~Chapter 36~
Come to think of it, right next to the magic stone shop was the blacksmith’s forge. The old man coming out of it spotted me and ran over quickly.
“Out for a walk, and here you were? Hm?”
“Your beard, your beard…”
Rubbing and rubbing, Grandpa picked me up and rubbed his face against mine to his heart’s content before finally pulling back.
“Ha, really. What a sight.”
“Oh, Mr. Blacksmith.”
“Hello. Want to pick out some pretty pieces of iron?”
“No… maybe later…”
Hidden behind Grandpa’s large body, I only now noticed the blacksmith. As always, he wore no shirt, pipe in hand.
“Go away. You’ll wear my child out. Let me know when the next prototype is done.”
“Yes, that’s what I was hoping.”
The blacksmith scratched his loosely tied green hair and turned away.
‘Hm? Why does he look oddly down today?’
I tilted my head, watching him seem quieter than usual.
“Go on, go.”
Once he disappeared, I asked Grandpa.
“Why does the blacksmith look so down today? Something feels different from before.”
“It’s Maddix. Just because there’s no work.”
“Really?”
“The war ended, so weapon orders dropped.”
“What? Then is he going bankrupt?”
“Puh-haha! Even if he did, wouldn’t that be fun! But no, that’s only talk from a lunatic obsessed with weapons.”
“I see.”
Grandpa didn’t look worried. He smelled faintly of iron—he must’ve been in the forge all morning.
“Once he finishes making swords for you and Void, there won’t be new orders for a while. That’s probably why he’s gloomier.”
“Oh, I get it.”
“Tsk, enough useless talk. Show me your hands.”
“…My hands?”
Still, it wasn’t hard, so I spread both hands wide and held them up in front of him.
“Here.”
“Ha, really! Unbelievable!”
Grandpa’s nose twitched left and right busily.
“Small and soft—how can any sword feel right in those?!”
Ah, so it was about the sword.
I imagined myself holding one. Heavy, sharp…
‘But I’d look so strong.’
Hehehe. Suddenly, I wanted one fast.
“Tch, at this rate I’ll have to redesign the handle from scratch…”
Grandpa muttered as I stared at him, lost in thought.
Then, in the distance, a knight came running at incredible speed, raising clouds of dust.
“Huh? It’s Senior Oberon!”
No horse in sight—just sprinting with his own two legs. Still, as fast as riding a horse.
“Oberon brat. Has he gone mad.”
Before his words finished, Grandpa timed it and stretched out his left leg.
Crash, thud! Oberon rolled noisily across the ground.
“Where are you going?”
“Ugh. Who the hell—?”
“Me.”
The beast smiled with the sun at his back. Looking up at that dark face, I thought again:
‘He’s really… awful.’
Wouldn’t calling him normally be fine?
“Ah, Your Grace! I failed to dodge your surprise attack. My training is still lacking! I’ve gained enlightenment!”
But Senior seemed used to it.
“Where are you running off to?”
“To His Grace the Duke! We have a new applicant wanting to join the Order!”
“…What?”
Grandpa’s beard twitched.
“A new talent in the North?”
His voice was full of excitement.
But hearing it, a chill ran down my spine.
‘No way… it can’t be.’
“G-Grandpa! I’m so curious who it is! Yay, someone finally below me! Yay!”
I exaggerated, and Grandpa, who loved training newcomers, swallowed the bait.
“Alright! Let’s go at once!”
He unhitched a horse from the carriage, mounted, pulled me into his arms, and rode off.
“Ahh, Ruby-an! Your Grace!”
No one could stop the mad dash of the Northern Duke.
The people of Zelrox calmly stepped aside, already used to it, moving stalls out of the way.
Thanks to that, a 30-minute trip took only 10, and we reached the Order’s building.
“Wow. Hooray for madness…”
As expected—no surprise twist.
“What’s this? Just a half-grown brat.”
The one boldly barging into the Jebert Order claiming he wanted to join was, of course—
‘Khalid Riork…’
My friend, the mage boy.
Grandpa prowled like a predator, observing Khalid.
“Hmm. Looks like someone who’s swung a sword before.”
A worn cloak, an old sword in hand, and a bag slung over one shoulder.
I peeked at it—inside was a crumpled map.
That’s when I realized he’d spent all night roaming Zelrox to learn the area.
‘I’m crazy. I never should’ve given him that map.’
Stop trying to prove your mercenary past.
“….”
“….”
Our eyes met after a short sigh.
Only then did I realize my situation—being held like a doll by the Northern Duke.
For Khalid, who’d only seen my independent, sharp side, this must’ve been hard to accept.
‘I know what you want to say.’
I glared a warning.
‘Zip it.’
Ziiip. Clean shut.
‘Go back. We’ll talk later!’
Shoo, shoo.
But instead, Khalid just smirked and turned his head, dark blue hair swaying lightly.
Was that… a laugh at me?
“Here’s my application.”
“You even brought an application? Surprisingly diligent.”
Grandpa took the parchment Khalid offered. Written in big letters across cream-colored parchment…
[Application Form]
Name: Khalid Riork
Age: 12
Experience: Many mercenary jobs
Reason for applying: To catch my childhood friend
“What… catch…?”
“Ah.”
Khalid crossed out the word “to catch.”
Reason for applying: To catch my childhood friend → To bring (them) along
“….”
Grandpa’s face showed disbelief.
Silence stretched. Khalid raised an eyebrow. Looking between the paper and those around him, he said “Aha,” and set it down again.
Without hesitation, he pulled out a dagger.
“What the—!”
He cut his thumb and pressed down a bloody handprint.
“No seal prepared.”
“What kind of extreme brat is this!”
The knights and Grandpa all looked aghast. Khalid just licked the blood calmly.
‘This crazy kid…’
His catlike eyes curved faintly. Two vertical marks beneath his left eye gave him a mischievous look.
His expression seemed to say:
‘This proves it, right?’
Of course not.
“What I wanted to ask is, what’s this ‘childhood friend’ you wrote! You insane brat!”
Grandpa pointed to the bottom of the form.
Khalid tilted his head, then stretched out his clean hand.
“That one.”
“What? Me?”
“No. The doll-like kid you’re holding like a toy.”
“….”
“I’m that kid’s childhood friend.”
The room stirred loudly.
“What! Our little brat’s friend?!”
“What brat?”
Grandpa slammed the table—crack! It split apart.
‘Oh no, finally…!’
My insides trembled, but Khalid only looked straight at me and grinned.
Then, still holding the form, he strode across the room.
“Judging by that face, you missed me a lot…”
He stopped at the door just opening with a creak.
“Will you allow it?”
“….”
“Duke Jebert.”
The man who just entered frowned as he saw the form stamped with Khalid’s bloody seal.
