Chapter 58, The Long-Awaited Moment

Translator: Barnnn

 

Returning to their original plan, Ize and Hal stepped into Soup-er Pasta. Hal ordered a seafood soup pasta, while Ize opted for a creamy one.

After their meal, they found themselves on a bustling street lined with food stalls — the same one they had glimpsed from the horsebus two weeks ago.

The crowd thickened — it was now mid-December, the season of celebrations. The wind had turned sharp, though their newly bought jackets kept them warm.

Still, it was clear that this was far from an ideal season for traveling.

They wandered past the vendors, listening to the chatter of fishmongers, stopping to buy vegetables that caught their eye. There was no immediate need to cook, but it felt practical to have them on hand for the journey. Potatoes, carrots, onions — staples of Ize’s non-meat diet.

 

“Looks like we’ve got enough for a meatless curry,” Hal mused.

“Why bother? Let’s make something more reasonable — like, potato stew.”

“Really? Meatless stew?”

“Fine. Ham-less potato salad.”

“Sausage-less pot-au-feu.”

“Now you’re just cheating. What about tempura?”

“I’m more of a croquette guy.”

 

At the end of their back and forth, Hal flashed a triumphant grin for no discernible reason, prompting Ize to jab him in the side as she veered toward the fishmonger.

The moment they arrived, they were struck by the sheer variety of seafood on display — snapper, tuna, salmon, flounder, mackerel, horse mackerel, yellowtail, sardines, cod… and beyond fish, there were octopuses, squid, shrimp, clams, mussels, cockles, abalones, scallops — each glistening in so many shades of colors.

Ize, for her part, barely recognized any of them. With a sigh, she turned to Hal, asking him to use his Eye of Appraisal and read their names off for her.

She was, if nothing else, proud of her city-bred sensibilities. She had never seen whole fish lined up like this before, though she wouldn’t go so far as to claim she had thought fish swam around pre-filleted.

 

“Man, they really are lined up neatly,” Hal remarked.

“Well, that’s why they call it ‘line fishing,’ right?”

“What? No, that’s pole-and-line fishing. And it’s called that because of the tools used.”

“They use poles? I thought they caught fish with nets.”

“You’ve never seen fishing poles in action? Like when they catch tuna on TV — the way the pole bends, and the fish gets yanked clean over the fisherman’s head?”

“I don’t even watch TV.”

“Oof,” Hal groaned. “I’m REALLY feeling the generation gap here…”

 

Only now did he realize that modern kids were raised on video streaming sites, not television. They barely watched the news, checked the weather through apps, and caught basketball highlights in snippets rather than full games.

Ize frowned. Now that she thought about it, maybe she lacked what it took to be a Sage. She had no adult life experience, and even her one special skill — basketball — was a hard sell in this world. She couldn’t even make a proper basketball, let alone set up a court or gather players. If she had been a true Sage, maybe she could have used power and privilege to force the sport into existence… but what would be the point?

As her thoughts drifted and her mood darkened, a voice cut through.

 

“Hey, you boys planning to buy something or just window-shopping?”

 

The fishmonger, an older woman, was staring straight at them.

 

“Oh, sorry, we were just wondering if this is Dungeon-sourced,” Hal explained.

The fishmonger raised an eyebrow. “What? You two ain’t from Jasted, huh? Everything here comes from the Dungeon.”

“But don’t Dungeon beasts disappear once they’re killed?” Ize asked.

“There’s a special way to gather them. You need Guild permission, though.”

 

Hal and Ize exchanged glances. They hadn’t even thought to ask the Guild about it — let alone imagined it was something special enough to require permission.

 

“Wait, really? We need approval from the Adventurers’ Guild?” Hal tilted his head.

“Exactly. There are adventurers who specialize in gathering this kind of stuff.”

“Specialized adventurers? That’s so cool!” Ize said, eyes shining.

“Right? Without them, this whole business wouldn’t run. You can’t underestimate ’em.”

“I’d love to hear more about them,” Hal said.

“Hey, hey, miss!” The fishmonger barely had time to react before Ize jumped in. “Back where I’m from, we eat this fish that looks kinda like an eel — you know, the thing we fought on the ninth floor of the Dungeon. Ever seen anything like that?”

“Eel? Never handled it myself.” The woman wrinkled her nose. “And really, why would you eat those rope-like things?”

“Aww, that’s a shame,” Ize sighed. “But if I asked one of those adventurers to catch one for me, do you think they’d do it?”

“Hmm… doubt it. No one’s gonna bring back something that won’t sell.”

“Well, I’ll buy it!” Ize declared, her passion for eels practically radiating from her.

 

The fishmonger gave her a puzzled look, as if trying to decide whether she was serious.

 

“You know,” the woman said at last, “I do meet those adventurers nearly every day. If I get a chance to bring it up, I’ll ask.”

“Really?” Ize’s eyes lit up.

“Yeah, but don’t get your hopes up. If there’s any update, where should I leave a message — the Guild, or wherever you’re staying?”

“Thank you so much!” Hal said. “I’m Hal, and this is Ize — we’re staying at Sage’s Table!”

“Oh, Etta’s place? Nice choice! I see her all the time, actually, so I’ll leave the message with her, all right?”

“Yes! Thank you!” Hal said enthusiastically.

“Thank you!” Ize parroted. Then, grinning, she pulled out some wrapped pastry. “Here, ma’am! Have some of these delicious sweets!”

 

It was a potato mille-feuille, a puff pastry she had bought in Dukatten and had been carefully rationing for days.

It was, without a doubt, a bribe. A very Ize-like bribe.

Hal watched in amusement. She was so proud of her offering that she practically glowed, her passion for eels blazing behind her like an aura. Of course, there weren’t any actual flames — but Hal still took an instinctive step back, just in case.

 

Then, as she happily selected shrimp with the fishmonger, Ize suddenly stopped. Her gaze drifted somewhere distant.

The fishmonger gave a puzzled expression.

 

“Hey, Ize,” Hal called. “Don’t just go silent like that. It’s rude.”

“Oh — sorry!” Ize snapped back to attention.

“Well, I have a good guess why you’re suddenly like this…” Hal turned back to the fishmonger. “So, ma’am, the shrimp costs this much, right?”

“That’s perfect,” she nodded. “Thanks a bunch!”

“Pleasure doing business! Thank you! C’mon, Ize, you too.”

“Thank you so much! We’ll be back!” Ize said brightly.

“Take care now!”

 

Hal stored the shrimp in his Magic Bag and nudged Ize forward, gently pushing her along as they left the shop.

Ize swatted his hand down with a grumble.

 

“Not so rough.”

“You were spacing out,” Hal said.

“I wasn’t!”

“Oh, but you were,” he teased. “‘Cause you’re soooo impatient about reuniting with Fieda.”

“Ugh…”

“See? C’mon, let’s go pick him up.”

 

With that, Hal took Ize’s hand and started walking.

For a while, neither of them spoke. Ize searched for something to say, some topic to break the silence, but nothing seemed to fit the moment. So, in the end, she said nothing at all.

 

“What’s got you all nervous?”

“I’m not nervous,” Ize grumbled.

“You are.”

“I’m not!”

“C’mon, it’ll be easier if you just admit it.”

“…Maybe a little.”

“Being honest is a good thing.”

 

Hal chuckled, lowering his gaze slightly.

 

“So, how much farther?”

“…Almost there.”

 

Ize’s eyes fixed on a point ahead. She spotted the head of a horse just beyond the crowd, standing on the wide street where horsebuses passed. And beside it, a familiar figure — a broad-shouldered, bearded man. He moved steadily, his hands firm on the reins — no signs of injury. Yet, that familiar gravelly voice had yet to reach them.

 

“Doesn’t look like he’s changed,” Ize murmured.

“Of course not. He’s still the same old guy.”

“Yeah…”

 

Fieda hadn’t noticed them yet. Hal and Ize pressed forward, their eyes never leaving him. Then, as if sensing them, Fieda turned away from the shop he had been scanning and met their gaze head-on.

 

“…!!”

 

Ize’s feet stopped dead in their tracks.

Hal, without rushing her, slowed to a halt beside her and lifted his free hand in an easy wave.

Fieda blinked once, then raised his own hand in return before closing the remaining distance at his usual, steady pace. He stopped just before them, his horse letting out a quiet huff. A warm gust of air from its nose lifted Ize’s bangs.

 

“This one’s got a nice attitude,” Ize noted.

“Yup. Managed to get one of the younger ones from the Union.”

“What’s its name?” Hal asked.

“Hiro. After the Sage who founded the Union.”

“Hiro… is it a boy?”

“Nope. She’s a girl.”

“Huh? Really?” Ize blinked.

“Well,” Hal mused, “there are names like Hiroko or Hiromi, so it’s not completely a boy’s name…”

“Wait — Hiro is a boy’s name?” Fieda asked, frowning.

“Yeah,” Hal nodded. “But sometimes it’s used for girls too.”

“I see… Hiro, how do you like it?”

 

At Fieda’s voice, the mare quivered her lips, as if giving her approval.

 

“The horse — or should I say, the mare — if she’s fine with it, then all’s well,” Ize said. “But more importantly, Fieda…”

“Yeah?”

“You’ve come a long way. Are you hurt at all?”

“I’m perfectly fine — thanks for asking. How about you two?”

“We had some trouble along the way, but nothing major.”

“I see. Well, we can go over the details at the inn. There were rumors about a Triple and an Early showing up near where I was, but it turned out to be baseless gossip.”

“R… right.”

 

Hal and Ize exchanged an awkward glance.

Fieda, catching on immediately, let out a low chuckle — then stepped forward and pulled them both into a firm, unyielding hug.

 

“I’m really glad you’re safe,” he murmured. “And that you made it out of the Kingdom. You’ve done well, coming all this way on your own.”

 

Ize felt warmth creep into her ears at the sound of his voice — familiar, coming from a slightly higher position than she remembered.

 

“…Thanks, Fieda.”

 

The weight of his arm around her shoulder grounded her in the moment, made it real. Without thinking, she pressed her forehead lightly against his solid upper arm.

 

“I’m glad we found each other so quickly,” she admitted.

“Yeah. Seeing your faces again was such a relief. I didn’t realize just how much I’d been worrying.”

 

Same here.

I’m glad you’re safe.

The words tumbled in her throat, soft and warm, like a piece of melting candy — close, but never quite reaching the surface.

So instead, she let herself stay silent — stay true to herself.

 

“Fieda.”

“Yeah?”

“You REALLY need to take a bath.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, Ize’s got a point,” Hal chimed in. “A bath sounds amazing. I could go for a long, relaxing soak right about now.”

“Uh… what?”

“Is there somewhere in the Dungeon that’s a little less frequented?” Ize suggested.

“…Wait, why the Dungeon?”

“Not outside Jasted?” Hal tilted his head.

“The area outside the city is just plains,” Ize pointed out. “Stealth or not, we’d be way too exposed.”

“True. The fifteenth floor might actually be a good choice…” Hal considered.

“–Hey.”

“But what about the Blood Bears?” Ize asked.

“Is that a problem?”

“Maybe we should check out some other floors first?”

“Hey!”

“Fieda, cleanliness makes the man,” Ize declared.

“…Huh?”

“I mean, hygiene is important. It affects your relationships, you know.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Hal agreed. “And since we’ll be sharing a room, you really don’t want to ignore this… Oh, you know what, we could just use the inn’s bath.”

“Guess we’ll have to compromise,” Ize sighed.

“Yup. That’ll do for now.”

“Hey, stop leaving me out of the discussion!”

 

Fieda’s familiar grumbling struck a chord of nostalgia, sending Hal and Ize into laughter.

And just like that, two journeys came to an end — Hal and Ize’s time as a duo, and Fieda’s long solo trek.

Now, the three of them would be setting out together.

It was time to welcome their new adventure — and the new year that was just around the corner.