Igor’s eyes widened as he saw Ruon and Stravo casually walk towards him with a massive unbridled black steed trailing behind them.
“Did you, did you really catch it?” he exclaimed.
The nearby onlookers, startled by the sudden appearance of the muscular warhorse, all wore expressions of surprise as they stared.
The black mare, as if it didn’t like being stared at, was about to lash out, but lowered its head submissively when Ruon raised his palm without looking back.
To an outsider, it was an amazingly perceptive and intelligent response to human gestures.
Igor turned to Stravo and said, “Druid, you’ve truly tamed it. Impressive.”
Stravo turned away, embarrassed by the admiring gaze, and mumbled quietly.
“Well, it’s not like I really did anything, this madman here just wrestled it down…”
Ruon interjected, “Let’s finish up the job.”
The events that followed were truly rapid-fire.
With a single flick of Ruon’s hand, The perceptive black mare lifted the nightmares that had been haunting the children.
Igor breathed a sigh of relief as reports of the children’s improved conditions began to emerge.
“It’s truly fortunate. The children were already weakened, so I couldn’t cleanse the curse without care.”
Stravo looked puzzled and asked, “Hmm? Why is that?”
“When two conflicting forces meet, they tend to create a counterforce,” Stravo explained.
Igor stared fixedly at the black mare’s brown eyes. His face was full of reproachful light.
“I don’t know if you realize how many children had sleepless nights because of you.”
Ruon looked at the black horse, who glanced sideways, as if he didn’t want to listen.
“He knows.”
“What?”
“It’s an intelligent creature.”
Stravo, who had his hand on the black mare’s face, shrugged his shoulders.
“It’s easier to influence kids, right? Probably because they’re less guarded.”
“Wait…”
Igor was bewildered, his mouth agape.
Stravo said, “Anyway, since we’ve got a sturdy horse, at least we’re spared worrying about strained shoulders! I’ll go find a saddle.”
Stravo walked away with light steps. Watching his receding figure, Igor muttered to himself.
“There probably isn’t a blacksmith in this village.”
“Still, since there are people living here, there should be some kind of suitable workshop.”
At that moment, someone approached hesitantly. Turning his head, Igor saw Lena, with her face full of freckles, coming towards them.
“Sir Warrior, here…”
On her outstretched palm lay a small leather pouch. Its contents were obvious without asking.
“No thanks.”
Upon his straightforward refusal, the girl, who had been staring at Ruon with round eyes, turned her head towards Igor.
“I’ll decline in advance.”
Lena’s face turned red. Perhaps due to her freckles, her face looked like a strawberry as she spoke.
“I know it’s not much, but–it’s money the whole village has saved up, so can’t you at least consider it a token of our appreciation?”
He had offered to help for free, so there was no need for them to go this far.
He didn’t know how they could have come up with this kind of money just minutes after the children had been restored to health.
Ruon took the leather pouch in his hands. Two refusals were sufficient.
“We’ll use it well.”
Only then did Lena give a faint smile and look at Igor.
“Actually, we’ve been preparing this money since the priest started praying for the children.”
“Really?”
Igor turned toward the girl with a questioning look, and she responded with a playful smile.
“We’re truly thankful for your warm prayers.”
Her words left Igor wide-eyed, and he instinctively clasped his hands and closed his eyes.
“Mother, your compassion has come back to this lamb…”
Seeing his emotional reaction, Ruon, who was watching, clicked his tongue.
“Here we go again.”
***
The first rays of dawn illuminated the city’s grand walls, signaling the end of the night.
Bakonen, who was observing the outline of the golden-glowing walls from a distance, examined his reflection in the mirror several times.
His full-body suit of armor gleamed. With a satisfied smile, Bakonen put on his helmet and stepped outside.
Several of his companions followed him, yawning lazily as he strode toward the gate.
Bakonen clicked his tongue.
‘To yawn while guarding the city gate with honor—what a bunch of slackers.’
“Here already?”
A soldier leaning against the wall greeted Bakonen.
“Nothing unusual happened overnight?”
“Of course not, motherfucker.”
The soldier, giving Bakonen a sly look, nudged his shoulder and shouted loudly while looking up at the ramparts.
“Shift change! Open up!”
As soon as his shout ended, the pulley system started to creak, and the iron-barred door began to slowly rise.
“Good luck.”
The soldier replied briefly and moved away, leaving Bakonen with a furrowed brow.
He didn’t like the idea of them leaving without a proper handoff, but it was only for a day or two.
As he trudged toward the gate, which was completely unbarricaded save for a few stakes, the soldier behind him muttered lowly.
“With that damned stubborn bastard manning the checkpoint… the people coming in today are going to have a hard time.”
***
‘Why was the speed of the queue so slow? Because of this guy?’
Glaring at the soldier in front of him, Ruon frowned.
Regardless, the soldier continued his questioning with a rigid posture.
“So, what’s your reason for coming to the Great Library?”
“I have some books that I’ve wanted to read for a while.”
“What books are those?”
“Do we really need to discuss that?”
Ruon replied in an irritated voice, feeling the soldier’s eyes scanning the group’s faces from behind his helmet.
The soldier spoke.
“This is Bern. It’s a great city that serves as the capital of Aniara. While a dismissive attitude like that might have been tolerated in other cities with lackluster security checks, it’s not here.”
At that moment, Igor stepped forward.
“As I mentioned before, I am a priest of Tibella. The other two are individuals who share the same faith.”
As the soldier assumed an attentive posture, Igor continued.
“Naturally, we have a significant interest in literature related to Tibella. We’ve come here to learn about the stories the world has recorded about our Mother.”
After the succinct and clean explanation, the soldier nodded slowly.
“Usually, dwarves worship Duermur, right?”
Startled by the soldier’s words, Stravo anxiously rubbed his nose.
“Usual- usually that’s the case, but I’m a bit of an exception. I’m drawn more to Tivela’s mercy and peace, strangely enough.”
The soldier stared at the dwarf as he finished his stammering explanation, then nodded slowly.
“You may proceed.”
As permission was granted, the group moved on quickly.
The soldier, who had been observing the moving group, added, “Don’t think of doing anything untoward. This is Bern. I’ll be watching!”
Hearing the voice from behind, Stravo chuckled.
“He’s one ridiculously stubborn guy. Or… should I say, he’s quite intuitive? We didn’t come here to read books.”
“With half-hearted perception, you wouldn’t survive even guard duty.”
After replying dryly, Ruon raised his head.
If it were an ordinary city, the blue sky would have greeted him, but Bern was different.
Because it was the capital city of the kingdom, under the grand structures that blocked the view, countless people bustled around.
There was hardly any apparent worry or concern in their expressions.
Turning his head to see that Ruon wasn’t the only one surveying the bustling city streets, Stravo spoke up.
“Apostles of Belducius in a place like this?”
Igor slowly nodded.
“I swear his servant said something about the Great Library before she died.”
“Really? I wasn’t there.”
“Sir Ruon, has the Holy Sword shown any changes?”
Since they passed the gate, Ruon had held his hand on the hilt of the sword.
“I don’t sense anything unusual yet.”
Worried that he might have been wrong, Igor’s face turned pale.
“…Shall we head straight to the Great Library?”
Ruon, noting the sun’s position in the west, shook his head.
“It’s too late to move now. Let’s stop by the inn first to rest.”
The party then headed to an inn with a stable.
Handing the reins of the Nightmare to the stablekeeper, Ruon leaned down and whispered lowly into the black horse’s ear.
“No fooling around, just eat some hay.”
The black horse whinnied and Ruon’s party entered the inn, leaving the startled horse behind.
The somewhat perplexing named ‘Tempting Ox Inn’ was bustling even though it was still early.
The party found seats and had a simple meal while discussing their plans.
“Today, we’ll focus on recovering, and we’ll start moving in earnest tomorrow.”
While eating his spoonful of food, Igor weakly responded.
“But what if I misinterpreted her? We’ve been through so much in the past month to come all the way to Bern…”
Taking a swig of beer, Stravo slapped Igor’s back with a loud thud.
“Then we can just leave! Why are you so worked up about it?”
Even Ruon chimed in.
“We haven’t even visited the Great Library yet, and the Holy Sword has been pointing west all this time. I don’t know why it’s suddenly gone quiet.”
In response, Igor forced a smile and nodded.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said something that brought the mood down.”
With no more meaningful conversation to exchange and the food being quite ordinary, the group decided to sleep early.
Handing over a silver coin to the innkeeper and requesting warm water for a bath, Ruon headed straight to his room and collapsed onto the bed.
Stretching out his tired body, he gazed up at the ceiling, recalling the past few days. No, there was hardly anything to recall.
The past month had been nothing more than a monotonous march.
The peaceful journey had lasted until they reached Bern, despite the dire warnings of the man who’d burst into flames.
Perhaps Igor’s sudden silence was due to that.
Even though they had followed his suggestion to march all the way to Bern, nothing significant had happened along the way.
But Ruon’s thoughts were slightly different.
Big trouble always tends to erupt when things are quiet like this.
Thunk.
At that moment, a light knock came from the outside of the door. Thinking it was the innkeeper bringing the bathwater, Ruon got up from his seat, but he suddenly felt a strange uneasiness.
His long-dormant intuition sent a vague warning that the person standing outside the door was not the innkeeper.
Ruon immediately lightly grasped the hilt of the Holy Sword, but there was still no noticeable change.
However, Ruon didn’t let his guard down. The threats to his life were not limited to demons or evil monsters.
‘Is it the waning moon?’
Recalling the name of an assassin group he had encountered some time ago, Ruon silently drew the Holy Sword.
He didn’t hesitate. He turned the doorknob, opened the door forcefully, and simultaneously thrust the Holy Sword forward.
No, he intended to thrust it forward.
With all his might, Ruon, whose arm was restrained, scowled.
“Why are you here?”
“Ouch, isn’t that a bit too rough for a welcoming greeting?”
The man who smiled coolly wasn’t as tall as Ruon, but he had a well-developed body.
Yet, the most eye-catching thing among all of it was the large shield hanging on his back.
With a smile, the man spoke.
“It’s been a while, Ruon.”
