“Rein, wake up.”
“Five minutes… just five more…”
“It’s morning.”
“Ugh, the Hero was in my dream…”
“Sorry to interrupt, but it’s time to get up.”
Xion lifted Rein upright and patted his back.
Ugh, a nightmare.
The first one since coming here, and the Hero was chasing him.
Worst dream ever.
Rein drank the milk Xion handed him, shuffled to his feet, and sat at the table.
“Wash your face first.”
“Oh, come on.”
Imagine, a Demon King forced into such a healthy, regimented life. How humiliating.
Still grumbling, Rein washed thoroughly with lavender-scented soap.
Xion dried him with a fluffy alpaca-wool towel that had been boiled soft in hot water, and Rein sat again, face clean.
Fresh fruit and salad, thin-sliced ham with wheat bread and cheese, and a pumpkin soup made only with pumpkin and milk awaited him.
“Delicious!”
Breakfast was, as always, perfect.
While Xion readied himself for the fields, Rein prepared the lunch basket.
Since nearly burning the house down roasting duck the other day, he was barred from open flames and he didn’t really mind.
“All set!”
He slathered butter and jam on bread, poured milk into a glass bottle, tied a cloth over the top, and packed it with fruit.
“That won’t give you enough energy to work.”
After a moment’s thought he added the leftover ham from breakfast.
Bang, bang, bang!
“Xion!”
No sooner had he finished than someone arrived. It was Rebecca.
What does she want?
Rein darted behind the bedroom door to spy as Xion opened the front door.
“Hello, Miss Rebecca.”
“Hi, Xion. You’re dazzling today. You look happier and happier. Is something good going on?”
“Of course.”
She always exaggerated.
Even when Rein nearly set the house ablaze or broke Xion’s favorite tool, the man smiled exactly the same. Clearly Xion lacked emotions other than happiness.
“They say you’ve taken in three times the usual groceries this month. Got a guest staying over?”
Rebecca tried to peer inside. Rein yanked his head back just in time; Xion blocked the view.
“So what brings you here?”
“Uh well, we’re butchering a pig today. Want to have supper with us?”
“I’m fine, thank you. I need to turn in early for work tomorrow.”
“Eat early, then!”
“Rich food burdens the stomach and disturbs sleep. Thank you for inviting me. Please get home safely.”
“Wait, Xion. Today our village—”
Bang!
“—the Hero came to our village… Honestly! He never lets me finish.”
She muttered in front of the closed door.
“Has he got a lover in there?”
Rumor said Xion was often seen with an unfamiliar outsider wearing a brimmed straw hat; only the jawline showed, yet old Paul swore the stranger was stunning. Most likely not the cousin-of-a-friend story Melissa’s daughter’s friend spread.
In any case, odds that this outsider was Xion’s fiancée were about the same as beans sprouting where beans are planted.
“I wanted to see her face.”
Foiled again by Xion’s stone-walling.
“Fine. I’ll try again tomorrow!”
But tonight, a more important guest was coming: the Hero’s party, to meet Rebecca and her father. They were roasting a whole pig for them. Inviting Xion had been partly to show off their village pride and maybe to meet his mysterious companion.
“There’ll be other chances to introduce them.”
The Hero planned to stay in Root for several days. Surely, he’d cross paths with Xion at least once.
“Let’s just hope he doesn’t see how amazing Xion is and drag him off as a party member~”
Thinking how that would upend the village, Rebecca headed home.
❖ ❖ ❖
“Pork sounds great,” Rein said the moment Xion shut the door.
“Let’s make some.”
Dinner was decided.
❖ ❖ ❖
“Jake, why are we staying several days in this cramped village? You made that call on your own!”
Elijah, a member of the Hero’s party, grumbled as they walked.
Hero Jake West answered quietly.
“There’s a Hero’s Sword here.”
“What?”
Lowering his voice too, Elijah asked, “How do you know?”
“Any Hero can feel it. Somewhere very close, the sword is calling me.”
Elijah thought Jake’s aristocratic tone was cringeworthy, but he kept that to himself; Jake was a duke’s son, after all.
“Fine. Let’s grab the sword, gather the rest of the party, and finish off the Demon King. Where is he again?”
“We can find him only after the party’s complete.”
“Such a hassle. Want me to guess?”
“I won’t stop you.”
“He’s obviously holed up in the Demon King’s castle.”
“Heh.”
Jake shook his head lightly; Elijah resisted an urge to smack him.
“The Demon King is sly. He might lay traps in the castle and hide elsewhere. Safer to gather the party and follow God’s guidance.”
“Yeah, yeah. Then let’s fill the party fast.”
“A Hero’s companions aren’t chosen so easily. Since childhood I’ve trained for this, and among my lessons on party members…”
“How about that person?”
“A companion isn’t just anyone off the street. A Hero’s ally must—”
Jake turned toward Elijah’s pointing finger and fell silent.
A young man walked alone down the road: sturdy, tireless, the sort who seemed to grasp justice.
Perfect for a Hero’s party!
Born in this rural backwater, he probably knew no weapons or combat, but Jake didn’t need another fighter; he believed he alone could defeat the Demon King. Lesser demons? Hire mercenaries like Elijah.
For the last slot he wanted someone perfect—a retainer to handle luggage and horses, cooking and chores: in short, a strong, durable, uncomplaining servant.
This man fit every criterion. A farmer from nowhere would see joining the Hero’s party as an honor and wouldn’t complain no matter the task.
Perfect. A chance Jake could not miss.
Forgetting his noble dignity, he dashed toward Xion who was hauling a mountain of produce to exchange for pork at the butcher’s.
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