Chapter 8: To the West of Orphen Was a Wasteland

To the west of Orphen was a wasteland littered with rocks of all sizes. In this place, a complex geometric pattern appeared and lingered in the air for a brief second, before a powerful torrent of lightning gushed forth from it. The spider fiends that had been racing around the area were scorched black.

“There’s more where thaaat came from!” Each time Miriam lightly swung her staff, more patterns would appear in the air and lightning would fall again and again.

Angeline and Anessa watched from behind.

“Magic sure is useful for wiping out hordes...”

“It is... But do you reckon Merry’s stressed, or something?”

The force behind Miriam’s magic was far from normal. She seemed enraged.

Angeline smiled. “I’m sure...the cake she wanted was sold out.”

“Sad to say I can’t deny the possibility.”

Anessa dexterously nocked three arrows, drew her bow, and fired. Those arrows accurately pierced the brows of three spiders the lightning had spared before bursting into flames. Apparently, her projectiles were engraved with spells to make them explode.

The blast wave caught the brim of Miriam’s large witch’s hat, causing it to fly into the air.

“Whoa,” Angeline exclaimed as she rushed in and caught it.

In no time, the spiders crowding the wasteland had been completely annihilated. The girls seemed completely unperturbed, despite the fact that the spiders had been AA-Rank Calamity-Class fiends.

Angeline stretched. “Anne, hurry and become S-Rank, so I can have some free time...”

“What’s with that...” Anessa sighed.

Miriam, meanwhile, ran up to them in a flurry of motion. “Aaah, my hat.”

Atop her uncovered head rested two twitching cat ears. It was hard to tell since she always hid those ears under her hat, but Miriam was a beast-man; her loose robe concealed a tail as well.

As she hobbled her way over, Angeline handed her the hat.

“Here.”

“Thanks Ange.” Miriam took it and pulled it down until it nearly covered her eyes. Her body trembled. “Wooow, it’s cooold. It’s totally winter now.”

“Right. Let’s hurry back for some mulled wine.”

The three packed up and returned to Orphen. Along the way, the thick clouds that had loomed since the morning grew even darker until it finally began to snow. The wind was frigid, as if pricking their skin. Exposed ears and noses turned red in the breeze, and their breaths formed into a white haze before melting into the pearly-gray winter sky.

Orphen was in the northern part of the continent, and its winters were cold. However, Turnera was even further north, and Angeline thought nothing of it. When she was younger, she would often romp around the snow while lightly dressed, giving Belgrieve quite a headache.

Breathing out a long, wintry breath, Anessa muttered, “Winter, huh... I wouldn’t want my hands to get numb.”

“An archer’s fingertips are their lifeline. How about getting gloves?”

“Nah, I’m used to shooting barehanded. Maybe fingerless gloves.”

“How about instead...we use Anne’s inability to work in the winter as a reason to take off. Then I’ll be in Turnera. Perfect.”

“There you go again... In the first place, the snow’s too harsh in these parts to even head north.”

“Urgh...” Angeline grumbled.

“I for one want a day off. I want a vacation,” Miriam chimed in.

They had received minor breaks since the start of fall, though Angeline couldn’t recall ever having more than three in a row. They hunted and hunted, yet the fiends showed no signs of calming down—in fact, they seemed more active now than ever. Lately, their party was being called in to deal with A-Rank fiends as well. There were just so many of them that the adventurers were growing fed up and leaving Orphen bit by bit.

“The guild is facing a serious shortage...” Angeline muttered.

Anessa nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I think so too. I don’t care if they’re only B-Rank, we need more adventurers on board.”

“There are loads of adventurers leaving Orphen... Even the high-ranking ones are starting to go. This isn’t good.”

“I mean, they’ve got no time to catch their breath with so many fiends popping up. Rumors of the working conditions here are getting out too.”

“Right? People are usually happy with how much Calamity-Class quests pay, but now they’re just tired.”

“Precisely. Not to mention adventurers are folks who don’t like to be tied down.”

“We need to think of something...”

In any case, the three returned to the guild and reported the completion of their request. The receptionist smiled but looked somewhat exhausted as she stamped the seal of approval.

Angeline scowled. “Are you tired...?”

“Me? No, ha ha ha... At least, not as much as you adventurers.”

“Hmmm...”

Miriam stretched out. “All right, let’s go to the tavern. I want some sweet mulled wine.”

“Go on ahead of me.”

“What’s wrong? Something up?”

“Just some minor business. I’ll meet up with you later.”

“Okay...? Well, whatever.”

Anessa and Miriam tilted their heads questioningly, but left regardless. Angeline turned back to the receptionist.

“Hey, is the guild master in...?”

Hearing how angry Angeline sounded, the receptionist flinched and began to panic. “U-Um, er... Why do you ask? Is something wrong?”

“You honestly think nothing’s wrong here...?! I’m here to talk about serious business—more serious than usual. No pretending he’s not in—call him here.”

The receptionist hesitated, but eventually gave up and headed through the back door. A while later, a middle-aged man with scraggly brown hair that was peppered with flecks of white emerged—the guild master of Orphen, Lionel.

Looking worn out, Lionel yawned and slowly scratched his head. Perhaps he hadn’t had the time to fix his bedhead, as his hair was a complete mess, sprouting this way and that. His eyes squinted gloomily, and he gave off the impression that he had been sleeping until a moment ago.

Angeline sullenly huffed, “You came out today, Guild Master. Instead of running away...”

“What do you want? You’ll need to wait a bit longer for a vacation, Ms. Ange.”

“I’m not here for that today... There are too few adventurers. In the first place, it’s strange that the higher-ranking adventurers should have any obligation to the guild. Adventurers aren’t supposed to be tied down. They should be free to decide what jobs they take... That’s why adventurers are fleeing from Orphen.”

Lionel scratched his cheek. “Well, you know how it is with the unnatural outbreaks of Calamity-Class fiends and all. If it was left up to free will, we’d have dead civilians on our hands, along with all the destroyed towns and cities...”

“Then hurry up and look into what’s causing this mass outbreak. It’s unfair that we’re the ones who have to deal with it...”

“I am sorry about that—and quite grateful too. But when you were promoted to A-Rank, I explained that high-ranking adventurers were obligated to help deal with Calamity-Class fiends, didn’t I?”

“And who’s the one who laughed and said, ‘But that rarely ever happens’?!”

“Regulations were pretty lax because there were never so many Calamity-Class fiends back then. Can you really blame me now?” he griped. “Anyways, honor your promises. Those with power have certain obligations.”

“If you’re not doing anything to fix this...I at least have the right to complain about it!” Angeline said, tapping her fingertips against the counter.

Lionel was starting to sound frustrated. “That’s why I’ve increased your job rewards, and I’m paying you a fixed salary too. We didn’t used to do that, you know? Back when I was in your shoes—”

Angeline cut him off. “It’s not about the money! I did not become an adventurer to spend every waking hour killing fiends! Don’t think you can take advantage of us forever... The adventurers are all leaving! If you don’t find the cause soon, it will only get worse!”

“Ugh... Yes, I think so too, but investigating that is also an adventurer’s job. The fiends are popping up faster than we can handle, and we have no one we can send to do it. We can’t just ignore human lives to send people to uncover the cause, and the same goes for the other guilds. They’re sending all their work to us, since we have the most adventurers, troublingly enough. And thanks to that, this old man is all worn out.”

Angeline furrowed her brow. “Don’t play dumb, Guild Master... You’re just neglecting it because you can’t be bothered! If you don’t have the people, then you could scout out some mercenaries, or drag in some retired adventurers, and if there are no adventurers around Orphen, then ask Estogal for reinforcements! Why, you could even put the duke’s army to work too! This is no longer just a problem for adventurers!”

Lionel offered an awkward frown. “I mean...if you load on any more, this old man will work himself to death. I’m already thirty-nine.”

“What are you saying, after all the work you’ve put me up to... You’re not risking your life on the frontlines anymore, so put some backbone into it! This is why the adventurers are going away!”

Angeline smacked a fist against the counter. The receptionist shrieked and stepped back as the cracks grew even deeper.

“I get it, I get it.” Lionel gave in. “There’s a lot of paperwork to do, so I can’t get to it just yet, but I’ll try.”

“That’s a promise, Guild Master... If you don’t hurry up, there really will be more deaths.”

“Now, now, if it really gets to that, I’ll just get a bit serious. You know, despite everything, I used to be S-Rank.”

Angeline sneered at Lionel’s attempts to pacify her. “You’re acting quite smug for someone who lost to me in one blow...”

“Hey! You promised not to say that! It’s a lie! It’s all a lie! The guild master is still the strongest around!” Falling into witless dismay, Lionel began loudly making excuses to no one in particular. The receptionist stared at him.

Once upon a time, Lionel had been amused by the tremendous pace with which Angeline climbed through the ranks, and challenged her to a mock battle. A part of him wanted to humble a little girl who was growing a bit big for her britches, but it all resulted in him keeling over from one well-placed blow to the head.

He begged Angeline to keep it a secret, hoping to protect his dignity as guild master. However, Lionel never had any dignity to begin with. No one would say so aloud, but the sentiment was shared by everyone from the receptionists to the adventurers. Lionel’s amiability was both his strongest point and his greatest flaw; in a situation like this, his frivolous attitude only invited irritation.

Nevertheless, Angeline had his word now, and she left the guild with her shoulders raised indignantly.

The snow was gradually falling more heavily from thick, dark clouds. It wasn’t quite noon, and yet, the streetlamps were already being lit.

The tavern had no magical heating, and yet it was crammed so full of people Ange nearly choked from the hot temperature of drunkards vehemently debating while a red flame burned in the hearth. In fact, the icy winds blowing in through the gaps seemed refreshing to her.

She restlessly searched for Anessa and Miriam, finding the two of them at the bar. She took a seat, propping her head up with a hand, and called to the owner across the counter.

“One mulled wine—load it up with spices. Also, a duck sauté.”

While the owner was busy with other customers, he glanced at Angeline and nodded. He already knew her face—though he was so dreadfully unsociable that she still didn’t know his name.

Miriam’s cheeks were already red as she savored her wine and asked, “What did you get up to?”

“I made sure that someone will look into the cause of these fiend outbreaks.”

Anessa passed her some cheese.

“You think that’ll work out? The high-ranking adventurers are all out on other jobs—either that, or they’ve run off to other guilds. Who’s gonna look into it?”

“They could pull in some of their retired ones...like Old Man Silver, or the Muscle General.”

“Stop calling Mr. Cheborg the Muscle General... They’re both getting pretty old though. Maybe they won’t be up for it?”

“Do you really think so, Anne...?”

“No... Honestly, I can’t imagine old age doing anything to slow them down,” Anne answered after a moment.

“Right? I can’t understand why they retired in the first place...”

Angeline gingerly sipped at the mulled wine placed before her. It had been filled with honey and spices, giving off a strong, sweet aroma that made it feel like a fire had been lit in the depths of her body. Once she’d reached drinking age, she would always have it in the winter. Meanwhile, the duck was juicier than usual—a real delicacy.

Gradually, she could hear the outside wind growing stronger, rattling the sealed windows with the sound of lashing whips. Each time someone came or went, that wind would blow some snow through the doorway. It was sure to be a cold night.

When she lived in Turnera, Angeline would spend nights like these clinging to Belgrieve as she slept. Belgrieve’s arms were large and warm, and they let her sleep with peace of mind. After she’d decided to leave for Orphen, she’d done her best to learn to sleep alone, but on the coldest nights, or when she felt the most helpless, she would sneak into his bed anyways. Angeline’s hands were cold by nature, so he would always be startled, but he would smile and let her sleep with him.

Angeline let out a deep sigh. “Dad was warm...”

“What was that?”

“I said my dad is incredibly warm if you hold him. He’s perfect for cold days like this.”

“You really are a spoiled girl, Ange. Aha ha.” Miriam cackled.

Angeline pursed her lips. “There is nothing wrong with a daughter being doted on by her father... What about you two?”

“Huh? We’re orphans, remember? We were supposed to sleep separately, but it’s not like winter’s advent was suddenly gonna increase the number of blankets, so a number of us would pack into the same bed and layer up our covers to sleep.”

“Right, right. Anne, see—she’s no good with cold, so she would cling to me.”

“Wha—! Don’t be daft! You’re the one who clung to me! Pressing those cold hands against me!”

“Mmm-ha ha ha, turnabout is fair play.”

Angeline finally realized Miriam had already downed a number of cups of hot wine, putting her in quite the mood. Her pink cheeks turned redder, her eyes were unfocused, and she kept fawning over Angeline and Anessa.

“Meowwwn, I feel great.”

“Ah, you drank too much, dummy. You’re not exactly a heavyweight.”

“Cold weather. Good drinks. What else is there to say?”

“I’m dragging you back before it’s too late... How about you, Ange?”

“I’ll drink some more. To vent my frustration...”

“Aaah, aye’ll hyave shum moar too...”

“You’re done! See you tomorrow Ange—don’t overdo it with the drinks.”

Miriam flailed as Anessa dragged her out of the shop. The two of them apparently shared a small house. Would they sleep in the same bed on a cold night like this? Angeline imagined the scene as she stuffed the last morsel of duck into her mouth.

Now alone, Angeline ordered another mulled wine, a grilled sausage, and some pickled radish. She glanced around the tavern. There were several adventurer-looking folks, but perhaps everyone was exhausted, as even their merrymaking seemed a bit weary.

If the guild managed to scout some mercenaries or skilled wanderers, or if the retired high-ranking ones returned, the number of adventurers could bounce back. Or, if the lord’s army went on the move, the adventurers would have enough leeway to look into the cause. Finding that out would make it easier to deal with, and the burden placed on Angeline and everyone else would be substantially reduced. Even former adventurers who couldn’t take jobs due to old age or injury could at least guide the lower-ranking ones. If the quality of the adventurers rose, it would ultimately make it easier for Angeline to take some time off.

“But will it work out so easily...?”

Come to think of it, her father had been an excellent teacher. He never said very much, but he was always watching me and gave advice when it was needed. If my dad could become an instructor... Once she’d thought up to that point, a flash of lightning suddenly raced across her brain.

“Why didn’t I realize it sooner...” she said slowly.

Instead of going home herself, she could simply have Belgrieve come to the capital. It would be more than possible to support him with her income.

She tried to imagine the two of them renting out a large house. Every time she completed a request and came home, her father would be there to pat her on the head. She could eat the meals he cooked for her. Naturally, it would be far easier to introduce her friends to him. Not to mention, her father was strong—his rank would rise in no time if he was reinstated as an adventurer. Then, fighting side-by-side in the same party would no longer be a dream, and everyone would respect the Red Ogre.

Unfortunately, it was currently winter, and Turnera was sealed away in the snow. It was difficult enough just leaving the capital, and it wouldn’t be easy to send letters either.

“Dammit, I’m such a fool...”

Angeline took a mouthful of wine and sighed. “Still...” She had a vague feeling that Belgrieve and Turnera came as a set. Of course, she wanted to call him to the capital and treat him to the tavern and the cake shop. She wanted to introduce him to Anessa and Miriam, and all the other adventurers she got along with.

But even more than that, she wanted to harvest cowberries in the mountains, wash dishes, and till the fields—especially if Belgrieve was there to watch over her.

Her desire for her father to be more renowned and her urge to monopolize him were at odds. Both wishes were nearly equal, but when she recalled the fireplace back home in Turnera, her thoughts were swayed in that direction. She imagined herself there, sitting on Belgrieve’s lap.

“I need to go home after all...”

She pressed her chin against the counter. It was nice and cool, a pleasant sensation against her wine-heated face. I just want dad to be my dad. She sighed.

Someone sat in the seat beside her. It was so cold and snowy, yet the customers continued to pour in; no doubt everyone was seeking some warmth.

“Hmm...”

The owner set out a sausage, some pickled radish, and mulled wine in front of her. As always, he did so unceremoniously. Angeline gave a slight nod and placed a few coins on the table.

She had just bit down on the sausage, which was practically bursting with meaty juices, when she heard an “Oh?” from beside her. She turned to see the blue-haired lady peddler sitting there. Angeline’s eyes widened in recognition. Didn’t expect to see her again...

“Oh... Aren’t you that...?”

“The pleasure’s all mine, Ms. Angeline. You really saved me back there.”

Angeline hadn’t seen the peddler since she’d rescued Seren from the bandits. It had been close to half a year since then, but they had been alone together on the road for several days, and the impact of saving Seren and returning her to House Bordeaux ensured that Angeline remembered this woman. The peddler hadn’t forgotten about the Black-Haired Valkyrie either.

“I’m glad you look well...”

“Yes, thanks to you.”

“You’re doing business in Orphen now?” Angeline asked hesitantly.

“Aha ha, I just got here. I was carting fish from Elvgren to Bordeaux—it’s easier this time of year when you don’t need to pay for cooling magic.”

“Bordeaux... It’s even colder there...”

“That it is. It’s winter, plain and simple. I’m from Estogal myself, so I’m not that good with the cold.”

“But you still went north...”

“Tee hee, that’s the peddler spirit. House Bordeaux’s gotten a good impression of me ever since then, and it’s become much easier to do business in northern parts. I even went and bought a sled.” The peddler laughed as she sipped her steaming hot wine. House Bordeaux was apparently accommodating her as one of Seren’s saviors.

“Not bad,” she said after blowing on her beverage. Suddenly seeming to recall something, the peddler spoke up: “Come to think of it, I was in Turnera for the autumn festival. I saw your father.”

Angeline suddenly closed in on her, causing the peddler to let out a slight “Eek!”

“How was he? Was my father well?”

“Y-Yes, very. He seemed to be in utterly good health. He managed to handle all of House Bordeaux’s elite guard rather easily...”

“Huh... What? What do you mean...?”

The peddler explained the dispute between Helvetica and Belgrieve during the festival. The more she told, the more Angeline’s displeasure became manifest—her brow was knit, her mouth fell into a sharp frown, and her fingertips pounded against the table.

“Wench... So she thinks she can snatch away my father, huh? She better not expect me to let her off lightly just because she’s Seren’s sister!”

“N-Now, now, she ultimately called it off.”

“Good... Well, I’d expect no less from dad. He was pretty cool, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, I was honestly quite shocked. He had no wasted movement, and though there’s no mistaking that peg leg in hindsight, it took me a while to realize he had a prosthetic at all.”

“Right... I’m sure he’d be even more incredible if he had both legs.”

“His hair was a splendid red too—truly befitting the red ogre. And he had the composure of a mature adult man. I can understand why you’d want to reunite with him, Ms. Angeline,” the peddler stated airily. Though she was clearly paying lip service, Angeline’s eyes lit up, and she grabbed the peddler by the shoulder.

“You understand...”

“Eh? Me? Y-Yes?”

“There is no other option. We shall spend the night discussing my dad’s brilliance...!”

“W-Wait, Ms. Angeline?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll pay your bill.”

“I-I’m glad to hear it, but I have a business negotiation tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll cover any losses you incur.”

“Trust is pretty important for a merchant...”

“Master, two mulled wines, and some cheese—on the double.”

Angeline stuck her hand into her wallet, and heedlessly slammed a fistful of coins on the bar. Her eyes were set in determination. The mulled wine was getting to her.

It’s no good, I can’t get away, the merchant thought with a sigh. But she smiled and steeled her resolve. Would her business partners understand if she told them she’d been apprehended by an S-Rank? She could only hope.