Chapter 19: What do Humans Drink?

“…”

It felt strange. Completely different from when I threw the knights to Insects.

There was no small sense of satisfaction, no dark contentment.

Just emptiness.

Since coming of age, I had never once harbored any foolish desire to make a name for myself.

Back at the academy, aside from Lowell and Senior Julian, no one truly acknowledged me.

Even while journeying with comrades to save the world, people remembered Lowell or the others quicker, louder, and with more importance than me.

That was natural, and I never resented it.

So why?

The Sokren gang was different from the knights.

Aside from the fact that the knights lured me into a trap, they were rude.

Petty, foolish, and completely unaware of their place—they flapped their mouths without thinking.

They mocked me, and dared to insult my comrades.

So I made them pay for that.

But these people were different.

They weren’t rude.

If anything, they were simply convinced I was a fraud, because to them, the companion of a Hero should be someone great and extraordinary.

So, to be precise, they weren’t mocking or insulting me or my comrades.

The irritation and anger I felt earlier were purely because of my own ego.

Because of my pride.

I was just venting over the disregard and ignorance directed at me.

But why?

Do I suddenly want recognition now?

Do I want to be acknowledged?

Just because I once stood beside Lowell?

What a joke.

My achievements mean nothing.

If Lowell hadn’t been there, if the other comrades hadn’t been there, none of it would’ve been possible.

And at the same time, even without me, things would’ve turned out fine.

Anyone could’ve done what I did.

There’s no real portion of it that was mine.

And yet… I find myself craving it now?

Even after taking Denatel’s space and setting aside a share of treasure for myself?

“How pathetic. Truly pathetic.”

At my muttering, the horse momentarily grew agitated.

Even though it had remained calm amidst the crowd and the cold of Niflheim, it now stomped its feet and let out a low whine.

“It’s okay. It’s alright.”

I gently tugged on the reins, and the horse quickly settled.

It really was a good horse.

“…Let’s go.”

After that, I drove the carriage, focusing solely on the small light floating in front of me, trying hard to rid my mind of all useless thoughts.

Leaving behind the twin white moons hanging in the sky and Saruteges.

Originally, I had planned to let the horse rest shortly after leaving Amusbian.

But in this state, I couldn’t go to see her.

She would surely notice my unease.

…What she truly felt toward me—whether it was emotion or a hidden motive—I couldn’t say for sure.

A foolish delusion?

Cold reality?

Undeserved blessing?

Or cruel deception?

I don’t know which one has been given to me.

So whether she’ll worry when she sees me like this, or be curious, or even take pleasure in it—I don’t know.

But one thing I do know for certain is that none of it is welcome to me.

What I need right now is balance.

It’s only been a few days since I’ve been away from Lowell, but already, I’m losing that balance.

Even though nothing much has changed in my daily life since that great war, during that time my mind and emotions were mostly calm, save for the occasional ripple.

But now, it’s different.

The ripples come more frequently—and grow larger.

The reason is simple.

Here, in this place, there is no brilliant sun, no beautiful moon, no guiding star to chase that black thing back into the depths below the surface.

Only biting flies, licking their lips, fly around.

So I must find my own balance.

I must push back down whatever dares to lift its head without knowing its place.

If I don’t, then I’ll be the one to sink beneath the surface.

***

I don’t know how much time passed like that.

Only when the horse’s once-spirited steps began to show signs of fatigue, and the directionless thoughts swirling in my head started to thin out a little, did I finally raise my head and look up at the sky.

“Whoa, whoa.”

I pulled the reins and brought the horse to a stop.

It was time to let the horse rest—and me, too.

“You did well. Go ahead and rest now.”

I first drove a small stake into the ground and unhitched the horse from the carriage.

The horse scraped the ground with its hoof a bit, as if feeling relieved, then lay down with its belly flat on the earth near the stake.

It must have been tired after all, even though it hadn’t shown it.

“Rest well.”

Honestly, at this point, it probably wasn’t even necessary, but I still tied the horse to the stake and scattered some Sandman’s sand around before erecting a barrier.

This road was one of the paths leading to Amusbian, after all.

There could be bandits or other travelers passing through, so I paid extra attention to the barrier.

“I’ll see you later.”

Returning to the carriage, I took a crystal from my coat.

Pouring in a bit more mana than usual, I activated the crystal—and in an instant, the carriage and I were inside Denatel’s library.

“Welcome back!”

Despite the late hour, she greeted me far more brightly than usual.

Unless that was an act, it must mean she was genuinely happy about what happened yesterday.

“Looks like everything went well?”

She glanced at the carriage and the luggage inside as she spoke.

“Yes. It went well. A few annoying things here and there, but I got to see an old academy senior again—and even brought back a nice gift.”

“What is it?”

“Antares.”

“Antares? Zeka’s lieutenant?”

Ah, right.

Now that she mentions it, his name was Antares too.

That’s why, when he first pulled me into that subspace and introduced himself, I couldn’t help but laugh.

“No, no. Antares is the name of a wine. I used to like it back in the academy days, and it seems he still remembered that.”

“Wine? Alcohol? What do you people even see in that bitter stuff that makes it worth drinking?”

She was asking sincerely.

Well, of course she would.

Demons aren’t so much biological beings as they are more like spirits or gods—closer to being spiritual entities.

That’s why they don’t need to eat, and even if they do for entertainment, it’s instantly converted into energy.

In other words, no poison, no matter how strong, can affect them.

And naturally, no matter how strong the alcohol, they can’t get drunk.

To someone who can’t get drunk, alcohol is nothing more than bitter water with a faint added flavor—nothing more, nothing less.

“What Lady Ropena considers ‘flavor’ and the taste of alcohol are slightly different concepts. You could say… it’s a form of amusement granted only to the imperfect.”

“I can’t understand that.”

Of course she couldn’t understand.

Intentionally numbing and dulling a part of yourself to bring out imperfect fragments or sides you try to hide—dragging yourself down even further in your imperfection.

A foolish form of self-consolation only mortals partake in.

There’s no way she could understand.

“So, this senior of yours… what kind of person was he?”

“An incredible person. Skilled, handsome, well-liked. I’d say he’s similar to Lowell. Like the sun, really.”

Too dazzling to even look at directly.

…If only he weren’t a man, that would’ve been perfect.

“Sounds like you were pretty close.”

“We shared a room in the dorms. Aside from Lowell, he was the only one who treated me well at the Academy.”

A bit too much, actually.

“And you weren’t entirely pleased about that, were you?”

My face involuntarily stiffened for a moment.

She noticed the flash of discomfort and gave a triumphant smile.

“…Well, to a certain extent.”

At this point, there was no point in hiding it.

“But how did you know?”

“Your expression changed when you talked about him. It wasn’t dislike… more like fear, gratitude, admiration—maybe even a touch of regret.”

Am I really that easy to read?

No, that can’t be.

Back at the Academy, I came in second at a poker tournament hosted by the student council.

No one—not even Lowell—could tell if I had a good hand or was bluffing.

Incidentally, the one exception—and the person who won first place—was Julian.

He could see through almost all my hands.

I could never beat him.

“If I had to define it, I’d say… all of the above.”

“Hoo. I’d like to meet this guy sometime.”

Please don’t.

“I doubt there’ll be a chance. You won’t be leaving here, and I won’t be bringing him here either. Even if it were possible, I’d rather avoid you both meeting if I can.”

“Now then, could you wait a moment? I need to concentrate.”

At my gesture, strange symbols and lights floated in the air.

This was the end of our conversation.

It wasn’t a pleasant topic to begin with, and the night was already deep.

If I wanted to overlay the wards and get some sleep, I didn’t have much time.

Symbols and light etched themselves into my body and repeated again.

After some time, I was applying the sixth barrier and preparing the seventh when she, who had been silently watching, finally opened her mouth with a tone of exasperation.

“You do know that even with just that Janus Talisman, you could easily block several of my most serious high-level spells, right?”

Of course I know.

It takes a while to activate again, but for a set period, it would offer enough defense even against her.

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“And you’re still going to stack seven layers of barriers?”

I admit it.

I’ve been told endlessly since the last war that I treat barriers like some obsessive compulsion.

“Of course.”

At my motion, lights and symbols floated once again in the air.

Call it a compulsion if you want—I don’t care.

It’s thanks to this habit that I’m still alive.

“…If I remember correctly, you fought just fine even without those wearable barrier, didn’t you? When I and the Flame Demon Legion launched a full-scale attack on Tokl Castle overnight, you held the north gate by yourself.”

“Not entirely by myself. There were defenders.”

“Right. The ones who would’ve been wiped out within 10 minutes if you hadn’t been there.”

She wasn’t wrong.

The main forces of Tokl Castle had been deployed to the frontlines.

The ones left behind were mostly retired veterans who picked up their swords again, injured soldiers who couldn’t be evacuated, and a few volunteer militia.

There was no way they could’ve withstood a fight against one of the Demon King’s five elite legions.

“Even so, you attacked only from the south gate, didn’t you? And you were so upright about it, you charged right in through the main entrance, which made it possible for us to defend.”

“Hmph. I’ve never been one for cowardly tricks like ambushes or diversion tactics.”

She said it proudly, but really—if a high-ranking commander says strategy is cowardly, what can you do?

If I were the Demon King, I would’ve sighed.

No wonder things turned out the way they did.

I felt bad for her, but this outcome was inevitable.

She was certainly powerful—one of the top-ranking demons—but power alone doesn’t make a good commander.

Even if that power could wipe out a couple of castles from the map by herself.