Chapter 70, Side Story: Mysterious Rumors

Translator: Barnnn

 

Adventurers lived and breathed information.

Rumors spread easily in Jasted, a city teeming with those who made their living in the wilds and the Dungeon. Most were little more than idle speculation, the kind that got twisted with every retelling.

But when it came to the appearance — or disappearance — of Mystic Beasts, people paid attention. Because, out there, knowing the difference between truth and misinformation could mean the difference between life and death.

 

And lately, a peculiar rumor had begun making the rounds…

 

◆

 

In the Adventurers’ Guild Lounge…

 

“The Goblins are acting strange?”

“No, not exactly. There are just… fewer of them.”

“Goblins, huh? That’d be around the sixth and seventh floors?”

“Yeah. And the sixteenth, where the higher-ranked ones spawn.”

“So only the Goblin floors are affected… What’s going on?”

“No one knows.”

“What the hell? That’s not helpful.”

“Right? I thought the same thing when I first heard it. So I went to check out the sixteenth floor myself.”

“You actually went? That place reeks worse than a long-haul Dungeon crawler’s socks.”

“That’s what I expected too, but… it was different.”

“Not as smelly?”

“Oh, the stench was still there, don’t worry. But — the numbers. Every kind of Goblin, from the grunts to the higher ranks, their population had plummeted.”

“Like someone wiped them out?”

“That’s my guess.”

“But who the hell would go on a Goblin-killing spree in that place?”

“No clue. I’ll dig a little deeper, but for now, keep your guard up on the Goblin floors.”

“Yeah. Got it.”

 

◆

 

In the “Complain All You Want, Just Don’t Puke” Tavern…

 

“Goblin hunting?”

“Yeah. Their numbers have dropped dramatically.”

“So you think some adventurer’s been wiping them out on purpose?”

“What else could it be?”

“No way. Goblin Magicite isn’t even worth that much.”

“Right? Stinking, weak, swarming pests. Who the hell would choose to fight them?”

“Some idiots might think they can make up for the low value with sheer quantity, but…”

“I’d rather not get anywhere near that smell.”

“Think the receptionists know anything?”

“No luck. Tried prying, but I just got that frosty glare. Man, maybe I’ll try again tomorrow…”

“…Why the hell are you blushing about that, you freak? Anyway, if we’re not getting any info anytime soon, it’s probably best to steer clear of the Goblin floors for now.”

“Yeah. Agreed.”

 

◆

 

In the “Sage’s Table” Inn…

 

“A Goblin curse?”

“Y-yeah…”

“What the hell do you mean, a curse?”

“I don’t know! That’s the problem!”

“Then calm down and explain. What happened?”

“I don’t know! I saw Goblins in the distance, then — next second — they vanished. Just… gone.”

“You sure you didn’t imagine it?”

“No way. You know my skill — Far Sight. I know what I saw.”

“And they just disappeared?”

“Yeah. There were five of them. Then there’s a…”

“Yeah? What did you see?”

“…A black shadow. Just for a second. Small. Goblin-shaped.”

“The hell? A black Goblin?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s a stronger subspecies. Or maybe… they’re eating each other.”

“…Eating each other? That’s completely insane!”

“Either way, stay off the Goblin floors for now. Whatever’s going on down there, it’s bad news.”

“Got it. I’ll warn the others.”

“Yeah, you do that.”

 

◆

 

At the Adventurers’ Guild Reception…

 

“Fieda, Hal, Ize — here’s the assessment for today’s loot. If everything looks good, we’ll process your payment as usual.”

“All right. Hal, Ize, double-check it.”

“Hmm… looks good. The pay scales up nicely after the thirtieth floor.”

“That Goblin King on the thirty-fourth wasn’t bad either. Pretty easy to find and take down.”

“And reeked to high heaven. Seriously, you could track it by smell alone.”

“The Goblins on the earlier floors aren’t a joke either.”

“In terms of both numbers and strength, they’re actually great for working on our coordination.”

“Mages and soldiers could use them for target practice or martial arts training… if they can stomach the stench.”

“Emphasis on ‘if they can.'”

“At least Hal’s wind magic and high-pressure water blasts help.”

“Anyway, everything checks out?”

“No issues.”

“All good.”

“All right, then. Split the payment evenly.”

“Understood. That concludes today’s processing. Is there anything else you need?”

“Nope. Thanks again.”

“See you later!”

“Take care out there.”

 

As the receptionist watched as the trio left, her lips curled into a faint smile.

She turned away from the counter, already knowing the truth behind the rumors circulating through Jasted.

But Guild policy was absolute — details of an adventurer’s activities were strictly confidential. And so, with the only person who knew the real story keeping her silence, the rumors would continue to swirl through the city for quite some time.

 

************************************************

 

Light Novel 2 Bonus 1 – Side Story: Catching Up On Mysteries

 

Perspective: Fieda

 

“You know, we gave medals to the adventurers who helped us take down that Beast two months ago…”

 

Samphis, the branch chief of the Horsebus Union, spoke with a smile, but his words made the corner of my mouth twitch involuntarily.

 

◆

 

We were in Abrol, a border town of the Lazulseed Kingdom. I had stopped by the Union office to greet some old acquaintances when the conversation turned to the Mystic Beast that had appeared in the autumn — and the two young adventurers who had helped bring it down. Just as the headache was starting to set in, Samphis walked in from outside, right on cue.

 

“Well, well, if it isn’t Fieda.”

“Been a while, Samphis.”

 

After twenty years in the trade, I’d gotten to know a fair number of Union workers, and Samphis had been one of them since I was just a kid. Neither of us were young anymore. I swallowed a sigh as I took in his rounded belly — a marker of the years that had passed.

 

“Got time to chat?”

 

At his invitation, I followed him into his office. It was as plain and unadorned as the Union branches in the Royal Capital, maybe even sparser than the stables or the drivers’ break room.

 

“So, I hear you quit the horsebus guard business.”

“Already filed the paperwork in the Capital.”

“And now you’re headed to Tajellia?”

“Yeah.”

 

As he spoke, Samphis rummaged through a cabinet behind his desk. A moment later, he turned and set something heavy on the table — a thick, dark brown glass bottle. I couldn’t see the contents, but when he placed two shot glasses beside it, I had a pretty good idea.

 

“As long as you’re not working later, this should be fine.”

“Well, if the branch chief insists.”

Samphis chuckled. “That’s the spirit.”

 

A soft pop sounded as he twisted the cork free, releasing an intoxicating aroma — sweet, with a deep, woody undertone.

 

“One of the finest liquors Abrol has to offer.”

 

Abrol’s distilleries used a special kind of wood in their barrels, giving their liquor a rich, complex scent. This was the kind of top-shelf stuff you didn’t get to drink every day. My throat bobbed instinctively.

 

“You sure?”

“You made it through your years as a guard without a single major injury. That’s worth celebrating, isn’t it?”

“…Fair enough.”

 

Amber liquid swirled into our glasses. We exchanged glances before raising them in unison.

 

“Our journey continues.”

“To the ends of our days.”

 

A traditional Horsebus Union toast. We knocked back the liquor in one gulp.

It burned. A flame slid down my throat, curling into a ball of heat in my stomach before slowly unfurling. I exhaled sharply, letting the burn settle as the aftertaste bloomed — strong, bitter, like biting into aged wood. But beneath it lingered the warmth of sunlit trees, like the scent of a forested mountain road.

 

“…Good stuff.”

“Damn good.”

 

Samphis licked a stray drop off his fingertip, eyes half-lidded in satisfaction. We let the warmth sink into our bones before going for a second pour.

 

“You know,” he said, “losing a guard who’s earned over five medals is a real blow to the Union.”

 

His grin was exaggeratedly mischievous, an expression that didn’t quite suit his usual good-natured demeanor. I couldn’t help but chuckle.

Spotting criminals among the passengers, identifying and tending to the sick as needed — you pick up a knack for reading people after years on the job.

In fact, just recently, I’d come across the most suspicious passengers of my career.

 

“Speaking of which… those adventurers who helped with the Beast — turns out they’re acquaintances of yours?”

 

His words jolted me. My hand faltered, spilling liquor over my fingers. Wasteful. Mimicking Samphis, I licked it off before heaving a sigh.

 

“…Acquaintances? More like my traveling companions.”

“Ah, right. Off on a journey to find their father.”

 

That was the story we had agreed to tell people, anyway. In truth, I already knew what they were — otherworlders. Sage Candidates.

Unsure how to respond, I simply nodded.

 

“They were good kids,” Samphis said. “A little naive, maybe, but with you around, they’ll be in good hands.”

“If I don’t keep an eye on them, they’ll get into trouble, for sure.”

“I believe it. Until they find their father, you should step in as one for them.”

“…Hmm.”

 

Samphis gave me a look — something between concern and curiosity. I had never settled down, never entered a relationship, let alone started a family. And now I was supposed to play father? Those two would be a handful as kids.

I wouldn’t overstep. Wouldn’t pry. But I’d do what I could. Help them travel with peace of mind. Guide the horsebus wherever they needed to go, teach them what they wanted to learn. Let them make their own discoveries, see the differences between this world and the one they’d been pulled away from.

If and when the homesickness hit — when the weight of it felt too much to bear — I’d be there. Until they found their place in this world.

 

◆

 

That conversation had been four months ago.

And now —

 

“Fieda, you should be Ize’s father.”

 

Hal’s casual remark had me clutching my head.

I was still trying to process the revelation that Ize was, in fact, a girl. And now this?

 

“Wait — first things first. Ize… is a girl?”

“Obviously. You didn’t know?”

 

If it were obvious, I wouldn’t be asking. And her age — fourteen? Just a month shy of fifteen? Did the other world have some kind of anti-aging elixir?

 

“…Are all women in your world like that?”

“Uh, well…” Hal pressed his fingers to his lips.

 

Oh, wonderful. The “I shall remain silent” response again.

Well, I had paid attention to the descriptions of female Heroes and Sages, and according to those texts, they should look no different from women here. But maybe Ize was normal, too — like, for a ten-year-old?

I sighed. Before I could fully recover, Hal hit me with another sucker punch.

 

“Oh, and you’re the one giving Ize the bouquet.”

“…What?”

 

Everything around me faded. The noises of the dining hall, the clinking of mugs — it all turned distant.

I put a hand to my forehead and let out a long breath, feeling as if my bones were melting. My thoughts whirled, though I hadn’t even touched a drop of ale.

When I opened my eyes, Hal was watching me, calm and carefree as ever. His expression was always so mild, his appearance so unremarkable, yet his eyes — those sharp, knowing eyes — narrowed with a strong hint of mischief. His lips curled into a thin, sarcastic smile.

 

“Who else would do it?”

“You could just do it yourself.”

“I’ve got my hands full with the outfit and preparations. You need a role too.”

“I don’t–”

“Come on. You’re her guardian now.”

I scoffed. “That’s far too much responsibility.”

Hal chuckled. “What, you chicken?”

 

Then, for the first time that night, he stopped picking at the snacks in front of him and looked straight at me, his gaze suddenly serious.

 

“So here are your choices…” He held up two fingers.

“W-what?”

 

His hand was so clean — calluses had yet to form on them. He wiggled his fingers slightly, as if weighing my fate between them.

 

“Either you give her the bouquet as her father, or she goes to the ceremony without one.”

“That’s absurd!”

“It’s fair. I’ve done my part as her brother. Now it’s your turn — celebrate her coming of age as her guardian. I’m not letting anyone else take your spot.”

 

There was no room for argument. The resolve in his voice left no cracks to slip through.

I hesitated, searching for a way out, but he only grinned.

 

“Face it, Fieda.”

 

I glanced down at my plate — Orc meat jerkies, a recreation of an ancient Sage’s recipe. I picked one up and chewed slowly, buying time.

Hal rested his chin on his hands, wiggled his fingertips again, and smiled.

 

“Come on, you’re happy for her too, aren’t you?”

 

My throat tightened. I grumbled as if to ward off the heat rising in my chest and covered my face with one hand.

I felt as if I were being entrusted with proof that we had become more than just traveling companions. And even if it was embarrassing… I wanted to reach for it.

After a long moment, I exhaled and made my choice.

 

“…All right, first off, what’s Ize’s favorite color?”

 

Hal’s eyes widened — just a little — before softening into a smile.

Then, as I shifted uncomfortably, he burst out laughing.

My face burned red, but strangely, it didn’t feel so bad.

I had a feeling I’d never forget the day — the day my foster daughter came of age.