Ch.147147. Snow in Midsummer (4)

“What did that mean?”

I drummed my fingers on the desk in my office, deep in thought. That comment about a similar smell. When I didn’t understand what she meant, Natalie gave me a surprised look before shaking her head and telling me not to worry about it. That surprised expression of hers kept bothering me. What could she have meant?

“Do you have any idea?”

I asked, looking at the Holy Sword leaning against my desk. Her dry voice echoed in my mind.

“[I’m not sure either. I don’t know if it’s worth thinking about so deeply.]”

“She just had to make me worry about it.”

I grumbled as I began organizing my messy desk. Documents had piled up like a mountain while I was away from paperwork. I read each document, stamped it, and sorted it. The jumble of characters I hadn’t seen in a while swam before my eyes. I might need to get a pair of glasses.

“This is the list of sponsors… and this is from the Adventurer’s Guild.”

Letters of appreciation, ambassador appointments, association invitations. The letters were still political. They were trying to cleverly circumvent the Queen’s stern warning and keep me tied down somehow. Politicians are cunning, and when they see an opening, they cling persistently. They search for symbols to capture people’s hearts, thirst for support, but their ambitions are shallow. Their ambitions always remain with the means, with power, rather than ideals and principles.

“How pitiful. What exactly drives these people to act this way?”

“[That’s just how people live. It’s natural to feel sorry for them.]”

I clicked my tongue and gathered the letters into a basket. I would burn them later. Once the sorting was mostly done, I pulled out a letter from another basket where I had set aside correspondence to read later. Most were in plain, modest envelopes.

“This is a letter from Lea.”

Recalling the faces of that adventurer trio, I wore a faint smile. They had participated in the recent battle. They seemed to have achieved quite a bit and become somewhat famous among adventurers. The letter said they hoped they had been helpful to me and that they were always cheering me on. I wrote back saying I would secretly visit the Adventurer’s Guild soon. I also added that I would like to see them.

“And this is from blacksmith Robin Bell.”

The letter mentioned how he had been leading the effort to create weapons to fight monsters. I wrote back thanking him for making such an excellent sword, as Neoul had performed admirably in battle. Countless letters and expressions of gratitude. I spent quiet time reading each letter and writing replies.

“…What’s this?”

I fished out a tattered, water-soaked envelope. Despite the condition of the envelope, the letter inside was intact. After turning over the envelope to check the sender, I slightly furrowed my brow.

“Why would he suddenly send me a letter?”

Aryen Elmione. That’s what was written on the envelope. I placed the letter on the desk and looked at it without reading. The handwriting was neat, completely opposite to Aryen’s temperament. Some parts of the text were smudged, but it wasn’t difficult to make out. The letter was short but didn’t seem lacking. After hesitating, I began to carefully read the letter from the beginning.

I have been hunting down evil god worshippers and the calamity worship they’ve been spreading.

The letter began abruptly. I read his writing, which was as calm and rigid as his voice.

The tracking seemed easy but wasn’t. For a mercenary, tracking is everyday life. Whether you’re the one being tracked or doing the tracking. For someone called the King of Mercenaries like me, tracking is as natural and easy as breathing. But they weren’t easy opponents. It was because their way of thinking and acting was vastly different from that of humans.

Images of evil god worshippers and calamity worshippers flashed through my mind.

They were better at cutting off their tails than hiding. A hidden person can be found, and that’s that. But those who deceive are difficult. It’s impossible to determine what parts of them are real. The bishop and I killed them indiscriminately. Interrogation was ineffective. Capturing them for questioning was the worst approach. I spared the most vicious ones to extract information and beheaded the worshippers who had transformed into monsters.

It was like a kind of confession. I straightened my posture and continued reading.

I feel nothing when killing people. I know well that I’ll die and fall into hell anyway. But I felt frustrated. Those I wanted to kill didn’t die, and those I didn’t care about died. The bishop didn’t say anything about this. I don’t blame the bishop.

…So that happened.

I exhaled deeply. Was he experiencing some kind of change of heart? His words seemed confused.

The tracking will continue. Even after you destroyed the comet, even after you captured the homunculus, they’ve been persistently continuing their lifeline by moving their bases. Though I kept grabbing at tails trying to get to their main body only to grasp at air, things are different now. They’re cornered. The calamities are all but one exterminated, and their forces have been greatly reduced this time.

The letter had only one paragraph left. I frowned as I read the remaining text.

I don’t know why I left. I think it was because I didn’t know where I should be. I wanted to prove myself in a life and world where I couldn’t understand anything. But I was constantly denied and couldn’t achieve anything. I think this journey will be my chance to reach the end. Whether it’s my life, my thoughts, or the evil god worshippers. I’ll leave the location of my accumulated wealth. I think you’ll put it to good use.

The letter ended with the address of a safe. I sighed as I folded the letter. I was stuck waiting until I heard the results. What a fool.

“[This is another troublesome situation.]”

“I think it should be fine since the bishop is with him, but there’s no way to know where they are right now. Should I visit the Holy Nation again?”

I sank into my chair. Aryen wasn’t someone to worry about, especially with the bishop there. All I could do was hope for good news. After that, if the mercenary wanted to settle things, I could accommodate him anytime. I just hoped he wouldn’t do anything stupid.

“Why leave the money to me? Unnecessary.”

I just hoped he wouldn’t throw his life away. I thought he was someone I’d need to have a long conversation with someday. With Aryen’s letter, the paperwork was finished. I laid my body down on the now-clean desk. Fatigue washed over me. The streets of the royal capital were still quiet. A cool summer. A gentle breeze carried sunlight in and out of the room.

“The seventh calamity…”

When alone, I thought about the calamities. I have no memory of the “Origin.” My memories of “I Won’t Return” stop at the sixth calamity. The original work seemed to have glossed over it, or perhaps ended ambiguously.

“[Forget about it for now. There’s no guarantee that all the calamities must appear right now.]”

“It’s because the wording is so vague. What exactly does ‘Origin’ refer to?”

“[I don’t know everything, Ilroy.]”

Origin. I don’t know what it’s the origin of, or what form it will take when it comes. But I have to end it. I’ve come too far to pretend I don’t know just because I lack information.

“…Soon. I’ll find out.”

I got up from my seat with a sigh. There was a pile of replies I had written. Even as I sighed, looking at the written letters brought a bitter smile to my face. I left the headquarters and put each letter I had written into the mailbox, checking who each was addressed to and whether the stamps were properly attached.

“You look busy.”

A familiar voice reached my ears. I turned my head to greet the owner of the voice.

“What brings you here? Weren’t you busy yourself?”

George Gunther showed an awkward smile and shrugged.

“I have something to talk about, so I came to ask if you could spare some time.”

“Perfect timing. I was just about to take some time off by myself.”

“That’s good. Let’s talk inside.”

Though I said it half-jokingly, George didn’t bat an eye. I followed George into the headquarters with a sigh.

“What’s with all the letters, Ilroy?”

“Replies to people who sent me letters. There were some names I missed.”

“…I see.”

George plopped down on the lobby sofa as if it were his own living room. It had been a while since I’d seen him without his armor. He looked like the neighbor who enjoyed beer and exercise. I brought up cold bottled beer from the basement and handed it to George. He popped the cork with his teeth and gulped down half of it.

“Thanks. I’ve missed this.”

George let out a satisfied sigh and put the bottle down.

“So, what did you want to talk about?”

“I understand you want to get rid of me quickly, but don’t rush.”

George said lazily, throwing his head back against the sofa. After watching George continue to stall, I sat down on the opposite sofa and opened a beer. The beer was cold enough to make my head throb. I let out a breath similar to George’s.

“How’s your body? I heard you’re fine, but knowing your personality, you’d probably wrap yourself up even if something hurt, so I’m asking.”

“I’m fine. What reason would I have to hide my condition from Isis? If I was injured, I got it treated, you idiot.”

Though my response was prickly, George just shrugged once.

“After going through so much, I can’t help but worry. Don’t mind if I ask persistently.”

George picked up his beer again and drank a quarter of what remained.

“I’ve been through many battles and wars, but this is the first time those around me haven’t died. When you don’t lose people, you become afraid of losing them. I think it’s especially so because I know it’s all thanks to you that everyone around us is alive.”

As George raised the bottle again, about a quarter of the beer disappeared. George looked at the empty beer bottle and tapped it repeatedly.

“Stop dawdling and tell me what you want to say. What’s going on?”

“The wedding date has been set.”

I was taking a swig of beer when my eyes widened.

“What? I thought something bad had happened, but you’re actually bringing good news for once?”

George chuckled, seemingly pleased to have surprised me.

“Someone might think I only bring bad news.”

“I thought you were unusually busy lately, but it was wedding preparations. Aren’t you rushing?”

“Both families seemed quite eager. They agreed to have a quiet wedding while things are calm, since we never know when we might be called away for something else.”

I nodded with interest.

“That’s great. When’s the ceremony?”

“The end of this month. It might seem rushed, but since there isn’t that much to consider, the preparations are going smoothly.”

“Should I get you some furniture? I assume you already have a house.”

George giggled and waved his hand.

“I’ll just accept your good wishes. Instead, I’d like you to officiate the wedding.”

Officiate? My eyes widened again.

“What, am I really okay for that?”

“I’m not asking because you’re the hero. This is a request as a friend. Of course, you can refuse.”

I shook my head vigorously. Whose wedding was it if not my friend’s? Of course I had to accept.

“I’ll do my best. But don’t expect anything special, okay?”

“I’m grateful just for your acceptance. I’ll contact you again later.”

George smiled and got up from his seat. I watched as he left the headquarters with a light step.

One person’s story was turning to a new chapter.