Chapter 20: It Was Dead Silent in the Room

It was dead silent in the room. Belgrieve woke up early, as was his habit, but everyone else was still sound asleep. He quietly made his way out to take a walk around Rodina.

The pain in his body had softened a bit but had not gone away. It really was dragging on to a troublesome degree.

He passed by farmers headed off for work and saw the smoke of cooking breakfasts rising. The town was no different from Turnera in that regard.

He could smell pig here and there—a little different from sheep and goat. He could not tell whether it was their body odor or their excrement, but it stung his nostrils a bit as he was not accustomed to it. Come to think of it, didn’t it smell like this when I last came to Rodina? he reminisced.

He was back at the inn by sunrise. The travelers who needed to leave early were up and eating. While he returned to the communal room, he did not see the man he had spoken to the previous night. Seeing as he wasn’t in the dining hall either, perhaps he had already left. Belgrieve felt a little bad for deceiving him, but there was little he could do if the man wasn’t there.

Climbing the stairs to the second floor, he headed for the girls’ room. Before he reached it, the door swung open, and Angeline popped out.

“Good morning, dad.”

“Ah, morning Ange... Were my footsteps loud?”

“Yes...on the second floor, especially.”

His wooden leg made quite a loud sound when it tapped against a wooden floor, even more so when there was hollow space beneath. Belgrieve stroked his beard, frustrated.

“I should wrap the tip in cloth next time...”

“Heh heh.”

Angeline clung onto him. She breathed in deeply as if taking in his scent. Then, she lifted her face, looking ever-so satisfied.

“All right... Breakfast time!”

“Sure. What about Anne and Merry...?”

When Belgrieve mentioned them, they peeked their heads out of the room.

“We’re awaaake.”

“Good morning Mr. Bell.”

“Yeah, morning. Let’s have breakfast and go.”

It was not a specialty product for nothing—the pork in Rodina was delicious. There wasn’t much fresh meat at the beginning of spring; most was pickled or smoked, but even that was plentiful.

Toasted, thick-sliced ham with the season’s first watercress and pickled mustard seeds was sandwiched between two buns. Unlike Turnera’s simple cuisine, this was a substantial, hearty meal. Of course, it had a price tag that matched, but there was little need to worry about money as far as S-Rank adventurers were concerned. They could partake in good food from the break of dawn.

Belgrieve feared what would happen after he grew accustomed to eating like this, but this was also the thrill of the journey. His normal life was so simple, he felt he would incur heaven’s wrath if he indulged too much, the thought of which made him shudder a little. The girls, however, stuffed their faces as if it was nothing.

After breakfast, they rested a bit, sipping on floral tea. Belgrieve wanted to swing his sword, but he recalled the man from the night before. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one, and there would be some trouble if someone noticed him.

Belgrieve didn’t hate sparring matches, but he also did not want to stand out as the Red Ogre. First and foremost, he was not aware of having done anything to deserve the name, and disliked accepting accolades that did not belong to him. No matter what anyone said, it was simply unsettling. It felt like he was betraying their expectations.

He also felt sorry for sending the man on a fool’s errand, but travelers were a once-in-a-lifetime encounter. Surely, he did not want any undue trouble either. Belgrieve silently sent an apology.

Soon enough, they were on the road. The horse had rested and eaten its fill of fodder, and was brimming with energy, and the wagon proceeded at a leisurely pace. From the crack of dawn, the weather remained favorable. The sunlight was a tad blinding, but it was not so bothersome once it was intercepted by the canopy.

It was two full days from Rodina to Bordeaux. There were more mountain roads along the way, which would eat up a bit of time. They were precisely where Angeline had saved Seren. It was a more heavily traveled road there, so it was not as bad as the stretch from Turnera to Rodina, but it was still a slow trek.

One day was spent crossing the mountains to the next village. They left the next day and were about to reach Bordeaux, when the sky was gradually overtaken by thick clouds, and it finally started to rain.

Early spring rain meant large droplets, and these splattered against the canopy. It was not rare for it to snow in the northern regions, but when it rained, it was a drizzle at most. It was unusual for it to all come down at once like this.

The winds were weak, so not much water got into the wagon, but it was still wet. Droplet struck upon droplet, forming a mist that lingered. The horse had to slow its pace as well.

“Good grief, what have we here?”

“Urgh... It’s getting cold...” Angeline restlessly clung to Belgrieve. Her hair was damp. There was steam rising from the body of the horse pulling the wagon. By the time they reached Bordeaux, shivering, the sun had already set, and the rain carried on.

Bordeaux was the largest city north of Orphen. This was mostly because it was where the Bordeaux House, the house of the regional lord, resided. There were rural farmlands spread around it, and the city, surrounded by stone walls, was lively. It was not as large as Orphen, but the people within were just as animated, if not more so. Perhaps the talents Helvetica had gathered were properly doing their jobs.

They were reluctant to visit the lord’s estate looking soggy and miserable. For the time being, they booked a room at an inn to rest and agreed they would drop by the next day. Sure, they had sat through the entire trip, but the shaking of the cart had taken a surprising toll.

The inn they found in Bordeaux was incomparably larger than the one in Rodina. The first-floor bar was rowdy—this was evidently the haunt of adventurers, and they could see many who looked the part.

The owner showed clear disdain as he welcomed the sopping wet party, but this changed completely after Angeline sullenly flashed her S-Rank plate.

“Please, come in. I insist.”

They were led to a room with their bags. Angeline was looking at Belgrieve smugly. She’s learned to be calculating. Belgrieve sighed and followed. The room was decently sized with two beds. They would be able to sleep two per bed like this.

Thinking back, Belgrieve often slept on straw and floor, and he was surprised at how long it had been lately since he had slept on a bed. The softness flustered him when he touched it. Would he even be able to sleep?

They left their things, changed out of their drenched clothes, and returned to the first floor. It was considerably boisterous there. A group from the wandering tribes was playing tunes, and this was mixed in with the clinking of tableware and the clamor of conversation, laughter, and yelling all at once.

“It’s lively.”

“Yeah... I’m hungry.”

There were no empty tables, so they lowered themselves down at the counter. The inn wasn’t just large, it had its facilities in order. It even had an expensive magic fridge. The menu was fast, and included seafood even when they were so far from the sea. However, the dish names were meaningless to Belgrieve. He had seen some of them before, but they had hardly lingered in his memory.

He mainly left the dinner order to the others. Meanwhile, he asked the bartender for Bordeaux’s specialty ale, and some of a small anchovy dish—that was one fish he vaguely recognized. Ale was grain-based alcohol. It had a bitter taste different from wine and cider, and he was a little taken aback by it.

The anchovies were small, salted fish and were apparently served alongside boiled vegetables and bread. They were slightly fermented, lending a strange pungency to their flavor. This too left him shocked.

Angeline giggled. “Dad, those pickled anchovies are an acquired taste...”

“You could’ve told me that earlier.”

“Hee hee, I wanted to see how you would react.”

“I’m sorry... Some people like them. I thought you knew what you were doing.”

Belgrieve shrugged. He didn’t find them particularly appetizing, but he ordered them, and so he would eat them. Back when he was an adventurer, he had to eat whatever he could find, and he had eaten all sorts of things. It seemed that his taste buds had settled down over the years.

As he swallowed an anchovy with a sour look, a guest sitting beside him piped up.

“Hmph, you don’t understand the glory of anchovies? This is why you’ll always be a bumpkin.”

He thought it was about him, so he looked over to see that the young girl next to him was looking the other way. She seemed to be around ten with long hair as white as snow.

“Are you listening? This depth of flavor is something you can’t get anywhere else. Calling it salty or stinky... Why, you’re just announcing to the world that you’re from the middle of nowhere, Byaku.”

She was, luckily, talking to someone else—a boy, likely a travel partner. The boy grimaced, clearly not having it. He was around fifteen or sixteen, his hair a similar white, though completely unkempt. Unlike the girl, he gave off a somewhat dirty impression.

“Not my problem... I know awful when I taste it. Sure, you lived in Lucrecia, so you might be used to it.”

Lucrecia was where the main temple of Vienna was situated, bordering the Rhodesian Empire in the southeast. Its theocratic state centered on its clergymen had lasted for more than two hundred years. Its territory consisted of a peninsula jutting out from the continent, as well as the surrounding islands, and it had a deep connection to the sea. As it was the main base of the Church of Vienna, with adherents all throughout the continent, it had a powerful sway over all its neighboring powers. There was a never-ending list of messy political rumors and incidents that sprung up because of this.

Lucrecia was a considerable way from Bordeaux. Belgrieve was impressed to hear that the young pair had spanned such a distance.

The girl placed an anchovy on her bread, took a bite, and started talking with her mouth full. “Well, the taste is nowhere near the anchovies in Lucrecia. Ahh, I want to go back, but alas, here I am. In the north. In the middle of nowhere. For what?”

“Shut up and eat... You’re saying too much.”

“Hey, Byaku! What attitude are you taking towards your master?!”

The girl’s bar stool shook back and forth in her rage. It must have been an old chair, as its joints detached with a snap, sending her toppling backward.

“Eek!” Her eyes opened in fear.

Belgrieve immediately reached out, propping her back up to stop her. Not knowing what was going on, she opened and closed her mouth blankly.

“Are you okay?” Belgrieve asked. The girl turned to him in shock. Her pure white skin turned a little red.

“Th-Th-Th-Th-Thank... I did not need your assistance!”

Confusingly enough, her gratitude suddenly turned to anger. Belgrieve cocked his head, but he wasn’t the least bit irritated as he was dealing with a child.

The boy took over from there, lowering the girl onto the ground. He didn’t crack the slightest smile, but he offered a polite nod.

“Sorry about that... She’s terrible at communicating.”

“Hey, look who’s talking! You are trying to tell me I’m—mmff.”

The boy cupped a hand over her mouth, heaving a fed-up sigh. They’re like siblings, Belgrieve observed with a smile.

“What’s wrong...?” Ange peeked over.

The moment he saw her face, the boy furrowed his brow. “Don’t mind us. We’re going, Your Holiness.”

“Mmff! Urgh! Mmmf!”

The boy left, with the girl he held under his armpit thrashing about. What a lively duo. Belgrieve chuckled and rubbed his beard.

Around that time, there was an angry yell from the other side.

“The hell’s your problem?! Quit pushing your luck! Do you even know who I am?! I’m Gort, the goddamn Thunderclap!”

An adventurer was causing a stir. There was the look of a drunk in his eyes, and Anessa, whom he was picking a fight with, was tiresomely waving a hand.

“You’re just a frog in a well. I’ve seen loads of people like you.”

“Don’t screw with me! Think I’ll hold back just because you’re a woman?!”

The man reached for the sword at his hip—but before he could take hold of it, Anessa had swiftly extended her arm, grabbed his wrist, and twisted. The man yelped.

“Picking a fight without knowing your opponent’s strength. You’re not going to live long like that, Mr. Thunderclap.”

Seeing Anessa’s composure remain firm, the surrounding adventurers laughed and cheered. It seemed the man was notorious already. His face contorted in shame, and he immediately took off.

Miriam grinned, prodding Anessa. “Trying to look cool, huh.”

“Shut it. It’s those sorts that ruin the reputation of all adventurers...”

“A swordsman who loses to our archer in close combat...” Angeline cocked her head. “Does he really have a moniker...?”

The bartender across the counter laughed. “Of course not. He’s a C-Rank, that moniker is just what he calls himself. Granted, he’s still somewhat skilled...”

“Hmm...how uncool...” Angeline muttered and took a sip of wine.

Belgrieve felt a strange sense of embarrassment. Oh, daughter of mine, did you not do the exact same thing for me?

The adventurers, impressed that a fair maiden had handled a man so easily, began treating them to drinks, and it was heating up around the counter.

“You really gave it to him. You an adventurer, missy?”

“Yeah, in Orphen. This is my party.”

“Wow, a party of beautiful girls! Just what I like to see!”

“You gotta be high rank to do one on Gort like that. A? AA?”

Anessa glanced at Angeline and Miriam, getting their confirmation before saying. “Me and her, we’re AAA. The black-haired one is S-Rank.”

“You gotta be kidding...”

“No...no, wait. A black-haired girl... You mean the Black-Haired Valkyrie?”

“The demon slayer?!”

Angeline nodded, looking somewhat annoyed, and then it was like a bomb had gone off as the bar burst into noise. The arrival of an adventurer at the rank they all dreamed to be—and it wasn’t just the adventurers, the bartender was delighted as well. This would raise the establishment’s prestige.

One after another, mugs and cups were placed in front of the three of them; everyone wanted to take home a story of treating an S-Rank party to a drink. And beside the lionized girls, Belgrieve drank his ale in peace. Once he had grown accustomed to it, the shockingly bitter taste became fairly enjoyable.

One of the excited men took a seat beside Belgrieve.

“Amazing. I never thought I’d ever see her in person, not in all my life. Hey, don’t you think so?”

“Hmm? Yeah, I guess.”

Angeline turned. “Dad...I can’t drink this much. You have some too.”

“You got a lot... Daddy can’t drink this much either.”

The man beside him stared at him blankly. “You’re the Black-Haired Valkyrie’s father?”

Before he could reply, Angeline triumphantly leaned in. “That’s right... My father, the Red Ogre Bel—mff.”

Belgrieve quickly covered her mouth, playing it off with a laugh. However, he was evidently too late. The man’s eyes pierced into him.

“Red hair...and a peg leg! Then—then you really are the Red Ogre! A man who can lead even Bordeaux’s strongest, Sasha, by the nose!”

“B-By the... No, I’m not that...”

“Heeey, everyone! We’ve got a loaded house today! Not only do we have the Black-Haired Valkyrie, we’ve got the Red Ogre too!”

Attention gathered on Belgrieve all at once, and he recoiled in a panic, only to be surrounded in no time at all. From what he could piece together from the fragmented cries of onlookers, Sasha had spread the news so far and wide that there wasn’t an adventurer in Bordeaux who didn’t know the Black-Haired Valkyrie or the Red Ogre.

She really didn’t have to... Belgrieve held his head. Maybe I should start wearing a hat, he seriously considered. Trying to make himself scarce, he closed in on his proud daughter’s ear and whispered.

“Ange... Didn’t I tell you not to spread it?”

Angeline suddenly gasped, as if she had completely forgotten. “That’s right... I’m sorry.”

But it was already too late. He had the feeling it was too late the moment he decided to travel with her, but even knowing it was inevitable, it didn’t sit right in his stomach.

Around the time the undeserved praise and expectations were becoming unbearable, the crowds parted with a loud, “Pardon me!”

“Angeline! Master! Miriam and Anessa!”

They turned their heads to a familiar voice, and there stood Sasha, out of breath. She must have run through the rain, as her bangs were dripping. The adventurers were astir.

Sasha briskly walked over and took Angeline by the hand.

“I ran as fast as I could once I heard the rumors you were here! Don’t be so distant! You came without a word to us! If you’d just sent a note, we would have welcomed you in!”

“Well... We were wet and dirty, so we thought we’d wait until tomorrow.”

“Is that it? What does it matter if Bordeaux’s benefactor is sopping or filthy?! Please, everyone, come to our manor! I want to introduce my elder sister!”

“Hmm... What do we do?” Angeline glanced at the rest of them.

Anessa and Miriam shrugged.

“If she says it’s all right, then why not?”

“Yeah. I’m sure the beds are fluffier there.”

“Dad?”

Belgrieve thought a bit then nodded. “I came to deliver a letter. If I’m being invited, I have no reason to decline.”

Most importantly, he wanted to escape from this unsettling place.

In any case, they headed to the Bordeaux Estate. That was more proof than anything that they were the real deal, and the adventurers became even more excited still. The innkeeper was irritated that he missed out on having the inn where an S-Rank party and the Red Ogre stayed the night, but Sasha paid a bonus on top of the cancellation fee, so he sent them off without a complaint. He would probably have a good sales pitch by the next morning.

It was still raining outside.