Chapter 148 - A Great Legacy (5)

There are days like that sometimes. Days when a passing whim leads to unexpected good fortune. For Amelia Reinweils, today was just such a day.

Who could have known she would find this bastard atop the ramparts, where she had wandered to clear her head?

"Ligar Vagos."

A member of Orculus, one of the two powers that divided this accursed city between them... and the one among them she had particularly wanted to kill.

There he lay unconscious on the ground. In this isolated spot, battered from head to toe—and all alone.

'... Did he open a dimensional gate to escape? Is that why he landed here instead of the plaza?'

That was the first possibility that came to mind. The Dragonslayer's team had no mage, but it would have been possible if he had sacrificed that pitiful old man he always dragged around.

Still...

'What on earth did he encounter in there to end up like this...?'

Amelia dismissed the question. It didn't matter who had reduced him to this state. All that mattered was that the prize had been handed to her on a platter.

First, she bent down to check his pulse.

'Still alive.'

It had been roughly two hours since the Labyrinth closed. Judging by the circumstances, he had probably been unconscious all that time. An ordinary person would have struggled to survive that long, but this man was anything but ordinary. The spike embedded in his shoulder had probably helped stem the bleeding, too.

"You..."

He struggled to open his eyes and stared at her. Apparently, sensing someone nearby had brought him around. Before he could say anything else, Amelia spoke.

"Dragonslayer, do you have any potions?"

"Waist..."

"I see."

Amelia unfastened the pouch at his waist and took it in hand. Then she asked another question.

"I'll pour on a potion. May I pull this thing out?"

"Get on with it..."

The moment he answered, she pulled out the spike, and the bleeding resumed. Left like this, even the Dragonslayer would surely die. Amelia simply stood and watched.

"What're you... Hurry, the poshun..."

Only then did he sense something was wrong and ask. She answered with a question of her own.

"Why should I?"

"You... had a contrac'...?"

"Oh, you mean the contract?"

Amelia couldn't help letting out a small laugh. Long ago, the lord of Noark had made her enter into a certain contract. It was famous enough that everyone living in the city knew about it.

She could not commit murder within Noark. The contract was engraved into her flesh, making it impossible to violate. However...

"You're the one who asked me to pull out the spike."

She had merely done as he asked. Of course, this was her first time trying this sort of deception, so she hadn't been certain it would work. But if it violated the contract, she wouldn't have been able to do it in the first place.

"Damn... bitch..."

Amelia put the entire pouch she had taken from him into her subspace. Then she stripped him of his other equipment as well: the dagger at his waist, the rings on his fingers, his wristguards, his necklace, and more. They were all things she had had her eye on for some time.

"Thank you for landing here. I'll put these to good use. Oh, but who did this to you, anyway?"

He gave no answer to her mocking question. He merely glared up at her in fury.

Rather than prolonging the conversation, Amelia leaned back against the rampart and watched him. To avoid any trouble later, she intended to make certain he was dead before leaving.

But perhaps his time hadn't quite run out yet.

CLOP, CLOP.

Before long, she heard the rampart patrol approaching from a distance. Amelia made a quick decision. Everything the patrol saw and heard would be reported to the lord. If they caught her, it was over.

"You're lucky, Dragonslayer."

She smacked her lips in disappointment. His death would have weakened Orculus by that much.

"You... won't get away with this."

Realizing he would live, he muttered through clenched teeth. He would make her answer for this.

But Amelia merely shrugged and stepped closer.

"It doesn't matter. You won't remember any of it anyway."

"... Wha'?"

She took out a pill and held it in her hand. Called Lete's Blessing, it had been developed by an alchemist in Noark. Though it had the disadvantage of not working on evil spirits, it offered the convenient ability to erase memories simply by making someone swallow it.

"Dammi'!! Mmph, mmph!!"

Amelia clamped a hand around the struggling man's jaw and shoved the pill down his throat. Incidentally, the one she had just used was not the standard-issue version. Its effectiveness diminished with higher Spirit Status, so to be safe, she had used the best one she possessed.

Hadn't the alchemist said an ordinary person could lose up to a week's worth of memories?

'Considering who I'm dealing with, better to be certain.'

She didn't particularly regret using it. It wasn't something she could simply replace whenever she wanted, but considering what she had gained today, she wasn't coming out behind.

Besides, the more memories he lost, the better. He would think he had lost his belongings in the Labyrinth; surely it wouldn't occur to him that he had been robbed here in the underground city.

'Whoever you are, I suppose I owe you my thanks.'

Listening to the patrol's footsteps drawing ever closer, Amelia swiftly left the ramparts.

* * *

The ring that could ward off up to three death flags involving Ligar Vagos had lost one of its uses. Not even ten minutes had passed.

'Surely it won't burn through a use every day or something, right?'

I forced down the sudden surge of anxiety. There would be plenty of time to complain if that happened, and I didn't think it was very likely anyway. After all, this was supposedly the word of a goddess.

["You must prepare to overcome your fate before all the ring's vines break."]

Through her vessel, the goddess had told me to prepare. She had said that despite knowing how vast the gap between us was. Surely she wasn't shameless enough to say that and give me just a month or two.

'... Right. What matters in the end is when the last vine breaks.'

I steadied myself by recalling the proverb about three acorns in the morning and four at night. What did it matter how many you got in the morning? What mattered was the total number of acorns. In the ring's case, that meant the total amount of time it would give me.

'Let's just do what needs doing.'

With that in mind, I briefly discussed the reward and left the temple. Apparently, they would pay us when we returned tomorrow.

"Then let's go back and rest for today, and meet again tomorrow."

We settled on a meeting place and were about to head back to our lodgings when the dwarf hesitantly stopped us.

"Listen, I don't know what you'll think of this, but... once we get the reward, how about setting aside Dwalki's share and donating it to the orphanage?"

"I'm... fine with that, nyah. We wouldn't have gotten the money without Dwalki, nyah."

"I agree. In truth, it would be rather absurd for me to claim a share of such a large sum."

In short, he was proposing that we each set aside 3.5 million Stones to donate to the orphanage. Unlike my companions, who agreed without much thought, I kept my mouth firmly shut. It wasn't remotely rational. We had a formidable enemy in the Dragonslayer. If we wanted to carry on Dwalki's wishes, the right thing to do was to use that money to make ourselves even a little safer.

"... Bjorn, you don't have to do it, nyah. You went through more than any of us in there, nyah."

"R-right. We're doing this out of guilt, so don't feel you have to join us."

When I remained silent, my companions cautiously offered those words. All I had to do was nod, and that would settle the proposal. But...

"Let's discuss this properly the next time we meet. We haven't even received the money yet."

For now, I put off making a choice. It was clearly a proposal I should have rejected outright, yet I couldn't get the words out.

Sigh. This was why you had to be careful about getting attached to people. It made rational judgment difficult. My old self wouldn't even have agonized over something like this.

"... See you tomorrow, nyah!"

We parted ways and headed to our respective lodgings. I, too, walked through the peaceful streets for about an hour before arriving at the inn, where I washed the blood and sweat off my body with clean water.

Then, as I lay on the bed staring blankly, someone knocked on my door. It was Erwin.

"Um, Mister? Are you there?"

When I opened the door, she stood there in a fluttering skirt, apparently having already washed and dressed herself. I talked with her, thinking she might need something, but it was mostly idle chatter about what had happened to her in the Labyrinth.

Right. This used to be an everyday occurrence. Normally, I would have listened with interest, but today that was difficult.

"Erwin, I'm tired. Go back for today."

"What? But I'm just getting to the really interesting part..."

"Next time. I'll hear the rest next time. I'm tired today, so go back."

"Okay..."

When I firmly insisted she leave, Erwin went away with her pointed ears drooping. Silence settled in. I spent a long time alone within it. When there was a problem, it had to be fixed.

'Surviving.'

Ever since I had opened my eyes in this body, that had been my greatest objective, and it still was. The problem was how I went about achieving it.

["... Barbarian, you kept your oath, didn't you?"]

I had broken a warrior's oath in front of everyone. And while taking the lead in guiding the team, I had done countless things that were bound to strike them as strange.

At the time, I had justified everything in the name of survival, but I knew the truth. Ultimately, all those actions had been rooted in trust. If any of them had suspected me of being an evil spirit, I wouldn't have done those things even with death staring me in the face.

["... Hey! Come on, my friend! Stay with us!"]

The same was true of splitting the top-tier potion between Rotmiller and Dwalki. It had been an irrational choice that endangered not only everyone else, but me as well. My dilemma earlier wasn't much different.

'3.5 million Stones...'

It was time to admit it. I had grown weak. The reason was simple: I had become attached to other people. A serious flaw had developed in my rational way of thinking—my greatest strength.

Perhaps that would be fine if I wanted to make a life in this world. But with survival as my top priority, it was not a problem I could ignore. So what was the solution?

"..."

I still hadn't found the answer when I fell asleep. And the next morning, I received a letter.

The sender was an administrative branch of the Explorer Guild. It informed me that I had been named an heir to Leor Wuerv Dwalki's estate and instructed me to come collect my inheritance.

* * *

"You received one too?"

"Yeah. You too, then?"

That was the first conversation we had when we met up the following day. Apparently, all four of us had received letters from the guild... but Dwalki had definitely named the orphanage as his beneficiary. So what was going on?

"... Rather than discuss it among ourselves, I think we ought to go to the guild and ask them directly."

As the dwarf suggested, we all visited the guild. After hearing the details from the relevant department, we learned it wasn't an administrative error or anything of the sort. Dwalki had updated his will and named the four of us as his heirs. He had done it last month, which meant...

"... After we fought the troll."

After nearly dying to the troll, the first thing Dwalki had done upon returning to the city was update his will. He had already been preparing for it. For the worst of the worst—something I hadn't considered. That ever-positive, hopeful man.

"..."

We received back every piece of Dwalki's equipment and his backpack that we had handed over to the guild, along with ownership of a house he had possessed while alive. Then we left the building like defeated soldiers.

"I wonder... whether we can ever repay the debt we owe him in our lifetimes."

"Dwalki wouldn't have wanted us to repay him, nyah."

"Yes. I'm sure he wouldn't have. So let's each use the money he left us however we wish. If he had any wish at all, that would be it."

Afterward, we went to the temple and collected the reward as well. The pope was apparently busy and couldn't meet us; everything was handled through Crovits. I told the others to go ahead to the tavern and stayed to speak with him briefly.

"Can you promise to keep everything I say from now on a secret?"

"Please speak freely. So long as it does not go against the goddess's will, I swear not to reveal our benefactor's words to anyone."

The part about not going against the goddess's will bothered me a little, but without much hesitation, I took out the Arc longsword and showed it to him.

"... The Dragonslayer's sword."

"For some reason, it rejects us when we try to use it. Do you know why? If it's a curse, I'd like to ask you to lift it."

"The power residing in that object is not a curse."

Crovits seemed to know about the sword, for his explanation flowed without a single pause. It was a long story, but the gist was simple. The sword's original name was the Dragon Sword. It had only come to be called the Dragonslayer Sword after Ligar Vagos killed the guardian dragon and fled.

"Since ancient times, only dragonkin have been able to wield this sword. It was passed down through generations of guardian dragons, who enjoyed lives approaching immortality."

"But he couldn't use it properly."

"Ah, that is because of the Dragon's Curse."

Before dying, the guardian dragon had left a curse behind. Because of it, Ligar Vagos had become a dragonkin who was no longer truly a dragonkin. His characteristic dragon scales had burned and peeled away, and even his heart, the source of his power, had become more like a human's. He had committed the sin of betraying his own people to obtain the sword, only to become unable to use it.

"I understand that he spent a long time searching for a way to escape the curse. But from what you have told me, Mr. Jandel, it seems he never found a way to overcome it completely."

"In any case, he was the one who was cursed, not the sword."

"Yes, that is correct."

I then asked him how best to dispose of a sword we couldn't even use, and Crovits gave a brief answer.

"I believe the wisest course would be to return it to the dragonkin and receive appropriate compensation."

Right. So that really was the only way. Since only Draconic humans could use it, selling it as stolen goods would be difficult too. I would think that part over later.

"I see. Thank you for the advice."

"Not at all. You are a benefactor of our order, Mr. Jandel. If you need my help, please visit at any time."

"Oh, does that mean I can get blessings for free from now on?"

"Haha, that would be a little..."

I had asked just in case, but Crovits drew a firm line with an awkward laugh. He would have liked to, apparently, but there had been another oracle this morning.

"The Twilight Star said that all things would follow their natural course, and that we must not misinterpret her will and try to defy that course."

Somehow, it felt as if the goddess were telling me she had settled her debt by giving me a sacred relic, so I shouldn't try to squeeze anything more out of her.

"Still, I can always lend an ear to your concerns, so please come whenever it is convenient."

With those suitably religious words from Crovits, I left the temple and headed to the tavern we had agreed on.

"Ah, you're here. Have a seat."

All three were already drinking. But the mood was entirely different from our usual post-expedition gatherings. There was no laughter or chatter. They simply drank.

It struck me all over again. We had earned more than ever before, but we had also lost more than ever before.

'The seat by the window is empty.'

The same table at the tavern the five of us used to visit. But now there was an empty chair that would never be filled again. We didn't mention it at all, instead discussing practical matters.

"Let's divide all the remaining money, including the reward, into four equal shares."

"Agreed."

Even the dwarf, who had initially proposed splitting it five ways and donating a share to the orphanage, simply nodded. I had more or less expected it. The proposal had been made to respect Dwalki's wishes in the first place. If he had wanted us to use the precious property he had left behind, we would honor that wish.

The dwarf and everyone else drank as they quietly mourned Dwalki. So I, too, simply spent the time that way.

"He wasn't... supposed to go like that..."

After downing drink after drink, the dwarf was the first to slump face-first onto the table. Rotmiller left, saying he would take him home, leaving only Misha and me.

"Bjorn, let's head back too, nyah..."

As always, the two of us walked back to our lodgings together. Misha staggered, having drunk too much.

"Lean on me."

"Ah, thanks, nyah."

It was still afternoon, the sun shining brightly. Reeking of alcohol, we made our way through the crowded streets.

As usual, we reached my lodgings first. It was time to part ways. Yet we stood motionless before the door, looking at each other.

"..."

"..."

Perhaps it was the alcohol, but the air felt strangely heated. Yes, normally, that was what I would have told myself. It was much easier that way. It was what suited my circumstances. I would have pretended not to notice and brushed it off like a barbarian. But...

"Ah... I-I should go now, nyah. Get some re—"

"Misha Karlstein."

As she looked away first and started to turn, I stopped her. After all, I had made him a promise.

["You are perceptive. Please... stop turning a blind eye."]

He had told me not to look away. In those precious moments when he could have confessed his feelings to Misha, those were the words he had chosen to leave with me. And I had told him I understood. So...

"Hm, nyah?"

It was time to face this head-on. With her wrist caught in my hand, Misha looked at me questioningly.

I steadied my breathing, cleared the alcohol from my head, and asked her outright.

"Do you happen to like me as a man?"

It wasn't a romantic line, nor was the atmosphere particularly romantic. It was merely a blunt question tossed out like a barbarian.

But Misha didn't get angry. Nor did she laugh it off and ask what nonsense I was talking about.

She flinched for a moment, then avoided my eyes and looked down at the ground. After scuffing her foot against it a few times, however, she raised her head to look up at me. And she answered softly.

"... Yes, nyah. I like you. As a man, nyah."