Ch.42Merchants’ Street (4)

“The merchant street had become noisy.

The defeated knight and his master, the nobleman Danor, pointed at Najin with a red face. Worthless talk that put principles and status first.

Even the crowd gathered in the street knew this was just the desperate struggle of a loser. It meant the noise wasn’t worth listening to.

“It’s gotten quite noisy.”

Dieta didn’t want to pay attention to the noise, nor did she want this moment to be disturbed by such commotion. Rising with Najin’s escort, she whispered to him.

“Shall we run away?”

“Is it okay to run?”

“We can deal with the aftermath later. I’m in a good mood for once, and I don’t want it ruined.”

I don’t want to think about such things right now.

Najin nodded at Dieta’s expression that seemed to say this. He quickly scanned the street, then looked at Dieta’s shoes. They weren’t suitable for running.

Najin lowered his posture and turned his back to Dieta.

“…You’ll carry me?”

“Didn’t you say we should run?”

It’s hard to run in those shoes, isn’t it?

His tone was indifferent, without a trace of ulterior motive. After hesitating briefly, Dieta carefully climbed onto Najin’s back.

A slight shudder.

Dieta trembled briefly as her palms touched Najin’s back. She hadn’t noticed when looking at him, but his back was quite firm. She could feel the cracked muscles through the thin leather clothing.

“Hold my shoulders, not my clothes.”

Najin muttered as he stood up.

The noisy voices of the crowd. The pointing nobleman and the growling of the knight defeated in the duel. Leaving all that noise behind, Najin took a step forward.

Then, with a thud.

“Kyaak…!”

In an instant, Dieta’s body lurched forward.

Najin had lowered his posture and started running. Afraid of falling while holding onto his clothes, Dieta wrapped her hands around his shoulders.

“Have you thought about where to go?”

“Anywhere, somewhere without people…!”

Dieta shouted from the swaying back.

The sound of wind rushing past her ears, scenery flashing by. Dieta pressed herself closer to Najin’s back.

‘This isn’t so bad actually…?’

It felt like being the heroine in a fairy tale.

But that thought was fleeting, as Dieta soon realized that fairy tales were just fairy tales, and a chase scene in reality wasn’t so romantic.

“Hiccup!”

The constantly swaying back.

Rapidly changing scenery. Vision bobbing up and down. The sprint of a Sword Expert-level warrior was not something Dieta could easily handle.

‘I think I’m going to throw up…!’

To avoid the disaster of vomiting on Najin’s back, Dieta had to bite her lips tightly.

2.

“We’ve arrived.”

Najin stopped walking.

Dieta had buried her face in Najin’s nape, eyes closed, unable to overcome her motion sickness. She slowly raised her head.

“……”

Dieta wiped the drool from Najin’s nape with her sleeve and patted his shoulder.

“Let, let me down.”

Dieta stood on the ground with trembling legs.

She took deep breaths while patting her chest. Her stomach was still churning, but breathing deeply made her feel a bit better.

Dieta looked around.

An open view. They were on a low hill overlooking Cambria, City of Opportunity. The open view and refreshing breeze made for quite a nice scenery.

‘I didn’t know there was a place like this in the city?’

It was quite unfamiliar to Dieta, who always lived near the bustling merchant street and central guild. It seemed to be a hill on the outskirts of the city.

“……”

Dieta silently glanced at Najin.

Najin was also silently looking down at the city. It wasn’t particularly surprising. For the past month, Najin had been a taciturn man with little change in expression.

However, because of that……

She couldn’t forget the smile Najin had shown earlier. It was like looking in a mirror. Dieta’s lips moved slightly before she spoke.

“Why did you pull such a stunt?”

Najin tilted his head at Dieta’s question. As if asking why she was asking something so obvious, he replied while looking at her.

“I told you. I just didn’t like it.”

“My smile?”

“More precisely, I disliked that resigned attitude. It’s very familiar to me.”

Najin said.

“‘This kind of treatment is natural for me. I’ve received it so much that it doesn’t bother me anymore. They might expect me to get angry, but I never will. I’ll just keep smiling…’

The boy who always wore a fake smile in the underground city muttered.

“That’s the kind of smile it was, wasn’t it?”

“……”

Dieta fell silent.

“I’m not bothered at all…”

“Thinking you’re not bothered because it’s become a habit—that’s a misconception.”

Najin cut off Dieta’s words.

Looking straight at Dieta, Najin said.

“People who don’t understand say things like, ‘Just ignore them,’ or ‘Just let it go.’ That’s all bullshit. Anyone can say anything.”

Najin sneered.

“Maybe once or twice is fine, but it builds up. Continuously.”

From the age when he could read others’ expressions and think for himself, Najin had lived that way. Living with his head bowed submissively, resigned to his fate.

“No one is truly unbothered. You just let it keep eating away at you. So, I just didn’t like seeing that.”

Najin sighed.

“It might have been unnecessary meddling, but I did it because I was frustrated. It annoyed me watching you.”

“…That’s all?”

“Do you need more reason than that?”

It was a trivial reason.

And yet, it wasn’t trivial at all. Dieta looked at the young man standing before her with half-closed eyes. A faint smile lingered at the corners of his mouth.

“You know, were you always this kind of person?”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought you were taciturn, thorough, emotionless, and calculating.”

Dieta’s judgment wasn’t wrong.

What Dieta had seen in Najin were fragments of his time as a hunter in the underground city. A time when he suppressed his emotions and lived with resigned desires.

Though he claimed to have shed that when leaving the underground city.

Those fragments still remained in Najin.

But that couldn’t be called Najin’s original personality. It was just a mask Najin wore; originally, Najin was an impulsive and emotional person.

“I didn’t know you were this spontaneous.”

“This is closer to my real personality.”

Najin chuckled.

“Just as you wear a mask, I wear one too.”

Everyone wears masks. It’s just that these two people’s masks were particularly thick. They were masks to hide unfortunate childhoods.

Therefore.

“We’re alike. You and I.”

Dieta and Najin felt a sense of kinship with each other. Dieta exhaled deeply as she looked down at Cambria, City of Opportunity.

A mask, he called it a mask.

Truly an apt expression. Dieta smiled bitterly. She had fled from her family, bearing the stigma of an abandoned child, running without rest.

‘Twenty years.’

The mask created over her 20 years of life was thick and solid. Before the head of her family, her sisters, the servants, and even her mother, Dieta had lived with a false smile.

A mask created over 20 years.

Such a mask wouldn’t break easily.

But just now, the young man before her had pried open a gap in that mask and glimpsed what lay beyond. The surprised yet exhilarated expression Dieta had inadvertently shown.

That was Dieta’s real face.

Dieta slowly exhaled and looked at Najin. Najin too had a more relaxed, lighter expression than usual. That must be this young man’s ‘real’ face.

“…Albania’s abandoned whore.”

Through the gap in the removed mask.

As she faced Najin through that gap, the nobleman’s earlier words echoed in Dieta’s ears.

“…Hey.”

“Yes?”

“Aren’t you curious about why I’m an abandoned child?”

“Not particularly.”

“That’s a very quick answer.”

“I just don’t think I need to know that much.”

Najin answered indifferently.

“It seems like something you want to keep hidden, so why should I pry?”

The nameplate he had seen when they first met.

Seeing the word ‘Albania’ scratched on that nameplate, Najin had guessed. That for Dieta, her family was a past she wanted to shake off.

If so, was there any need to know?

In a way, it was consideration, indifference, and perhaps a defense mechanism. Najin too had much in his past that needed to be hidden. However, Najin’s indifferent attitude was refreshing to Dieta.

“It’s strange, somehow.”

“Is it?”

The sunset was falling.

The setting sun. The time Najin had promised to escort was until sunset. With the falling sunset, their tumultuous walk was coming to an end.

“I enjoyed today.”

Dieta said.

“Somehow, it was different from what I expected… but I feel refreshed. Like you said, sometimes it might be good to just let loose like this.”

Dieta’s hair sparkled in the sunset light. With her back to the sunset, Dieta looked at Najin.

“Hmm.”

She mumbled, then exhaled deeply. With that sigh, the false smile and sly, snake-like impression fell away, revealing… Dieta’s real face. Dieta, with her mask removed, looked at Najin.

“I hope we can maintain a good relationship going forward, 28-year-old adventurer Ivan.”

Probably a false identity.

However, the smile and actions Najin had shown just now were not false. Najin, fully revealing his true nature, smiled and extended his hand toward Dieta.

Not a hand for escorting.

Just a hand offering a handshake.

Najin offered a handshake to Dieta who had shown her real face. Dieta carefully took Najin’s hand. The hand calloused from wielding a sword met Dieta’s fingers that carried the metallic scent of gold coins.

“I meant to say this before but couldn’t.”

Still holding hands, Najin said.

“Since coming to the city, I’ve received a lot of help from you. You said it was mutually beneficial, but…”

Najin knew.

That everything was favorable to him. Although he knew it wasn’t pure goodwill, that there were ulterior motives… nevertheless, it was true that he had received help from Dieta.

“Thanks to you, I was able to settle quickly and raise my rank rapidly.”

“That’s because of your skill…”

“Even with skill, the opportunity to seize it was thanks to you.”

Settling in quickly. Being able to participate in the Red-Eyes mercenary group’s request. All were possible because of Dieta’s help.

“I owe you a debt.”

Therefore.

“Just once, anytime.”

Najin said.

“I’ll help you without question. As long as it doesn’t stray too far from my values.”

“That’s quite a vague statement.”

Dieta chuckled.

She doesn’t particularly like these kinds of verbal promises. She’s seen too many cases where people act as if they never made such promises, or refuse by beating around the bush.

So let’s write a contract instead. Let’s leave evidence with legal effect under precise conditions.

The usual Dieta would have said that.

But today, somehow, she didn’t want to.

She liked the view from the hill, liked the fresh air, and above all, liked the refreshing smile of the young man before her.

“No going back on your word later.”

“I tend to keep my promises.”

3.

“Knight of House Schulhauser, Verhagen.”

A voice echoed across the plaza modeled after the Round Table from the legend of King Arthur.

“He murdered my master.”

He violated the code that demands loyalty to one’s master.

“He killed my comrades.”

He violated the code by betraying his brothers-in-arms.

“All these acts were carried out through dishonorable ambushes, and the sword he wielded had no pride.”

A sword without pride or honor.

A sword wielded in violation of the code.

“Finally, he conspired with demons. He stole artifacts sealing demons and made pacts with them to gain power.”

The voice grew louder.

A voice filled with anger echoed through the plaza.

“Verhagen has lost his honor. Abandoned his pride. By conspiring with demons, he trampled on the dying words of the Knight King. Can such a being still be called a knight?”

The answer came immediately.

The knights gathered in the plaza declared in unison. Absolutely not. He could no longer call himself a knight, nor should he be called one.

“Verhagen has tainted the honor and pride of knighthood.”

The verdict was delivered.

“Therefore, we judge Verhagen.”

The one standing at the center of the plaza.

The most knightly of knights.

Godif, the leader of Atanga, shouted.

“A tainted knight’s name can only be cleansed by a knight’s sword.”

Those who uphold the ancient code of knighthood.

Knights who judge knights.

The Atanga knights gathered in the plaza each struck the Atanga emblem marked on their equipment. Some pounded their armor, some their swords, some their lances, some their shields.

“Pursue Verhagen and execute him.”

The judgment was passed, and Atanga moved.

To protect honor and pride.

Though they say the weight carried by the word “knight” has become infinitely lighter in this age, they move to show that there are still lines that must not be crossed.