Chapter 280 – Darkmtl

Chapter 280


278. Engagement Ep – Link

“If we ask the Holy Woman, we’ll know.”

With that irritating comment, Arpen summed up the situation. Ray, who had been discussing the prophecy, felt disheartened.

Why do I feel like I’ve drawn the short straw?

However, Arpen’s next words stirred up a bit of anger within Ray that went beyond mere disappointment.

“You should have just asked the Holy Woman from the start… Tsk, tsk. Huh? Is it already this late? Noel, wake up. How long are you going to sleep?”

“…Huh? A-Are we done?”

“Yes. You haven’t changed a bit. I’ve decided to contact the Holy Woman. Hmm, for now, you should report to the Knights Order starting tomorrow. Regardless of whether the prophecy is right or wrong, that part remains unchanged. I should let the Prince know as well.”

“…Baron, I don’t mind telling the Prince, but if this reaches the King’s ears, it could be a problem…”

Arpen cut him off with a dismissive wave.

“Ah, you’ve got a lot of worries, young man. So much chatter… I’ll handle it, so don’t worry.”

…Ugh. A vein popped out on Ray’s jaw. What kind of person is this? He was about to snap back but stopped himself.

“Yes. I’ll… count on you. Please take care of it.”

“Right, right. I shouldn’t delay; I need to head to church right away! Butler! Prepare the carriage. Ah! Make it two!”

Arpen departed in his carriage.

Ray and Noel returned to the Dexter mansion in the carriage Arpen had lent them, and Ray had a nagging feeling.

“Father. But can we really trust that guy?”

Noel responded gently, as if he understood his son’s concern.

“Everyone thinks that way when they first meet Arpen. Don’t worry. He’s not one to act recklessly. Besides, everything has gone according to plan.”

“That’s true…”

Ray, who hadn’t expected Arpen Albasete to be so trusting, kept the Holy Woman as his last card in mind.

It would be tough for anyone, no matter how noble, to communicate with the Holy Woman, and it typically took months to receive a reply. But since it was a question for one of the three Swordmasters on the continent, he assumed the response would come swiftly.

Additionally, he needed to borrow the power of the Barnau church to confront Malpas, so in the end, it worked out. It worked out, but…

Sigh.

Ray let out a sigh of frustration. I’m the one who feels let down. It’s not the time to be picky about hot and cold. He rested his chin on the carriage window and began to plan for the future. At that moment,

“It seems you remember Jensen.”

His father asked quietly. Ray simply turned his head in silence and didn’t respond.

Noel continued.

“Jensen knows nothing. He probably still thinks Iberia is alive. In fact, I was worried about how to handle him when we met today. It felt like you knew something, and that made me even more anxious.”

This wasn’t originally Ray’s plan. Before persuading Arpen, he intended to visit Jensen Bailei, the Second Knight Commander, to “request” he contact the Holy Woman.

Jensen was the younger brother of the Holy Woman, Maryel.

But what he had completely forgotten was that Jensen was not in the capital. He was out on the border preparing for war, so he turned back from Jensen’s mansion at Noel’s suggestion to visit Arpen instead.

Jensen. Jensen Bailei.

There was a past that needed to be addressed and settled with him. In the back of Ray’s mind, the bloody sight of a knight was clear.

Ray clenched his teeth, then relaxed. This was not for himself, but for his father.

“…It’s just an old matter.”

“Yes. It was a long time ago. Now that you’ve gathered your thoughts, I’ll say this: it wasn’t just Jensen’s fault that your mother passed away. I, too… had a part in it.”

The father and son fell silent.

The carriage moved on in silence. Soon they arrived at the mansion, but their heavy silence showed no sign of lifting. The creaking of the iron hinges sounded as they were about to reveal another connection.

“Welcome back!”

Leira Ainar greeted them, wiping the sweat off her forehead. Noel recalled his wife through her, and Ray smiled. New sprouts were starting to bloom in the frozen earth of winter.

*

Hoo- A smell of sweat filled the square table. Hot droplets of sweat fell as muscular men groaned, trying desperately to topple each other. This was an inn in Barnau.

The first floor of the inn was a tavern with a long wooden table shaped like a “ㄱ,” crowded with people. Toothless grins, strawberry noses, cross-eyed expressions… Various shapes of people cheered, as victors and losers embraced each other.

“Wow, that was a fantastic match! You’re impressive!”

“Haha! No one can best me in strength! You’re a monstrous friend, right? Dehorman, of the Ainar Tribe.”

“That’s right! You’re Baral Abiker, aren’t you? Hahaha, have a drink! May Lachar’s blessing be with you!”

The warrior named Baral shouted, “May the blessing of the mighty crow be upon you!” and toasted before clearing out. With a triumphant spirit, Dehorman said,

“Alright, alright. Next! Is there no warrior brave enough to challenge Dehorman Ainar? If not, that’s disappointing! Hahaha!”

“I’m here! I’m Kali Toluka of the Toluka Tribe!”

The next challenger appeared quickly.

This time, compared to Dehorman, he was smaller in size but seemed stout and confident. The two warriors shook hands and immediately sat at the table to begin arm wrestling, as the surrounding warriors laughed, guessing the outcome.

Even in broad daylight, the place was packed.

It’s only natural for an inn that sells food and drink to be crowded at night and empty during the day, but many inns in Barnau were bustling like this.

Warriors from various regions of the Austin Kingdom had come early to participate in the Maunin Festival, which would take place in early summer.

The festival honoring the founding king of the Asran Kingdom, Maunin, still had some time before it began. However, since this festival wasn’t hosted by the royal family or any particular group, many people were eager to come early and enjoy the celebration.

By now, one would expect the festival committee to have formed and people from various sectors to gather to begin preparations, but that wasn’t the case.

Rumors of impending war with the Belita Kingdom were widespread.

The royal family had already issued a mobilization order.

Conscription had begun in Barnau, which was directly governed by the Klaus family, and soon soldiers from all over the kingdom would be mobilized, leaving the festival discussions in the dust. The warriors who had come here excitedly anticipating the Maunin Festival found themselves anxiously observing the situation.

Should they return now, or should they join the fight since they came all this way? As each warrior pondered their thoughts, the large warrior identifying himself as Dehorman Ainar began boasting,

“Is there anyone stronger than me in this world? No? None! Hahahahahaha!”

He wandered from inn to inn, showing off his strength.

Anyone who hears that and doesn’t step up to the challenge isn’t a real warrior. Bored warriors flocked to him like bees, and with a record of 107 wins, 3 draws, and 0 losses, even the more reserved great warriors heard the news and came to visit.

The innkeeper, who often welcomed Dehorman, wore a beaming smile. For him, food and drinks were free.

There were even other innkeepers who promised a reward for any warrior who could defeat Dehorman, so he took it upon himself to officiate. Of course, he was biased toward Dehorman.

“109 victories, 3 draws, 0 losses! That’s enough! Take a break now, it’s meal time. Today’s special dish is ready!”

Hoo! The blatant sales tactic elicited laughter.

However, the warriors laughed for another reason.

“Today’s special dish? I’ve been coming here for a week, and all I’ve gotten is ‘Hunter’s Stew’!”

“It must be the ‘Perpetual Stew!’ So calling it today’s special isn’t entirely wrong! Hahaha!”

Even while saying that, the warriors accepted the thick stew being served by the innkeeper. It was a type of pottage, and various nicknames like ‘hunter’s stew,’ ‘eternal stew,’ and ‘endless stew’ had been attached to it because of its cooking method.

Typically, it was called hunter’s stew. But what made this dish special was…

“Wow, looks like spring has arrived. There are other vegetables besides Radimu in here?”

“I’ve got greens in mine, too.”

It meant any ingredients could be used. Anything edible could be tossed into the pot, simmered together, and whatever was left over could be put back in with new ingredients to add to the brew, then eaten, and repeated over and over.

Thus, it is eternal, endless stew.

Surprisingly, it tasted great. The flavors of all the added ingredients combined to create a rich umami, making this stew a point of pride for the innkeeper.

“How could it not taste good? This stew was cooked even during the Nine-Day War! My father made it, my grandmother made it, and my great-grandfather made it. Ah, don’t worry! We clean the pot sometimes. Hahaha! Your faces were priceless just now. Huh? Come in!”

A moment of silence settled in the inn as a young man entered. He seemed to have lost his appetite and hesitated in front of a huge bowl of stew before approaching and sitting beside Dehorman.

“How’s it going?”

“…Yeah. Have you eaten?”

“Yes. I just finished with Leira.”

It was Ray Dexter. Dehorman, who had been about to offer him some of his stew, wore a reluctant expression as he picked up his spoon again.

You’ll be cursed if you scowl at food.

Ray lowered his voice to ask, “But if we’re doing this, will the warriors really help us?”

“Of course! Naturally. It’ll be up to them to help, but… gulp, you wouldn’t understand since you’re not a local, but once we’ve shared a drink, we’re brothers. Just wait. I’ll bring every warrior here with me. I can’t hog the trials to myself.”

……What could be good about that? Ray completely failed to understand the logic of these barbaric warriors, but he chose not to say anything.

His father, Noel Dexter, would be reporting to the knights, Leira was intensifying her training, and Dehorman was making connections with the barbarian warriors. Meanwhile, Ray had nothing to do.

He wondered when an answer would come from Baron Arpen Albasete (specifically, from the Holy Woman). Waiting around, he’d thought of something and stepped outside. He had only stopped by here on the way.

Ran and Anne.

He should take a look for those sisters who had been released from their bounds. They’ve brought about some changes.

Baron Arpen Albasete had not appeared on the battlefield last time.

In fact, he might not have appeared on the battlefield for the entire time. The episode when he met Ran and Anne was the 14th episode, and if they had somehow influenced Arpen, it would have continued to be the case.

He never believed that the mothers who wanted to hunt monsters during the last engagement episode could have affected Arpen. The Swordmaster couldn’t remember the name of some random girl. He suspected the influence was from the beggar siblings’ episode instead.

However, after going through the last episode, he found himself back at square one.

The beggar siblings’ episode had merely influenced him, and Baron Albasete’s absence on the battlefield must have arisen from their engagement plot itself. That just left the sisters.

He had, of course, already asked Arpen about it. Did he know the pair of native warrior ladies in their twenties, Ran and Anne Abiker?

Arpen answered that he did not know them. He even (outrageously) asked if Ray would introduce him to them, and his expression of disappointment upon hearing that they were married with children was unmistakable.

As expected, there was no link.

But since Astroth descended and Malpas appeared with his iron wings… Due to that mess of the last episode, Ray had learned something. Now that he understood the reason for the Swordmaster’s existence, he had a slight idea of what that link could be.

Ray bid farewell to Dehorman, who was like a father-in-law to him, saying, “Please don’t push yourself too hard,” before leaving the inn. He entered the marketplace located south of Barnau’s inner castle, following the path indicated by {Tracking Skill}.

Since {Tracking Skill} only provided direct paths, Ray found himself a bit lost. As he wandered through the market, where stalls covered the ground and alleyways opened up in all directions, he suddenly felt a shiver run down his spine.

Here it is.

The red octagonal sign of divine power. The unmistakable trace of Malpas covered the alleyway right before him.

That alley led deep into the market, onto a street where artisans worked. As Ray carefully stepped in, the sound of children singing reached his ears.