Chapter 19: They Woke before Daybreak

They woke before daybreak and walked around the village once again. Angeline, in high spirits, climbed to the top of her favorite hill and watched the sun rise over the village, declaring that it would be the last time for a while. It was still cold and white around, but the sights she could see from there had grown distinctly green.

After returning to the house for a light breakfast, they beat out their bedding and carried the straw to the shed. The floor was swept clean, and they ensured there were no remaining embers in the fire. The fireplace burned practically every hour of the day, and it had been a long time since it was completely extinguished.

Then, the wagon was loaded. It was far emptier than it had been on the way here, as there weren’t many gifts from Turnera that would be sought after in the capital. Once the preparations were complete, Belgrieve took one last look around to ensure he hadn’t forgotten anything. He seemed to be in the clear.

“When was the last time I left the house empty for more than a few days?” Belgrieve ran his hand down one of the support pillars. “I’ll be out for a bit. You’ll hold down the fort, won’t you?”

The small house creaked in response. Belgrieve grinned, gave the pillar a pat, and walked out.

There were thin wisps of clouds that hadn’t been there in the morning, and it seemed even heavier ones loomed from the north. A somewhat cold wind was blowing, and it was becoming apparent that the spell of jolly spring weather would not hold for long.

There were people there to see him off in the backyard, and they talked about all sorts of things. The young men seemed sad that the city girls were leaving, prattling on with despairing faces. Anessa scratched her head with a wry smile while Miriam chuckled. Neither intended to take them too seriously.

It was very well known in the village how clingy Angeline was with her father, so no men reached out to her. Not that Angeline was the least bit bothered; she sat in the wagon, grinning, as she watched Anessa and Miriam handle them.

Will she ever get married like this? Belgrieve grew a little anxious.

Kerry slapped his shoulder with a laugh. “You’re a busy man, Bell!”

“Ha ha, a strange thing it is.”

“Well, take care. I’ll keep an eye on your fields.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. Thanks.”

Belgrieve grinned, patted Kerry’s shoulder, and slowly climbed into the wagon. There was still some pain remaining, and he couldn’t move nimbly. There was plenty of space inside, as their luggage was minimal. Angeline eagerly nestled up next to him.

“Good to go, dad?”

“Yeah, let’s get to it.”

“All right, then onward!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get to it.” Anessa flicked the reins, prompting the horse to start into a slow walk. The wagon creaked as it took off.

Belgrieve leaned out and told Kerry, “I’ll be going now. Look after the house for me.”

“You got it! Have fun!”

“I’m not going to play around,” Belgrieve scratched his cheek with a wry smile.

The carriage left the village, picking up a little speed along the outside plains, and gradually eased into the mountain trails. The roads were poor, so there would be a jolt each time the hard wheels struck a rock. However, the wagon was lighter than it had been on the way there, so they were able to travel faster.

When the slopes were too steep, they had to climb out and push from behind. The horse was, of course, a living being that would stop moving if pushed too hard. These paths will be maintained eventually, and it will be easier on the carriages, thought Belgrieve.

The clouds from the north had not given chase, becoming thinner the further they got from Turnera. Soon, the weather was wonderful.

Belgrieve sat leaning against the back of the wagon, under the shadow of the improvised canopy. Anessa kept hold of the reins at the front, while Angeline and Miriam sat on either side of Belgrieve, having been fiddling with his beard for a while now. Perhaps they found it curious, seeing as they had no facial hair. However, it was ticklish and made him feel restless.

“The beard is rough over here...and fluffy over here.”

“Interesting. Do you do anything to maintain it, Mr. Bell?”

“I’m not that fussy about it... But that tickles. Both of you, please.” Those words only made them laugh, and they were not going to stop. It’s like I’ve got even more daughters now. Belgrieve sighed.

The horse proceeded at a walking pace, but it was still faster than going on foot. At this rate, they would reach Rodina before or just at sunset.

Rodina was the village closest to Turnera. It wasn’t very large, but the nearby acorn forests gave way to a thriving pig-rearing industry, and they were known for their high-quality smoked meats, sausage, and lard. Turnera would trade for these with wool, produce, and goat hides. Their relationship was not purely business-related though, and many visitors from Rodina would come to the fall festival.

Belgrieve, however, had only been there twice: once, when he set off to become an adventurer, and again, on his defeated way back. This really hammered home how rarely he left the village. He knew the area around Turnera like the back of his hand, but the regions beyond the mountains were almost completely unknown. Even his memories of them were vague, so this was a fresh experience for him, and he found himself growing excited in spite of his age.

The sun gradually dipped west, and the shadows stretched out. Despite the spring weather, the wind was enough to make him shudder—it was a wind from the north, after all.

While there was a cloth stretched out beneath him, his bottom hurt if he sat still for too long. He had changed his posture a number of times, while the girls seemed more accustomed to the road. It wasn’t as if it did not hurt for them, and at times, they shifted or got up to move as well, but they did so far less frequently than Belgrieve. In fact, Anessa remained in the driver’s seat, nearly completely still for the entire trip. Feeling as if he was being shown the difference between himself and an active adventurer, Belgrieve smiled bitterly.

It had been quite some time since he had traveled by wagon like this. When it was time to harvest the wheat and potatoes, he would sometimes hop aboard the wagons carrying the crops to the shed, but that was about it.

“You’re all used to traveling, are you? That’s quite something,” Belgrieve said.

Angeline immediately looked boastful. “Incredible, right... Aren’t we amazing?”

“Yeah, amazing.”

Angeline smiled in delight, snuggling up to him and looking at him with upturned eyes. She used the opportunity to nuzzle her head into his shoulder. When he patted her on the head, she looked terribly satisfied.

It was a bit worrisome that Angeline was just as spoiled as ever, but as he mulled over that, he felt a weight from the other side. Miriam was similarly leaning against him. She had taken off her hat before he realized it, pressing her head into his shoulder much like Angeline.

“No fair, Ange. Aren’t I amazing too, Mr. Bell? Why don’t you pet me?”

“Hmm, well, not that I mind...”

He wondered if it was really so great to be patted on the head, but there wasn’t any particular reason for him not to. He stroked her head, and she laughed.

“You’ve got a big old hand, Mr. Bell.”

“You think so? Those are some splendid ears if I do say. Won’t they get cold if the wind hits them?”

Miriam burst out in laughter. “Heh, heh heh heh! Not at all! Hey, try touching them. They’re fluffier than you’d think.”

“It’s true...”

The surface of her ears was indeed packed with short but soft bristles, and were quite nice to touch, like high-class fur. She probably wouldn’t get cold like that—in fact, she was probably better off than the rest of them. Once he knew that, however, he realized how insensitive he had been, and grew a little embarrassed.

“Looks like I really missed the mark...”

“Not at all! I appreciate the concern. Heh heh.” Miriam giggled as she drew closer. She stuck out her index finger, pushing it into his cheek.

Angeline did not seem to take kindly to this. “Merry... Don’t be so clingy with my dad.”

“C’mon, what does it matter? Why do you get to monopolize him?”

“Because he’s my dad.”

“No fair! Mr. Bell, hear me out! You don’t mind having one more child, do you?”

“Huh... Wh-What do you mean?”

“I call foul play. No taking advantage of his kindness... If you want to be my little sister, you must first defeat me.”

“Hey, hey! Aren’t you forgetting I’m the older one?!”

Carrying on this incomprehensible quarrel, the two began pushing at each other. Belgrieve immediately fled to the front of the wagon, whispering, “They really get along, don’t they...ow, ow.” He grimaced in pain.

Anessa smiled from the driver’s seat. “Ahh, what to do with them...”

“Are you getting tired, Anne? Want to change with me?” Belgrieve offered.

“No, no, I’ve always liked this sort of thing.”

“Hmm... Do you like animals?”

“Something like that. Well, it’s like I’ve lived with animals my whole life... I’m used to it by now,” she said, glancing back at Angeline and Miriam’s tussling.

These three really do get along. I’m glad Ange made some good friends. Belgrieve smiled.

They took a break and ate a late lunch, after which they proceeded in earnest, only occasionally stopping to give the horse some rest. It was not long before they had entered the acorn forests.

A veil of darkness was gradually descending, lowering visibility. However, there were people coming and going, and they never lost the path. Acorns let off dry snapping sounds beneath the wheels, empty shells left behind by the pigs. The scent of livestock carried on the wind.

By the time the sun had entirely set, a light in the distance had given way to a village surrounded by a wooden fence.

“We’re here. That’s Rodina.”

“Sigh, that was long.”

They all stretched out their ride-stiffened bodies, filling the air with cricks and snaps. A brief talk with a young man of the watch was enough to be let inside.

Unlike Turnera, which was too far into the remote regions, there were bandits around these parts. Thus, security was strict. The village was frequented by merchants who came for pork, so there was a small inn as well. That was where they intended to stay the night.

Gazing at the village from the wagon, Belgrieve muttered, “I haven’t been here in a while... I don’t remember it at all.”

“How long has it been since you left Turnera?” Anessa asked.

“About that...” He scratched his head. “It’s been over twenty years now.”

“Aha ha, that’s incredible. It really has been a while then.”

“It has... It’s a strange feeling, it is.”

He was sure he’d spend the rest of his years in Turnera. However, since Angeline arbitrarily began calling him the Red Ogre, this led to Helvetica stopping by the village—which then led to talks about maintaining the roads. Now here he was, with a letter in hand, and his daughter and her friends in tow.

I never thought my daughter’s adventuring would take me on a journey too, he mused to himself. He could feel something deep in his bones. The world works in mysterious ways.

The inn was not completely booked, but it had its fair share of merchants and travelers. It must have been dinner time, as the smell of scorched fat filled the air. There was a bar with a dining area on the first floor, where guests could take their meals. Further back, there were communal rooms where everyone would sleep in a huddle, though there were a few private rooms that could be booked on the second floor. It seemed most of their guests were on the poorer side, as there was still a private room available while there was barely any space left in the communal rooms.

Belgrieve insisted on booking a room for the girls, while he would sleep in the communal room, but they were incredibly against it.

“I could never abandon you like that, dad... I just can’t!”

“That’s right, Mr. Bell. Don’t be like that. Right, Anne?”

“Y-Yeah...”

“I mean, there’s only one bed. How is it going to fit four?”

“That’s all right. Dad, you will sleep in the center. Merry and Anne will take the sides, and I will sleep on top of you.”

“Are you trying to cook me to death...?”

“But isn’t it so cold at night? It’s easier to sleep huddled up, I’m sure of it.”

“Merry. Do you honestly think you’ll all fit once I’m in bed?”

“Hm...hmmm.”

Belgrieve boasted a large physique. He was not fat, but he was tall, and trained, and naturally larger than the girls. And the bed wasn’t that large to begin with. It could fit the three adventurers if they squeezed in, but if Belgrieve was in there, it would fit only one more at most.

It was then that Angeline looked as if she had been struck by a divine revelation.

“In that case...me and dad can take the room, while Anne and Merry can sleep with the rest of them...”

“Hey,” Belgrieve prodded her on the head. “Don’t just think about yourself.”

“Aww... Sorry.”

After arguing back and forth, they ultimately settled on his initial plan. Belgrieve would sleep in the communal room while the girls got the private one. In exchange, he would have to stay with them until right before they fell asleep, and Angeline stuck fast to him during that time.

They had dinner in the first-floor dining room. Delighted that she could go on a journey with her father, Angeline drank heavily, growing ever more unsteady and sleepy. The other two were in a similar state. They’re still children, Belgrieve thought, finding the scene a bit nostalgic. It seemed even a high-ranking adventurer could be done in by a drink.

Gradually, the night drew on, and they climbed to the second floor to sleep before it grew late. Angeline teetered on her feet before receiving a piggyback ride from Belgrieve, and couldn’t have been happier.

He grimaced at his aching body as he tucked a drowsy Angeline into bed. Then, he let out a long sigh. “Good night.”

“Yesh, gwood night...”

“Good night, Mr. Bell.”

Belgrieve left the room, got a blanket from the front desk, and headed to the communal room. The fireplace burned hot, and there were pillows littered all around. It was already packed with people in all manner of attire. There were those already asleep, some still chatting, others drinking, and a few playing cards.

He watched his step as he sought out an empty space and sat down. He was by the wall, far from the fire, but there were enough people to make the entire room warm.

Belgrieve slowly removed his peg leg, placing it beneath his pillow. Travelers came in all sorts, and he didn’t want to lean it against the wall only for it to be stolen. He had left his sword and his valuables on the second floor, but he couldn’t quite leave his leg.

One of the drinking men took note of this, striking up a conversation. “You use a peg leg, do you?”

He seemed to be an adventurer, perhaps in his mid-thirties. He was stout, but well trained with thick arms. His dark brown hair was beginning to thin, but the bottom half of his face was covered in a thick beard. While he looked a bit fierce, his eyes came off as affable enough. Beside him, he had his weapon—a battle-ax propped against the wall.

“Yeah, for a long time now,” Belgrieve cheerfully replied.

“You were moving so naturally when you came in, I never noticed. I only picked up on it when I heard it tapping against the ground. I was surprised when I looked down and saw how obviously fake it was.”

“Ha ha, it’s all about getting used to it. I’m just lucky I still have my knee. Without that, I’m sure my movements would be stiff no matter what I did,” Belgrieve said, shifting his right knee around.

The man’s eyes narrowed, impressed. “Sure, but it must have taken a lot of effort to move that smoothly. I’m amazed, even. Truly splendid.”

“You speak too highly of me.” Belgrieve awkwardly scratched his cheek.

The man held out a leather flask of spirits.

“How about it? That is, if you’ve got a palate for grape wine.”

“Thanks, I’ll take you up on that.”

Belgrieve took a mouthful. It wasn’t the most refined of wines, but it was good, with a taste reminding him of his adventurer days. He swallowed, bowed, and returned the flask. The man grinned; he seemed to like talking.

“I’ve crossed many lands as an adventurer. I enjoy traveling, and I especially enjoy challenging esteemed martial artists.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve traveled northern Estogal, from Orphen to Elvgren, and Asterinos as well. I stopped by Bordeaux before I arrived in Rodina, and the adventurers there were wonderfully skilled. Especially the sister of the countess—Sasha, her name was. She possessed a surprising level of skill. I was confident in my own abilities, but I wound up eating dirt. They say she is still AA-Rank, but she’s got talent. She will be S-Rank before long.”

The man happily spoke of his loss to Sasha. I see, so Sasha’s grown stronger, thought Belgrieve. He would occasionally chime in to make it clear he was listening but mostly heard him out in silence.

The man took a swig of wine and continued. “Yes, I heard a rumor in Bordeaux that a master swordsman lives in Turnera. That he never leaves, not wanting a shred of fame. He is called the Red Ogre and wields a fierce sword that lives up to his name. Do you know him?”

All of a sudden, Belgrieve was sweating. His smile stiffened. “No...I’ve never heard of him.”

“Hmm, I see... I was surprised to hear even Sasha Bordeaux could not win against him, and even more so when I learned he was the father of the demon slayer, the Black-Haired Valkyrie. I would never have imagined I would find such an individual living in the northernmost outskirts of the empire.”

“Really...”

“In fact, I’m headed to Turnera to witness his skills firsthand. I heard the Red Ogre had red hair and a false leg, just as you do. To be honest, that is precisely why I could not help but call out. Ha ha ha!”

“Ha ha...ha... What a strange coincidence.” Belgrieve let out a dry laugh. The man still seemed to want to talk, but he told him, “I’m sorry, I’ve got an early morning tomorrow,” and pulled the blanket over himself.

“I see, I’ve got an early morning too,” the man said. He lay down, and was soon snoring in no time at all.

I’m glad he was so frank and dense. Belgrieve shut his eyes, relieved.