make two-handed swords or long

polearm weapons, but a bronze sword was a freshly minted adventurer's best friend.

One payril could cover the cost of living for a single day for the average person, so a

sixty-payril shotel was enough to live off of for two months. Since Al lived in the slum

area of Southmarsh, a shotel was likely closer to what his family could live off of for

four months. Al probably thought it was far too much for a couple weeks of part-time

work.

"But the one you've got now doesn't feel quite right, does it?" Rit said.

"Th-that's…" Al stumbled on his words as he struggled to respond. Rit's comment had

been a bull's-eye.

"That's just how it goes. When you get more comfortable with everything, you can

adapt yourself to the weapon at hand, but when you're starting out, you should really

use a weapon that fits your style and quirks," I explained.

"When I was starting out, I had a sword made specifically for me, too," Rit added,

looking a bit nostalgic. Perhaps she remembered back to when she first started

studying swordsmanship. Admittedly, I was doing the same. I could still remember

clearly going back and forth with the old man at the village's casting shop when I got

my first bronze sword made.

We were going to get a proper steel shotel for Al, though. A weapon master would

never accept a bronze shotel.

"It's decided. Let's go this afternoon," I declared.

"Eh?! Today?!" Al asked, surprised.

"The blacksmith closes in the evening, after all."

"B-but…"

"I'll be tagging along, too. Or rather, Red will be tagging along with us, since I know

more about shotels."

"You too, Miss Rit?"

I moved next to Al and tousled his curly hair.

"Kids shouldn't worry about being modest. At times like this, all you have to do is say

a hearty 'thank you.'"

"…Yes, sir. Thank you very much, Mr. Red, Miss Rit!" Dimples formed in Al's cheeks as

he flashed an innocent smile.

Drake's Armory sat on the outskirts of the working-class district. It was run by the

self-proclaimed drake slayer, Mogrim, a dwarf.

"Welcome!"

Tending the counter was Mogrim's wife, Mink, a human woman. In her late forties, she

looked every part the friendly auntie. When she was lined up next to her shorter dwarf

husband, they made a bit of an odd pair. No one could say they didn't look right for

each other, though.

In Zoltan, where there were so many demi-humans, a dwarf and human couple was a

bit of an outlier.

"Oh, if it isn't Red. Finally ready to graduate from your bronze sword?"

"Nah, I was actually thinking of giving Al here a sword."

"His first?"

"Indeed, it is. I'd like to have a chat with Mogrim about it, if he's got some time."

"Well then, that's something to get excited about! I'll go call him, so stay put."

Mink dashed over to the workshop next door, shouting, "Honey! Hey, honey!"

Al watched the woman go with a stunned sort of look.

"You hang out with Tanta quite a bit, but you haven't really gone into many shops, have

you?" I asked.

"No, sir," Al replied.

"Most everyone around here's like that. A bunch of oddballs, the whole lot," I quipped.

"Who you callin' an oddball?!" a husky voice called out. It belonged to a short man,

even by dwarf standards. He was not any taller than Al, but his shoulders were broad,

and he was barrel-chested. The bottom half of his face was covered in a quintessential

voluminous dwarven beard.

"What, you didn't realize that, Mr. Drake Slayer?" I teased.

"Oy! You sayin' you still don't believe me?! Then pull up a chair, sonny, and I'll tell ya

the story again! The tale of how I slew the master of Lake Enka, the emperor of the

cursed mists, Fafnir, the mist drake!" Mogrim puffed out his chest.

"Save your breath. I've never heard of any mist drake called Fafnir to begin with. And

you're talking about Lake Enka as if it's some lost region teeming with drakes, but it's

a pretty well-known place for fishing," I shot back.

Mogrim's story changed every time he told it. Supposedly, the general gist of him

defeating some kind of monster at some lake or another was true enough. All the other

stuff he'd added over the years was just a way to make things sound more impressive.

"Get on with it already!"

"Gah?!"

As Mogrim tried to recount his adventure, Mink kicked him in the back of the head.

With the difference in physiques, Mogrim fell flat on his face.

"Quit wastin' the customer's time with your silly stories! This boy here, Al, is here for

his first sword! You better make him one that fits him just right!"

"Ugh, owwww. Sheesh, you didn't hafta kick me."

"Quit your whinin' and get to work!"

Mogrim stood back up, brushing away the dust and dirt that had clung to his beard.

"So, sonny! A shotel, huh? That's a tall order, but don'cha worry! I've got tons of

weapons back in storage, so we can start with those to figure out what sorta balance

works best for ya."

"Y-yes, sir!" Al replied.

"All right, I'll tag along then. I know a fair bit when it comes to shotels," Rit said, causing

Mogrim to do a double take.

"You're one lucky kid to have Rit the hero of all people to give you advice when getting

your sword made," Mogrim observed.

"I couldn't agree more!" Al answered, eager.

While the three of them moved to the back, I idly browsed the storefront.

Mogrim had a top-tier craftsman blessing—Runesmith. It wouldn't have been odd for

him to have opened up a shop aimed at aristocrats or higher-rank adventurers, but

apparently, his blessing was not a particularly great fit, so he struggled a little when it

came to enchanting weapons and armor with magical effects. The man was unrivaled

in matters of standard forging, however, and he was widely respected as the best

blacksmith in this part of town. Hardly anyone believed his old stories, though.

A bell rang as the front door opened.

"That you, Red? What are you doing skipping work to hang out at a place like this?"

asked a familiar voice.

"Hmm? Gonz, Storm, and Dr. Newman? You guys make for an odd trio."

A group of people I knew quite well had entered the blacksmith shop. First was Gonz

the half-elf carpenter, followed by Stormthunder the half-orc furniture craftsman, and

finally Newman the human doctor.

"Dr. Newman and I were originally planning to come together. I had an order for

carpentry tools, and the doctor was looking to get some surgical scalpels," Gonz

explained.

Dr. Newman nodded in agreement.

"I had left my knife and the plane I use to shave down furniture to get repaired. I was

just going to pick those up when I ran into the two of them on the way over."

Each of the three had his own distinct look: Gonz with his dashing face, Storm with his

fearsome visage, and Dr. Newman with his balding head and gentle smile. After

running into one another, they'd all had a few laughs and decided to stop by the

blacksmith's together.

"Oh yeah, Red, got any stories to tell about your girlfriend now that you've been living

together awhile?" Storm asked.

"I'm curious, too. How about it, Red? How are things going with the two of you?" Dr.

Newman chimed in as well.

The three of them smirked as they peered over at me.

"All right then, if you want to hear some stories, I can go however many rounds you

want. But you'd better be careful. Once I start talking about Rit, I can keep going so

long that the tools you spent all that effort to get repaired will have rusted over."

The three men burst out laughing at that, and Storm slapped my back.

"Sheesh, looks like you've got yourself a happy thing going," said Stormthunder.

"If only I could find the right person somewhere," Dr. Newman bemoaned.

"What about the girl at your clinic?" Gonz asked.

"She's got herself a boyfriend already. A C-rank adventurer no less," Dr. Newman

replied.

"Whoa, really? It'd be pretty hard for a doctor to compete against that," I commented.

"Should you really be saying that, Mr. D-rank adventurer?" Stormthunder quipped.

"It's fine; I've got Rit," I fired back proudly.

The three of them glanced at one another after hearing my remark, and a split second

later they all started mercilessly pummeling my head. I frantically beat a retreat to the

counter where Mink was standing.

"What new foolishness is this?" Mink inquired.

She looked dumbfounded by our silliness, but it still brought a smile to her face.

"Oh yeah, Red, about that single bed that Miss Rit bought…," Stormthunder began.

After things had settled down, the four of us had started to talk shop for a while.

Suddenly, there came an angry shout from outside.

"Someone picking a fight?" Gonz wondered aloud, ever curious.

"Let's go take a look," Storm answered.

The two promptly raced out of the shop. Dr. Newman and I glanced at each other,

having been left behind.

"How about it, Red? I could do with a bit of extra money from some injured fools

paying for medicine and healing fees, but what do you think?"

"Oh, that's a good idea. Let's go earn a little bit of walking-around money."

Discussing what we would buy with the money we were going to earn, Dr. Newman

and I headed outside. To our surprise, it wasn't a fight that'd broken out. A woman

with two small children at her side had gotten into a heated argument with a pair of

men.

The mother lived nearby. I didn't recognize the two men, but I had a feeling they were

from Southmarsh. The children were scared and clinging to their parent, and she had

extended her arms to cover them as she faced down the pair of menacing aggressors.

"That's enough of ya! If ya wanna do it that bad, go do it yourself!" the woman

demanded.

"You're just as annoyed with those stuck-up prig guards and council jerks as we are,

aren't ya, lady? Southmarsh and here and the harbor, we're all getting persecuted here,

so we've gotta stick together to fight back! If we don't, Zoltan'll never change!" one of

the men shouted back.

"Quit it already! You're scaring the kids!" the mother insisted.

Despite the intensity from the two pushy men, the woman stood firm and was giving

back in equal shares. That was a working-class lady for you.

"Hey, Gonz, Storm, what's going on?" I asked.

"Not sure, but those Southmarsh guys are apparently trying to recruit people to

protest at the guard post on Council Street," Gonz explained.

"Oh yeah, I heard people have been gathering there the past few days," I replied.

"They've been giving out food to people who participate, so they've gathered quite a

few from the harbor and this part of town, too. No doubt a lot of folks from Southmarsh

are joining in as well," Gonz added.

I'd heard about the growing protests. It'd been keeping the guards so busy that they

hadn't been able to devote many people to the incident with Ademi or the drug

investigations. Supposedly, they were trying to outsource those inquiries to

adventurers. The trouble was, most adventurers had their hands full trying to finish

the quests they'd put off during the summer.

At the moment, the only people still actually investigating were Rit and me.

"I've had enough!" Storm's nostrils flared as he leaped out.

"Who asked you?!" one of the men shouted.

"And who even are you?!" said the other.

"Your mother never taught you to introduce yourself before askin' other people their

names?! I'm Stormthunder! I'm a furniture craftsman in this part of town!"

"Storm!" the woman cried.

"Just move along, Maribelle. Worrying about fools like them is just a waste of time,"

Storm said back at the woman.

She looked a bit uncertain, but she quickly nodded and started to leave.

"Oy, oy! Who d'ya think ya are comin' out o' nowhere like that?!"

Indignant, the two men approached Storm.

"And who d'ya think you are talkin' like that?!" Storm made no effort to hide his own

coarse side, stepping in and grabbing the Southmarsh man by the chest. The man

snapped at that, cocking his right hand back to punch Storm.

"Whoa there," I said as I grabbed the raised hand before it could barrel into Storm's

face.

"Th-the hell are you?!" the man spat at me.

"You should back off now. If you punch Storm, that's not gonna be the end of it," I said.

"Wh-what did you say?!"

"Take a look around you."

"Huh…!"

Every nearby resident who'd heard the commotion had gathered.

"Ulp…"

They were all glaring at the two men from Southmarsh. Everyone in the neighborhood

knew Stormthunder. They all had something from his shop. If someone was fool

enough to pick a fight with their beloved local craftsman, they weren't about to sit by

and watch it happen.

"Ah, ugh… Damn fools, the lot of you! Don't you forget, everyone who crosses Mr.

Bighawk lives to regret it. There hasn't been a single person who ever went against

him that didn't pay the price!"

A tremor of agitation spread through the crowd when one of the ruffians invoked

Bighawk's name. The number two of the Thieves Guild was feared even outside of

Southmarsh.

At that, the two men regained a bit of their momentum. The man that Storm and I had

between us violently pulled himself free from our grips and opened his arms wide as

he shouted about Bighawk.

"We know all your faces, so don't go thinking you're safe. If Mr. Bighawk wanted to, he

could crush your little neighborhood. You'd better work on your bootlicking skills

while you still can!"

"Oh? That's odd; I've crossed him once or twice, and I'm just fine."

From the gathered crowd emerged a young woman who appeared unfazed by the

ruffian's threats.

"I've lost count of the number of times I've interfered with his business, and I'm pretty

sure he holds a grudge over it, too. In fact, back when I first came to Zoltan, I was

attacked by a bunch of his henchmen while I was sleeping. I killed twenty of his

underlings as payback for disturbing my sleep, and nothing's happened since. So I

can't really say I've ever come to rue crossing Bighawk."

"R-Rit the hero?!" exclaimed one of the men.

With a smile, Rit rested a hand on the hilt of one of her shotels.

"Also, Stormy's store is a favorite of mine. I even got the bed where I lay my head every

night from his place. If Stormy were to happen to get injured, I'd be rather put off."

"Eh, ah… ummm…" Immediately, the two hoodlums began to falter.

"Out of curiosity, is there much difference between twenty henchmen and twentytwo? It doesn't seem like there really would be to me, but what do you think?" Rit

needled.

""Please forgive us!!!"" The apology that came from the two men almost sounded like

a cry of terror. Immediately, they turned tail and ran.

"That's Miss Rit for ya!"

"Thank you, thank you."

As cheers and praise erupted from every direction, Rit seemed almost a different

person entirely. Looking relaxed and cheerful, she waved back to everyone.

When I came to, I could feel myself lying down on a hard surface.

"You were totally out of it," a voice informed me.

Opening my eyes, I saw a strong-willed pair of sky-blue eyes peering down at my face.

"Ngh… Morning already?"

It felt like there was a haze clouding my head. I wondered if perhaps I'd slept a bit too

long.

Ummm, where is this? I wondered. That's right, I recalled after a moment. Rit and I had

defeated a scissorhands demon and set up camp on the way back to the capital of

Loggervia.

"Sheesh, why'd I have to end up sleeping in the same tent as you?" Rit pouted.

"I mean it's not like I intended for it to end up like this, but your party ran off, and the

demon lord's army is patrolling around these parts, so letting you go alone would be

dangerous, you know?" I said.

Rit had temporarily formed a party with us, and we were traveling together. That

didn't mean that Rit was on our side, however, which was why Ares had been against

her joining up. He was suspicious that she was planning to hinder us in some way.

After having it out with each other for a while, Ares finally gave in on the condition

that I would stay close to Rit at all times and keep an eye out for anything untoward.

When it became clear that meant that the two of us would be sharing a tent, Ruti was

annoyed, and I got an earful from Rit about it, too. It was a never-ending stream of

complaints from all sides.

I let out a long sigh.

Rit's pouting face clouded over when she heard that.

"…What are you sighing about?" she asked.

"Ah, that… I'm just a bit worn out from the consecutive battles. Maybe I should see

about renting a bath when we get to the capital, so I can take a night and just relax a

bit."

It was a lie. I was trying to bluff my way through the question. Rit didn't seem to buy

it as she continued to look at me with the same murky expression.

"Also, um, I didn't think Ares would be that stubborn about you joining. I suggested us

moving together because it would've been dangerous for you to go on your own. We

can make a stop at another town along the way if you want to split off. I'm sure there

will be some adventurers or guards there who'd join up with you. A detour like that

would take an extra night of camping, though. What would you prefer? I'm sure I could

get Theodora to switch and take over for me. She's more the standard stoic fighter

than I am, so she won't talk your ear off."

"I never said I hated being with you," Rit interjected, her cheeks looking a little red.

"Eh? Uh, I…"

I was at a loss for how to respond. I never would've expected that reaction from Rit.

"Your argument was perfectly reasonable. I'm an adventurer; I'm not going to whine

about having to share a tent with someone."

"I'm pretty sure you did complain about having to stay in the same tent as me…"

"That's… um…" Rit turned away. I could hear a quiet stammering as if she was trying

to figure out how best to respond.

"Anyway, I never said I hated being with you!… So you don't have to look like that."

"Like what?"

"It's not like I don't understand that I'm causing you a lot of unnecessary effort and

trouble, okay? I'm sorry."

"D-don't worry about it. Lately, Ares always has something to say about everything I

do. I'm used to it by now."

Rit's attitude had shifted out of nowhere.

"Hey, is something wrong? Am I making a weird face?" I asked.

"…You looked heartbroken."

"Ah. Well, it's been nonstop fights for a while now. It just sort of gets to me from time

to time. It's not like it's your fault," I assured.

"…I-if you need someone to lend an ear so you can vent a bit, I can listen." Rit's voice

sounded restless as she sat there still facing away from me. "It's not like I'm really in

your party; that makes me the perfect person to complain to. Plus, we've got some

time until the rest of them wake up."

The chirps of nocturnal insects could still be heard from beyond our tent. The morning

was still a way off. I was a little unsure, but I thought I could sense a hint of concern

for me in Rit's words. It was true that I was a bit worried about being able to keep up

in the coming fights, what with getting overtaken in terms of blessing level.

I'd stewed over the problem of my Guide blessing for a while now, and the only natural

conclusion seemed to be that my job was done. While I considered it often, I'd never

once hit upon anything I could provide to overcome the limitations of my role.

Truthfully, I wasn't sure if something like that even existed, but I had to keep trying. If

I didn't come up with something, I wouldn't be able to continue with Ruti on her

journey.

"…Yeah, I guess so. If you don't mind just nodding along a bit while I talk…," I admitted.

"Sure."

I probably just wanted someone to lean on for a bit. Rit turned back to face me and

quietly listened to what I had to say at first. As I kept going, however, she began taking

my side. Rit got indignant and annoyed when I told her of Ares's various complaints.

She even started to argue as though she were in my position.

"How do you put up with that?! Those things are all his fault!" Rit declared, as incensed

as if she herself had been wronged. Seeing her like that, I smiled… and…

That was where I woke up.

"A dream? That sure brings back memories."

It had been a memory of that night in the Loggervian forest.

"Rit was at my side back then, too," I whispered.

Our two beds had been pushed neatly together. Rit was sleeping close enough to me

that if I reached out my hand, I could caress her cute cheek. I gently touched her hand

that was sticking out of the light summer blanket.

"Red…"

When she called my name, I froze up. I was afraid I'd woken her, but she was still

asleep, a look of bliss on her face.

Is she dreaming about me?

She showed up in my dream, and I showed up in hers. That alone wasn't really all that

special, but my face started to heat up when I thought about it.

The reason I'd dreamed of Rit was likely because of what Storm had said earlier that

day after that commotion with Bighawk's flunkies.

"A double bed, eh? Starting to regret getting a single? All I want is for Miss Rit to have

the best bed possible. It hasn't been long, so if you want to switch for the double, I'll take

a trade-in at full value, and you can just pay the price difference."

Rit and I had slept together in a tent so small our shoulders were touching on that

Loggervian night. Now we were lying on two beds pushed together. If I reached out, I

could touch her, but we weren't close enough that we'd rub up unintentionally.

On top of that, Rit seemed to be a bit worried lately about our simple life together

coming to an end.

"I guess we should go get a double bed," I muttered.

Getting closer to Rit had to become more of a priority. I didn't want her fretting about

stuff like that anymore.

Taking care not to rouse her, I quietly made my plans for the day.

Come morning, Rit and I went by Stormthunder's furniture store. As I'd decided last

night, the plan was to purchase a double bed.

"What, here already?" Storm's gruff face broke into a grin tinged with exasperation. "I

was sure you were only going to stop by once things settled down."

"It'd be a shame to get so absorbed in all the trouble that I forgot about my wonderful

life with Rit here in Zoltan."

Us buying the double bed today was also meant to demonstrate my taking a more

proactive position. It was still a bit embarrassing, though, since Storm was an

acquaintance.

"Oooooh, looks like things have been moving pretty fast since you first came in to get

a bed. You should have just gotten the double bed to begin with, ya wuss," Storm

prodded.

"I'm getting the double bed now, aren't I? Let me clear my good name here," I shot back.

"Hey, Red! Which one should we get? I want one that looks nice and solid!"

Paying no heed to the two of us, Rit had started comparing the beds lined up before

her. She looked excited but also entirely serious about the task at hand.

"You've got quite the eye for quality, Miss Rit." Storm's gruff craftsman expression

transformed in the blink of an eye to a sparkling salesman smile as he hurried over to

Rit.

"That one was made using Whitehorse wood. It comes from a tree that's said to only

grow in forests inhabited by unicorns! It has an elegant texture and just the faintest

natural scent to it. It's both stout and flexible, just like a unicorn's horn. It's a truly

exquisite material that even I rarely get a chance to work with."

Rit seemed to be enjoying herself as she listened to the sales pitch.

Wait, isn't that going to be super expensive?

"…Well, that's fine I guess," I muttered to myself.

Even if it was expensive, compared to what Rit had at her disposal, it was little more

than pocket change. What's more, I felt bad about the fact that my pride had kept Rit

from getting the bed that she'd wanted before. Rather than compromising this time, I

wanted her to pick her favorite. That way, there'd be no regrets.

"Come here, Red," Rit beckoned.

"Sure, just a second."

A grin spread across my face as I approached the new bed Rit stood beside. She wore

an equally excited smile.

After arranging for the delivery, we headed to the guard station on the north side of

town.

"We're back, Al."

"Mr. Red!"

While Rit and I had been off picking out the new piece of furniture, we'd left Al with

the guards, as it seemed unsafe to leave the boy to himself.

Actually, that wasn't the only reason.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. There weren't any issues, were there?" I asked.

"No. I was a little scared, but the two who looked after me were nice, so it was fine."

The two guards behind Al waved.

"They don't live in Southmarsh, but apparently, they just moved here a few years ago.

That's why they don't hate Southmarsh as much as the other guards do," Al said with

a smile.

I made a point of remembering the faces of the two men who had so kindly watched

out for the half-elf boy. With a nod of thanks in their direction, Al and I left for home.

That night, it was just the one double bed and the two of us. One and two. The math

wouldn't work unless the two of us could fit in the one. We couldn't split the thing

apart anymore. After getting caught in spiraling thoughts like that for a moment, I

eventually decided to set them aside for the time being.

"Red," Rit called.

"U-uh, yeah?"

"Hurry up."

Rit was sitting quietly on the bed and gesturing for me to join her. She was wearing

her soft pajamas. The bandanna she usually wore around her neck had already been

removed. Her golden hair swayed as she patted the spot next to her.

"Okay, okay," I said.

Right, what's the point of this if I'm going to revert to being a wuss now? I cleared my

mind and joined Rit. The two of sat there, not lying down, just looking at each other.

"Khhh!" Rit was the one who gave first. She was assertive but had a shy side to her. Her

legs fidgeted as she turned bright red and grabbed her pillow to cover her face.

It just makes her look all the cuter! I thought.

"Should we go to sleep early?" Rit asked with a muffled voice.

"Yeah, I guess we should," I replied.

I blew out the candlestick. Now the room was only lit by what little moonlight came

through the window. Rit slowly removed the pillow covering her face. Her cheeks were

red, and she was looking up at me ever so slightly. Beautiful sky-blue eyes watched

me, trembling all the while.

"Look how red you are," Rit said with a giggle, looking beet red herself.

I responded by lying down on the bed. "Come on," I said, spreading my arms.

Rit's eyes went wide, and she covered her mouth with both hands, trying to hide her

joy.

"Y-yay!"

"Oof."

Rit squeezed her eyes shut as she leaped into my arms. The two of us bounced a little

on the mattress from the force of her dive.

"Someone's heart is racing." Rit was lying with her chest pressed tightly to mine as a

grin spread across her face.

"My heart or yours?" I asked.

The answer was obvious—it was both of ours.

Rit rested her chin against my shoulder, and I slid my hands behind her back and gave

a little squeeze. Our chests thundered in sync with each other.

The way Rit's beautiful golden hair felt when I caressed it was amazing, almost like

silk. Rit's lips brushed against my neck. There was an endearing warmth that came

from her body as we lay entangled.

Rit's hands touching my back through my pajamas slid down to my waist and then

back up beneath my clothes. Her fingers brushed directly against my skin, causing me

to quiver raptly.

"Rit."

After hearing me call her name, Rit looked up at me. A hesitant exhale slipped from

between her lips.

"Red… I…"

I pressed my brow to hers as I reached for the buttons of her pajamas with both hands.

One popped open, revealing a slender collarbone. As the next came undone, Rit's wellendowed and beautiful breasts came into view. There was a bead of sweat trickling

perfectly down between them.

Rit removed my clothes as well, her fingers crawling across my chest as she undid the

fastenings of my shirt. Her hand was hot and just a little bit sweaty.

"Sorry, my hands must be rough from all the calluses… It's because I've been training

with swords ever since I was little…," Rit mumbled, looking down as though

embarrassed.

I took Rit's right hand in my left and placed it on my cheek.

"I like your hands."

Rit looked up, her face flushed again. She caressed my cheek with her hand as her face

drew near. Our lips gently met.

With my right hand, I undid another button on Rit's pajamas, and her breasts popped

free with a slight bounce. Rit's body trembled with a start, her eyes narrowing

rapturously even as we continued to kiss.

With one hand, I began to reach out toward Rit's chest.

"!"

Suddenly, I sensed movement outside the room. Rit and I broke our kiss and

instinctively froze.

"I guess Al went to get some water to drink," I said with a hushed voice.

"Sounds like he's trying not to disturb us," Rit replied.

The two of us blushed and smiled as we continued staring into each other's eyes.

"Rit, maybe we shouldn't today…"

"Ugh, even though you're so cool, you're so hopeless," Rit said playfully.

She kissed me one more time, as if pecking at me. Wrapping my arms around her, I

pulled Rit in close such that both of our bare chests were pressing against each other.

"Sorry, I only meant to flirt a little at first, but I got a bit carried away," Rit admitted.

"It was the same for me," I said back.

"I see. Eh-heh-heh… Should we go to sleep then?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Tomorrow seems like it's going to be pretty busy. Good night, Rit."

After kissing Rit's forehead, I reluctantly shifted away from her.

"Nfh… I'm going to burst from all of these feelings! Good night… I hope the trouble in

town ends soon." Rit smiled happily, took a deep breath, fixed her pajamas, and closed

her eyes.