Chapter 32: Why Did I Ever Think to Become an Adventurer?

Why did I ever think to become an adventurer? The red-haired boy never had a clear answer to that question. Everyone had their own dreams and ambitions, and it wasn’t as if he was trying to get rich quick. When his parents died and he was left alone, he just knew it was what he had to do.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” the boy said with an awkward laugh.

The elf girl stared at him with her clear, emerald eyes, a slight smile on her face. “I see... Yeah, me too. I couldn’t think of anything else.”

“That’s pretty funny. You’re an elf; I thought being an adventurer would be the last thing on your list.”

The elf girl giggled at this. “Well, I’m not the first one. Don’t you know about the elf hero?”

“More or less. The thing is, I’ve never seen an elf apart from you. It has to be pretty rare for an elf to go adventuring.”

“I wanted to see the world. To go to all sorts of places and meet all sorts of people. Somewhere far away.”

“From my point of view, elven territory is somewhere far away, you know. I always wanted to check it out.”

“Oh really? You’ll find it’s a very boring place, I assure you,” said the girl as she happily sipped her mulled wine.

The boy grinned, propping his head up with a hand. “I don’t know. It would all be fresh to me. I’m sure I’d love it there.”

“Hmm... I guess it can be rather exciting to venture into the unknown. The elves have things only elves know, but so do the humans.”

“That means we can teach each other.”

“Hee hee, that sounds lovely.”

Then a cold wind blew from behind them, and the pub was suddenly abuzz with excitement. The red-haired boy turned just as some S-Rank adventurers stepped through the door. They were already surrounded by young adventurers badgering them for stories. The stocky man with a military cap and cape let out a grand laugh, while the tall, bearded one beside him closed his eyes, clearly fed up with the situation.

The elf girl let out a deep, longing sigh, brushing her silver hair aside.

“The Destroyer and Silverhead... Must be nice, being S-Rank. I want to be one someday. Then I can go even farther away without anyone bothering me.”

“Ha ha, I’m sure you can make it.”

“And you?”

“Me? I’m not so sure... It’s not like I’m anything special.”

The boy played it off with a chuckle, but the elf girl pressed her hands against his cheeks. “So quick to belittle yourself. It’s a bad habit of yours. I hate that fake smile you put up.”

“Ah... Sorry.”

“You’ll need more than a ‘sorry’ for that.” She frowned. “How about you pick up the tab today?”

“Uhh... Well, not that I mind, but...” The boy scratched his head.

She let her frown slip away as a mischievous laugh spilled from her lips and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s do our best tomorrow.”

“Yeah... But they sure are running late.”

The boy glanced around, somewhat bashfully. His party members hadn’t arrived yet—a fact which hadn’t bothered him moments ago, but now he was suddenly embarrassed to be alone with this girl.

“What’s wrong? You’re fidgeting.”

The elf girl peered into his eyes. Her pale skin was flushed peach-colored from the mulled wine. Her strangely sweet breath tickled his nose, flustering him further. He could feel his earlobes heating up.

Her emerald eyes glinted puckishly. “You can be pretty cute, you know that?”

“Please don’t tease me.”

The red-haired boy chewed over words left unsaid as he turned the other way.

○

Before daybreak, Belgrieve took Duncan and Graham around the village. The morning haze was especially thick that day, and while the light trickled into the sky, they could hardly see what was ahead of them.

“It will be hard to walk today.”

“Yeah... It’s like walking through a cloud. Let’s proceed slowly.”

The mist exacerbated the unpleasant dampness. Belgrieve’s bangs stuck fast to his brow as if they had been weighed down.

When the sun did eventually rise, solitary beams of light pierced the haze. The fog quickly lifted, bringing vivid life to the dull scene around them. The dew-dropped plains glistened as the morning rays bounced all around them.

Graham let out a long breath. “A beautiful sight... You don’t see this often in elven lands.”

“Oh? I heard your territory is abundant in nature’s blessings. Is that incorrect?” Duncan asked.

“It’s mostly forest,” said Graham. “There are hardly any gentle plains to watch the morning sun from.”

“I see...”

“I like forests, don’t get me wrong. But after visiting all sorts of places, there are many other things I would rather see.”

“I understand well. That’s the joy of the journey.”

Belgrieve quietly listened to the two travelers talking. His trip to Bordeaux, while short, had definitely been fun. There was always an irresistible charm to leaving the same old sights behind. I can’t leave Turnera for now, but maybe when things settle down... Where should I go next?

Soon the haze had cleared entirely and the sun had risen over the thin clouds veiling the distant mountains. A blue sky spread out overhead, the faint moon being the last vestige of the night. The three returned to the village.

A few days had gone by since Graham first visited Turnera. Belgrieve’s house, now filled with men, took on a different air than when Angeline and her party members had visited. Following Belgrieve’s schedule, they would go on patrol every morning and evening and spend some time after that training.

Graham’s sword skills were not flashy—he moved only as much as was necessary, using his explosive resonance with his blade to launch fearsome blows. This is close to what I’m aiming for, thought Belgrieve. Every morning and evening, he would spar and struggle to chase after the technique.

The villagers were initially taken aback by the old elf, but with Belgrieve and Duncan as their go-betweens, they were slowly and timidly making contact. Graham was quiet and soft-spoken, never affecting an overbearing attitude. He didn’t answer questions with the abstruse philosophical responses the elves were known for, and the villagers were gradually warming up to him.

The elf princess had yet to appear. According to Graham, elves spent most of their lives in forests, and a good number of them could become quite disoriented when they left the woods behind. Perhaps the princess was one of them.

It was still sheep-shearing season, and Kerry’s house was boisterous every day. Once again, Belgrieve was tasked with looking after the children, and he was watching over them with a baby in his arms. The village youths were gradually becoming deft hands at their craft, and the sheep were running amok less frequently.

Duncan and Graham were out slaying fiends. The fiends had yet to leave the forest thus far, but once they were numerous enough, there was a high chance they would overflow to the outside. They needed to keep their numbers in check.

Kerry came over, wiping his brow, and took a seat beside Belgrieve. “Good grief, it’s especially busy this year.”

“Right, one last push until they’re used to the job.”

“Ha ha, no doubt about that. Hey, Bell, you think Mr. Graham likes this place?”

“I think so. At least, he doesn’t feel negative about it.”

“I see... It’s kinda gratifying for an elf to be fond of us.”

“Despite that, you’ve yet to have a proper conversation with him. Quit acting so reserved.”

“I mean, hear me out... I have no idea what to say. Unlike you, I can’t swing a sword.”

“Just have some small talk with him. Just because he’s an elf, that doesn’t mean he’s always thinking about things that are beyond you. He eats and sleeps just like us.”

“Then next time I invite you to drink...please bring him along.”

“Got it. I’m sure he’ll be happy.”

Turnera lay at the northern edge of the dukedom. The elven territory was right across the mountains, but those northern peaks were tall and steep, and hardly anyone wanted to brave the journey. What meager trade did exist with the elves was all carried out far down the eastern road where the passage was less dangerous.

For this reason, one might say that Turnera was both the closest and furthest from elven lands. The kids in the village would grow up hearing stories about the lives of elves just over the mountains. Naturally, they were happy to meet one of those beings that had only existed in legend, but they didn’t know how to interact with him.

The sun was climbing high in the sky, and it was almost time for lunch. It was the right time for Duncan to return, but something must have been keeping him. He had Graham with him, so there was little to worry about, but his absence still weighed on Belgrieve’s mind.

He returned the baby that had begun crying out of hunger to its mother and was helping to set the table when a young farmhand raced in.

“Mr. Bell! Mr. Bell!”

Belgrieve frowned. “What’s wrong? Did a fiend come out?”

“Nah, that ain’t it! Come with me! Another elf! A woman this time!”

Belgrieve followed as an uproar brewed behind him. He cut across the path, leaving the village. A girl stood where golden fields of harvested autumn wheat met with green fields of freshly planted spring wheat.

I see, she’s an elf. Her eyes were a dull, faded turquoise, while her long, glossy silver hair was pulled back artlessly behind her head. Her chest was clad in a cloth wrap and she wore a fur coat over that. A slender sword hung from the belt of her shorts, with which she wore a pair of high-laced boots. This was a rare outfit for elves, who tended to stray from clothing that exposed their skin. Elf appearances did not necessarily match up with their ages, but this elf looked more like a girl than a lady.

What’s more, she was clearly displeased. She scoffed after taking just a glance at Belgrieve, glaring at him sharply.

“To run away as soon as you see my face. Humans are rather rude life-forms, you are.”

Belgrieve sighed and lowered his head. “My apologies. We’re not used to elves around here, please forgive them.”

“So who are you? The boss man?”

“My name is Belgrieve. I’m just a farmer.”

“Ha!” The girl gave an amused laugh. “Where in the world do you find a farmer who comes fully armed? Don’t mess with me, old man.”

Belgrieve placed a hand on the sword at his waist. “Sometimes I switch my spade for a sword when I have to defend myself.”

“Hmm...” She looked at him defiantly. “Defend yourself, eh. So you’re here to duke it out with me?”

“Not at all.”

Belgrieve hurriedly placed his sword, sheath and all, on the ground to signal his lack of ill intent. The elf girl had reached for the hilt of her slender sword by then, but she released her stance, unconcerned.

“Tsk. You’re no fun.”

Smiling bitterly at this detestably belligerent girl, Belgrieve said, “I take it you’re the daughter of Oberon of the Western Forest?”

The next instant, the girl closed in fast as the wind and grabbed Belgrieve by his shirt collar. Her sharp eyes pierced through him as she radiated a surprising degree of malice. Even Belgrieve gulped, feeling somewhat overpowered.

Still, he stared back at her firmly and asked, “So it’s true?”

“Hey, where did you hear that, you bastard?”

Her forceful, threatening question was drowned out by a rumbling sound. The girl opened her eyes wide, frantically backing off and holding her stomach.

“Y-You! Pick a better time, dammit!”

She beat at her belly angrily, but it cried out again.

“Are you...hungry?”

“I...I’m not! It’s not like I ran out of lembas and haven’t eaten anything since yesterday... A-And even if I am hungry, what’s it to you?” the girl wailed, her face red as she tried to smooth over the situation.

Belgrieve smiled. “We were just preparing for lunch. If it pleases you, we would be greatly honored by the attendance of an elven princess.”

“Grr... Y-You leave me no choice.”

The elf princess looked incredibly frustrated, knowing he was being tactful, but she could not win against her hunger. She obediently followed Belgrieve into the village.

○

With things as they were, Belgrieve led her to his house; the villagers would have been silent as though at a funeral if he brought her to Kerry’s place. He couldn’t bring himself to do that, especially when the girl was in such a bad mood. If the villagers shut their mouths out of fear, that would possibly provoke her anger.

The house was a bit of a mess, so he sat her down at a table in the yard. The meal he sprinted to Kerry’s house for was still piping hot when he returned—a meat and vegetable stew accompanied by thin bread spread with goat butter.

At first, the princess ate slowly and warily, but she gradually began to eat more voraciously and abandoned all caution. She was clearly famished.

They had nothing that could be described as a conversation, though her expression softened somewhat after eating her fill. Perhaps her frenzy had been driven by her empty stomach.

Sitting across from her, Belgrieve watched as her eyes drowsily closed. According to Graham, this girl had been going around subjugating demons. The intensity she had as she grabbed him was certainly impressive, but knowing that she had nearly starved after running out of food, he was surprised she had been able to travel at all.

He couldn’t tell if she was daring or just reckless. She spoke quite roughly as well, hardly fitting the noble image he had of a princess, elven or otherwise.

“Did the meal suit your tastes?” Belgrieve asked.

This question jolted her out of her trance, and she quickly opened her eyes before she could doze off in her seat. “It was...decent, I suppose.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Tsk.” She awkwardly scratched her cheek.

“If I may be so bold, may I ask your name?”

“Before that—how do you know about me, old man?”

“Sir Graham stopped by. He is currently staying in this village.”

The elf princess jumped to her feet. “M-My granduncle?! You gotta be screwing with me!”

She hurriedly turned to run away but was interrupted by a low voice.

“Marguerite.”

“Urk!” The princess froze. She timidly turned towards the voice to find Graham looking at her indignantly. Duncan was behind him with a conflicted expression on his face.

Graham silently beckoned to her. The elven princess bristled, walking forth so timidly it was as if her brazenness had been an act. She couldn’t bring herself to meet Graham’s straightforward eyes head-on.

“Honorable granduncle... What are you doing here?”

“I knew you were following the mana of those things.” Graham folded his arms and sighed. “It may have indirectly been my fault... But what are you trying to accomplish? Oberon is very worried. Please don’t go off on your own.”

The princess—or rather, Marguerite—raised a sullen face, this time glaring straight at Graham. “Father is worried? Likely story.”

“Don’t say anything thoughtless. There isn’t a father in the world that doesn’t worry for his child.”

“There is—my father, for one. He doesn’t see me for me. He only thinks about the western tribe.”

“That is how a king must be. Please understand how Oberon feels.”

“So it doesn’t matter how I feel? I should just shut up, and let myself be sheltered from the world?” Marguerite was growing increasingly irritated. “You’ve got another thing coming, granduncle. I’ll make him recognize me whether he likes it or not. I’ve already taken out three of them. I got the one killing the south forest, and the one in the abandoned mine.”

“Marguerite... It doesn’t matter how many times you defeat them. You’re barely scratching the surface. There’s no value in fame you did nothing to earn.”

“Not my problem. That’s how you made a name for yourself. I’m not spending the rest of my life in that puny forest. I want to see what it’s like far away,” Marguerite said and then turned. “You’ll have to recognize me too if I defeat this one.” She kicked off the ground and raced away like the wind.

Graham closed his eyes. “She always pestered me for tales of adventure, but I never should have indulged her...”

“Sir Graham... Are you all right?” Belgrieve reservedly approached the man.

“I’m sorry you had to witness something so unsightly.”

“Not at all... Are you related to her?”

“She’s my grandniece. Oberon is my nephew...”

This came as a shock to Belgrieve—the blood flowing through the elven hero’s veins belonged to royalty.

However, the elves were generally a peaceful and spiritually oriented bunch. They were the furthest removed from adventurers whose actions were driven by gold and fame. How had Graham been treated then, after choosing that path? How did he feel now, confronting Marguerite who ran away because she admired him so?

Maybe that’s why a dark shadow falls over his face from time to time, Belgrieve reasoned.

Graham sighed. “I bear some responsibility, in any case. I have to chase after her.”

At this, Duncan stepped forward. “Then so shall I!”

But Graham shook his head. “This is my job. I can’t bring you into a...family dispute.”

And with that, Graham was gone. After seeing him off, Belgrieve turned to Duncan.

“You took your time today. What happened?”

“After we sent the young ones home, Sir Graham ventured farther into the forest. However, it seemed a peculiar mana was twisting the space, and we returned after he determined it would take a long time to reach the center.”

In short, the forest was well on its way to becoming a dungeon; things could easily take a turn for the worse. But Marguerite had headed off to the forest with Graham following behind. Marguerite had already defeated three demons, and Graham’s skills went without saying.

Doesn’t look like there’s any place for us, Belgrieve thought as he stroked his beard. “I don’t want to say it, but...maybe it was divine providence that Sir Graham and Marguerite came here...”

“I was thinking the same. No demon would be able to stand against those two. Still, that elf princess is quite the skilled girl. I would love to spar with her someday!”

Belgrieve smiled wryly, seeing that Duncan was his usual self. He envied the fact that even this wasn’t enough to throw him off.