HPV 23

Banwes may have won the argument with a clean and satisfying victory, but the only reward awaiting him was the unfortunate reality of having to carry Riarun on his back.

At the front of the group, Yurichen walked while checking the map and compass. It wasn’t because Yurichen was a particularly good guide, but thanks to Penzey, a well-known veteran of the vagrant life, they always managed to stay on the right path.

Riarun, swaying gently on Banwes’ back, noticed a leaf had fallen onto Banwes’ head and casually brushed it off.

“Do I look like a dog to you?”

It was almost funny how he never missed an opportunity to be sarcastic. Riarun shrugged—then remembered Banwes couldn’t see him and gave up.

“You don’t realize growling at every little thing makes you look more like a dog?”

“……”

Banwes couldn’t see the smug little smile creeping up Riarun lips. After riding a little longer, Riarun reached forward and lightly grabbed Banwes’ arm.

“I’ll walk now.”

He must not have been born particularly frail. Eating three full meals a day and pushing through the soreness to walk a little more every day—bit by bit, his body was growing used to it.

Right now, his legs were badly swollen and sore enough that he couldn’t go far, but once he got used to it, his stamina would surely improve. A new sense of hope swelled in his chest.

As they walked the mountain path until sundown, a new village came into view, its houses clustered close together.

“It’s kind of noisy.”

Despite the late hour, a massive bonfire blazed in the center of the village.

“Hopefully that fire isn’t for a public execution.”

“Why assume the worst? Are you afraid they might tie you up there?”

“Then would it be Yurichen who binds me? And Ria would weep mournfully as the flames rose? What a noble death that would be.”

But to Riarun’s eyes, there was nothing ominous about the bonfire. Heads moved around it in a flurry of activity—lively, disorganized, but unmistakably cheerful.

As they descended into the village, it became clear.

“Looks like a festival.”

He grabbed a passing child and asked. Apparently, there had been a wedding in the village today. The bride and groom had already left for their new home, and the remaining guests were still reveling, eating and drinking to their heart’s content.

It wasn’t as extravagant as a city celebration, but the decorations—full of flowers and bright-colored fabrics—were vivid and rich, catching the eye. Riarun busied himself taking in the smells and sights.

Strangely enough, Yurichen didn’t pressure him to go find an inn immediately. He even paused and stood by his side. Penzey glanced at him, then asked:

“Did you break or something?”

“Is there an inn open?” Yurichen asked instead.

“No way old man Homan’s place is running tonight. I saw him earlier—drunk off his rocker and sprawled out in the field like a heap of rags.”

Paronai raised an eyebrow at the unfortunate news. As he hesitated, a villager spoke again.

“If you really need a place to rest, there’s a vacant house. Bit humble, but it’s clean, and since the owners are gone, we won’t charge you anything.”

Paronai turned to the group. No one objected.

Even if it was an empty house, if it was decent enough to offer to guests, it would be clean. They all knew that once they climbed further north near the Black Dragon’s Nest, they wouldn’t even see a village—much less enjoy such luxuries. This journey, after all, was a true expedition: at best they would camp, at worst they would sleep out in the open.

Everyone understood that well, so the decision was made quickly.

Yurichen, however, wouldn’t be comfortable accepting something for free from commoners. No doubt, later, he would quietly slip a few silver coins to the bride or groom’s family before leaving.

“All the restaurants are closed today. But there’s a big celebration in the square. Travelers like yourselves are welcome to join in too. Ah, but beware—if you fall into one of these three categories, you might get kicked out! Anyone who doesn’t feel happy for the bride and groom, anyone who’s already full, and anyone who’s not drinking! Hahaha!”

The villager’s face was flushed—he had clearly been drinking. Penzey gave Yurichen a sly wink.

“You’re getting kicked out for sure.”

Of course, there was no way the villagers could know Yurichen was a priest. Not while he deliberately suppressed his holy power.

Around the bonfire, smoke rising to the sky, people danced and sang in a loud, joyful crowd. The group found a quiet corner where they could sit by themselves.

Riarun looked around.

It was the first time he had ever seen so many people gathered together, not mocking, scorning, or sneering at him—but radiating nothing but joy and warmth.

His head spun. The feeling was… overwhelmingly strange.

Before he could collapse, he managed to find a stiff wooden chair and sat down.

‘If I hadn’t taken the risk and joined the hero’s party, I’d have never known something like this existed.’

Songs celebrating the bride and groom rang out at full volume. The strange thing was—the bride and groom weren’t even there anymore.

“Marriage, huh… That’s something farthest from any of us.”

Judging by his tone, Penzey seemed resolved to live a single life. It suited him—he didn’t seem the type to ever settle down and tie himself to just one person. Yurichen, too, was fated to remain single. High priests of Gaioh were forbidden from love or marriage.

“Ria, didn’t you say you’d enter the Gaioh Temple once the journey’s over? Then you don’t plan on marrying at all?”

Indeed, the future where they failed to slay the Black Dragon and perished wasn’t even considered. Paronai still hadn’t left the capital’s outskirts, yet he already spoke of the future as if it were assured.

When Penzey heard that Riarun planned to enter the temple, his eyes narrowed and twisted with mischief.

“Seems the god of Gaioh doesn’t care about the happiness of his chosen ones.”

“Explain that remark properly.”

“Snatching away two beauties and not letting go? That’s criminal.”

“Is that a mouth or a snout? Does it serve no other purpose than drinking and spewing nonsense?”

Riarun shook his head as their useless squabble went on.

“No? I do want to get married. Just… later on.”

At that, Yurichen’s veil jerked upward, its edge fluttering in the air. Did he really have to crane his neck so dramatically just to glare at him?

“You said you’d enter the temple.”

“I heard lower-ranked priests are allowed to marry. There are even those who marry and willingly give up their advancement.”

Only then did Yurichen seem to relax. He straightened his posture and quietly sat back down.

Now that he thought about it, that remark must have shocked Yurichen. After all, he was the one who’d vouched for Riarun as a priest. If Riarun caused a scandal by marrying, Yurichen’s honor would be dragged down with him.

“You won’t be able to.”

A chilling voice cut through the air.

Riarun turned, puzzled. The lips under the mask were moving. The scornful voice came again.

“There’s no way you could ever get married. Judging by your temperament, your behavior…”

The insult was as childish as it was vicious. In response, Riarun stuffed his mouth with mashed potatoes and shoved the rest of the plate toward Banwes like a cat hurling revenge.

The villagers’ songs showed no signs of ending. He had no idea where they got such endless stamina.

So happy hearts really can summon strength from nothing, huh.

Before he knew it, Riarun was tapping his toes to the beat. After hearing the same melody repeat over and over, it was starting to grow familiar. He even hummed along a little—only to be caught in the act by Penzey.

The mage grinned as if he’d just heard a lark singing.

“You’re tone-deaf.”

It sounded like teasing, but Rialun wasn’t bothered.

“Guess that means I won’t be a bard.”

Penzey’s eyes went wide like coins.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I once made a list of 110 jobs I wanted to try after leaving the—well, after leaving the order. They only made us memorize scripture every day and forbade us from doing anything ‘lowly’ like the commoners did. But me? I wanted to try everything—even jobs people called undignified.”

He spoke with exaggerated innocence, like a clueless noble brat. Penzey listened with growing interest and asked for an example.

“One of the jobs was ‘husband.’”

“Husband’s not a job, you know.”

“Isn’t it? Still, I wanted to try it.”

As he spoke, a troubling thought floated to the surface of his mind.

Would kissing Banwes a few times be enough to disqualify him from marriage? He wouldn’t hide his past kisses from a future partner. But… if he told them about the demon, it might put them in danger…

He kept eating nonstop, and soon his stomach was nearly full. Meanwhile, Penzey had already emptied nearly half of the large barrel of alcohol beside them.

Riarun grew curious about the clear drink that sparkled as it was poured and made the mage’s throat bob so satisfyingly.

“Wanna try?”

Penzey offered him the fragrant wooden cup with the air of a devil trying to tempt a soul. That comparison came easily, mostly because Yurichen was watching.

“…Have a taste,” said Yurichen.

Penzey was even more shocked than Riarun. He stared at the high priest, sitting upright and dignified, as if he’d just been slapped across the back of the head.

“I thought you said you’ve never drunk before.”

“Then perhaps you should try it at least once.”

This wasn’t another test from the high priest… was it? Still, curiosity was stronger than caution. One of the jobs on Riarun’s list had been ‘drunkard.’

He held the cup with both hands. A spicy yet sweet aroma tickled his nose. One sip, and his throat burned with heat.