Chapter 87 - As Much as the Vessel Had Grown (1)

Amber is also called a gem that holds time.

That is because this gem, made when tree sap hardens over long years, often hardens together with its surrounding environment, such as leaves or insects.

"It's clear?"

["Mm."]

However, there was nothing like that at all in the amber Vlad was holding.

It was so limpid that he wondered whether this really was amber, when there should have been at least a speck visible somewhere inside it.

"A field with a maple tree standing in it... Could this be magic?"

But even if nothing could be seen, the amber Alicia had given him definitely held time.

Because inside the amber seen in the World of voices, there was the scenery of a certain autumn day, standing perfectly still.

["Even I don't know that much."]

If he gazed into it quietly, the scenery was so vivid it felt as though he himself were standing there.

Inside the gem was the sight of a reed field swaying in the wind beneath a maple tree dyed red.

"This makes no sense..."

Right eye, left eye.

Opening his eyes by turns, Vlad could only look bewildered at the amber, whose appearance changed completely with each world he saw.

"In any case, it must have something to do with the elves."

["I think so too."]

Even if an inexperienced boy and a memoryless voice racked their brains over it, no answer would come.

In the end, Vlad thought he would have to go to the elves who had given this gem to learn the exact reason.

"It is far..."

Vlad, who had promised to help the voice recover its memories, had now found a new clue.

And the place that clue pointed to was the eastern part of the empire, where the elven forest was.

"Knock, knock, knock."

Vlad, who had been thinking for a long time about how he might go to the elven forest, turned his head at the sudden sound of knocking.

It was not the sound of someone knocking on the door, but a knocking sound someone was making with their mouth.

"What is it?"

Vlad hurriedly hid the amber he had received from Alicia inside his clothes and opened the door.

Outside the door, a red-haired girl holding piles of laundry as large as her own body was looking up at Vlad.

"... There's no one here?"

Standing in the corridor, Zemina examined every corner of Vlad's room with narrowed eyes.

Vlad was briefly flustered by the way she looked, as though conducting an inspection, but soon he had no choice but to catch the piles of laundry flying at him.

"What's gotten into you?"

Ignoring the question, Zemina quickly looked down the corridor, confirmed that no one was outside, then swiftly pushed Vlad inside and shut the door.

"Why did I hear voices when there's no one here?"

Vlad's voice had flowed out into the empty, quiet corridor as though he were talking with someone.

But after realizing that there was only one person in the room right now, not two, Zemina looked at Vlad with sharp eyes.

"Are you still talking to ghosts?"

"..."

Vlad wanted to say no, but the moment he saw Zemina's eyes, he could not.

In all the years he had lived, there had been more days when he knew Zemina than days when he did not.

The two who had rolled around at the bottom had been friends, comrades, and at times even accomplices.

"... It's not a ghost."

That was why he could not hide anything, at least not in front of Zemina.

She was the person in this world who had watched Vlad from the closest distance.

From a very long time ago, and even now.

"... Move rooms."

"To where?"

"To the end of the corridor."

With those words, Zemina sat on the bed and let out a small sigh.

"Then I'll take the room next to you."

Zemina said she would push Vlad to the end of the corridor and use the room beside his.

So that no one would notice Vlad talking to an ominous being.

Zemina was saying that she, too, would willingly become his accomplice now.

"It really is all right, isn't it?"

"... Yeah."

A gaze filled with worry pierced into Vlad's eyes.

Even without words, Vlad could read Zemina's intention, which reached him sincerely.

"Be careful. You're someone who can't hide anymore now."

The back-alley boy no one paid attention to could slip into the darkness as much as he liked, but Sir Vlad, knight of Bayezid, could not.

Because Vlad, who had now become a knight, had become someone who drew people's eyes wherever he was.

"Make sure you go to the church."

But whether he was a shabby back-alley boy or a shining knight, Vlad was still only someone who always lived inside the girl's worries.

"Zemina."

"What?"

Vlad took a small pouch from his breast and stopped Zemina as she was about to go outside.

The first wages he had received in his life.

When Vlad received them from Vordan, the first person he had thought of was the red-haired girl.

"Is there anything you want? I'll buy you something."

Even if the same one gold had the same value, the meaning contained within it was different.

To the wealthy, it might be money they could easily hand over, but to the poor, it could be everything.

"Something I want?"

And that day, the girl standing at the smithy had scraped together everything she had and placed an unadorned sword in Vlad's hand.

Though it had only been a five-gold sword, to Zemina it must have been money she had scraped together from her present, her future, and everything she could do.

"Take care of yourself, you idiot."

But Zemina did not want compensation from Vlad.

Because she knew that the shining gold coins now held in the boy's hand were all the price of lives.

"Get yourself some equipment or something."

With those words, Zemina took back the piles of laundry and stepped out into the corridor again.

The piles of laundry looked difficult for her small body to handle, but Zemina simply passed down the corridor and descended the stairs without wavering in the slightest.

"..."

Some people expected things from him, and some people demanded things of him.

But the girl wanted nothing, and only gave to him and worried for him.

"You could at least have said something."

Kindness without compensation was far too heavy.

That was why Vlad always felt as though he owed Zemina a debt.

* * *

The bustling Rose's Smiles.

Though the sun had not yet set, Marcella's establishment was filled with the same vitality as before.

"Business is good."

"This is the only place people can come at this hour."

Rose's Smiles, which had once been a brothel but was now a luxurious inn.

Marcella had chosen such a bold change of business because she had her own certainty.

"They all warm up here before going off to play hard."

Prodigals who wanted to enjoy pleasure from early in the day.

Upright gentlemen who wanted to enjoy themselves but did not want to go in too deep.

Marcella had glimpsed the possibility of a new market, and she had used her abilities without reservation to create the new Rose's Smiles.

"Aren't you short on people? Or has anyone tried to pick a fight?"

"Pick a fight?"

At Vlad's innocent question, Marcella could not help bursting into laughter.

The boy before her still did not realize his own position.

"Who would dare?"

The reason she had been able to carry on business so boldly even without the protection of an organization was that she had a reliable backer.

"With Soara's knight here, who would dare pick a fight?"

"I'm glad I was of help."

"That's why I won't take lodging fees from you."

Marcella looked at Vlad as he leaned his arms on the railing and gazed down at the first floor.

She had certainly thought he would grow, but she truly had not expected him to become someone on an entirely different level like this.

"Take him with you."

"Who?"

The boy had become a man, and now he was looking at a larger world.

Then someone would have to support him from behind.

"His size is wasted in our place, where fights don't even break out."

Marcella smiled and pointed with the tip of her chin somewhere on the first floor.

The entrance of Rose's Smiles.

There stood a large black man with his arms crossed.

"Once I fed him properly, he put on some muscle."

"Will that be all right?"

Even if the back-alley bosses did not touch them, the presence of a sturdy man would still be necessary.

This was a place that sold alcohol, and unexpected situations could happen at any time.

"There are plenty of kids who want to stand guard."

But even in the back alleys, there were few people with as deep a connection to Vlad as the dark-skinned man over there.

Knowing that, Marcella did not feel the slightest regret about giving Otar to him.

"As long as you keep staying at our inn from now on, you can take him with you as much as you like."

"I'll do that."

Even if someone shared a deep bond with him, if he only relied on them, they would eventually grow exhausted.

Marcella, who knew that well, was willing to invest as much as needed to firmly hold on to the connection called Vlad.

"If there's anyone you want to work with, bring them anytime. There are plenty of rooms on the fourth floor."

A give-and-take relationship.

Marcella was saying that she would provide Rose's Smiles as the base of operations for the knight called Vlad.

"That's a good condition."

The last remaining knight of the prostitutes smiled as he looked at the Madam, who was no longer a prostitute.

Now he could protect someone even without drawing his sword.

That was what Vlad liked most after becoming a knight.

* * *

The place where the sun set over the city.

Feeling the air change subtly, Vlad was walking toward the western docks.

"It's kind of a waste."

["The price spent on people is better the higher it is."]

There were three bottles of whiskey Joseph had given Vlad as a gift to celebrate his becoming a knight.

One of them had already been used on the white snake, so only two bottles of whiskey remained.

Vlad was on his way to Captain Hoover's base now, carrying one of them.

The fishy smell of water came rushing in with the cold river wind.

The smell of dried fish wafted from here and there.

It could hardly be called a pleasant smell, but as he smelled those scents, Vlad instead felt his heart grow at ease.

"This place hasn't changed."

Having someone to lean on was truly precious.

Whenever he was tired and weary, and whenever he had something troubling him, Vlad had always passed through this place.

Because at the end of this street, there had always been a brown-haired man who welcomed him.

"Let me in."

"Huh? Yes. Yes, please do, sir knight."

Vlad passed the flustered gatekeeper who looked at him, stepped on the creaking wooden planks, and walked down the narrow corridor.

At the end of the corridor, which grew narrower and narrower.

A single shabby door hanging there was the place Vlad was heading toward.

"Haven, you here?"

"Huh?"

At the sudden voice, there came the sound of someone inside scraping back a chair in surprise.

THUMP, DRAG. THUMP, DRAG.

Though it was a tiny room, its owner could not come walking out in a single stride.

"What brings you here, Vlad?"

A face paler than when Vlad had seen him before smiled at the guest who had come after so long.

"Nothing much."

Seeing Haven, who seemed to grow thinner every time Vlad looked at him, Vlad gave a bitter smile and shook the bottle of whiskey he was holding.

"I thought I'd repay you a little for that Captain Q I got from you last time."

"Ohhh."

From the sloshing sound alone, Haven could tell that the whiskey Vlad was holding now was no ordinary item.

A guest had come after a long time, and even brought something precious, so there was no way he could refuse.

"Hurry in. Hurry."

Guided by Haven, Vlad entered the room and let out a small sigh at the sight of his workshop, unchanged from before.

Haven's workshop was so cramped it could barely fit one desk and one chair.

Perhaps because it was right beside the river, it reeked strongly of fishy water, but even so, there was probably no place better than this for the disabled Haven.

"They say you should never take in a black-haired beast, but blond ones really are different."

"What are you talking about?"

After clearing away the stacks of papers piled here and there, Haven smacked his lips and quickly made a place for drinking.

"Did you finish all your work?"

"Work doesn't end. You just keep doing it."

With words that reeked strongly of the hardships of life, Haven pulled out the bottle's stopper and took out a dusty cup from the corner.

"Just a second."

Haven wiped the chipped wooden cup with his own jacket.

Still, since Vlad was a guest, Haven gave him the most presentable cup he had, then grinned brightly as he poured the whiskey.

"All right, then. What brings you here today? I doubt you're asking me to lend you money."

"It's not that."

Watching Haven rejoice over a single bottle of whiskey, Vlad felt a bitter taste rise from inside his mouth.

Because he knew well that Haven was not someone who should be here in such a shabby state.

"Are you still studying that, what was it? Navigation, or constellations, or things like that?"

"Oh, that?"

Only after taking a sip of whiskey did Haven look at Vlad, grimacing pleasantly.

"I quit that."

"... Why?"

No matter how hard one tried to shine, if no one looked their way, they could only dry up and die in the end.

Not everyone could seize the opportunities that came their way as Vlad had.

"Who would use a cripple as a navigator? No matter how I look at it, that much is impossible."

Haven, who did not even have the qualifications to dream, was drying up just like that inside this narrow room.

"... You said you wanted to board a ship."

The smell of the river still brushed the tip of his nose.

Haven was someone who had once dreamed of someday leaving this place, boarding a ship, and going out to somewhere far away.

"This much is enough. People should know their place."

But Haven's dream had ended up locked inside a narrow room at the end of a dark corridor.

The weight of reality never allowed people to keep dreaming.

"... Really?"

Even if one dreamed, not everyone could grasp it.

Even if one made an effort, it did not mean one could have it unconditionally.

Vlad knew that well, so he did not blame Haven.

This was not Haven's fault.

"This place is at fault."

"Huh?"

Haven's eyes widened as he saw Vlad suddenly stand without even drinking.

"What's wrong?"

"..."

A bird long trapped inside a cage forgets how to fly.

Lives trapped for a long time in cramped, dark places also forget their own possibilities.

That could not be called only their own fault.

BANG! BANG!

"Vlad!"

Together with Haven's scream, Vlad began kicking in every direction.

CRACK! CRUNCH!

"Hey, you bastard!"

"It's all these things' fault!"

The pathetic walls blocking Haven from the river.

These shitty things, which broke with nothing more than a kick, had been gnawing away at Haven's dream all this time.

"It's all this place's fault!"

Striking with his scabbard and smashing with his kicks.

Like that, Vlad began breaking down the walls that were blocking Haven without pause.

CRACK! CRUUUNCH!

If you cannot do it, I will do it for you.

Because you did the same for me.

Because you showed me something called a goal above, so I would not be devoured by the darkness of the back alleys.

"Vlad...!"

With a tremendous racket, Haven's room was gradually growing wider.

Disability and reality.

Vlad was breaking down the walls that had used those things as barriers to confine the pitiful Haven.

"Have you lost your mind? Stop!"

As the reality he had struggled so hard to settle into was destroyed, Haven cried out in panic, but Vlad did not stop.

No, he had no intention of ever stopping.

Through effort, Haven had taught Vlad that there was another world.

If not for the world Haven had shown him, Vlad would never have dreamed of the star called knight.

"Now I can finally see it!"

This was a place where the stars could not be seen.

That was why Vlad had to break Haven's walls for him.

Because he thought Haven, too, was someone who had every right to dream.

"..."

Haven saw a single ray of light shining over Vlad's shoulder as he panted harshly.

A red light that even the thickly rising dust could not block.

There, together with the setting twilight, was Soara's river dyed red.

The river wind blew in.

Papers scattered everywhere on the wind.

The realities that had held Haven down all this time were flying away like that on the wind.

"... It is refreshing."

The river was still there.

He had only forgotten that he dreamed of it.

Together with the cold winter wind, Haven drank down the whiskey he was holding.

His head was growing drunk, but his soul felt as though it were waking.