Chapter 32: Desire Invariably Flows West (1)

[32] 5. Desire Invariably Flows West (1)

Essier, the city where our mercenary group settled, is a characterless place.

Grey walls slowly crumbling in celebration of long-lasting peace, and low roofs giving way to an equally grey sky above.

Tough weeds sprout through cracks in the poorly maintained roads, and the faces of those who walk upon them are as rough as those weeds.

It’s a collection of images that spring to mind when you mutter the word “frontier”. That, in a nutshell, is the scenery of Essier.

However, God has a twisted sense of aesthetics and never created anything truly devoid of character. And that included Essier as well.

Winter.

Although it’s technically part of the south, but Essier’s winter is no less harsh than that of the north.

When snow falls in Phoenix, which is only two days away by carriage, a blizzard rages in Essier.

Heavy snowfall is considered mild here. It’s not unusual for hail the size of a child’s fist to fall.

While other seasons were ordinary, winter alone was unusually harsh, like an ill-behaved youngest child.

To explain how such a phenomenon occurred, I’d have to talk about the incidents that Feya, the Captain, and I caused, but…

Ah, forget it.

Anyway, winter in Essier was severe. And because of that, proper attire was extremely important in this city.

I’d even threatened our men, saying that if they didn’t want to lose their fingers, then they should at least wear gloves.

But even while saying that, I had thought it didn’t apply to me.

My bronze hand, coated with a temperature-regulating magic, didn’t need any sort of protection.

Right, my bronze hand…

“Ah.”

I looked down at my right hand. It, now made of flesh and bone, was resting on the railing.

To be precise, it was on an iron railing.

An iron railing that had endured Essier’s harsh winter all night.

With a sinking heart, I tried to lift my hand. A terrible pain immediately shot through my brain.

…It’s stuck.

This was the consequence of stepping out for some fresh air as soon as I woke up, when I was still half asleep.

I rubbed my face and then shouted loud enough for the entire inn to hear,

“Baldy!!”

***

Clevens looked at me as if I were an animal.

“Are you really that stupid?”

Avoiding his gaze, I looked at my right hand. My hand, wrapped tightly in bandages, looked incredibly awkward.

“You try living without a hand for 18 years and see how you do. This wasn’t intentional, you know?”

“What do you mean, ‘not intentional’, you asshole. Do you know how many times you’ve come to me this month alone?”

“…”

7 times. Knowing how guilty I was, I kept my mouth shut.

Of course, it didn’t last long.

“Well, I didn’t know that my original body was this weak…”

Just from staying up one night, my eyes were dry and irritated, and after being outside for a short while, my hand had gone numb, unable to move.

It was the inconvenience of a real body, an inconvenience I had long forgotten, It wasn’t exactly a welcome reminder either.

“Anyway, keep that bandage on today.”

“Can’t you just heal it with a holy magic, like last time?”

“That’s exactly why I’m doing this, your bad habits seem to be getting worse. You need to experience the discomfort of being injured so you’ll stop doing idiotic shit like this.”

I couldn’t help but frown.

“No, baldy, I have a lot of work today. I have a mountain of documents to fill out and letters to send…”

“There’s no need for you to worry about that.”

A bright yet calm voice. I turned around, and sure enough, it was Irene.

She placed the folder she was holding in front of me.

“Here’s this month’s financial statements, profit and loss statements, inventory of winter supplies, manpower status and personal income statements, and the draft of the contract with other guilds and vendors. Ah, and this is a draft of the complaint letter for the lord who’s been delaying payment.”

Checking the thickness of the folder, I looked at Irene. She smiled brightly.

“You just need to review and sign them.”

Closing my eyes, I thought about the past four years.

The number of days I’d spent racking my brains with a pen in my hand were twice the number of days I’d spent fighting with a sword in mine.

Our uneducated men were no help whatsoever, in fact, they only created more work.

Clevens, who wasn’t entirely ignorant of this stuff, I tried asking him to help me with the paperwork, but he proved he was beyond help when he stained half the documents with wine.

It truly had been a lonely battle.

Opening my eyes, I looked at Irene. It was as if a halo was shining behind her blue hair.

“…Ms. Irene, may your life be filled with the Heavenly God’s boundless glory and mercy.”

“I’m starting to get used to your exaggerated expressions. I told you, you don’t have to be so grateful. I’m just doing this because I’m freeloading here, it’s the least I can do.”

That’s right.

Irene was staying with us after the incident with Clara. It was an inevitable outcome.

Irene had to get the return stone back, and our Captain, who has the return stone, was cracking cultist skulls in the west.

But the journey to the west is dangerous, and Irene didn’t have any travel expenses left. So she could only wait for the captain with us.

“And…”

Irene’s face suddenly turned red.

“…This is also because you saved me from a pathetic death.”

Is she talking about the time she passed out from drinking on the streets and almost froze to death?

Once again, I was in awe of how someone as put-together as she could get so messed up.

And at the same time, I saw an opening.

“In that case, would you be interested in working for our mercenary…”

“No.”

“…Even if we offer you double what you were getting before?”

“Does that include a pension?”

This was my 13th attempt at recruiting her, but once again, I was thwarted by the financial power of a national administrative agency.

Seeing her firm stance, I could tell she had already made up her mind.

But I was a persistent man.

I’d finally found someone, and a highly skilled one at that, who could take the paperwork off my hands. There was no way I was going to let her go.

I answered, “Alright.” outwardly, and started brainstorming ways to persuade her.

I’ll have to threaten the captain with the return stone when she gets back.

“Ah, lastly, this is from Clara.”

*Thump-*

The sound was heavier than the folder she’d placed earlier. It was a stack of letters I couldn’t count at a glance.

And on top of all those letters, “To my beloved Rem” was written in elegant cursive.

I unconsciously stared at them, dumbstruck. Then I rubbed my face and thought.

Right, this is an improvement.

The first thing she sent me wasn’t a letter, but a box full of gold coins.

I thought about the past two months.

Every Sunday, Irene would show up, pulling out gifts from her subspace pocket, saying that Clara sent them.

Not just jewelry and gems, but silks, rare medicinal herbs, weapons, potions, magical tools… even flowers.

Each one an item I could never afford, even if I sold my body.

It was as if Clara was trying to fill our lost years with gold.

It was a typical Clara thing to do.

[…You’re saying that she sent all of this?]

So I sent it all back.

There were three reasons for this.

One was my promise to the Captain, and the other was my personal pride. And the third, most important reason was that…

I didn’t want to repeat the past.

If, once again, Clara’s affections were solely directed at me, internal discord would arise, just like back then. And I would become her weakness.

Of course, Clara would dismiss my concerns, saying that no one would defy her who is now the saint and the Pope. She’d probably give me an arrogant smile. Humans don’t change, after all.

But an arrow that’s shot up at the sky eventually falls back down. Arrogance will always be our downfall.

That’s why this time, I really wanted to start things right.

Not with the master and servant relationship we had 13 years ago, but with a relationship where we could meet as equals.

It felt like that was the only way we could break free from the past, both her and I.

…Of course, that can’t happen until my promise to the Captain was over.

Anyway.

I returned all the gifts Clara sent, attaching a note that said to please just send letters next time.

Fortunately, she had become much better at listening to me now, compared to when she was 11. But her method was a bit overwhelming.

I dragged the rather heavy stack of letter closer. I sighed, wondering how long it would take me to read all of them.

“Look at this asshole. What country’s tradition is it to sigh and smile at the same time?”

Clevens’ words made me unconsciously touch my mouth. I could feel my lips, curved upwards.

…Yeah, it might have been a bit overwhelming, but honestly, I was also a little happy.

Because it was a clear sign of affection.

Besides, Clara was surprisingly good at writing. Perhaps it was thanks to all those romance novels I had read to her as a child, or maybe she was just naturally gifted.

Either way, reading her letters wasn’t boring, although it was a bit tiring.

And most of all, it was *Clara*.

The very fact that I could do something together with her was probably something I liked.

“Ugh, that creepy smile again.”

I glared at Clevens, who had managed to kill the mood once again. But he just tilted his bottle back and retorted with a curse.

“If you’re going to act all lovey-dovey, do it in your room. Your right hand is healed a bit now, so it’ll be easier. But don’t shake it too hard, you’ll rip your stitches.”

I barely managed to process what he was saying.

I was about to throw some curses back at him, but I just held back. Instead, I started looking through the documents that Irene had given me. One way or another, work comes first.

Fortunately, Irene’s work was perfect as always. I was able to quickly sign all the documents and hand them back to Irene.

“Do you mind if I ask you to send these out as well?”

“Of course, I’ll send them through the fastest route.”

Irene flashed a friendly smile and walked out of the building with quick steps. Her behavior was exactly what you’d call sharp and efficient.

She really was capable in many ways, from having smoothed over the aftermath of the Vatican attack to all the paperwork she had done.

I couldn’t understand why that high-ranking official had fired her over one lost return stone.

Did that bastard have bad judgment when it comes to people?

Well, I’m sure he had his reasons.

I shook my head, pushing aside my pointless speculations. And then, I decided to focus on more practical matters.

Like the stack of letters in front of me.

I still hadn’t finished reading last week’s. And I also had to write her back.

I picked up the stack and stood up.

*BAM-*

That was when the door suddenly swung open.

From within the winter clothes wrapped up to the limit, a sky-blue eyes shines sharply. They swept across the mercenaries one by one, forcing them to avert their gazes.

It was the look of a predator,

A look that was both greedy and demanding, as if it wants everyone in this place to submit to her.

But when it landed on me, the sharp gaze softened instantly.

“Big Bro!!”

How did the wolf become a dog?

I don’t know the details since I slept through science class, but it felt like a change that seemed to have just happened to Feya.

Wagging an invisible tail, Feya ran towards me. I thought she would stop in front of me, but she took another step forward and hugged me.

The winter chill from her clothes seeped into my body, and between that, the smell of her sweat and a faint burning scent through it.

But my surprise was mild.

It’s because this kind of skinship has become frequent recently.

“Feya, it feels like I’m hugging a block of ice, so how about you let go?”

“Ah, sorry!”

Feya apologized as she stepped away. But there’s still a smile on her face.

“You were on patrol, right? Come warm up for now. I’ll bring you some warm milk.”

“Sure.”

I went into the kitchen/office and warmed up some milk. When I came back to the fireplace, Feya was shivering and warming herself up.

I handed her the warm milk.

“You worked hard. Here, have some.”

“Thank you! I’ll drink it we… Huh…?”

Her face went blank all of a sudden. Following her gaze, I saw my bandaged hand. I scratched my head.

“Yeah, I messed up again this morning.”

“That’s the 8th time, isn’t it?”

Feya’s face turns into a sulky expression. To be precise, it was a mixture of irritation and worry.

She reached out her hand, and I obediently held out my bandaged hand to her. Feya gently stroked the back of my hand and asked,

“Why is it bandaged? Didn’t Clevens heal it with holy magic?”

“He said I should experience the inconvenience of being injured, That crazy bastard. You’d think *he’s* the cripple.”

“So you can’t use your hand for a while?”

“Yeah… I gue…”

As I was answering, I suddenly felt a strange feeling in the air, and stopped. When I turned my gaze, I saw Feya with her eyes sparkling.

With a mischievous grin, she said,

“It seems the day has finally come for me to truly become your right hand.”

I immediately understood what she was getting at. And shook my head.

“Absolutely not.”

“Won’t it be inconvenient to not be able to use one of your hands? I’ll be by your side for 24 hours and help you.”

“Ab-solutely not.”

“Didn’t you say you have a lot of paperwork to do today? I’ll hand you the documents one by one.”

“Ms. Irene already took care of that. And I’m planning to get some sleep.”

Feya puffed out her cheeks. But I knew her too well to give in to that.

“And you’re probably tired too after coming back from patrol. Go get some rest.”

“Are you really planning to sleep?”

“Yeah, what do you think I…”

“Instead of replying to the saint’s letter?”

I couldn’t help but stare into Feya’s eyes. But she was looking not at me, but at the letters I had left on the desk.

Her eyes were filled with complicated emotions, emotions I had never seen from her before that night.

The day I returned to Essier from the Vatican, when I told our men about the story between Clara and me.

After hearing the whole story, Feya looked at me with those same eyes and went into her tent first, saying she was tired.

And from the next day onwards, her skinship became more frequent. And whenever something related to Clara happened, those eyes would appear.

I felt like I had crossed some sort of turning point.

“…Alcohol.”

Feya’s words snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked at her, puzzled, and this time, she looked straight into my eyes.

“Go have a drink with me.”

It was a sudden and troublesome request. I couldn’t hide my displeasure.

“Don’t you see my hand? Drinking will make my wound worse.”

“You know that even though Clevens says that. He’ll just heal it by tomorrow.”

I just groaned, having nothing else to say.

Feya, clutching my wrist a bit tighter, spoke again.

“…It’s been a while since we’ve had a drink together.”

But this time, she looked away as she said it.

Sighing inwardly, I thought it over. I didn’t think for long.

She’s someone who even shows her jealousy clumsily. I couldn’t help but be considerate.

“Fine, let’s go drink.”

…

…

…

And on a night when a pale moon drifted with the winter wind…

I found myself repeating the same old questions and answers once again.

“Big bro, don’t you regret it?”

“Regret what?”

“Not getting revenge on me.”

Feya looked at me with eyes that were on the verge of tears as she said,

“Big bro, I’m the one who cut off your leg.”