Chapter 58 - Aisha Dragnoff

A few days later, at the foot of the Keloi Mountains.

In a village at the edge of the mountains, Bera watched Renée treat the beastfolk.

Wrapped in pure white divine energy as she healed the wounded, Renée was the very image of a Saintess. That quality had become particularly pronounced since they left the Great Forest.

Had saving Aedrin strengthened her confidence in herself?

She still had that youthful innocence that made her seem a little silly at times. Yet the compassion she displayed while treating the villagers like this made Bera keenly aware of how much she had grown.

Remaining in one place and seeing patient after patient could not have been easy, yet she smiled throughout it all. As Bera watched in a daze, the last patient left before he knew it.

"Bera?"

"Yes."

Her voice dispelled his daze, and he approached her.

"Thank you for your hard work."

"Oh, no. I do it because I enjoy it."

"You are remarkable."

"Really, for something as small as this?"

Renée looked embarrassed. At her dismissive words, Bera continued.

"It is no small thing. Merely stepping forward with a smile to help others makes you worthy of praise, Saintess—"

"... Enough."

"Yes."

Renée let out a small sigh at the way Bera had immediately seized on her words to put her on a pedestal again.

It had been well over a month since they left the Holy Empire. Even after events that could certainly be called dramatic, her romance had made scarcely any progress. That was the reason for her sigh.

Why did he have to be so reverential? The thought suddenly struck her: 'If I said I was going to ascend to heaven right here, wouldn't Bera drop to the ground and bow?' She gave a little shudder, then spoke.

"Where are Sir Norn and Hella?"

"They went to ask about Dovan. We are at the foot of the mountains now, so I sent them in the hope that someone might know him."

"Oh..."

Come to think of it, they needed to find him too.

Belatedly remembering that they had agreed to find a craftsman to work the Proden before entering the kingdoms, Renée continued with a troubled expression.

"... We should have asked Lady Friede for more details. Finding him with nothing but the name Dovan won't be easy."

"Surely there was a reason she gave us only his name. He must be that famous."

"Still, it's making things difficult for Sir Norn and Hella."

"Your thoughtfulness—"

"Don't."

"Yes."

Another sigh escaped Renée, and concern settled over Bera's face.

'Is she very tired?'

He worried without the slightest understanding of what she was feeling.

* * *

"I am told Dovan lives at a smithy he set up on the peak you can see after crossing two passes along this route."

It was Norn who spoke.

Bera nodded as he loaded their luggage onto the carriage, then addressed Renée.

"We should arrive today."

"That's a relief. Are we leaving right away?"

"Yes. I believe we must if we are to arrive before sunset."

"All right. Then I'll have to ask everyone to bear with a little more work."

Renée spoke with a small smile. She always said something of the sort, feeling guilty that they constantly shouldered her share of the work.

"It is our duty."

The reply was as curt as ever.

They finished preparing a little while later, and the carriage set off with a jolting clunk.

Feeling Bera's presence beside her, Renée kept fidgeting with her fingers as she racked her brain. She needed to find something—anything—to talk about.

The situation in the Great Forest had been so dire that it occupied all her attention, leaving no room to advance their relationship. Now that things were peaceful, shouldn't she try to grow at least a little closer to him?

She pondered for a long time.

What should she say? What could they talk about?

The Holy Empire and the people she had treated were out of the question. Bringing either up would only invite another round of that damned praise that made her head throb.

'Stories about the past?'

That was out too. Bera disliked talking about his past, so it would only make things awkward.

After agonizing over it for quite some time...

'Oh.'

Renée brightened as a promising topic occurred to her.

"Bera."

"Yes."

"You're going to make a sword from the Proden, right?"

She asked because she remembered that his sword had been broken in the fight with Gilli. She had heard he was using a spare he had brought along, but she distinctly remembered how disgruntled he had sounded when he told her.

"Yes. If Dovan is willing to accept the commission, I would like to have him make a sword."

"That must be exciting! Um, I've heard knights dream of having a fine sword."

Bera considered her words for a moment before answering.

"I am not sure I would call it a dream, but they certainly feel different in the hand. They are enjoyable to use."

"Oh, have you used one before?"

"Yes, briefly."

Bera answered with his previous life in mind.

He had been so obsessed with accumulating money that he hated spending it. Collecting arms and armor had been his sole expensive hobby.

He understood the value of good equipment better than anyone else on the continent.

He had even considered acquiring the equipment he used in his previous life if their travels took them to the Empire. Now that he had Proden, however, that concern was gone.

With pleasure welling up unbidden, Bera continued in a slightly more relaxed tone than usual.

"Personally, I have high hopes for the Proden. It is not a mineral one can acquire simply because one wants it."

"Is it that rare?"

"Yes. It forms when the mystery dwelling in the ice wall at the far northern edge condenses once every few hundred years, so the supply is practically nonexistent. On the rare occasions it appears at auction, it tends to sell for about as much as a mansion in the center of the imperial capital."

"... Goodness."

Renée looked astonished. She was staggered that a single lump of ore small enough to fit among the carriage's luggage could be worth so much.

"As a result, very few craftsmen can work Proden. We might consider ourselves fortunate that Friede knows one."

"We really were lucky."

"Yes. If he lives in the Keloi Mountains, he must be a beastman... I know no beastfolk craftsmen, so I am curious about him as well."

He was unusually talkative.

Renée gave a quiet chuckle at the cheerfulness in his voice.

Was love making her see him through rose-colored glasses?

In his excitement, Bera seemed like a young boy. The thought that he was cute slipped into her mind, and she immediately blushed at her own reaction.

*'Ahem...'

So Bera liked talking about swords.

Renée firmly tucked that fact into a corner of her mind and listened as he went on.

* * *

After entering the Keloi Mountains and crossing two passes, they reached a small thatched hut.

CLANG! CLANG!

Renée raised her head at the brisk ringing that echoed all around them and spoke.

"Is this the place?"

"Yes. Judging by the metalwork scattered across the yard, I believe so."

All manner of iron implements lay in the hut's yard, from farming tools to things that looked suitable for hunting, with the occasional sword among them.

Bera carefully described the hut before them to Renée, then called loudly toward the interior.

"Is anyone there?"

CLANG!

Though he had called quite loudly, his voice was quickly swallowed by the ringing metal inside.

Just as Bera was about to call again, someone spoke.

"Who are you?"

A head peeked out not from the hut's doorway, but from the back of the yard.

Turning toward the voice, Bera narrowed his eyes at the figure before him.

'A kid?'

The beastfolk girl was short enough to reach only his solar plexus. She had a prim expression, blond hair, and blue eyes, with triangular cat ears standing erect atop her head.

'A feline beastgirl, then.'

While he was still thinking, the girl repeated her question with a wary expression.

"I asked who you were. Can't any of you talk? Are you mute?"

Her tone was aggressive. As Bera began to frown, Renée sensed his reaction and quickly spoke up.

"Oh, is this Master Dovan's smithy? We've come to place a commission."

The beastgirl carefully examined Renée and Bera, then Norn and Hella standing behind them, before replying curtly.

"Wait a minute. I'll fetch my master."

She darted nimbly into the hut, her footsteps pattering.

"She is a feline beastgirl. Judging by the way she speaks..."

"She seems to be Mr. Dovan's apprentice."

"... Yes."

Bera looked toward the hut's entrance again. The sullen face of the girl who had just disappeared lingered in his mind.

*'Somewhere...'

For some reason, she seemed familiar, as though he had seen her before.

* * *

Dovan emerged some time later.

CREAK!

Something sounded as though it was being dragged. When Renée tilted her head at the noise, Bera cautiously explained its source.

"... It is a wheelchair."

Watching the elderly beastman roll out in his wheeled chair, Bera added,

"He is a bear beastman. From what I can see... he appears unable to walk."

Renée gave a slight start and nodded.

The beastman spoke immediately afterward.

"I hear you were looking for me. Who might you be?"

His voice was deep and dignified. Renée smiled faintly at the sound and replied.

"Mr. Dovan?"

"Indeed."

"Hello. We've come to place a commission... Have we intruded?"

"Ah, customers. Come inside, then. Forgive me for keeping you standing."

With another creak, Dovan moved aside from the entrance. Renée took Bera's hand and slowly stepped inside.

The first thing she noticed upon entering the smithy was the intense heat, as though the entire space were glowing hot. Presumably, he had been working until just a moment ago.

"Would you follow me? This is hardly a suitable place for a conversation. I'll show you farther inside."

"Oh, yes."

The room was only about ten steps from the entrance.

As Renée entered, the heat abruptly fell away, and her expression relaxed. Dovan followed her in and spoke.

"My apprentice seems to have been somewhat rude. Allow me to apologize on her behalf. We've had a nuisance bothering us lately, and she's been on edge."

"Oh, no. Well, we're humans visiting a place where beastfolk live. It's perfectly understandable."

"Thank you for understanding. Please, take a seat."

Renée gave a small laugh at Dovan's courteous words. He seemed quite different from the blacksmith she had imagined.

Wasn't that the usual image? When one thought of a blacksmith, didn't a stubborn, hot-tempered person come to mind?

Renée had assumed Dovan might be that sort of man too. Hearing the kindness in his words, she silently offered him a small apology and sat where he indicated.

"Now, what sort of commission have you come to place?"

"We'd like to ask you to make a sword. This gentleman here will be using it."

At Renée's words, Bera bowed his head to Dovan and spoke.

"I heard you know how to work Proden."

"Hm?"

"Friede sent us."

"Ah, that pointy-ears."

"Pfft...!"

A laugh escaped Renée. The words "pointy-ears" had caught her off guard.

"Oh, I'm sorry..."

"What is there to apologize for? It's not as though anyone here would be offended."

Renée lowered her head, her face reddening with embarrassment. Dovan brushed aside her apology, then turned to Bera and continued.

"Yes, I do know how to work it. Pay the deposit, and I'll make it for you. It will take some time, though, so I ask for your patience on that point."

It was a refreshingly straightforward answer.

Pleased by how quickly matters were proceeding, Bera nodded.

"Take as long as you need."

"Do you have a particular design in mind?"

"First, I would prefer a straight sword. As for the length..."

A familiar shape would be best.

With that thought in mind, Bera continued explaining to Dovan, when...

CLICK!

The closed door opened.

The feline beastgirl they had seen earlier entered. The girl Bera had found strangely familiar now looked thoroughly cowed, shuffling in hesitantly while watching Dovan's face.

At her demeanor, Dovan assumed a stern expression.

"Aisha, you were rude to our guests. Shouldn't you apologize?"

Bera jolted at those words, his head snapping up toward the girl.

'Aisha.'

Her name had finally revealed the source of that sense of familiarity.

His gaze swept over her face.

Blond hair. Blue eyes. A feline beastgirl with sharp eyes.

She looked a little younger than the person he knew, but there was no doubt. He had actually fought her. There was no way he could fail to recognize her.

Bera sighed at his own stupidity for only now realizing who she was and stared at the girl.

'... Aisha Dragnoff.'

The hero known as a master of lightning-fast swordsmanship.

That girl was Aisha Dragnoff, wielder of the demonic sword.