Chapter 1: The Weather Was Great, despite the Early Summer Sun

The weather was great, despite the early summer sun. It was strong, but not yet blinding. The vegetables in the fields took this sunlight in and grew rapidly. Chickens raced around, while the shepherds led their dogs to the nearby fields where they had left their sheep and goats to roam. After squatting down to pluck some weeds from the furrow, Belgrieve, with sweat glistening on his brow, stood and stretched out.

“Ah... So hot.” Summer had yet to enter full swing, but it felt much hotter when he moved his body. The sunlight did not help.

Before long, Kerry’s son Barnes rushed over in a panic.

“Wh-What are you doing, Mr. Bell?!”

“Hmm? Barnes? Well, as you can see, I’m weeding...”

“No, you’re not! Our farmhands can do that!”

“I had time to spare...”

“Our folks are going to run out of work at this rate.”

“Yeah, well, that’s true, but...”

“C’mon. My old man told me to get you. Over here, come on.”

Belgrieve had a wry smile on his face as Barnes herded him under the shade of the gazebo. Kerry was working there, looking through his ledger. He was quite a bit rounder than he had been in the past, a full-bodied man in high-quality clothing. By now, he was a manager rather than a farmer, and he would rarely work in the fields himself.

Kerry was known as the wealthiest man in the village. His fields were sprawling; his sheep numbered a hundred and fifty, his goats one hundred; and he had opened workshops to produce textiles and cheese, providing work for the rest of the village. It was in Kerry’s field that Belgrieve had been plucking weeds. He hadn’t been hired to do so, but he would often help with other fields when he wasn’t busy with his own, and Kerry’s was one of them.

Kerry grinned when he spotted him. “Yo, Bell. Let me guess, you were weeding our fields again.”

“Pretty much. I saw it needed tending, so I...”

“Ha ha ha, don’t worry about it! But, you know, Bell, you don’t got to work the fields anymore, you get me? We’d all gladly chip in to feed one more mouth. Between your work in the mountains, and with the fiends—hell, you teach the kids too. We’re all grateful.”

Belgrieve awkwardly scratched his head. “I didn’t really do it for that.”

“Aha ha ha, that’s what I like about you! Oi, Barnes! Fetch the wine, would you? Cheese too!”

His son rushed off.

“Hey now, you’re drinking in the middle of the day?”

“I’m not slacking off. I tried a new process on the cheese. That peddler who dropped by town told me about it.”

“Hmm... Then what about the wine?” Belgrieve asked, looking at the earthenware jug Barnes brought in. It didn’t have a label.

Kerry laughed. “Truth is, I’ve been raising a grapevine for some years now. Thought it might be the birth of a new industry here.”

“Wait... You mean on that new plot!”

“Now you’re getting it!” Kerry chuckled as he poured the glass. The crimson liquid leaped and bounced around the glass.

Six years prior, Kerry had devised a plan to cultivate a patch of wasteland near the village. The soil quality was terrible and a lizard fiend had appeared in the middle of the process, so many thought the plan had reached an impasse. However, the fiend was dealt with by Belgrieve and Angeline. The wasteland was steadily cleared and cultivated until it had become a splendid field, though Belgrieve never knew it would be for grapes.

The wine was a bit too tart, but the flavor was deep and enjoyable. “Not bad at all.”

“You think so? Then do you think it’ll sell?”

Belgrieve took another mouthful and swished it around his mouth. “It’s a bit too sour. But just a little work, and it’ll sell fine.”

Kerry looked quite happy to hear that. “That’s a relief. The grapes are still small, and I’ve not got a lot of them, but I think I’ll plant a few more seedlings this year. Could you help me then?”

“Of course I will... The cheese is pretty good too.”

“Isn’t it? Have as much as you want.”

For a while, the two forty-year-old men munched on cheese and sipped wine across from one another. Then, Kerry spoke up as if it suddenly occurred to him: “How’s Ange doing?”

“Can’t say. Haven’t heard much this past year.”

“Hey now, you okay with that? Sounds pretty iffy.”

“No news is good news, as they say.”

“I see... You trust her a lot then.”

“Ha ha. I mean, last year she mentioned that she’d become S-Rank. Haven’t got another letter since. I’m sure she’s busy as all heck.”

“Is S-Rank something amazing?”

“Yeah, that’s the highest in the guild.”

“That abandoned kid, eh... She’s really something.”

“Yeah... I’m proud to be her father.”

It had been five years since Angeline left for the capital city of Orphen. Belgrieve was about to turn forty-two. While Kerry had grown fat, his own body had firmed up instead, and his muscular build did not give off the slightest sign of age getting to him. However, the wrinkles in his face were deeper; his hair had grown out, and he now bundled it in the back. His red beard and mustache grew thicker each year.

Barnes shuffled towards them in a hurry. “The caravan’s here, pops! Also, there’s a letter for Mr. Bell! It’s from Ange!”

“Oh! That’s wonderful! Good timing, eh, Bell?”

“Ha ha, almost like they planned it.”

Belgrieve took the letter with a wry smile and broke the seal. Kerry and Barnes anxiously watched him read it to himself.

“I see... I see.”

“Wh-What did she say? How is she? She doing well?”

Belgrieve lifted his face with a grin. “She’s been given an extended break, so she’ll be returning at the end of the month.”

“Oh...!” Kerry shot to his feet. “Big news! Great news! I gotta prepare something.”

“Hey, hey, don’t make such a big deal out of it.”

“What are you saying, Bell? It’s the first time in five years. You should be a bit happier.”

“Ha ha, it just doesn’t feel real to me.”

But still, he tried picturing it. If five years had passed, Angeline would now be seventeen. She was surely taller by now. What about her short hair? Had her face grown a little more adult-like? Did she have a boyfriend now? He had always enjoyed watching how all of the village’s children grew, but even more so his own daughter. Then it was, indeed, cause for celebration.

Once the joy had hit him, Belgrieve filled his glass again and held it high.

“Cheers. To Ange.”

“Praise be to the spirits, and the Great Goddess Vienna!”

Maybe it wasn’t so bad to drink midday after all. At least, that was what Belgrieve was starting to think.

○

In the city of Orphen, at the counter of an adventurers’ guild at a downtown street corner, a black-haired girl was laying her anger bare. The lady running the desk was pale, quivering. The building was filled to the brim with adventurers, yet every one of them seemed on edge, silent with stifled breath.

The black-haired girl was also an adventurer, wearing light armor for mobility and bearing a sword at her side. Her hair, which was long enough to fall to her hips, had been artlessly tied back, and her eyes—somewhat droopy and sleep-deprived—were the same shade of black. Those black eyes were seething, as she made no attempts to conceal her rage; her glare pierced right through the receptionist.

“I remember you saying I could take a break tomorrow,” the girl growled after a moment.

“N-No, um.” The receptionist seemed to be scared out of her mind. “Th-That was the plan, but there have been numerous reports of a Calamity-Class fiend around the town of Garuda...and Angeline, you’re the only one who can handle it...”

The black-haired girl was Angeline. It had been five years since she left Turnera. Now seventeen, she was taller and had begun to look rather grown-up, though some childlike innocence still lingered on her face.

Ange continued to rage, “Why do I have to go? It’s just a Calamity-Class; any A-Rank and above should manage. You’d go so far as to revoke my precious holiday just to rope an S-Rank in?! This is tyranny...!”

“Th-Th-The thing is, an AA-Rank party headed out a while ago, but they failed...”

Angeline slammed her fist against the counter. Cracks spread across its marble surface, reaching as far as the floor. The receptionist had nearly fainted by then, but she just barely held on.

“Such incompetence... Each and every one of them... They’re all dragging me down because of their failures...!” Emanating a pitch-black aura, Angeline muttered what sounded like curses under her breath. “S-Rank? So what? It’s been one hard request after the next... I don’t even have time to write to dad, never mind returning home! Now my long-awaited time off is crushed by a sudden request...! I’ve been doing this nonstop for almost a year now! Why do Calamity-Class fiends keep popping up...?! And why are they left unchecked...?! What the hell are the rest of them doing?!”

Angeline looked over the other adventurers, who were silently trying to make themselves look scarce. They awkwardly turned their backs to her and averted their eyes.

She violently scoffed, then smacked the counter again. The cracks spread even further.

“This is pathetic!”

“H-Hold on, Ange. Calm down.”

“Sh-She’s right. There’s no use in taking it out on her.”

Two girls who had been anxiously watching the exchange finally stepped in to stop her.

Angeline heaved a deep sigh, looked at the receptionist, then barked, “The details! Out with it!”

“Y-Yes ma’aaam!” she whimpered, frantically ferrying the paper listing information on the request over to Angeline.

“Hmph,” Angeline scoffed, then turned on her heels. “Merry, Anne. I’ll be at the usual bar.” Then she left the building. Silence descended in her wake before the building erupted into noise, as though they had been holding their collective breath until she left. The receptionist held her chest and heaved a deep sigh.

“Th-That was terrifying... I’ve never seen her that angry before.”

“Sorry. She’s not usually like that. Right, Anne?” said a girl who gave off an air-headed impression. Her light-purple curly hair grew out wildly, only contained by her pointed hat, and she wore a robe with blue as the base color. Her name was Miriam, and she was an AAA-Rank magician. She was a year older than Angeline, but as she was shorter, she looked like the youngest of the group.

“Yeah... I’ve never seen Ange like that either.” The girl with short, chestnut hair nodded. She wore sturdy clothes that offered a full range of movement and carried a bow in her hand. She was Anessa, similarly AAA-Rank, and specializing in the bow. Anessa was the oldest, at nineteen. She was levelheaded more often than not, which meant it was up to her to stop Angeline and Miriam when they ran amok. They were both Angeline’s party members.

After consoling the receptionist, the two of them made for the establishment where Angeline awaited them. They found her there at the bar, just as disgruntled, chowing down on roast duck. Thanks to the unfathomable ill humor she exuded, there were no customers to be found around her in spite of how busy it was. The girls smiled bitterly, then took their seats.

“You’re late.” Angeline pouted.

“Sorry, sorry.”

“Hey, was the break really that important to you?”

Parties containing S-Rank adventurers were dragged all over the place to take on high-ranking fiends, harvest rare materials, and clear high-level dungeons. Adventurers were generally thought to be freer—practically self-employed, even—and they took jobs and vacations on their own schedule. However, this was not the case for S-Ranks. There were fiends that only the higher ranks could deal with.

Fiends came with their own ranking system; any fiend above A-Rank was considered Calamity-Class, which meant B-Rank adventurers and below would not stand a chance. An A-Rank adventurer or higher would have to deal with it.

The higher she rose in the ranks, the more it came to pass that the guild would unilaterally shove work onto her rather than her choosing it for herself. It was essentially like she worked for the guild now.

At A-Rank, the concept of vacation still existed, though she hadn’t found the time for an extended leave. Lately, however, the frequency of Calamity-Class fiend encounters had risen sharply.

They were never that numerous before, and the system which bound high-ranking adventurers to their duties had been little more than a formality. It was easy to take a break. Not to mention that a city on Orphen’s scale boasted numerous S-Rank adventurers—the loss of one should not have posed much of a problem. Now, however, the number of fiends had increased, and there was no room for any leeway.

Angeline had been making a big deal about her vacation for quite a while now, and in the time since had hunted many formidable fiends and cleared many a difficult dungeon. This just had to happen after she had completely cleared her schedule; the girls couldn’t blame her for being in a bad mood. However, this was on another level. They hadn’t known her for long, but neither could remember ever seeing her like this.

Angeline irritatedly stuffed her cheeks with duck, violently washing it down with a swig of wine. Then she took a deep breath and fell to the table, defeated.

“I thought I’d finally be able to see dad...”

“Your father...?”

“You bring him up now and then. What sort of person is your dad, Ange?”

“He’s kind, strong, and cool. The best dad I could ask for,” she said, her eyes wistfully trailing off into the distance—though some might have interpreted her expression as one of ecstasy instead.

Miriam and Anessa smiled wryly and reached for the drinks that were brought to them. After a sip, Miriam asked, “Does that mean he’s an adventurer?”

“That’s right... My dad taught me the sword along with what it meant to be an adventurer. But I’ve never managed to land a hit on him before.”

“Huh...”

“R-Really?”

The girls were frozen in place. When Angeline first appeared at the guild five years prior, a group had picked a fight with her, partly just to tease a little girl. She beat them down on her own.

That alone wouldn’t have been anything special, but those adventurers were a B-Rank party. B-Rank was just a stone’s throw away from the upper echelon of adventurers. They were solidly mid-tier, their skills leagues beyond the average street thug or brawler.

However, those B-Rank adventurers found themselves no match for a twelve-year-old girl who hadn’t even registered yet. This astounded the adventurers of Orphen, and the girl became the subject of much attention.

In less than a year, the girl was B-Rank. In another four years, she was S-Rank. Her moniker—the Black-Haired Valkyrie—was known throughout the dukedom, nay, the entire empire. The point being, Angeline’s skills had been abnormal when she was only twelve, but her father must have been even more so if Angeline had never managed to strike him.

“Your dad sounds pretty incredible...” Miriam mused.

Angeline’s eyes lit up, and she gleefully bobbed her head. “Yes, incredible. But he’s not just strong, he’s amazingly kind too...”

“In that case, is he someone famous?” Anessa asked.

To this, Angeline puffed out her chest as if she had been waiting her whole life for that question. “That’s right. The man whose face can silence crying children—the Red Ogre Belgrieve. That’s my father.”

“...O-Oh, I see.”

“Uh huh...”

Who? both Miriam and Anessa thought. But Angeline sounded so proud, they hesitated to say they didn’t know of him. They both concluded that he had to be someone famous, and they had just never heard of him. After all, there were skilled fighters famous in other countries who were unknown in the dukedom.

However, and this went without saying, Angeline was telling a complete fabrication—though in truth, she herself was incredibly serious about it and didn’t see it as such. Monikers sprang up when adventurers performed great feats and were earned from those around them. Having retired at E-Rank, Belgrieve never had a moniker. However, as she saw her father’s red hair and the spirit with which he swung his sword, Angeline arbitrarily came to the conclusion that he would have to be called the Red Ogre no matter what.

In short, her father was so strong and kind that she simply could not accept the fact that no one knew him, or that he was wasting his skills in the countryside. This was a misplaced display of filial piety. Now that bragging about her father had restored a bit of her mood, Angeline unfolded the request form.

“Garuda,” Miriam muttered as she looked at the map. “That town’s three days away by carriage.”

“Yes... And a wyvern to boot. That’s a pain. What’s the plan, Ange...?”

The second she looked at Angeline, Anessa inadvertently swallowed her breath. Angeline was glaring at the picture of the wyvern, her expression the spitting image of a demon from the deepest pits of hell.

“So you’re the one who ruined my vacation... Unforgivable. I’ll mince you and feed you to the pigs...!” Letting off the pitch-black aura again, Angeline gallantly stood once more. “Off we go... It’s just a flying lizard. We’ll blast it straight out of the sky...!”

Her two companions could do little but wordlessly nod.

A week later, the wyvern fiend that had terrorized the town of Garuda was instantly beheaded by a black-haired adventurer who appeared like a bolt from the blue.