Chapter 45: 45 Episode 44 "From the Poverty Cave"

It has been a while since I separated from Kalia and moved my residence to the poorhouse.

The reason why I moved to the favela was because it was the best place to see what was going on in Galuamaria and to find out what the heraldists were up to.

The heralds are trying to use the power of the inhabitants to take over Galuamaria.

But it's not going well. Of course not. People who live in constant poverty and put their energy on the chopping block don't have the will to do anything big.

I know that all too well. I've felt it. Yeah, I didn't want to know that.

But that's why Largud Ann agreed to let me live here. There's little chance of establishing a partnership, but it's not a bad choice if it keeps me connected to the denizens of the poorhouse. For me, as a herald, moving to the ghetto was a good thing.

Of course, that's just for me and the heralds. Not necessarily for everyone, though.

It would have been very inconvenient, especially for those who had the temerity to accompany me.

What happened to my brother ...... and sister Lugis?

The sun has already risen and she's still sleeping. He says he can't sleep at night because of the noise. That's classy.

I spill the beans while playing bets in a crumbling tavern with Wood, an impoverished denizen with a massive physique that's probably two sizes bigger than me.

Yes, for me, this is the best place among the current options. After all, I didn't grow up in a good neighborhood. Even if I don't feel good, I can go to sleep even if I don't feel good, even if the bugs are coming out, even if the sheets are hard, even if the lustful voice of a prostitute creeps in at night.

But Wood's sister, Fiorato La Volgograd, was a different story. I didn't expect her to move here after moving out of the dormitory at the academy, but even with her passion, the drastic change in environment seems unbearable.

It's been a while since he came here, but he still looks sleepy during the day.

Hey, pig. It seems the goddess of fortune has gone away.

"Sorry, brother Lugis, I'm playing two roles.

"Sorry, brother Rougis, two roles." In a relaxed tone, Wood opens the bill in his hand. The smile on his face is quite gentle for a denizen of the poor. This is probably due to his original nature. In a way, it's a blessing and a curse to live in this place.

The only people who live in the ghettos are those with glazed eyes and starvation-stricken mouths. Everyone is desperate to live today.

When I asked him for an ale in exchange for the bet, his thick lips parted into a smile and he drank it in one gulp.

But well, it's good to have this kind of leeway once in a while. Oh, it's peaceful. It's really peaceful. This peace is only possible because of the aid money we receive from the heraldists via Largud Ann.

--Boom, boom, boom.

From the bedroom upstairs, I hear a slight scream and a sound as if the floorboards are about to crack.

Apparently, he's finally awake. It's just like every other day. Wood looks at me as if to ask, but I sigh loudly in return.

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I'm not sure if you've seen this before, but I'm sure you've.

I woke you up, princess. It's no wonder you didn't wake up.

I don't know how many times I've asked and answered this question. I feel like I've been repeating myself to the point of exhaustion. Apparently, Fialaat is a woman who wakes up very badly. I hadn't noticed that on my previous trip, but I guess that's how she is.

Her black hair was finally tied up in a bun, but she was still pouting and pouting, as if she had a lot of frustration bottled up inside her. Sitting down on a nearby chair, Fialaert began to let out a few words at the top of his lungs.

"You're not the one who asked me to come, after all. Then can't you at least wait until people wake up in the morning?　I feel like I'm being neglected!

I bit into a piece of bread for a late breakfast, complaining that it was too hard, and Fialaat barked in my ear.

Don't be so extravagant. It's a luxury enough here.

If it weren't for Largud'an, Fialaat probably wouldn't even be able to live here. The bed was one thing, but above all, the food was different. Even a piece of bread is not something you can eat every day in the poorhouse.

"Well, I'd wait if I could, too. I'd wait if I could, but I'm not surprised if the devil whispers in my ear when I see a beautiful young lady sleeping next to me.

He cocks his shoulders in an exaggerated manner, chewing tobacco in his teeth as he draws a new bet.

Whether he was dissatisfied with the words or not, he fell silent and slowly took a piece of hard bread into his mouth.

The scene reminded me of a squirrel or some other small animal eating something. It would have been more endearing if he had kept his mouth shut. However, when I hear his voice, I can't help but remember what he used to do in his travels.

"But ......, brother... I've never seen a foreigner before, but I guess they're not so different from us.

In response, Wood draws a card and says with a raised eyebrow. His big nose twitched. Apparently, the hand he got was a pretty good one.

"Well, after all, there are trade and other ties between this area and the Borvat dynasty to the east. You've got blood in your veins. And they're human. It's a lot different when you're a forest elf.

I've got a good hand, too. I scratch my chin, let the smell of chewing tobacco pass my nose, and try not to show it on my face as I speak.

"What? I'm sure you're not the only one.

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It was Fialaat who took the opportunity to speak. His ears flickered with interest. Wood's thick lips open and his voice changes color as he considers his cards.

Elves live in the woods, and they eat travelers who wander in, right? That's scary.

How is that possible?

Of course, I'm well aware of the prejudices and misconceptions that exist about elves. Wood's is too extreme.

Elves. A forest dweller. One who has a spirit as his master.

There are many different names for them, but they basically do not interact with humans on an individual basis, let alone on a national level, and because of this, they are subject to various prejudices and misunderstandings.

In fact, until I saw them with my own eyes, I thought that the basic ecology of elves was green-skinned creatures that jumped from the trees in groups.

In reality, what can I say? Unlike humans, who were born by the gods, they were said to have been created directly by the hands of spirits, and had beauty like a sculpture.

It's not something I want to remember, but yes, even that princess who accompanied me on my journey to salvation. She was so beautiful that it was obvious that she was out of human form. The moment you saw her, you would gasp, and if you were a priest, you might even kneel down and thank the gods that you were there to see the culmination of her beauty.

I'm sure that no one will believe me when I tell them how beautiful they look, no matter how much I write about them after the race of elves dies. That's the kind of thing. It's the kind of thing you have to see to understand.

You're right. ...... Well, I've only glanced at them in the past. They're not good people. If at all possible, don't go onstage and don't take your turn until the curtain goes down. How about wine and cheese for the prize?

Yes, when it comes to beauty. Its character is unspeakable. I don't want to talk about it. They're just as prejudiced as we are, rationally affirming all manner of discrimination.

And above all, their values are far from ours. I don't think I can live with them honorably. The Saviors were doing pretty well.

Fialaert's face clouded over as if he hadn't imagined it, and Wood, after a moment's pondering, nodded to raise the stakes. Both players would have good hands. Then it would be no fun not to raise the bet.

Finally, Fialaert finished half of the bread. Wood and I opened our bills on the table. Then, from far away, a piercing sound struck my ear.

--Pooh-oh-oh!

It was the sound of a trumpet. It was the sound of a trumpet, and it sounded good in my ears, though it was somewhat cracked. I remember this sound well. Cereal, Wood's sister and a denizen of the poorhouse, used it to summon people.

No, it's a bad day. God must have known the outcome before he even looked at the tag.

I open the card, I get four. Wood gets five. I shake the knife at my waist and leave my seat, drawn by the sound of the trumpet as I order wine and cheese.

"Lugis' brother, .......

Even though he was the winner of the bet, Wood remained seated at the table, his face pale with fright. His limbs were trembling in a way that did not match his huge body. He knew what the sound of the trumpet meant.

But his knees were twitching as he tried to get up from his chair, a sign of his determination, or perhaps a sense of responsibility. His big nose is shaking and his breathing is getting ragged.

I don't care, Wood. It's probably just the end of the Guard showing off their vapidity in the poorhouse. We don't need two or three of them to show off.

He smiled as lightly as he could and looked into Wood's eyes as he said this. Wood's eyes showed a complicated coloration, relieved but also somewhat apologetic. He sighed in his heart, "I don't know how you've been able to live with that all these years.

He then told Fialaat to continue with his breakfast, but his words were immediately cut off in midair.

Why?　I don't want to. No. You're not the one who said that. You said I was an accomplice, that you wished you could take my hand. What's the point of not following me?

You sound like you think you're saying the right thing, but you're really wondering why you're saying such an unreasonable thing. Such confident words came from Fialaat.

He let out a sigh in his heart, in a different way than Wood did, and moved his tongue as if to convince her.

Your hair's too conspicuous. If you were in the Guard, some of them would have seen you before.

Yes. Even though this city-state is a trading center, Fialat's dark hair and matching eyes are too conspicuous.

If the Guardsmen who would be coming would notice Fialaert and report it to the top, it would be a bit troublesome.

Because although she came to the favela voluntarily, there are rumors of kidnapping in the city. If she was seen here, there's no telling how she could be used.

I'm sure Fialat is not oblivious to that fact. Of course he understands. But his brilliant mind, probably aware of all this, came up with the words.

"So you're saying that Lugis doesn't need me?　Then let's go home like you wanted. I'll stop by the guardhouse or something.

Fialat said, looking me in the eye with a refreshing smile on his face.

Big. Yes, a sigh so loud it threatened to overflow from my throat, but I forced it down.

That would be a threat. Isn't that what people call a threat? Fear Alert.

Go get the ...... hood. At least keep a low profile and keep your breath.

Putting the half-eaten bread on his plate, Fialaat went upstairs to get the food. He narrowed his eyes at the strangely good mood on his back.

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