Kyle, who had taken a seat by the window, smiled at the scenery outside. His cheerful voice caught the attention of Ruon, who was sitting across from him. Ruon glanced through the slightly open window.
Under the red sky where the sun was beginning to set, a lush road and a stream were visible. The leaves of the majestic birch trees, which stretched their branches as if to touch the water, swayed with the wind.
It was a peaceful landscape that suited the tranquil evening.
Strabo, who was too short to see well outside, craned his neck and said.
“Are those birch trees? Should we peel off some of their bark later? If we dry it and brew it into tea, it can act as a painkiller.”
Kyle shrugged his shoulders.
“Do we need a painkiller when we have Igor? All he has to do is put on a bandage and say a prayer. Right?”
At that, Igor, who had been resting his chin on one hand, glared at him with wide eyes.
“That’s a reckless thing to say. How can you compare asking Mother for a miracle to haggling for fruit at the market?”
“Really? I don’t know any better.”
Kyle, who scratched his head awkwardly, turned to Ruon, who was still looking out the window, and asked cautiously.
“Hey, Ruon?”
Ruon turned his head, who had been watching a young woman holding a lyre in her arms walk along the road toward the inn.
“Did you call me?”
Kyle bit his lower lip, as if he was unsure what to say.
“Is there still no reaction from the holy sword?”
At that question, Igor and Strabo stopped talking and turned their heads slightly.
Before Ruon could answer, the owner came over and put some drinks and food on the table.
The owner pointed to the cooked pork with a gleeful expression.
“This is a dish made with fresh meat that I got from the butcher today. The meat is tender and the taste is of course...”
He backed away with a sheepish expression when he saw that the group had no interest in his food.
Then Ruon opened his mouth.
“I’m glad there’s no reaction.”
He untied the sword sheath from his waist and leaned it on the table. Then he lifted the handle slightly.
Igor made a low sound as he saw the sword blade that was slightly exposed above the sheath.
“...It’s gotten worse.”
The sword blade, which should have been faintly glowing, was stained with a sinister gray.
At that moment, a malicious whisper that Ruon couldn’t understand pierced his ear.
He secured the sword, which could no longer be called a holy sword, to his waist and quickly recalled the past few days.Gét latest novel chapters on nov(e)lbj/n(.)c/om
It hadn’t started badly.
They had managed to get out of Bern safely, thanks to their quick movement before the situation got complicated.
The soldiers, who had been yawning all the time before the shift change, only threw a few formal words at the group who said they would pass through the gate as soon as dawn broke, and didn’t try to stop them.
Only one soldier, who was worth his pay, noticed the blood on Ruon’s face, who was wearing a cloak, and tried to say something, but Kyle gave him a few coins and he swallowed his doubts and shouted.
Pass-
The real problem erupted from an unexpected place. It was the holy sword.
The holy sword, which had absorbed the power of the apostle, seemed to have increased its power at first, but soon the sword blade began to cloud, and in the end it started to spew all kinds of profanities whenever he held it.
It was needless to say that it had lost its role as a guide.
“I went there once to get some equipment. I couldn’t get in because I didn’t qualify, though.”
As he said that, Ruon recalled the dwarf city he had visited a long time ago.
Unlike other cities where various races lived together, Roverduke was mostly inhabited by dwarves.
Of course, Ruon didn’t know why that was.
But he did know that the equipment made in Roverduke was of exceptional quality.
There was a saying that you could easily see artifact equipment in Roverduke, which was hard to find even if you searched with your eyes wide open in other places.
Ruon, who had relied a lot on the performance of his equipment before he became superhuman, had also visited Roverduke with the hope of getting some artifact equipment.
Of course, he was turned away at the entrance because he didn’t qualify.
As time passed and he became strong enough to crush rocks with his fists, he naturally forgot the name of the city. He said to Strabo.
“Go on.”
Strabo gulped down his beer as if his throat was burning. He said.
“There’s nothing more to say. Even if they have a weird temper, my family is skilled enough to fix that sword that’s gone crazy. That’s all.”
Igor looked puzzled.
“Strabo, I don’t mean to disrespect or belittle your family’s skills, but... the holy sword is not in a state where it can be improved or worsened by hammering. This is a result of the divine power and the demon’s power intertwining...”
Before he could finish his sentence, Strabo snorted.
“Igor, just like you can draw on Mother Tivela’s power as a priest, we have blacksmiths who can wield Duermyr’s flames! They’re not just ordinary heroes who melt metal and pour it into molds and hammer it like crazy.”
He said so much that Igor had nothing more to say. He shrugged and closed his mouth.
Then, Kyle tapped Strabo’s drooping shoulder lightly and asked.
“Then isn’t that a good thing? Why are you so gloomy? You can see your family and fix the holy sword. It’s killing two birds with one stone.”
At that, Strabo shuddered as if he had been struck by lightning.
“Shit, shit.”
He spat out a curse word and then giggled.
“The problem is, even if the sword is fixed, I might die. Ah, I thought I would die gloriously in the hands of the demon lord... but I’m destined to be hammered until my head breaks.”
Igor tilted his head.
“Didn’t you say that before? You ran away from the forge... Is it related to that?”
Did he know how to make that face?
Ruon chuckled as he watched the dwarf nodding his head silently.
He had never seen Strabo show any signs of depression until now, so he was sure there was something going on.
Come to think of it, he was the protagonist of an absurd combination of a dwarf and a druid, so it would be strange if he didn’t have any stories.
He had been babbling about adventure and romance and whatnot.
Ruon said in a joking tone.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ll help you avoid being famous for hammering. You’re right, we should die by Velducias, right?”
“...Ruon, are you trying to comfort me right now?”
Strabo shouted as soon as Kyle’s worried words ended.
“That’s right! We should die by his hands! That’s romantic!”
Kyle shook his head.
“I was worried for nothing.”
Then, a pleasant ringing sound filled the inn.
They turned their heads to the source of the sound and saw a woman standing on a small stage with a lute in her hand. She smiled faintly as she felt the people’s eyes on her. Then, she plucked the strings with her slender fingers and started to sing in a soft voice.
Strabo, who was soaked in the lyrics that praised the great deeds and tales of the old heroes, murmured with moist eyes.
“...If we kill Velducias, will our deeds become a song?”
He nodded his head as if he had made up his mind.
“Friends! Our next destination is Roverduke! Let’s go and fix the holy sword first. Damn it!”