Ch.71Sunken Village (5)

“So… how is it now?”

“Haah..! My arm moves again! My arm is reattached!”

“Don’t move too vigorously, it might fall off again.”

Before heading down, we first began treating the patients whose arms and hands had been severed.

After administering intermediate potions, thoroughly disinfecting the still-bleeding wounds, and carefully reattaching the limbs, the mages cast healing spells to greatly enhance the body’s natural regenerative abilities.

Soon, flesh began to fill in along the long blood lines at the connection points, with results as described above.

Simon and the other mages had now exhausted all the spells they could use today with this final incantation, and all that remained was to take the bounty of spoils we had gathered and head down.

“You said you have a spatial storage, right?”

“Yes. It looks like this will be quite a difficult journey.”

I spoke while looking at the loot stuffed into my bag until it was about to burst.

Adventure bags are made to be sturdy, but even they have their limits.

“If we sell this loot, we could rest comfortably for at least a month. I could also send some money to my parents back home…”

“I see.”

It wasn’t particularly surprising, but adventurers typically sent a large percentage of their earnings to their families.

Fundamentally, an adventurer’s body is their asset, so when they fall ill, they need rest. They must equip themselves with quality gear, pay for potions and food, and stay at inns that cost several times more than the regular market price for extended periods. This makes it difficult to save money, but without people sending such remittances, a third of the continent’s households would fall apart.

I watched for quite some time as adventurers staggered down with their enormous bags, and then we too mounted our horses and slowly began descending the asphalt road.

“Did you gather all the loot?”

“Simon.”

As we were heading down, Simon approached me once again.

He looked tired from using so many spells, but since he was on horseback, nothing serious would happen.

“I noticed you were gathering computers earlier. Your spatial storage must be more spacious than it appears.”

“Well, it’s a one gold coin spatial storage.”

“One gold coin… Then it seems to be worth every penny. Heh heh heh.”

Simon continued making small talk without leaving my side.

I knew why he was doing this.

I had turned burned wood into charcoal, and that lonely charcoal was desperately seeking someone to ignite it.

“Simon.”

“Yes?”

“You will embark on an adventure.”

“Hahaha. Embark on an adventure? Hasn’t our adventure just ended?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“…”

At my words, Simon fell silent again.

Not yet.

Still far from it.

I must ignite the sense of adventure sleeping deep in his heart, the yearning for the unknown hidden beneath the shell of age, the passion for progress trapped in the box of old age.

“I can feel your heart. You cannot escape this path, and the path will not escape you. Adventurer Simon. That is the only word that defines you, and until all magic power dissipates and all wisdom is forgotten, you will continue to walk this earth on your two feet.”

“…”

“I tell you, do not hesitate. Death is the gateway to glory, and fear is the vanguard of pioneering. Step beyond the fear of death and set foot in more distant worlds. Reawaken the passion that forms the core of your soul and move forward!”

“…”

Simon listened to my words with a dazed look, as if entranced by something.

I could feel it.

I had once again ignited the passion in that old man.

Now the kindled charcoal will begin to burn white, and only the white ashes will be able to extinguish that flame.

“We have many vacant positions in our party. If you wish to pilgrim the world with iron steps, you know whom to seek.”

“I… I…!”

Simon gritted his teeth, unable to continue speaking.

If one has desire and ability but does not act, it is a lack of courage.

“I’ll be waiting for you to break your shell, Spell Caster.”

With those words, Raisha and I passed by him, and his faint voice was buried in the breeze, not reaching my ears.

*

After our forced march, when we arrived at Karbington village, there were people waiting to welcome us.

They were dispatchers from the Adventurers’ Guild, and by the time we arrived, major recovery operations were already underway.

“Good work. I’ll process your request, so please hand over your quest form.”

When we presented our quest form, the guild staff signed half of it and stamped the other half, completing the certification that the quest had been fulfilled.

Soon, a moderate sum—neither too large nor too small—was settled upon us, and I received it and placed it in my spatial storage.

“Now that the quest is over, let’s wrap things up and head to Fernheim.”

“Yes, Sir Victor.”

The Adventurers’ Guild generally doesn’t involve itself in external affairs, but in cases like relief operations, they would deploy personnel and capital to handle the situation.

Of course, they do so because it’s a “quest.” If no quest came in, the Adventurers’ Guild would steadfastly continue updating their quest board even as a city burned in dragon fire.

It’s not particularly because they’re evil.

Adventurers are not philanthropists, and the Adventurers’ Guild is not a charity.

From the lowest who could at least kill one person, to the highest who could rival gods with their immense power—all were under the guild’s authority, and they were simply fulfilling their obligations.

It’s just that penniless commoners seeking salvation without money curse the guild’s coldness.

“Oh thank you… Thank you so much for helping us…”

“We were simply fulfilling a quest.”

In the distance, I could see the residents of Karbington village receiving relief supplies, carpenters and stonemasons hired from Shahelm, and doctors and nurses who had come to provide medical support.

I don’t know exactly how much money Karbington village paid, but it must have been no small sum to hire about 80 adventurers and bring in that level of manpower and equipment.

I thought this as I packed up the tent, and soon other adventurers began dismantling their tents as well, causing the once-swollen size of Karbington village to shrink again in an instant.

The surging waters had all receded into the ground, drifted household items had been restored, and people were ready to return to their daily lives.

They would never know what we experienced inside that distant peak, what we did there—nor did they need to know, nor would they want to know.

Because they were not adventurers.

Looking at these ordinary people who simply hoped to spend each day safely, praying for warm winters and cool summers, we completed our preparations to set out on another adventure.

*

“Do you really think that mage will come?”

“It doesn’t particularly matter if he doesn’t.”

“Then why…?”

“It’s simple. Adventurers must adventure.”

If the mage and adventurer named Simon Holm adventures alone in the world, that’s fine.

It means there’s one more person who craves adventure and sets out on it.

For me, the worst outcome would be if he didn’t embark on an adventure at all, not who he adventured with.

“You really do love adventure.”

“I live solely for that purpose. Though now, I have another reason—you.”

“Really!”

Clop-clop! Clop-clop!

“!”

While Raisha and I were chatting, I heard the urgent sound of a horse galloping from behind.

I smiled slightly, and Raisha, who had glanced back, also wore a subtle smile.

We stopped our horses and waited for Simon to approach us.

Now he would ride with us, walk with us, and face hardships and adversities with us.

Until we could no longer be together.

“Huff… huff…”

Finally, the horse came to a stop, and I could hear Simon’s heavy breathing behind me.

“Victor!!!”

When he called my name, I turned my horse to face him.

And I could see the burning flame of desire in his eyes, and his unfulfilled longing for the unknown.

“Simon Holm! I hereby apply to join the Iron Walker party as a Bronze-rank mage!”

At last, he conveyed his desire to me.

His soul-scorching aspiration sent sparks flying toward me, and I answered him.

“Victor of Parcival. Charcoal-rank adventurer and battler. And as the leader of the Iron Walker party, I swear to accept Simon Holm, Bronze-rank spell caster, as a member of Iron Walker.”

“Ah…!”

Simon began to cry.

But we did not comfort him.

Because not all tears stem from sadness.