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Translator: penny
Chapter: 292
Chapter Title: A Short Festival #1
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Before long, darkness had fallen over the sky.
A pitch-black night.
Just as people gather around lanterns or hearths when night comes, the villagers of Dragon Scale Village flocked toward the large bonfire in the center of the village.
The noisy, boisterous sound of applause.
Songs in unfamiliar local dialects, the first the narrator had ever heard, mingled chaotically with the seasoned melodies of a bard.
Over the smoke rising from the bonfires scattered here and there, unidentified meats and vegetables sizzled as they roasted.
The village's young women and men paired up awkwardly and innocently, dancing around the bonfire.
Children chattered noisily in a group, while the eyes of the elderly men sitting at a comfortable distance from the fire held a deep, relieved weariness.
Overall, it was an incredibly chaotic and rowdy scene. That's just how festivals and banquets were on this Gaia continent—utterly disorderly, to the point where it scrambled the mind.
But that's what a festival was supposed to be.
Noisy and boisterous was enough.
"Ah—! Lady Luna, where on earth did you get that meat?! Tell me too...!"
"Over there, at that bonfire! There's only one left! Hurry up!"
"I can't do that to the village hero, Paranoy...!!"
Like the elders, I sat at a suitable spot by the fire, keeping a step's distance from it all, maintaining some space from the surroundings.
A festival was like a raging torrent or a blazing flame—once swept up in it, you got tossed around senselessly.
I preferred watching the whirlpool in a teacup over dipping my finger into it.
So, from a spot that wasn't too far nor too close, I sipped one or two cups of the strangely warm liquor.
Everyone else was gathered in groups of three or five, making merry noisily, but around me, there was no one, just a chill in the air. Until just a moment ago, Elfride had been sitting next to me, hadn't she?
I thought she'd stepped away briefly, but she hadn't returned. She was probably enjoying the festival on her own somewhere.
They were calling her something like the pointed-eared prophet who revived the bonfire's flames, treating her well. Thanks to that, I was left alone, immersed in the quiet.
Of course, I rather liked this silence amid the noisy chaos. Just as I was enjoying my fashionable solitude appropriately, someone suddenly pressed something cold against my face.
"Ugh, cold—!"
When I checked, it was a wooden cup filled with ice. Sneaking up without a sound and shoving an ice cup in my face. If it had been a poisoned dagger instead of ice, I'd be dead.
Even during a festival, I was on edge, not knowing what might happen, and the few people who could slip past my vigilant guard were limited.
"Lady Hippolyte?"
"That's right. Everyone else is running around making noise, so what are you doing alone in a place like this?"
"I just like sitting like this."
"With you hogging the bonfire like that, everyone's too scared to come near you—."
Sssssl.
I'd wondered why no one approached me; turns out, I was the scary one. And honestly, even I thought my appearance was pretty intimidating.
A hulking barbarian with a bizarre club strapped to my back—who would dare approach without considerable courage?
"Thanks to that, I've got myself a quiet refuge."
Of course, Hippolyte was one with that kind of courage. The sort who could approach a massive dragon without hesitation and ask for a story—she had to be the bravest person I knew.
The young men circling around her, though, looked a bit disappointed.
Ah, I wanted to chat with a Gold Tier adventurer.
Her companion's there. Don't know who he is, but he looks vicious.
Look at that build. I thought he was a troll.
Whether it was my large shadow flickering in the bonfire light that turned their feet away, they gradually put distance between us and vanished somewhere.
I said,
"You sure are popular."
"Popularity that spans men, women, young, and old is the fate of a hero. Curiosity and interest feed the golden necklace, making it stronger."
"I see."
I gave a suitable reply. Hippolyte's presence was tremendous indeed; I could see various people glancing our way.
Being side-by-side with someone this popular felt strangely novel and gave me an odd sense of superiority, which put me in a pretty good mood.
No, was I having these thoughts because the alcohol had gone to my head?
I stared down at the ice cup Hippolyte had handed me, lost in brief contemplation. Maybe I should stop drinking now.
At that moment, Hippolyte spoke up.
"I never thought we'd stay in this village another day."
"Tomorrow, they're lighting a beacon to summon a dragon, right? It cuts more than half our journey."
"Yes, quite fortunate."
We'd decided to stay one more day in the village at the urging of the village chief and the villagers.
The bonfire blessed by Goddess Vesta, relieved of their worries about it, they had invited us to the feast.
Our road was long, so I hesitated to join, but the chief said he'd stoke the bonfire grandly to summon one of Vesta's dragons.
In other words, our ride was upgrading from a bus to an airplane—no reason to refuse.
That's why Luna, Paranoy, and the others were enjoying themselves without a care.
"Hassan, you look like you're deep in thought. What are you pondering so intently?"
When I turned my head, Hippolyte's intense brown eyes were gazing at me from the side.
I'd met Hippolyte several times and shared many experiences, but I still wasn't used to that straightforward gaze, so I subtly averted my eyes.
Honestly, she tried not to look at me that way much anymore, but Hippolyte was one of the most beautiful women I knew, which made me quite tense.
As I awkwardly tried to think of a way to change the subject, feeling strangely embarrassed for some reason, Hippolyte said,
"You're on guard against something, aren't you? That's why you stand out sharp as a drawn sword amid everyone's relaxation at the festival. No wonder people aren't approaching."
"Is that so."
She was pretty much spot on. I was wary of all sorts of things. For everyone to enjoy themselves, there had to be people like me, on watch for sudden threats and ready to respond.
Srring—. Click.
At that moment, the sound of a sword being drawn from Hippolyte's hand rang out.
In her grip was a long, hefty greatsword, fit to be called a two-handed sword. Roughly 1 to 1.5 meters long?
Its plain, unadorned form was rough, but for some reason, the blade gleamed with a black sheen, giving it a menacing air.
It was the spine pulled from a dragon's neck, now in Hippolyte's hands, but its original owner was a Death Knight named Envy.
Envy, huh. What kind of name was that?
Mezayer of Greed.
Molleg of Sloth—.
And Envy—.
Recalling those hell lords with their emotional epithets, it was clear the sword's master was a giant from hell, threatening our daily lives. Just my speculation, but the circumstantial evidence overflowed.
In kingdoms I hadn't seen or heard of, they seemed to be struggling to climb to the surface.
It felt like something wasn't going quite right for them, which was a relief—and as I felt a slight sense of relief, Hippolyte spoke.
"Are you wary of this sword's master?"
Her instincts were sharp, as expected.
"A little."
"Well, it's intimidating enough. I haven't appraised it properly, but it's on the level of an epic relic in itself. I tested it earlier by chopping a tree, and it split like paper."
Hippolyte's eyes, fixed on the pitch-black blade, gleamed fiercely, perhaps due to the bonfire light. It sent a slight chill down my spine.
"It's worthy of being called a demonic sword. A Death Knight wielding something like this—definitely no ordinary foe. The work of Pluto cultists?"
"No, I don't think so."
"I see. You seem to know something. Though you don't look inclined to share—."
Srring—. Clack.
Hippolyte smoothly sheathed the sword back in its scabbard. A hasty one made in Dragon Scale Village's forge, but it fit the size well enough.
With the ominous blade hidden, a bit of relief washed over me.
We couldn't just discard something like that anywhere, so entrusting it to the sturdiest Hippolyte seemed like a great decision in hindsight.
A Death Knight's demonic sword—no one else in our party could handle it but her.
Luna had sprinkled salt on it, calling it an exorcism ritual, but it still felt faintly unsettling.
I said,
"If you feel anything strange while handling that sword, be sure to tell me."
"What, are you worrying about me now, Hassan?"
But at my words, Hippolyte's brow furrowed sharply. Had I flipped some switch I shouldn't have?
"...Yeah."
As I replied in a slightly subdued voice, she answered in a firm tone.
"Who do you think I am? I've swung swords plenty, but I've never been swung by one. I'm Hippolyte, daughter of Mars."
"But didn't you yourself say that everyone has times when they're struggling and shaken, Lady Hippolyte?"
"Did I say that?"
"That time, uh, when you came to the inn where I was staying—."
"Ah—. I remember. Yeah, I did say that. Everyone has times when they're shaken. You remember that conversation? That's pretty amusing. It's been a while since someone's worried about me."
"Really?"
"I'm stronger than anyone I know, so I'm usually the one doing the worrying. I'm taller than most men too. So I've always been the one looking down."
Indeed, Hippolyte's height was nearly as tall as mine.
Shorter than me, of course, but among this world's women—and even including men—it was considerably tall.
Her long, extended arms and legs, small head, all combined to make her look like a healthy track athlete. The claim of divine blood wasn't a lie. No other way to achieve such perfect proportions.
To think I'd touched and defiled such a body at will. Incredibly irreverent and horrific sin, wasn't it? Deserved punishment, no doubt.
Recalling that made things stir down below, so I hurriedly shifted my thoughts. Honey nymph, ditch-water nymph—. Ah, better.
But as I calmed my mind that way, Hippolyte spoke in a voice smaller than usual, uncharacteristic for her.
"Now that I think about it, this is the first time a man—not one of my sisters—has worried about me. It's a strange feeling. And more than strange, not bad. Worry about me, Hassan."
"Wh-what—."
My existing worries evaporated, and for some reason, a chuckle escaped me. Seeing that, Hippolyte smiled faintly too.
"Now you look like someone enjoying the festival."
At her words, I touched my mouth. I'd been trying to look a bit serious for once, but it ended in failure. My fashionable solitude lasted less than half a day.
"Then let's roast something over this bonfire here. I'll cook for you."
"You know how to cook too, Lady Hippolyte?"
"Not as well as Antiope—. But I'm decent enough. I've lived alone since I was young. Cooking's cheaper than buying."
And so, Hippolyte gathered bowls and a frying pan from nearby, loaded them with ingredients, and grilled and stir-fried over the bonfire.
"It might not be perfectly seasoned, but give it a try."
In the blink of an eye, stir-fried veggies were plated, and the taste was so exquisitely good it surprised me.
Luna can't cook. I know because I've eaten it.
Elfride can't cook either. I know because I've eaten it.
But Hippolyte, who seemed least likely to, was good at it.
Quite the twist, huh? Come to think of it, her house was always neatly kept. Hippolyte was good at housework.
"It's delicious. You could run an inn."
"When I was still a young girl, I worked as a waitress at one."
"Really?"
"And more. I worked at a flower shop, as an alchemist's assistant, even as a maid for a rich lady in some city."
She seemed lost in reminiscence for a moment, as if saying she'd really been around, doing all sorts of jobs.
I hadn't realized it, but Hippolyte's life experience was incredibly broad. Could someone around my age have done all that?
Now that I thought about it, she'd said she took up the sword rather late and then shone.
I'd just gone to school at that age. If I'd jumped into this barbaric world's workforce from school age, it wouldn't seem so strange.
Anyway, it gave a sense of her tough vitality and resourcefulness. As she'd once said, women with strong resourcefulness are attractive.
They'd make great wives and mothers. I think all men like resourceful women.
In my mind, I upgraded Hippolyte's resourcefulness score from four to five stars. If not for our fling, she'd have made someone an excellent wife.
Suddenly, I grew curious.
What about me had appealed to this perfect superhuman, Hippolyte?
Buoyed by the alcohol and sentimental from the crackling bonfire, I quietly asked.
"Lady Hippolyte, what was it about me that you liked—?"