Chapter 34: My Dear Young Lady

“Yawn…”

Histori rubbed her bleary eyes and struggled to sit up from the hay pile that had become particularly uncomfortable to sleep on.

Although it had been fairly soft and comfortable when Amir first laid it out last night, even carrying a hint of the fresh scent of nature, after being squashed by her restless sleeping all night and soaked through by the morning dew, it now felt like a damp, cold, stiff piece of cardboard, making her bones ache all over.

Of course, the discomfort of the bedding was a secondary issue.

The most important reason was—Histori hadn’t managed to get more than a few hours of sleep last night!

Just recalling the events of last night made Histori feel a throbbing pain in her skull.

First, not long after she had fallen asleep, she was forcibly awakened by the leader of the Four Heavenly Kings of the Demon Race—that voluptuous Nightmare, Bicuisi—who insisted on dragging her back to some Eternal Night Territory.

Immediately after, Amir, who should have been fast asleep, descended like a ghost from the sky and shattered Bicuisi’s avatar with a single sword strike.

After that, faced with Amir’s relentless interrogation and the heavy sword pressed against her neck, Histori had racked her brains, fabricating all sorts of lies just to barely secure a sliver of survival.

With all that back-and-forth, forget about getting proper rest—Histori felt like she had lost half her life last night.

“Awake?”

Just as Histori shifted her position on the hay pile, hoping to catch a little more shut-eye, a cool, calm voice came from her side.

“…Awake, I’m awake.”

Histori gave a start, reflexively straightening her posture.

Truthfully, she wasn’t awake at all.

After her confrontation with Amir last night, the sun was already up.

Although Amir had graciously given her a bit more time to catch up on sleep, Histori’s head still felt as heavy as lead, muddled and drowsy.

She felt like if she closed her eyes, she’d pass out immediately.

Amir, on the other hand, seemed to need no sleep at all.

She was still wearing that set of Demon King’s Army standard-issue light armor she’d taken from the Demon King’s Castle, which surprisingly fit her well.

Her posture was ramrod straight as she stood beside Histori.

…It was almost as if she had been standing there motionless, staring at Histori for hours while she slept.

“If you’re awake, then eat something, and then we’ll prepare to set off.”

Amir pulled a dry, hard flatbread from her robes and handed it to Histori.

Then, she turned and walked around the bushes ahead, waving towards the outside and calling out in a clear voice—

“Alright, my young lady is awake now. We can board the carriage.”

Y-Young lady?

Wait, who is Amir talking to?

Who could possibly be out here in this wilderness?

Histori blinked in confusion, her drowsiness instantly fading by more than half.

She hurriedly patted the grass bits off her skirt, stuffed the bland, utterly unsalted flatbread Amir had given her into her mouth, and chewed with difficulty as she quickly walked out of the thicket to stand beside Amir.

What greeted her eyes was a rather spacious passenger carriage, parked on the dirt road through the woods.

The coachman sitting in the driver’s seat wore a tattered straw hat and was currently eyeing Amir, clad in her demonic uniform, with a wary and suspicious gaze.

However, when the coachman’s gaze passed over Amir and landed on Histori emerging from the bushes, the hostility in his eyes vanished for the most part.

Though draped in a large, deep gray cloak, Histori’s sun-bright, pale golden hair, snow-white skin, and that exquisitely beautiful face without a single flaw all loudly proclaimed her status as someone of wealth and nobility.

The coachman forced a sycophantic, friendly smile onto his face, then took off his straw hat and made a respectful, inviting gesture towards Histori and Amir.

“Young lady, after seeing my attire, this coachman seemed to think I was a demon spy and absolutely refused to give us a ride.”

Amir, still in her demon uniform, turned around and shrugged helplessly at Histori, a faint smile curling at the corner of her lips—

“I told you, you should pick a different hobby. Collecting demonic attire is far too niche a pastime in the borderlands. If not for your noble appearance and bearing, we might really have had to walk to Vulcania today.”

“…Huh? Um, Ami…”

Before Histori could figure out what was happening, Amir suddenly took a step forward.

Then, naturally extending her slender index finger, she gently pressed it against Histori’s lips.

Immediately after, she leaned down slightly, bringing her lips close to Histori’s ear, and whispered—

“Shh, my dear young lady. My hair and eye color can be fudged with a little trick, but there’s not much to be done about this Demon King’s Army uniform on me. Play along for now, okay?”

“…”

Feeling that warm, moist breath against her earlobe, Histori’s cheeks involuntably flushed with a hint of red.

She deliberately straightened her not-particularly-buxom chest, slightly lifted her chin, and adopted the arrogant, willful air of a spoiled young lady—

“Hmph! My hobbies are my own freedom! Does this young lady need you lowly servants telling her what she can like or what she can have her subordinates wear?!”

“My apologies, young lady. I know you didn’t sleep well last night and are still feeling a bit of morning irritability.”

Amir seamlessly caught Histori’s performance.

She gave a slight bow, then reached out and gently took hold of Histori’s slender fingers—

“However, the wind outside might chill you. If you truly wish to vent your displeasure, perhaps you could wait until we are in the carriage before punishing me slowly?”

After witnessing this lively interaction between the two, the coachman nearby hurried over obsequiously, lowered the carriage step, and respectfully ushered his two esteemed customers into the carriage compartment.

—

Well, riding in a carriage and riding a horse were indeed two completely different experiences.

Previously, when Amir had carried her on horseback at a gallop, the horse’s constant jolting had always made Histori feel like stomach acid was churning violently at the back of her throat, filling her with the urge to vomit.

In contrast, the shock absorption on this carriage was quite decent.

It only swayed gently occasionally, even making one feel a bit drowsy.

However…

As the carriage continued forward, the sense of dissonance in Histori’s heart grew stronger and stronger.

She lifted the linen curtain of the carriage window and looked towards the distant border city whose outline she could vaguely make out last night.

That city wasn’t getting larger.

Instead, it was growing smaller and fuzzier in her line of sight.

“Um, Lady Amir…”

Histori lowered the curtain and looked somewhat uneasily at the black-haired girl sitting opposite her.

“What is it?”

Amir had her hands casually clasped behind her head, her long legs crossed, and her eyes slightly narrowed as she rested.

That lazy, casual, and somewhat dangerous-looking posture didn’t resemble a Hero in the slightest; it looked more like a street thug or ruffian.

“My sense of direction might not be the best… but, that border city… is it getting farther away from us?”

Histori pointed in the direction outside the window and said hesitantly—

“Could it be that there’s no direct road from that forest to the United Kingdom, and we need to take a huge detour from here to…”

“Your feeling is correct. We are indeed moving farther away from the United Kingdom.”

Amir let out a small yawn towards the carriage window, then casually propped her chin on her fist—

“We’re not going to the United Kingdom. Before that, we’re heading southwest of it.”

Histori was taken aback.

“…Southwest?”

“Mhm. That’s the land of the Dwarves. To be precise, the Dwarf capital city, Vulcania.”

Amir’s tone was as calm as if she were saying they were going to buy a baguette from the corner bakery this afternoon—

“We’re going there to pick up their Sacred Artifact.”