Chapter 11
Gert.
A man once known as Gert the Iron Wall.
Now he eked out a living as a low-ranking mercenary.
All he could do was stand at attention, his back straight.
And that was because...
"No, listen."
Pink hair brushed past him.
A scent that was equal parts sweet and acrid stung his nose.
She’s been out hunting again.
Even as Gert thought this, the woman chattered away in front of him, her face flushed with excitement.
"I got rejected, you know. The Crown Princess? And what was it? Oh! She told me to get lost!”
“I-I see.”
“Exactly! Isn’t that fascinating?”
His eyes met the woman’s as she looked at him, her own eyes shining.
Her eyes were like flowers in full bloom as she gazed at him.
Aila Seed.
The current deputy guildmaster of the Mercenary Guild—and, in practice, no different from its guildmaster.
Rumor had it that this was because her parents, the guildmasters, weren’t in their right minds right now—
“Aiden Starfive!”
She cut off Gert’s train of thought and beamed from ear to ear.
"So I looked into it!"
"Ah, yes. Yes."
Gert snapped back to attention.
Aila wasn’t a bad person. If anything, she was a good one.
She trusted people easily and treated everyone kindly. Well, there were exceptions.
And that wasn’t all. She was highly skilled, too.
There were even rumors that she’d caught a bear with her bare hands at the age of ten.
Thanks to that, she was quite popular in the Mercenary Guild.
The problem was, she was just so...
“And then, oh my! I found out Mr. Gert had escorted him once!”
She was far too curious. And she didn’t know when to hold her tongue.
Cold sweat trickled down Gert’s back.
If his daughter were still alive, she’d be about that age.
As a man who had once been a father, and as a mercenary, he decided to offer her a word of advice.
“D-Deputy Guildmaster.”
“Yes?”
“He’s dangerous.”
Hoping his plea would get through to her, he began explaining Aiden Starfive’s dangers in a trembling voice.
“His appearance is demonic, and the aura he gives off is that of a murderer, Deputy Guildmaster.”
“Aha.”
“His red eyes are devoid of emotion, and he says rude things or looks down on others, but no one can say anything back.”
“I see!”
Gert extolled the danger Aiden posed until his mouth went dry.
After telling her everything, from his swordsmanship to his appearance, he looked at Aila.
Had she understood what he was saying?
Gert cautiously lifted his gaze to gauge her reaction.
“...”
Seeing Aila’s sparkling eyes, Gert squeezed his own shut.
I’m doomed.
*
“...”
Headmaster Gildar quietly stared at the report in front of him.
A catastrophe.
There was no other way to describe it.
A traitor had appeared within the academy—and not just any traitor, but one who had taken over an entire school building.
It wouldn’t have been surprising if countless people had died.
That was what should have happened.
“...Aiden Starfive.”
This student again.
A student who had stood out ever since the first practical exercise.
Even then, Gildar had thought he was an extraordinary person.
“...”
He had rescued the trapped students, then taken down the traitor with the candidate for sainthood and the princess of a fallen kingdom at his side.
Not a single casualty. The result could only be called a miracle.
Even with a team of seasoned professionals, it would have been difficult to achieve this much.
He stared silently at the paper, then closed his eyes.
What if someone had died here?
The thought alone was horrifying.
The academy would have lost the people’s trust on the spot.
The higher-ups would have subjected them to even more scrutiny.
But what frightened him more than that was...
“...We’d have been finished.”
Genua Academy was currently the only place that gathered and trained those who bore Stigmas.
Whatever the academy’s purpose, bringing Stigma-bearers together in one place so they could get to know one another and learn to cooperate was the academy’s—and, by extension, the continent’s—path to survival.
If a traitor had emerged in such a place, killing students—or, in the worst case, turning them into traitors as well?
Genua Academy would undoubtedly have suffered such severe damage that, even if it didn’t collapse, it would have had to consider shutting down.
“Did he say he needed anything?”
“Uh, well...”
Albert, who had been quiet until then, darted his eyes around at Gildar’s question.
“No, I didn’t hear anything in particular.”
“...”
Normally, someone in this position would have asked for something.
“Oh, one thing. He did ask for one thing.”
“What?”
From what Gildar had heard, Aiden Starfive was incredibly arrogant.
His behavior was like that of a tyrant. Everyone who’d spoken with him said he was terrifying or impossible to reason with.
Perhaps he would make an outrageous demand.
If so, how should Gildar respond as headmaster?
Should he tell him no? Or else...
As Gildar pondered what he could offer, Albert spoke up.
“...He, um, says he wants the black stone left behind after they captured the traitor.”
“...That’s what he asked for?”
“...Yes.”
At Albert’s words, Gildar’s expression grew grave.
"...Did you try telling him no?"
"He said he was going to sell it."
"To whom?"
"...The shop."
Gildar squeezed his eyes shut.
The shop.
“...He may know more than I thought.”
“...I’ve never heard that House Starfive has ever been involved in politics or the imperial court, not even once.”
“All the more reason to be careful. If even we don’t know...”
“...Then he’s really operating behind the scenes, concealing himself from everyone?”
A certain organization came to both Albert and Gildar’s minds.
The imperial family’s own surveillance unit.
They had originally been spies tasked with keeping other countries in check and waging information warfare, but now they roamed the continent to apprehend internal threats.
At Albert’s question, Gildar nodded.
“Give it to him for now. The fact that he asked for that stone means he knows a great deal about things kept hidden.”
“...Understood. But that means I’ll inevitably have to meet that person...”
“That, too, must be something he’s anticipated.”
Gildar spoke calmly.
“To meet the shopkeeper and present the stone means he’s willing to pay the price.”
“...That’s true.”
The shopkeeper.
The two of them shuddered as they pictured her.
“Surely he didn’t take the stone just to trade it for some goods.”
“...”
“We need to be careful.”
Gildar murmured.
Aiden Starfive.
“Conceal his identity as much as possible. That’s the only consideration we can offer him.”
“Y-Yes, understood.”
Albert hurriedly nodded and left the room.
“...”
After the door creaked shut, Gildar, too, slumped into his chair.
He couldn’t help thinking he shouldn’t have accepted the headmaster position in the first place.
“Why did I go and decide to make myself suffer in my old age... I should’ve just retired...”
His sigh echoed through the headmaster’s office.
I looked at the stone in my hand.
What should I trade this in for to make people say I got a good deal?
Of course, there weren’t many things I could get for a single stone.
At best, a high-grade potion. And the first-time shop-opening bonus.
Of course, my body had fully recovered now that the incident was over.
Cursed Swordsmanship wasn’t bad at all, as long as I didn’t use it repeatedly.
But that wasn’t the important thing.
What mattered was getting acquainted with the shopkeeper.
The shopkeeper everyone in the <Dark Fantasy Saga> strategy community adored.
In a world where everything was going mad, she was someone who remained friendly to the protagonist until the very end.
Even when a run went to hell and every character died, the shopkeeper was the one person who stuck around to sell you things.
Well, shopkeepers don’t usually disappear just because the world ends, not in any game.
And she was pretty, too. I liked her a lot.
“Kheuheu...”
I couldn’t stop laughing.
The student walking beside me turned pale at the sound of my laughter, but I was used to this sort of reaction.
If this was going to happen, shouldn’t my Awe at least go up?
If they were going to be terrified just because I laughed, they could at least give me a reward for it.
No. Now wasn’t the time to think about that.
More importantly, the shop.
I looked at the shop in front of me.
It was finally time to enjoy some shopping.
-Creeeak...
I opened the shop door and turned my gaze forward, smiling brightly.
That’s right. I’m here.
I’ve come to see you again, shopkeeper!
The shopkeeper stood before me.
Navy-blue hair fell to her shoulders, framing a youthful face.
But the aura she gave off was far too mature for a child, and at times, she could be sharp.
That’s right. I knew this woman very well.
The shopkeeper.
I didn’t know her name, age, or occupation, but every player of <Dark Fantasy Saga> loved her.
I was so happy to see her that I almost threw my arms around her.
"...Who are you."
If not for the dagger pointed right at me.
"..."
I lowered my gaze and looked down.
The shopkeeper was staring at me, her face tense.
This was strange. The shopkeeper I knew was always smiling and would sell you items no matter what happened.
Could it be because of my Stigma?
First, I’d spread my arms to show I meant her no harm.
I approached her with my arms spread wide.
I don’t know what you’ve misunderstood, but could you put the knife down for now?
“Do you think you can kill me with that damn toothpick? Don’t do anything pointless.”
“...Don’t come any closer!”
This is driving me insane. Seriously.