Chapter 21……………………….
By the time Adamas and Saphairos arrived home, the sun had already begun sinking toward the west.
The afternoon in the forest was pale rather than vibrant, and the house felt cold—perhaps because it had been empty all day.
BANG BANG! CREAK CREAK.
Just as Adamas finished unpacking and was about to sit at the table, he startled at the violent shaking of the door.
“Uh… Saphairos. I think someone’s here?”
“It’s the wind.”
“The wind bangs like that?”
Sure, it was a bit breezy today, but if it was slamming that hard, wasn’t there something wrong with the door?
BANG BANG!
“It’s ridiculously loud. Is there anything in this house that actually works properly?”
Shaking his head, Adamas slumped onto the table.
Saphairos brushed the ashes in the fireplace to one side, then glanced indifferently at the sprawled-out Adamas.
At that look, Adamas quietly summoned a flame and tossed it into the hearth.
“Are you very tired?”
“Mm. I was standing for a long time yesterday.”
“As I thought. You need exercise. Even now, you should pick up a sword—”
Saphairos said, eyes gleaming as he lifted his new sword.
Hey, stop. That’s civilian slaughter.
“Forget it. Can’t we just rest today? It’s your birthday.”
“My birthday.”
“I’m just as happy, so let’s say it’s my birthday too.”
“W-What kind of embarrassing thing is that… You’ve been acting strange since earlier…”
“Hey, enough. Let’s stop talking about that. Tell me what the Marquis said earlier. About how sooner is better.”
Saphairos, his face flushed, avoided his gaze as he replied.
“The desert expedition.”
“Oh right. That. Say… if the golem didn’t come from the desert, does that mean all the walls we built were pointless?”
“No. The eastern side of the Marquisate borders the desert. Depending on the season, harsh sandstorms blow through. Even if the golem didn’t come from there, the eastern wall still needed repairs from erosion. The problem is the height.”
“The height?”
“If it wasn’t a golem, there’d be no need to build it so high.”
“I see. If the walls get lower, it’ll cut costs too. That’s good.”
“Indeed. What about you?”
“Me? I could leave tomorrow!”
“I knew you’d say that. It’s reassuring you’ll come with me.”
“Oh? Sir Saphairos finally recognizes my worth? Am I giving off the vibe of a pretty skilled mage?”
Adamas shrugged smugly.
“Not a vibe. You are skilled. Even the Marquis holds you in high regard.”
Saphairos said seriously.
“H-Hey… you…”
Why are you complimenting me with that handsome face?
“Finding the mine is something that deserves praise a hundred times over.”
“Hey, stop it.”
Don’t say any more. It’s embarrassing!
“You’re a genius.”
“Ugh, please! Stop! My skin is crawling!”
A genius…
It was a word Adamas hadn’t heard once since his father died.
A gathering place for geniuses.
Francisco Academy, where Adamas had studied, was filled with countless prodigies.
Adamas had talent, but it wasn’t the kind that fit conventional magic ability, so he’d never been called a genius there.
Feeling awkward, he quickly changed the subject.
“Uh… about yesterday’s tournament. Those brothers were definitely suspicious.”
Stefan, the one-armed spear swordsman.
Pantheon, the limping swordsman.
“It felt like they ran away because they had something to hide.”
“Pantheon… have you ever seen him before, Adamas? I hadn’t.”
BANG BANG!
“Mm… not exactly, but… I’ve never seen someone that high-level before. Also—seriously, that’s the wind? It’s way too loud!”
“It really is the wind. Or else… a ghost.”
“A g-ghost?! Don’t say that!”
This Marquisate doesn’t have ghosts too, does it?
“I can tolerate anything else, but not ghosts!”
Adamas said in a deadly serious voice.
Saphairos shook his head.
BANG! BANG BANG! CRACK CRACK.
This time the noise was even louder. Saphairos silently moved his left hand and drew a dagger.
“Wait, Saphairos. I wasn’t ignoring the conversation on purpose. Why are you pulling a weapon?”
“Shh.”
He raised a finger.
Only then did Adamas realize—quietly gripping the purple amethyst ring on his thumb.
Saphairos approached the door slowly, dagger drawn.
He glanced at Adamas as if asking permission to open it.
Adamas nodded.
And the moment the door opened—
“Uh?”
“Huh??”
“What is this? Is this how you welcome guests?”
Standing there was Stefan, the one-armed spear swordsman, a lance one and a half times Adamas’s height resting on his shoulder.
And—
“Haha, greetings.”
Pantheon, smiling brightly, leaning on his sheathed sword like a cane.
The two men who were supposed to have left the Marquisate were standing right here, right now, in front of Saphairos’s house.
Why are they here?
Speak of the devil…
Did they hear us talking behind their backs?
“I thought you had left Mano,” Saphairos said.
“As you can see, I have trouble walking, and my brother—ah, wouldn’t you offer us a cup of tea?”
Pantheon shamelessly dodged the question.
Saphairos quietly stepped aside.
The brothers bowed lightly and entered.
What’s their goal?
If a fight breaks out here…
Stefan and Pantheon are strong, but not stronger than Saphairos.
But if they attack together…
Could Saphairos endure it?
Or worse—what if they attack me first and take me hostage?
Ugh. My head hurts. Why are they here?
“Come in.”
Saphairos moved aside from the doorway.
Adamas secretly sighed and rubbed his forehead.
And so began yet another day in the Marquisate where not even a single day passed peacefully.
Inside…
“Sit.”
Saphairos placed two chipped teacups filled with boiled desert bean water in front of them.
That was from two days ago…
“Drink.”
“…Is this really the only kind of cup you have?”
Pantheon’s smiling face finally twisted into a grimace.
“No.”
Saphairos shrugged.
“Ah, brother, come on. We didn’t come here for tea. Anyway, it’s frustrating.”
Stefan snapped irritably.
“Hey, Saphairos. Fight me!”
A blatant provocation.
“Excuse me? You just barged in here and now you’re being rude—what are you doing?”
“It’s fine, Adamas. Is there a reason you challenge me?”
Saphairos asked.
“What reason? You’re famous across the Empire for being strong. I just want to test you.”
Stefan answered casually, tapping his foot.
Adamas frowned.
Was that really the reason?
Stefan didn’t seem like a true brawler.
He was just pretending.
Adamas couldn’t let Saphairos fight some suspicious stranger.
“If that’s the reason, then even more no. Saphairos needs rest. It’s his day off.”
And it’s his birthday!
“It’s fine. Let’s go outside.”
“Okay. Great!”
Stefan rose and headed out.
Pantheon followed.
What kind of birthday includes a duel?
“Saphairos. Don’t fight. They’re suspicious.”
“I know. That’s why I must confirm their skill.”
“But right now you—”
“Don’t worry. I’m stronger.”
In the open space outside the house, Stefan and Saphairos faced each other.
Stefan raised his long spear diagonally.
Saphairos drew his dagger.
Saphairos normally used two swords—
A rapier as his main weapon,
And a dagger as support.
No matter how talented he was, he’d received his new sword less than a day ago.
It would be hard to fight at full strength with an unfamiliar weapon.
So he chose what he knew best.
Adamas watched anxiously.
Blue eyes met gold.
“Is that long sword just decoration? That flashy red jewel is tacky. Not even in fashion. Are you too embarrassed to use it?”
Stefan taunted.
“It’s too good a sword. I was worried you’d never be able to hold a spear again.”
Saphairos replied with arrogance.
“Then let’s see the genius knight everyone talks about.”
“Come anytime.”
Adamas’s mouth went dry.
This might be even more incredible than the tournament.
But that man…
Pantheon…
I swear I’ve seen him somewhere.
Adamas leaned against the wall and glanced sideways at Pantheon, who watched silently.
“Excuse me. Why did you really come to Mano?”
“Ah, Lady Adamas? You were one of the judges.”
“Yes. I am. But why are you here?”
“I told you. To see Saphairos. His reputation is famous.”
Liar.
Even in a hundred years, Saphairos would only be famous in Mano—a local figure at best.
“At your age, you should at least spit before lying.”
“So your real purpose wasn’t the tournament, but Saphairos?”
“Correct.”
“And that’s why you two kept withdrawing and causing chaos?”
“Your words are sharp.”
“They should be. I’m a judge.”
“How dare you ruin our harvest festival!”
“Haha.”
“Is laughing how people avoid answering in the capital these days?”
“How did you know I’m from the capital? Ah, my tournament registration? I made that up.”
So he openly forged documents?!
“Of course. You’re obviously not Pantheon. Honestly, I can’t believe you’re not nobility.”
“Haha. Perhaps I look refined.”
“You do. You speak exactly like a freshly graduated capital noble from Francisco Academy.”
“And you, Lady Adamas, came from the capital too. Your accent gives it away.”
“No I didn’t! I’m a Mano native!”
“Ha. You’re shameless.”
“As if you’re not!”
“Shameless woman.”
“Scammer.”
“Sc-Scammer?! How dare you, Lady Adamas!”
“Pretty face means nothing if your acting sucks.”
“What? What did you say?”
“I said you’re handsome! But if you want to scam people with acting like that, you’d better at least be handsome!”
“W-What?!”
“Oh my. You stopped calling me ‘Lady.’ How cruel. Lady Adamas is wounded.”
The verbal battle between Pantheon and Adamas spiraled into colorful insults.
Then a new voice cut into the noisy standoff.
“Ugh, why is this mountain so rough?”
A massive bundle of luggage came trudging toward Adamas.
What…?
The bundle is moving?
Huh?
