Chapter 17: Downtown Was Generally Crowded

Downtown was generally crowded and always filled with some sort of commotion. Buildings rose to dizzying heights with new floors haphazardly built atop the last, and the alleys sandwiched between them were lined with stalls that all seemed on the verge of collapsing. These were selling suspicious items and dubious foods that looked like a stomachache waiting to happen.

Orphen was large, and that meant there were places out of sight of the public eye: hovels of the poor, dens of thieves, packs of street children and homeless beggars... These had all naturally agglomerated into the city slums.

Lionel walked through this hustle and bustle with Cheborg by his side. Cheborg was large and intimidating enough that the thugs who bumped into him and threw a glare his way would suddenly retreat without another word. Lionel, meanwhile, was just as gaunt and haggard as ever. The central guild hardly gave him any funds anymore, and he had to go around begging for funding from the nobles living in Orphen. Not a single one of them was easy to deal with, and he was never very charismatic to begin with. In fact, his negotiation earlier that day only went well because old Cheborg’s glare had been effective.

Although Lionel’s anxieties continued piling up, his management of the guild was going rather decently: adventurers were coming back, fiends were being hunted, and materials were being collected. The adventurers were even dungeon-diving as they had before.

Currently, in a desperate bid to secure more funding, the guild was coordinating more closely with the merchants, acting as a middleman for the materials. Thanks to the work of Lionel’s former party and the old hands who returned, things stayed on track somehow or another.

There were still many problems to tackle. They had picked a fight with a management system that—while now a shell of its former self—boasted a history that spanned over a hundred years. Many adventurers were enjoying themselves, but Lionel had to shoulder all the responsibility, and his stomach pains were unending. He rubbed his belly, grimacing.

“I never thought it would come to this. I should’ve just retired as a middle manager... This stress is unbearable...”

“Eh? What’s that? You say something, Lionel?”

“Just talking to myself, Mr. Cheborg... Also, you’re being loud.”

“Aha ha ha ha! Don’t be so down! They promised some money, didn’t they? Pep up, why don’t you?”

“The real trouble comes after we accept those funds...” Lionel sighed. He accepted their money, so the nobles would undoubtedly begin sticking their noses into guild policy. He would have to use his silver tongue along with the achievements of his adventurers to continue evading their unreasonable demands. The mere thought made him depressed.

“Sigh... Well, we should have enough of a track record once Ms. Ange comes back... Do you think she met up with her father?”

“No way she dropped dead along the way! I’m sure she’s having a blast with him right now!”

“I hope so. Still, to think the father whose skills she praised so highly is holed up in a remote village... If only she’d bring him back while she’s at it...”

“Aha ha ha ha ha! I’m all for it! I can’t imagine what sort of guy he is if Ange can’t land a single strike on him! Belgrieve the Red Ogre! We’ll need to have a match someday!”

“If you want to fight, please keep it outside of town, okay? But you know, I’ve never heard of the Red Ogre, nor have I heard the name Belgrieve before... You think he’s famous in another country?”

Lionel scratched his head as he scanned the shops for an adequate late lunch. He noticed a ruckus brewing in the plaza a little further down where someone was giving a speech, and the audience was being conspicuously loud. The two exchanged curious glances and went to see what was happening.

In the center of the crowd, a young girl in black clerical robes stood atop an upside-down crate. She looked to be ten, if not a little bit older. Contrasting with her black uniform, her silky long hair was pure white. She wore a matching black fur cap and had rather fine features. However, her albinism made her skin sickly pale, and her eyes an unhealthy red.

Beside her, a boy in a mantle, whose hood was pulled down to cover his face, held up a flag. It was hard to tell with most of his features concealed, but he was probably around fifteen to sixteen. He had a bit of a gloomy atmosphere lingering about him.

The girl used exaggerated gestures, prattling on in a loud voice. Despite her small body, her voice was clear and carried well.

“Hear me! Look how many of you are poor and suffering! Will you ever receive the aid you deserve? The priests of Vienna preach it thus: that the great goddess’s compassion encompasses the heavens and penetrates the earth! But then, why is there no benevolence for those suffering in poverty in the slums?!”

“Hear, hear!” the crowd loudly chimed in. The girl continued triumphantly.

“The days of Vienna are over! As are the days of the Rhodesian Empire who have converted to their faith! It is not up to the gods to offer salvation to humankind! That is for we humans to decide! The teachings of Master Solomon, a mere mortal who managed to reach their heavenly realm, are the only path to salvation! We must pray for his return! The noble man who bent demons and even fiends to his will! If Master Solomon were to lead us, we would have no need to fear the fiends anymore! Those who unjustly snatch wealth and wield unjust power in god’s name must fall, and only then will we have salvation!”

The crowd cheered in reply.

With a satisfied laugh, the girl produced stacks of peculiar paper from the bag on her shoulder, each depicting the seal of the heretic sorcerer Solomon. It was the same icon emblazoned on the flag the boy carried, a magic circle that took on the shape of an eye. She held them high and proclaimed, “Behold! These are the talismans of Master Solomon! As long as you have these, you need not fear annihilation when he makes his return! These would usually never be allowed outside the temple! You couldn’t buy them no matter how much money you had, but I want to save everyone! I’ll give you a special deal: twenty copper coins apiece! Buy now! Buy today!”

Onlookers timidly reached out, and the talismans sold like hotcakes.

So this is the rumored cult. Lionel sighed. It all sounded so foolish. A madman who disappeared into the furthest reaches of time and space after conquering the continent couldn’t possibly be a good leader. And above all else, he didn’t feel any mana from those pieces of paper, so they couldn’t possibly have any effect. This was a scam, pure and simple.

Still, such speeches resonated with those who were greatly frustrated with the current state of things, and misery fell upon Lionel as a result.

Cheborg grinned from ear to ear. “The world’s getting pretty chaotic, eh? Someone needs to get their act together!”

“I don’t want any more trouble...”

It was then that a platoon of soldiers rushed in, blowing shrill whistles.

Their captain yelled, “What do you think you’re doing?! You’re leading the ignorant masses astray with your shady performances!”

The girl who gave the speech scoffed. “I simply told the truth! Did you hear that, everyone? ‘Ignorant,’ he said! That is how the country regards you! Those in power know the populace must be kept ignorant, or they will have no standing! Is this really how things should be?”

The crowd, swayed by her words, began protesting to the soldiers, with some even hurling things at them. The soldiers were momentarily taken aback, but the captain drew his saber.

“Silence!” he proclaimed. “You outlaws are disrupting the peace! Arrest them!”

The soldiers each took weapons in hand and rushed at the girl. The crowd recoiled with screams, but the girl, despite being so young, retained her composure.

She shook her head. “There is no medicine to cure a fool.”

She lifted her hand, chanting something under her breath, and suddenly, the soldiers came to a halt. They struggled, but failed to move an inch closer. Before the dumbfounded onlookers’ eyes, the armed men floated into the air, writhing. They seemed to be in incredible pain, perhaps unable to breathe.

The girl looked at them coldly. “Fools who defy the teachings of Solomon—repent.”

Lionel immediately reached towards his hip, but he had only gone out to meet a noble, and he hadn’t brought his weapon. Furrowing his brow, he glanced at Cheborg.

“Let’s stop them.”

“Aha ha ha ha! What sloppy soldiers!”

They leaped over the crowd and landed in front of the girl. Cheborg reached out, grabbed her hand, and forcefully lowered it. All at once, the soldiers fell to the ground gasping for breath.

The girl’s eyes widened. “Eek...! Wh-Who?!”

“You’re taking your pranks a little too far, eh? It’s time for the kids to go home!” Cheborg raised his free hand, aiming to knock her out.

The girl’s face stiffened in fear, and she glanced at the boy beside her and screamed, “Byaku! Help me!”

In the next instant, Cheborg’s hand was thrown back by an unseen force. He furrowed his brow, shocked. The boy was pointing his finger at him, and he could hear the sound of fierce impacts as projectiles struck his whole body. It felt as though small, invisible masses of mana were being hammered into him one after another, exploding into his skin.

“Whooooa!”

This unforeseen assault was enough for Cheborg to unhand the girl. He drew back, taking a defensive stance with both arms crossed in front of him. Seeing this, the boy drew back like a coiled snake ready to strike, then thrust both hands forward. An even larger unseen mass of mana sent Cheborg flying off his feet.

As he flew through the air, the old man laughed. “Bwah?! Ha ha ha! Not bad!”

“Magic...bullets?” Lionel narrowed his eyes, doubtfully.

Magic bullet was a spell that fired colorful mana projectiles, but these ones were completely transparent. This seemed distinct from Cheborg’s technique, where he used the tattoos on his arm to amplify the blast waves whenever he would swing his fists. He had never heard of magic like this before.

Even as he pondered this, Lionel swiftly circled behind the boy. He pounced, attempting to pin him down. However, before his hands could reach him, they collided with a flickering, semi-translucent geometric symbol.

“An autonomous defensive barrier?!” he gasped.

Now that Lionel had stopped, the boy thrust forth the heel of his palm. The mass of mana that came with this motion blasted Lionel back. It was surprising, but its output wasn’t particularly strong. He hardly took any damage, and after spinning a few times in the air to correct his posture, he managed to touch down relatively gracefully.

This had, however, created distance. Lionel immediately kicked off to close it, and Cheborg began running too.

The boy approached the girl crouching on the floor and muttered, “Hey...you all right, Your Holiness?”

“Stupid! Idiot! Byaku! What are you here for?! Don’t let them get close to me!”

“Hmph... Anyways, we’re withdrawing. I’m not dealing with two former S-Ranks...” Sounding rather fed up, the boy picked up the wailing girl, swiftly chanted something and waved his hand. In an instant, the two figures flickered like a mirage and disappeared as if they had never been there, a mere moment before Lionel would have been upon them.

“T-Teleportation magic? That’s superior magic only a handful of magicians in the empire can use... On top of invisible magic bullets, and an autonomous barrier... Wh-Who were they...?”

“Aha ha ha ha! Those brats were a riot! Looks like I’m getting sloppy, letting them get away! I won’t go easy next time!” Cheborg gave a grand laugh.

Lionel could feel that trouble was brewing once more, and his stomach was hurting more than ever.

○

The fields were revitalized and seeds were being planted all around. Once the wheat was sufficiently prepared, it would be time for the spring festival.

Unlike the fall festival, the spring festival did not bring in many outside visitors. Thanks were offered to the goddess Vienna for allowing the villagers to survive a harsh winter. The ghosts of ancestors that visited during the fall would be sent off with lanterns. Additionally, the arrival of the warm season would be welcomed with food and drink. Food was not so abundant after winter, but still, the cider casks were cracked open, and meat, wheat porridge, and mountain vegetables were served up.

On the warm day that preceded the spring festival, Angeline was holding her head, crouching in the yard. She had once again suffered a blow from Belgrieve.

Belgrieve frowned and sighed. “Ange...how many times do I have to tell you? Don’t glance before you move. You should be more than capable of that.”

“Urgh...you’re the only one who’s ever managed to evade me, dad...”

“But can you be so sure you’ll never meet a person or fiend who can do that in the future? What will you do then? Your opponent won’t sympathize with your excuses. You mustn’t get conceited. Staying alive is the fundamental baseline for being an adventurer.”

“I mean...” Angeline pouted with puffed-up cheeks and averted her eyes. She was practically a spoiled child.

It had been just over two weeks since she had returned, and as the cheer of spring grew in Turnera day by day, she strolled around the forests and mountains, helping out with the fieldwork and household chores, training with Belgrieve every day. It was as if she had returned to childhood, and rather than wanting to improve her skills, she seemed to enjoy the training itself. She couldn’t manage to land a strike, but as Angeline managed to witness her father’s skill first-hand, she did not mind all that much. In fact, it seemed she was growing accustomed to loss and was hardly even trying to win at this point.

Meanwhile, Belgrieve trained with a bitter face. Angeline was laughing, but this did not sit right with him as a father. Sure, Ange is strong, and she defeated a demon. But if she can’t even win against the likes of me, she’ll undoubtedly meet someone she can’t beat one of these days.

No matter how many times he said that though, Angeline didn’t seem to take it seriously. She had the baseless confidence that came with being seventeen, as well as the pride which came from her actual achievements as an adventurer.

Belgrieve closed his eyes and stroked his beard. He felt he was at least partially to blame for spoiling her too much and couldn’t come out too harshly against her. However, if he did not work out her bad habits as a parent, or as a teacher, he would be too anxious to allow her to return to adventuring—a trade that toed the line between life and death. Perhaps this was his own self-conceit, but a parent would always worry for his child.

“The food is ready, both of you,” Miriam called, popping her face out of the house. Anessa peeked out as well.

“Rabbit meat and wheat porridge. Does that work for you?”

“Hmm, oh, thank you. Sorry you had to take care of it...”

“Oh no, I’m doing this because I enjoy it...”

The girls had begun enjoying the country life in Turnera. Now they joined in the fieldwork and housework, the morning walks, and even the training. They were preparing meals increasingly often as well, and with her skill with the bow, Anessa was a far more competent hunter than Belgrieve.

Thinking this would be the day he fixed Angeline’s movements, Belgrieve had entrusted the house to them, but he had yet to achieve the results he wanted. He awkwardly scratched his head and urged Angeline to stand.

She sprung up, forgetting all her displeasure, and lightly made for the front door. Turning, she smiled mischievously.

“Dad, food!”

“Ange...”

“What?”

“Do you...plan to stick it out as an adventurer?”

“Yeah! I mean, it’s fun... I’m sure it’s what’s best for me...” she said, innocently.

Belgrieve placed a hand on his brow and heaved a deep sigh. It was no good. He needed to do something.

The table was already set. The rabbit meat and porridge were steaming, with dried goat cheese as a garnish. Anessa and Miriam could cook for themselves thanks to their experience at the orphanage, and the food they prepared was quite delicious. The porridge contained spices brought from Orphen, and the scent was distinctive and fresh.

Belgrieve munched on the meat and sipped at the porridge. The girls seemed to be enjoying it as well.

It was a peaceful scene. The night before, they had entered the mountains and harvested glowgrass to send down the river during the spring festival. The flowers covered the ground, emitting a soft, pale-blue glow, and the girls traversed the field back and forth, never tiring of it.

If she wanted to continue living like that, he did not mind if she never fixed her bladework. However, Angeline wanted to continue as an adventurer and to continue wielding her strength. There were some who said that adventuring was a lifelong trade; she couldn’t stop even if she wanted to.

In that case, she needed as few weaknesses as possible. One single mistake could determine life or death. That was precisely what led to the loss of his right leg, and he was lucky that’s all he lost. It would all be over once she lost her life: after that, she could no longer sit around the table with family and friends; no longer have a pleasant chat or feel the summer heat and winter cold; no longer feel sorrow or joy.

No parent in the world would rejoice at their daughter being killed by a fiend. What would be the point of spoiling her here? Now that it had come to this, he had no choice but to become a real ogre.

Belgrieve took in a deep breath. Angeline noticed the grim look persist on his face as she deftly served him meat and went to brew tea, and even she began to grow anxious.

“Dad...what’s wrong? Are you...angry?” she timidly asked.

Belgrieve silently stood and, picking up his sword, gestured towards the door with his head.

Angeline tensely rose to her feet, picking up her own blade to follow after him. Anessa and Miriam exchanged anxious looks before tagging along themselves.

Once in the backyard, Belgrieve tapped his artificial leg against the ground before turning to face Angeline. His usual kind air had vanished—she couldn’t read anything from his expression, though his eyes were cold.

“Ange.”

“Y-Yes, dad...?”

“If you want to continue as an adventurer, then beat me in this match.”

“Huh...? B-But...”

“I can’t let you continue with half-baked skills and resolve. If you can’t defeat your father, and you still want to persist...” Belgrieve glared at her. “I won’t think of you as my daughter anymore.”

Angeline froze, her sword falling from her grasp. Her face looked as if the world had come to an end, leaving her in a daze with tears overflowing from her eyes.

“You’re joking...right, dad? There’s no way...you would say that...right?”

Belgrieve could feel a biting pain in his chest. However, Angeline would never grow unless he did this—children had to leave the nest someday. He forcefully held down his urge to take it all back and hug her, and instead steeled his gaze.

“Take your stance.”

She stood there silent for a moment. “No.” Angeline gripped at her sleeves, staring at him with teary eyes. “No, no, no! I don’t want this...”

“Will a fiend listen if you tell them that?! Quit being so spoiled!”

His tone was growing harsh, in part to belie his own emotions. Angeline’s body twitched, scooping her sword up with hollow eyes. However, she took nothing even resembling a stance. She quivered, muttering under her breath.

“It’s all wrong... This isn’t... My dad would never say that...” It was as if her heart wasn’t in it.

Belgrieve opened his eyes wide and yelled, “Angeline!” eliciting a soft gasping “Ah!” from her. At the same time, he closed in at speeds unthinkable on a peg leg. Up to that point, Belgrieve had always waited to counterattack, and as he took the initiative with a preemptive strike, Angeline was forced to react.

She caught the low-angled blow. His sword was more menacing than it had ever been, and while it was sheathed, she felt as if she would be torn to shreds if it touched her. She had never seen Belgrieve like this—no, she had, but just once. She had seen this version of Belgrieve when she was young, in the winter snow. The blade that had protected her then was now turned on her.

Why? How? Angeline knew she had to do something about the torrent of blows raining down upon her. Did I make dad angry? Did I do something to make him hate me? No...

Belgrieve’s sword was vicious but also sorrowful.

Dad isn’t angry, he’s sad...because I’m so pathetic.

A forceful blow sent Angeline reeling back. Having launched so many powerful swings, Belgrieve had to pause for a brief moment. Those were not movements he was accustomed to, and he had worked up a sweat. He let out a long sigh, slowed his breathing, and retook his stance.

Angeline slowly raised her face, her arms falling like the power had drained from her body.

Belgrieve narrowed his eyes. At a glance, she seemed full of openings, and yet she emanated a fighting spirit that seemed to indicate he would be immediately cut down if he took a single step towards her. He was trembling, though it was hard to say whether it was from fear or fervor.

However, the moment he began to shake, Angeline made her move. Her footwork like a vengeful specter, she practically slid across the ground towards him. He couldn’t read her at all.

Still, Belgrieve took a strong swing, a mighty strike fully utilizing the momentum of a powerful step. Angeline evaded it with no difficulty at all—or rather, it was as if he had swung where she never was in the first place.

She’s got me, he thought. He was now full of openings; he could be attacked from any angle—and now she was right inside his guard. He hadn’t known she could move like this, but this only filled him with relief. What more could a teacher ask for?

He had expected a powerful strike, his body stiffening in preparation for the blow, only for something soft to leap at his chest. It was so unexpected that Belgrieve toppled right over.

“Ange?”

She had thrown her sword aside, burying her face in his chest, silently shaking. Seeing her like that, Belgrieve could feel the tension drain from his body. He hadn’t been struck, but he had lost.

He placed a hand on Angeline’s head and gently stroked it.

“Well done... As expected of my daughter.”

However, when she raised her face, she was in a ruddy rage, glaring at him through teary eyes. “Apologize,” she demanded after a quiet moment.

“Huh?”

“Apologize for saying such terrible things! Don’t say I’m not your daughter! Never, ever! No matter what happens! I will always, always be my dad’s daughter!”

She babbled on as she pressed her head into his chest and sobbed. Belgrieve frantically patted her.

“Sorry, sorry. I thought I could finally get you to fight seriously...”

“No! I haven’t forgiven you! If you want to be forgiven, then hold me! Hug me!”

Still angry, Angeline wrapped her hands around Belgrieve’s back and squeezed. Did I just worsen that condition of hers? Belgrieve wondered, but her movements had been truly splendid. If she was capable of that, perhaps he could spoil her a bit. He hugged her back and stroked her head. He was a doting parent, after all.

Seeing Belgrieve hold and soothe Angeline, Anessa and Miriam looked relieved.

“That’s good... I was worried for a minute there...”

“Right? But it’s best when those two get along.”

Miriam giggled and Anessa nodded. But then they recalled his fierce intensity. Neither would dispute that he was indeed the Red Ogre after that.