Chapter 79: The Value of What’s Precious (1)

[79] 12. The Value of What’s Precious (1)

Act 2, The Witch and the Frenemy

Lighting: Red of full-blown spring, soft and dreamlike.

(April 17th, Nicolai year 64, Forest near Erfin)

(A forest bathed in spring. Simple flowers bloom on the trees, and colorful ones on the grass. Even the birds seem to carry spring on their wings.

And in this spring scenery, lies an overturned carriage. A magic-powered carriage that runs without horses. Its front is smashed in, as if it had crashed head-on into a tree.

And before it, Rem and Rosalia begin to fight.)

Rem: (pulling at his hair) I told you! I said, leave it all to me, to not interfere until I give the signal. Was it really that hard to follow, Tin Can!

Rosalia: (pointing at him accusingly) And *I* told you! I had no choice! That rabid barbarian was coming! Do you know how close she got to you? She was right there! Right in front of your nose!!

Rem: You should have left her alone, even if she were right in front of my nose! I was about to get my hands on a clue to finding that damned witch! That stone tablet was right at my fingertips…

Rosalia: And your head would’ve been rolling on the ground if you had!

Rem: Even if my head was rolling on the ground, I would have gotten my hands on the clue!

Rosalia: This crazy bastard…!! Hey! You walking corpse!

(Rosalia charges at Rem, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him up.)

Rosalia: Take care of yourself! It might be nothing to you, but it’s not to me! As a knight, do you have any idea how shameful it is for someone else to put themselves in danger for me?!

Rem: That’s your problem, Tin Can!

(Rem grabs Rosalia’s hair.)

Rosalia: You, you dare grab my hair again…!!

(Rosalia grabs Rem’s hair. The two scream, pulling at each other’s hair. They pinch cheeks, poke sides, pull hair, and even bite arms.)

(Narrator enters)

Narrator: (Looking at the two fighting childishly with disdain) Haah…

It’s been a month since Rem and Rosalia set out on their journey. And they were gradually realizing that they were the worst possible companions for each other.

The reason, to put it bluntly, was the difference in their backgrounds and personalities.

Although Rem wasn’t completely uncultured, he was, in the end, from the slums. While Rosalia, even before becoming a knight, was the daughter of a noble family.

To Rem, bending the law a bit was acceptable. While Rosalia was a strict rule follower.

Rosalia valued caution and perfection, but Rem prioritized speed and success.

Rosalia and Rem were complete opposites in every way. Even their tastes in food were different.

Only God knows how many times they argued over what to eat for dinner.

And Rem’s closed-off, self-righteous personality was also a source of conflict.

Rem would often act on his own, without telling Rosalia, and even when he did consult her, it was more of a notification than a discussion.

And this was something that Rosalia, who considered this *her* mission, couldn’t accept.

Thus, they fought tirelessly throughout the entire month.

Ironically, however, those countless fights gradually softened Rosalia’s guilt and Rem’s hostility.

Perhaps the saying, “Familiarity breeds fondness,” really is true.

And this would become the fertilizer for new emotions that would soon… Ahem, it seems the fight is over. I’ll take my leave now…

(Narrator exits)

(Rem and Rosalia are lying on the floor, holding each other’s cheeks.)

Rem: Let go first.

Rosalia: You let go first.

Rem: I’ll let go if you let go first.

Rosalia: If you let go first… Ah, forget it. Let’s let go at the same time on the count of three. One…

Rem: Two…

Rosalia: Three.

(Neither of them lets go of the other’s cheek. Their faces contort simultaneously.)

Rem: Aren’t knights supposed to always keep their word?

(Rosalia, with her lips pressed tightly together, looks away.)

Rem: Haah…

(Rem finally releases Rosalia’s cheek. Rosalia, after some internal conflict, also lets go.)

Rem: So, what are you going to do now? Thanks to you, our carriage is busted, and we’ve lost the clue to finding that witch who can fix that stupid stone, the ‘Dragon King’s Essence.’

Rosalia: …Why is it my fault?

Rem: You tin-can bitch, still trying to act all high and mighty.

Rosalia: …Every time I hear it, I can’t help but wonder. Just what do you mean by ‘acting high and mighty’? It doesn’t sound like a compliment.

Rem: …Nevermind, there’s no point in talking to you.

(Rem gets up.)

Rem: Let’s just get out of here, quick. At this rate, those schizophrenic psychos will…

(Sheila and Feya enter.)

(Feya raises her axe and point it at Rem.)

Feya: Rem, you son of a bitch!! Today’s the day I finally chop off your legs!!

Rem: (Rubbing his face) Oh God, Alain, have mercy.

***

Sheila, looking at the short-distance teleportation magic circle that was drawn on the ground, muttered,

“How many times does this make?”

“…The fourth time,”

A battered knight answered, his face tired. Sheila closed her eyes and thought about the scene she had just witnessed.

The image of Rem disappearing into the light of the magic circle, with Rosalia in his arms.

*Clang-*

A dented piece of armor, kicked away, floated in the air. Sheila gritted her teeth, chewing on her nails.

“We’re running out of time, and now this… because of that damn mage…!”

“Don’t be so impatient.”

Sheila’s fierce gaze turned.

Feya, spitting out a broken tooth, was drinking a healing potion. Tossing the empty bottle aside, she said,

“We’ll catch them soon enough.”

“You’re being a bit too confident for someone who got beaten up today, aren’t you, barbarian?”

Sheila spat out the word “barbarian” with contempt. But Feya just scoffed.

“A captain with such poor observation skills? The Central Knights really are going to the dogs.”

“What?”

“Rem, that bastard, he’s just a half-assed mage.”

“…Explain what you mean.”

Feya shrugged.

“He can’t use magic without magic tools.”

It was a realization brought by Feya’s sharp observation skills.

“Haven’t you noticed that the number of spells he’s been using has been going down?”

“Just from that…”

“It’s not ‘just from that’.”

Feya retorted as if it was obvious.

“There’s no way a mage of his caliber would decrease the number of spells he’s using while fighting the same opponent. It’s not like he’s giving us ways to counter him.”

Sheila flinched, as if hit where it hurt. It was something she hadn’t even thought about.

Feya crossed her arms and grinned.

“And his face when I smashed that magic tool bracelet earlier? It was a sight to behold.”

“…So you’re saying that this Rem guy is nothing special if we just destroy his magic tools?”

Feya nodded.

“At least, he won’t be able to keep slipping through our fingers like this anymore.”

Sheila let out a sigh and rubbed the space between her eyebrows. But soon she looked up at the other knights.

“You heard her, everyone! From now on, when we encounter Rem, prioritize the magic tools!”

Then she turned to Feya with a glare.

“And barbarian. You need to share this kind of information with us next time.”

However, Feya’s reaction was as indifferent as always.

“Do I have to? You’re hiding that arrow from me too, aren’t you? Just what exactly are you planning to do with that arrow…”

Sheila grabbed Feya by the collar and pulled her close, her eyes blazing with fury.

“It seems you can’t tell the difference between top and bottom, barbarian. I’m your employer. I’m the one who bought your pathetic life with money. So shut up and do as I say.”

A tone reminiscent of a beast.

But Feya didn’t even flinch. She simply grabbed Sheila’s hand that was gripping her collar.

“Right, Ms. Knight, you are the one paying me. But you know…”

“…!”

Feya’s hand slowly pushed Sheila’s hand away. Sheila was bewildered and tried to apply more force, but Feya’s hand continued to push hers away.

Soon, her hand was bent backward.

Smiling coldly, Feya said,

“That doesn’t make me your dog.”

“You…!”

“So fuck off. Wouldn’t your parents be sad if that pretty face of yours got split in half?”

“That’s enough.”

A sharp blade rested on Feya’s neck.

The knight’s tense eyes and Feya’s sky-blue eyes met.

And then, finally.

“I guess this is enough for your captain to get the message.”

Feya let go of Sheila’s hand with a smack. Sheila glared at her with a contorted face.

“…You dare to me…”

But her anger didn’t turn into action. One of the knights rushed towards Sheila with a frantic look on his face.

Sheila, suppressing her irritation, looked at the knight.

“What’s the matter?”

“Sir Kangnam Laurent, First Division of the Central Knights, reporti…”

“Get to the point.”

The knight seemed flustered by Sheila’s cold reaction. But it was only for a moment. Soon, the knight blurted out his report.

“W-Well… His royal Highness the Prince is coming…”

Sheila’s face instantly turned deathly white.

***

In a dimly lit inn room, illuminated only by a single magic lamp,

Rem was rubbing his face as he looked at his collection of broken magic tools.

“That crazed barbarian woman…”

This was the 17th one.

The 17th magic tool the barbarian had broken.

She must have figured out that he’s a half-assed mage who can’t do anything without magical tools.

For a barbarian, her eyes are unnecessarily sharp…

Letting out a deep sigh, Rem counted his remaining magic tools.

21, still enough to act a mage. But if five or six more were to be broken, there would be a gap in his magic.

That barbarian would chop off his legs, just as she shouted.

“I’m done. You should go wash up too.”

Turning his head, he saw Rosalia entering the room, drying her hair. She sat on the bed and looked at him with a puzzled look.

“You’re not planning to sleep without washing up, are you? If so, then you can sleep on the floor.”

This woman, while I’m worried about losing my legs, she…

*Wheew.* Rem took a deep breath and shook off the heat building up inside. Then, turning his chair towards her, he opened his mouth.

“So, what are you going to do now?”

“…What else? We need to find a new clue.”

“So, where is this clue?”

Rosalia was silent for a moment, then barely managed to say in a small voice.

“…We’ll have to start looking for that too.”

Deep fatigue settles on Rem’s face. Letting out a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair.

“Right, we’ll do that. But first, let’s get this straight.”

“…”

Rem glared at Rosalia with his cold, mechanical eyes.

“From now on, whether my life is in danger, or that crazy barbarian is right next to me, don’t worry about it. Just, leave me alone to handle it myself.”

“That’s not an option.”

Her voice, now firm, was a stark contrast to the timid voice she’d used a moment ago.

“You’re asking me to just stand there and watch you die? Absolutely not. I’m a knight, and you’re my companion. What kind of knight would let their companion die?”

“So just throw away that thought.”

Rem’s eyes turned cold.

“It’s that kind of naive thinking that made us lose the stone tablet that might have had a clue about that witch.”

“And that kind of thinking is what saved your life today.”

Rosalia’s eyes turn equally cold.

“Don’t be so hasty. We can only get another chance if we’re alive. If we just patiently follow the clues one by one…”

“I don’t have time for that!”

Rem suddenly jumped to his feet. Pulling at his hair, he muttered to himself,

“It’s already been a month. A month of wandering around the east with no progress! What do you think will happen if those wanted posters spread across the entire continent? The entire reason I’m doing this will be gone!”

He turned to glare at Rosalia.

“And you keep saying to patiently follow the clues one by one. Just how the hell are we supposed to do that? Huh?”

“That’s why I’m saying we should figure it out! *Together*!”

Unable to hold back any longer, she shouted as she got up from the bed.

“Let’s discuss it together! Do you even know what you’ve been like for the past month? Going off on your own, and then telling me to do this, or do that. And you even disappear without a word sometimes!”

“I was trying to figure out a way to get out of this shit in my own way! You tin can!”

“Then why didn’t you even think of doing that *together*, you walking corpse!”

Rosalia pounded her chest in frustration.

“You’ve practically been treating me like a squire! ‘Stay here’, you say. ‘Go there’, you say. ‘Watch me die’, you say. ‘Don’t do anything when I’m in danger’, you say! Do you think this makes sense? You do realize that this is *my* mission?”

Rem’s face contorted.

“I was just doing what I thought was the best course of action. What I thought was the best way…”

“Then why won’t you even listen to what I have to say! Your best might not actually be the best!”

“That’s not important! The important thing is to end this damn mission as soon as possible and…!!”

*Knock, knock-*

A knock cut through their shouting,

followed by the innkeeper’s annoyed voice.

[Please take your fight outside.]

Then, the sound of retreating footsteps.

What followed was a silence, still hot with tension.

For a moment, Rem and Rosalia simply stared at the door.

How much time passed like that.

Rosalia rubbed her face.

“…I’m going out for a bit, to clear my head.”

And then, without waiting for his response, she walked out of the room.

***

The first floor of the inn, where the dining area was located, was boisterous and loud, unlike the second floor where their room was.

The shouts of regular drunks and the drunken ramblings of out-of-town boozers filled the air. The sounds of random chatter thickening the walls of noise.

But Rosalia couldn’t erase her feeling of self-loathing, even amidst this noise.

She downed a glass of dark beer in one gulp and thought to herself,

*Why am I being so emotional in front of him?*

She had never been like this with anyone else.

Rosalia, her life had originally been one made of steel.

Everything was hard, smooth, and cold.

Her parents were her commanders, and she was a commander to her subordinates.

She had never felt affection. She had never received it to begin with.

She had only been swinging a sword since she was young.

Friends, lovers, attachments, those words were all so foreign. So naturally, there were no instances of her feeling angry or expressing frustration at anyone.

Pain, after all, comes from not receiving as much as you give.

Even when she was being treated as a traitor, she didn’t shed a single tear. All she felt was a hollowness in her chest.

But she couldn’t be like that in front of Rem.

Not when he was the one she had to be the most firm with.

Whenever she spoke to him,

Whenever she saw him struggle,

Whenever she saw him being stubborn,

Her heart would soften. Each word he spoke touched a sensitive part of her heart.

But ironically, it wasn’t that she hated it. No, it was the complete opposite.

It was more like…

“Damn it.”

Rosalia, giving up on trying to describe it, took a sip of her dark beer.

“You seem to have a lot on your mind?”

It was at that moment…

Someone sat down across from her.

Sensing a presence, she placed her hand on her sword hilt while pretending to put down her beer.

And, not bothering to hide her wariness, she looked at the person sitting across from her.

A person wearing a thick robe with its hood pulled low.

Judging from her physique, it was a woman.

“Who are you?”

“Oh, I apologize for my late introductions.”

A crackling laugh, and then the woman pulls back her hood.

Her hair was like the color of the sea, and her eyes resembled sapphires.

The woman, with a kind and cute face, smiled brightly and said,

“I’m Irene. Irene Ailleyde.”