Chapter 6

# Episode 006

"Try moving your arm."

In the second-floor inn room of the tavern, the innkeeper, who had securely fastened the leather shoulder guard to Ian's shoulder, said.

Ian obediently moved his arm.

"Good."

The shoulder guard fit Ian's shoulder perfectly and did not hinder his movement. The leather straps were also firmly secured.

"The most troublesome part is over."

The innkeeper, who had been muttering, began to tighten the straps of the armor.

Ian asked him to help with the preparations.

It was a necessary task since he would now have to wear the armor like clothes, but that wasn't the only reason he had kept the innkeeper around.

"Are you leaving right away?"

Before Ian could speak, the innkeeper asked first.

Ian shrugged.

"I have a job to do."

"Even so…."

"Anyway, there's nothing else for me to do here. I have to leave."

The innkeeper smacked his lips.

You're really going to miss me, aren't you?

"Alright, let's talk about rumors."

"What kind of rumors?"

"Scary ones. You talk about them a lot."

This was Ian's real purpose.

The tavern was a place where all sorts of rumors gathered, thanks to wanderers, outsiders, and gossipy drunkards.

It was the most convenient way to gather information to set a destination.

A kind of targeted investigation, you could say.

"There are plenty of them. The curse of the Black Wall is spreading like a plague. Which one do you want? A pack of wolves that only eat human flesh? A four-eyed crocodile living in the underground sewers? There are even tales of a headless knight and a fairy that feeds on blood."

These were the kinds of rumors in the kingdom.

Ian even knew that all of them were true.

It was a testament to how chaotic the Dark Age was.

"Any rumors about locations?"

"Locations… There's a rumor about a castle where blood flows from the walls. A cave where you can hear wailing. A forest where no one who enters ever comes out—"

Ian's eyebrows twitched.

This was the story he had been waiting for.

"That sounds good. The Grave Forest, perhaps?"

"Right. It's not as impressive as its name suggests, though."

The innkeeper, who had tightened the straps on the side of the armor, dusted off his hands.

"You never really fit in with the drinking crowd. I'm surprised you know about it."

"You heard the conversation I had downstairs. If you're not happy, you can redo the floor."

The innkeeper, who chuckled, squatted in front of Ian with a pair of greaves.

"There's an underground tomb in that forest. It's said to have been built by ancient fairies, but anyway, it was used to bury soldiers who died during the war with the demons. Instead of leaving bodies to rot, they were thrown into the underground."

Ian thought of the Grave Forest he had seen in the game.

It was a fairly credible story.

"So?"

"Commoners also started burying their dead there. Whether they threw them into the underground or buried them in the forest. They did this until recently. But then the fog started to thicken."

The innkeeper, who had adjusted the greaves to fit Ian's legs, continued.

"Since then, no one who entered has come back. No one goes in there anymore. That's the end of it."

"Has no one tried to solve it?"

"There would have to be something worth finding. It's a place even grave robbers ignore. If you don't go there, there's no need to."

"Indeed."

Ian nodded in agreement.

"That's why I'm interested."

He had gathered all the necessary information.

The innkeeper raised an eyebrow.

"Are you going there with that knight? Do you know what you'll find?"

A necromancer is having a party in the paradise of bones.

Ian replied calmly.

"What could there be in a small village? I'm going to the most likely place first. How long will it take?"

"About a week on foot? No more than ten days. On horseback, it would be faster. The locals know the name and location, so it shouldn't be hard to find."

"Right…"

A week, or at most ten days.

In the game, it was only a ten-minute walk.

While Ian was organizing his thoughts, the innkeeper stood up.

"Is there anything else you want to ask? Or need help with?"

"No. Thanks. I've been a burden until the end."

Ian picked up his sword from the table and stood up.

The innkeeper smacked his lips.

"I didn't expect the room to be empty so soon."

"I told you I wasn't planning to stay."

"Even so, it wouldn't have been bad."

You, brat. You really are disappointed, aren't you?

While Ian was chuckling, the innkeeper, who was looking around the room, asked casually.

"How long do you think this peace will last?"

Ian replied indifferently.

"Not long."

"Of course…?"

"The monsters will come back."

Ian, who had sheathed his sword at his waist, added.

"And the war will start again."

"…"

The innkeeper's breathing paused for a moment.

His once-muscular, now-fat-covered shoulders tensed, a common reaction from someone who had experienced war.

"Don't entrust your future to others. Especially not to mercenaries like me."

Ian patted that shoulder and added.

"You have to protect your nephew."

"…I will. I'll have to use the armor and axe you gave me someday."

The innkeeper sighed.

It sounded like he was accepting a bleak future with resignation, or like an old soldier making his final resolve.

"Are you going to stand there all day?"

Ian, who ignored him, turned around and asked while holding the doorknob.

The innkeeper nodded.

"Go down first. I'll tidy up the room and follow."

"Alright. I'll be gone if you're late."

Ian added as he went out.

"Take care of the axe. It's not something you can use many times."

The door closed with a thud.

The innkeeper smiled faintly.

"So that's why you were generous. I see. Anyway…"

He looked down at his belly.

"I need to lose some weight. War…"

His eyes, as if reciting, returned to those of someone who could do anything to survive.

The past month's memories seemed like a sweet dream.

***

"Oh…"

Philip exclaimed when he saw Ian.

"You look great, sir."

He had a completely different expression from before.

While Ian was upstairs, it seemed he had reached some inner compromise.

"Hmm."

Maeve, who had been sitting across from Philip, also nodded.

Ian, wearing a dark gray leather armor, looked quite like a competent mercenary.

The scabbard at his waist was old, but the sword was new, which gave a sense of reliability.

It meant he had survived even while changing swords multiple times.

"The color is unique. What kind of leather is it?"

"From a kobold chieftain."

"Kobolds are usually brown. Did it get this color from tainted magic?"

"Then, doesn't that mean the armor is also tainted with magic?"

Philip, who had been admiring, now looked uneasy.

Ian chuckled and replied.

"A knight who wants to be one is afraid."

"Fear? Not at all! Not in the least!"

Philip jumped up.

Ian, sitting casually in the chair opposite, added.

"Finish your meal. You need a full stomach for a long journey."

Maeve and Philip nodded and picked up their forks and spoons again.

Bread, meat, stew. The most filling meal the tavern offered.

"Have you decided on a destination?"

A few minutes later, Philip spoke again.

Ian shrugged.

"For now. First—"

Just as he was about to continue, a shadow fell over him.

Ian frowned and turned his head.

A white face full of freckles.

It was a waitress.

"What is it?"

The waitress, who had fixed her gaze on Ian, asked in a low voice.

"Really?"

"What?"

"That you're leaving. With them."

"Right."

"After you finish eating, right away?"

"Yes."

"How can you leave so suddenly?"

"That's the life of a mercenary."

"Even so. But…."

The waitress's voice, which had been trembling, gradually faded.

"…"

Ian blinked blankly.

Philip and Maeve also paused.

The waitress's eyes were brimming with tears.

"…I'm sorry. It's just so sudden."

The waitress wiped her tears, bowed, and ran into the kitchen without looking back.

"Ah…"

Ian chuckled belatedly.

It's true that he had grown attached, but not to the point of making her cry.

While he was looking at the kitchen, he turned his head to the gaze he felt.

"What?"

Philip, who had a smile on his face as if he had seen something interesting, said.

"You have a talent, sir. They say winning a woman's heart is the hardest."

"Nothing happened. We're not close."

"That's not the reaction I saw. That was—"

"Nothing happened. Period."

Ian cut him off coldly.

Philip closed his mouth with a "Yes, yes, of course" expression.

If I cut off his nose, he wouldn't be able to make that face.

While Ian was making this decision in his mind,

"What do you mean nothing happened?"

The innkeeper, coming down the stairs, asked. Ian glared at Philip, who was about to speak, and answered.

"Nothing happened."

"…Let's finish the conversation we were having."

Maeve added.

That was what he wanted.

"I plan to go to the Grave Forest first."

"The Grave Forest…?"

Philip tilted his head.

"There are ominous rumors about it."

"It's on the way to the capital, so it's not hard to stop by. But it would be better if you could provide more concrete evidence."

Maeve's serious attitude made Ian nod.

"The necromancer must have a hideout somewhere. He said he 'planted seeds' everywhere and is waiting for the harvest."

"That's what I expected."

"So, I chose a likely candidate for his hideout."

"But there's nothing there, right? Just graves without tombstones and bones, right?"

Philip said.

Ian nodded.

"It's an environment a necromancer would like. Besides, there's nothing to find, so no one would go there. Problems don't spread outside the forest, so it won't attract attention. I think that's enough evidence."

"Even so, in the heart of the kingdom…."

Philip muttered, not quite believing it.

"Isn't it true that the darkest place is right under the candle?"

The innkeeper interjected casually.

He nodded at Ian and added.

"The problem solver may not be polite, but he's never been wrong. At least you won't lose anything."

"What if it's a wild goose chase?"

Ian scolded.

The innkeeper laughed.

"Well, at least the cursed forest will be gone."

Maeve nodded.

"You both have valid points. I understand. I'll follow the mercenary's lead."

"Ian. Call me Ian, not 'mercenary,' Sir Liurel."

Ian added.

Maeve readily replied.

"Alright. Ian."

Only Philip looked reluctant.

"We'll waste at least a day of our precious week."

"If you're scared, say so. I'll have you wait outside the forest."

Philip's eyes widened at Ian's words.

"Scared? I'll lead the way!"

Ian chuckled.

"Alright. I'll count on you."

Maeve put down her fork.

"We don't have much time, so let's leave now. The meal was delicious. Innkeeper."

Philip quickly stood up and gathered his belongings.

The innkeeper, nodding at Maeve, turned to Ian.

"Safe travels. I hope to see you again."

"You won't. Whether I'm dead or alive."

"Truly, you're heartless until the end."

"False hope only shortens your life."

Ian, turning his back on the innkeeper, who was smacking his lips, started to walk.

Just as he was about to open the door,

"Wait!"

The waitress's voice followed urgently.

Ian's brows finally furrowed.

How much more are you going to drag this out?

When he turned his head irritably, the waitress handed him a bundle wrapped in cloth.

"Take this, problem solver."

"What is it?"

"I packed some ham and cheese for your journey."

"…"

Handing the bundle to Ian, the waitress added.

"Be careful, problem solver. Got it?"

After a moment, Ian, looking into her eyes, finally replied awkwardly.

"Sure. If anyone messes up, stab them with whatever you have. You have good eyes."

The waitress smiled.

Ian, nodding, left the tavern.

It was a not-so-bad farewell after a long time.

Just as a faint smile appeared on his face,

"Sir, did you see that?"

Philip's voice echoed behind him.

"The waitress's eyes were truly heart-wrenching—"

Ian's steps stopped involuntarily.

"Sir Liurel, I have a request."

He turned to Maeve, his eyes cold.

"Can I cut out the servant's tongue? It would be helpful for the journey."

Philip's face turned pale.

"Absolutely not."

Maeve, adjusting her helmet, passed by Ian and added.

"But if there ever comes a time when I have to, I'll ask you."

Philip forced a smile.

"Sir, what a scary joke… Sir? Please say it was a joke?"

"I'll do it for free."

"Ha ha. Both of you have cruel jokes. Well, I'll go get the horse I left!"

Philip, moving like a wooden puppet, hurriedly followed Maeve.

Ian, putting the bundle in his subspace, muttered.

"Horse…"

Riding was not his preference.

Horses were precious to the people of this world, but to him, they were more of a burden and required a lot of maintenance.

But this journey required saving time and energy.

"Can't be helped."

Ian, smacking his lips, started walking leisurely.

Since he had taken a stable job before, he thought he could get a horse at a reasonable price.