Ch. 279

“Don’t think I’ll just listen to all your ridiculous demands. If you’re really going to use me like a slave, then our relationship ends here.”

Zekarda had become a little more docile after deciding I wasn’t an enemy, but he’d had those dirty eyes from the start.

Those fierce eyes—like when he was locked in that iron cage—glared at me like they’d devour me.

‘How cute.’

“Um, both of you, calm down…”

“Fine. I wouldn’t normally, but I’ve grown fond of you. I’ll comply.”

Ash, who’d tried to step between us when the air suddenly turned murderous, wore an even more complicated expression than the time I’d started a fight.

Normally, I would’ve already thrown a punch, or cracked him with the bone in my hand, but he looked genuinely puzzled when I just smiled and backed down.

Hardly anyone had ever bared their teeth at me and lived.

But Zekarda was the only key to reaching the Dark Elf village. If things soured, it would be a hassle.

‘This is what you call a political friendship. I can act rationally sometimes too.’

“We’re friends, friends.”

“That smile… it’s more unpleasant than being used.”

“Misunderstanding. More importantly, are you okay? You haven’t fully recovered yet.”

Zekarda was physically exhausted. He’d only just been freed after being imprisoned, and he’d been injured—nothing major, but still.

“I hate to admit it, but if we have that human with us, it’ll be more than enough.”

“That’s true. You could take on a whole unit, not just slave traders.”

Even though they were talking about him, Rovenin silently kept eating.

He didn’t seem picky—shoveling down even burnt food, and trying to eat undercooked food until Ash watched him and took it away.

What a handful…

“And I can’t enter the city in this state. Those guys took my identification card, and there are other things I need to retrieve. I’m worried they’ve already sold them off.”

Is it harder for other races to enter cities?

This outer village didn’t even have walls, so there were no checks, but the capital was different.

Not a big deal for me, though.

“If you don’t have an identification card, you can solve it with money. Or sneak in.”

“I can’t keep doing that forever, and I don’t have as much human money as you do. I need to get my things back. Above all, I need my weapon.”

I couldn’t find a reason to stop him. Zekarda was as stubborn as I was.

“Do as you please, then.”

“I’ll strike and take them back before they get rid of my things. I need to hurry, in case they move their base.”

“Are you close to Helikke? I’m staying there.”

“Not far. Anyway, it’ll be quick if I travel by Wind Spirit.”

“Nice…”

I’m the only one without a Wind Spirit.

“If they’ve moved elsewhere, I’ll track them down and wipe them out.”

“It would be good to hurry.”

As I spoke, I finally noticed Zekarda’s beggar-like state.

Of course he looked like that—he’d been stripped of everything—but he was barefoot without even shoes, and he was wearing nothing but a robe Ash had lent him over his rags.

As his master, I should at least give him something.

I rummaged through my bag and pulled out a few unused items.

They were things I’d taken from a pickpocket who’d once tried to steal from my Magic Pouch.

Ever since I’d been robbed while carrying a sword on my back, I’d been making active use of my Magic Pouch.

“What is it? Are you giving it to me?”

“The master is responsible for the welfare of his slave.”

“I told you not to call me a slave…”

“Oh, I’ve got weapons too. You can’t go wipe out slave traders without a weapon. Is a one-handed sword okay?”

After handing over shoes and a belt, I dug out the swords rolling around at the bottom of the bag.

As I pulled out sword after sword from a pouch barely the size of two palms, I felt like a magician doing door-to-door sales.

“Do you have a greatsword?”

“I’ve got lots of daggers and longswords, but a greatsword… hold on.”

“I usually use two greatswords.”

“So you’re a dual swordsman?”

“Longswords are inconvenient in the jungle.”

Come to think of it, my jungle tribe big sis, Anellia, also wielded dual swords.

I remembered her blades weren’t that long, and I rummaged around for something similar.

“Will this do? But there’s only one.”

I’d picked up one of Magicoss’s test pieces, so there was no scabbard—just the sword.

It wasn’t decorated at all, and at a glance it looked like a cheap mass-produced blade.

Zekarda, who clearly hadn’t expected much, took it with an indifferent face—then his expression turned serious.

He changed his grip several times, stood up, and even swung it around.

“What is this? This ridiculous level of perfection! No matter how you grip it, the balance is perfect. It’s not too light, but it’s still sharp… and—this—does it contain Mithril?”

“It probably does?”

“I’d believe it if the Dwarf chieftain made this.”

“A Dragon I know said it had a slight defect and was going to throw it away, so I grabbed it before it got melted down.”

“A defect… when it’s this perfect? Who would throw something like this away?”

“A Dragon I know. His hobby is making swords. He even has a forge at home.”

“Ha. You’re joking.”

He didn’t believe me. Honestly, even I could hear how unbelievable it sounded.

“…Ash? This might sound shameless… but do you have anything you can give Rovenin?”

“What?”

“Something to replace Tenebra…”

“There’s no way I’d have something like that.”

Even as Ash asked, he didn’t look hopeful at all. And yes, I was the shameless one.

‘Am I crazy, giving something to that guy? What are the odds he uses it to cut me down?’

“I see…”

[Master, doesn’t Ash seem gloomy today?]

[Now that you mention it… maybe?]

[Don’t you know why?]

‘Do I know…? I do.’

Those pitiful eyes made it obvious.

It was clear I’d grown at least a few romance cells. Out of the swords I’d pulled out for Zekarda, I held out the prettiest one—the most decorated—to Ash.

“Here! You take one too!”

“…I’m fine.”

Was that not it? Was he sulking because only Zekarda got a sword?

Confused, I held out another, but Ash still shook his head.

A man’s heart was unknowable.

[Poor Ash…]

—

The vegetables we’d eaten for breakfast had been given to us by the villagers, and they said they’d asked for something else in return instead of gold.

It was simple: get rid of a bear that kept showing up at the village’s only water source.

That request, of course, was meant for people like Ash or Rovenin.

“Aren’t these villagers too shameless? They give us a few vegetables and ask us to hunt a wild beast?”

I’d followed along because they were going to deal with the bear, but after hearing the details from Ash, I couldn’t help grumbling.

“It probably means there’s no one else to ask. The officials are too busy with the festival to pay attention here… and from what I saw, there are only old people and children in the village.”

“That’s the villagers’ problem.”

“They said all the young people left for the city, and they’re struggling, so how can we refuse?”

For Ash, hunting a bear or catching a rat was the same easy job, but to me, this was a bad deal.

It felt like volunteer work.

Trading necessities for labor was common between travelers and villagers, but this kind of price-destroying “deal” wasn’t right.

“I don’t know market prices that well, but I think you should get at least a whole pig for hunting a bear. Even better if it’s cash. Hiring a mercenary group would cost at least a few gold, right?”

“Geenie, it’s an easy task for us. Why bother calculating profit?”

‘It becomes clear when I look at you. The kinder you are, the more you lose. You’re too kind for your own good.’

“I can tell that when you say ‘kind,’ it’s not a compliment.”

The village was tiny, so it didn’t take long to leave it behind. There was only one forest path leading to the well, so there was no need to wander.

As Ash walked up the worn path between dense trees, he suddenly turned to Rovenin.

“Rovenin, remember this. Our goal isn’t to kill the bear. It’s to scare it away.”

“Huh? Wasn’t it a bear hunt?”

“We’re not killing it?”

When I followed Ash, Rovenin followed too. Zekarda had stayed behind in the empty house, saying he needed to contact his hometown.

“…You two really get along well in situations like this.”

“Ugh. Don’t say that.”

“I see.”

It was true. Sometimes we did.

Rovenin and I exchanged one disgusted glare, then split apart with Ash wedged between us.

“The villagers said the same. If it’s too difficult to get rid of the bear, they want us to at least chase it away.”

“Isn’t that just because they don’t know us? With our strength, I think we could even catch a Dragon. A bit of an exaggeration, though.”

[That’s right. We could take on a deficient Dragon like Magicoss.]

With me, Ash, Rovenin—and even Rai—it was a team that could, in theory, even take on a Dragon.

Whether we’d win was another question, but the fact that there was even a chance meant we were a force no one could dismiss.

“What I mean is, there’s no need to kill it. Bears are smart. If it decides there’s a predator at the well, it won’t come back.”

“Why bother? It’s easy to just kill it.”

“It’s not easy, Geenie.”

Why did that suddenly irritate me?

Ash stopped and looked straight at me, his eyes tightening.

Was it after I released Zekarda yesterday—after Zekarda gave me a kiss of gratitude—that Ash had been acting a little strange?

“You treat everything too lightly. It’s not that easy…!”

“There’s no need to think about it so hard.”

“Geenie. The moment you start taking things lightly, you’ll drop your guard. Thinking that killing one person or two people is the same is dangerous. Even ordering the Dark Elf to wipe out the slave traders… I wanted to oppose it.”

“Is that why you’ve been acting weird?”

So he’d been suffering on his own the whole time.

Unlike me, Ash was a healthy person who hated killing, and he also knew I was someone who wouldn’t listen no matter how much he tried to stop me.

That the more he tried to stop me, the harder I’d push back.

“Rovenin… are you really sure you want to follow him there?”

It made perfect sense that Ash looked like that—because Rovenin had joined in on something Ash already wanted to stop.