PRB | Chapter 7

The parade had ended, but the festival was just beginning.

The square was messy with flowers and paper scattered around, but no one complained.

People wandered around with eyes wide open, looking for any silver coins they might have missed on the ground, and they clinked glasses joyfully in inns and pubs until late at night.

They ordered expensive snacks without hesitation. It was partly because they were in high spirits, but also because so many silver coins had been tossed around during the day, making them more generous.

The city was as lively as when the news of the Demon King’s defeat first spread.

Thanks to this, Eddie’s Inn was also packed with tourists eager to enjoy the festival.

This meant that more people were trying the Fire Chicken Noodles.

At first, the unfamiliar menu didn’t attract many orders. But then, a few brave diners asked, “Noodles? Is it a noodle dish? I’ll have one!” and that started it all.

“Ahh!”

“My lips are on fire!”

“Poison! It’s poison, for sure!”

“Milk!”

The intense reactions that followed eating it sparked curiosity, and soon everyone wanted to try it, making the Fire Chicken Noodles sell like hotcakes. Milk was also sold alongside it as a set.

For the first time since opening, Eddie’s Inn had a line of people crossing their legs in front of the restroom. Eddie, watching people eventually head to other buildings for restrooms, smiled contentedly.

“Good, good.”

It was a devilishly developed smile.

Business is all about timing. Having succeeded in capturing interest with a bold flavor, Eddie thought it was time to introduce something else, and he looked at the packed pub on the first floor with satisfaction.

Before the crowd arrived, Eddie had prepared a room for Ketron on the inn’s second floor.

It was next to Eddie’s room.

And that was an honor(?) even Gerald hadn’t received, so Gerald spoke with genuine bewilderment.

“Why are you doing so much for that vagabond, Eddie?”

His face looked like someone who had just seen a rolling stone dislodge a settled one. Technically, Gerald wasn’t a settled stone nor dislodged, but it was similar.

Eddie couldn’t explain in detail. How could he say that this was a world inside a novel, and that the guy Gerald called a vagabond was actually the protagonist and the real betrayed hero?

“He’s just a kid, and it’s pitiful.”

In truth, there wasn’t much of an age difference, but Eddie made that flimsy excuse. To Eddie’s eyes, Ketron did seem like a very young kid.

He died at twenty-eight. To someone like him, a twenty-year-old was just a baby. A soft, fluffy baby.

How could he not feel pity for a kid who had gone through so much and was wounded right in front of him?

Moreover, there were few left who remembered the harsh things he had gone through.

“He’s injured too. I’ll take care of him until he heals.”

“….”

Gerald looked complicated but said nothing more. He just sighed deeply, poking at Eddie’s faint conscience. It was like looking at a sibling who had recklessly picked up a stray dog.

“Will those wounds even heal? He refuses treatment.”

“Well.”

Eddie had failed to tend to Ketron’s wounds. Not because he was clumsy, but because Ketron didn’t allow Eddie to look at his wounds.

Despite claiming they were medicines from the East, Ketron, like a shy cat, refused the touch of a stranger.

But that wasn’t surprising, so Eddie didn’t mind. If someone betrayed by their most trusted comrades wasn’t wary of strangers, that would be odd.

Eddie was just satisfied that Ketron hadn’t turned dark and had settled in his inn.

Though the aftermath of Ketron turning dark wasn’t described anywhere, considering the ominous descriptions and Ketron’s character, which was depicted as quite ruthless despite being righteous, it probably wouldn’t have been a bright future.

It felt like he had prevented the world’s end. Thinking that, Eddie winked at Gerald.

“I’ll handle it. I’ll make sure he eats too.”

It was a bit embarrassing, like promising to take care of a stray dog in front of parents, but Gerald eventually stepped back with a deep sigh at Eddie’s promise.

“Hmm.”

Eddie stood in front of Ketron’s room, looking down at the ignored items.

The soup and banana milk Eddie had brought for Ketron hadn’t caught his interest.

Since entering the room on the second floor, Ketron hadn’t stepped out.

Eddie had left the ignored medicines, food, and banana milk at the door, but Ketron hadn’t opened the door.

As if declaring a break from the world.

Sometimes, leaving someone alone is the right answer.

But Ketron had probably spent enough time alone over the past month.

Now was the time when he needed someone’s touch. Eddie decided.

Eddie grabbed a cold banana milk and a straw from the fridge at the entrance and headed to Ketron’s room.

After briefly contemplating the cold soup, lukewarm banana milk, and medicines in front of Ketron’s room, Eddie picked up the ignored items and knocked on the door.

𐙚 𐙚 𐙚

Ketron sat quietly beside the bed. He had propped up the holy sword Albatross, wrapped haphazardly in thick cloth, next to him.

“Are you just going to sit here?”

The holy sword, Albatross, whispered in an angry voice. It was a voice only Ketron, the sword’s master, could hear.

“Even a puppet with its strings cut has more strength and spirit than you. Where’s the Ketron I knew?”

“….”

“Just destroy the world. If you decide to, I’ll gladly lend you my power.”

The holy sword, Albatross.

Typically, a holy sword would be thought of as a sacred weapon that only realizes justice and guides the hero’s faith, but not Albatross.

It had more emotions than a human, was proud, and arrogant.

This sword, which couldn’t be lifted by anyone it didn’t acknowledge, was angrier about Ketron’s situation than Ketron himself.

“I can’t believe that fool who always wanted to have me finally took your place.”

Even at the holy sword’s voice criticizing Arthur, Ketron showed no reaction. He had nothing to say. As Albatross put it, he was more lifeless than a puppet with its strings cut.

What should I do? What am I?

There were no answers. If Albatross hadn’t remembered him and spoken to him, he might have gone mad before even reaching the Empire.

Just when he thought he had reached the top, he fell to the bottom. And there was nowhere left to climb.

Left alone in an empty space, there were no choices.

He just existed. As nothing.

As someone no one remembered.

…No, he would remember.

Arthur. And Boram, who cast the spell.

Revenge? What would change if he took revenge? What would be left after venting this resentment? Even if he claimed to be a hero, would anyone believe him when the whole world had forgotten him?

Having been Arthur’s comrade, Ketron knew Arthur well. A person more skilled in improvisation than physical combat. His old comrade, whose quick thinking was sharp.

You’re probably preparing and planning a lot. To solidify your position as the hero. In case the hero you abandoned comes after you with burning revenge.

You know me well, having spent so much time together.

“….”

Ketron didn’t respond, closing his weary eyes.

He had settled in this inn because he disliked noise and preferred not to be noticed, but he had no intention of putting down roots.

He was just staying because he hadn’t figured out where to go or what to do.

“Sigh.”

Albatross sighed deeply and fell silent. Albatross was a spirit dwelling in the sword. Having seen many humans over a long time, it understood human existence but couldn’t fully comprehend them.

No matter how holy a sword, it couldn’t understand the complex thoughts in Ketron’s mind, which was more tangled than anyone else’s at this moment.

With silence all around, Ketron closed his eyes.

Silence was good. He preferred it to noise. Though he had spent noisy times with many people, this silence was what Ketron truly desired.

Ketron sank back into the depths of the ocean. To that terribly dark and cold place.

Knock, knock.

But before he could fully dive into those deep waters, the silence was broken.

“Hey, can I come in?”

The voice asked, but the person didn’t wait for Ketron’s answer. It was as if they knew Ketron wouldn’t respond. And indeed, he had no intention of responding, so there was no real grievance.

The door opened, and the innkeeper appeared.

The bright silver hair caught his eye first, and the handsome face that matched the brightness winked at Ketron as soon as he saw him.

“What, you’re not crying and doing well?”

At those words, Ketron couldn’t help but make a bewildered expression.

…Who was he calling a crybaby?