Chapter 39: The Way Home

“The place has changed quite a bit, huh?”

I walk through what used to be the old town carrying a paper bag. This area has been redeveloped as the gateway to ‘Pioneer City Malhas,’ and all traces of the village where I grew up have disappeared. Well, since the faces of the people living here haven’t changed, I don’t feel too lonely about it.

“Oh, Jurg!”

“Hey, Bitz, what are you doing around here?”

“I’m heading to training now.”

“I see. Good luck then.”

I wave my hand lightly as Bitz runs off. I thought he would take over the inn, but it seems he’s aiming to become an adventurer. Well, I understand how he feels. Over the past year, I’ve had several occasions where I felt ‘helpless.’ It’s something a man would think about.

Sitting on a bench by the flower bed, I take a bite of the soft, white bread I bought. This bread, with its strong buttery flavor and a hint of salt, is something new to Malhas. Looking around, many trading companies have been attracted to set up shops here as part of the redevelopment of the old town.

With this level of development, no one would call this place a remote cold village anymore. There’s a well-maintained, brand-new cobblestone path, and residential areas and shopping streets are neatly organized. Even a road to the adventurer’s guild where I usually am has been built, and stalls are starting to line up on Adventurer’s Avenue like in Advante.

Saran’s plan is working out quite well.

“Jurg? Did I keep you waiting?”

“You are early, Fimia.”

“I had a bit of free time today. Did you manage to get the bread and potatoes?”

“Yeah. Although I ate one piece of bread on the way.”

Fimia chuckles softly at my words.

“Sneaking food, I see.”

“Don’t say that. I bought dried strawberries for you.”

“…!”

I also laugh a little at Fimia’s smiling face. It seems like that was the right choice.

“I feel somewhat restless when you show me such consideration.”

“Huh?”

“I’m not used to it yet. You see, the Jurg I’ve known for a long time has always been so unresponsive and wooden.”

I sigh at Fimia’s words. Well, it’s a fact, so there’s no room for argument.

“Now, let’s head back. Hand me the bags.”

“I can carry them myself. Please don’t spoil me too much.”

“…Finding the right balance is difficult.”

Fimia laughs softly at my complaint. Her golden hair shines in the sinking sunset, and it looks beautiful. It feels a little wrong to be allowed to love such a woman.

“As the sun sets, it’ll get even colder, so shall we hurry?”

“Yeah. Didn’t forget anything, did we?”

“Um, I think we’re fine. And if we missed anything, we can buy it tomorrow.”

“…That’s true.”

I nod slightly at Fimia’s words. I hope for days where we can say ‘tomorrow’ forever. I truly think so from the bottom of my heart.

“By the way, what happened with the dungeon exploration plan?”

“Oh, it’s still under discussion whether it’ll be managed by the Adventurer Company or left open to adventurers.”

“Each has its pros and cons.”

“I’d prefer to leave it open to adventurers… but the problem is the inconsistency in information accuracy.” 

I walk with Fimia while talking about the dungeon exploration plan on the way back home. I don’t dislike this peaceful time. There isn’t much of the strange tension we used to have with each other anymore.

As Rolo said, it’s important for us to talk to each other. Fimia was too fixated on her ‘saintly’ mission, and I rejected her feelings and actions, keeping her at a distance.

We were out of sync. Both of us. When we shared honest and straightforward words with each other, we naturally calmed down. I came to accept it. Both the relationship between the saint and the hero, and the change in consciousness that comes with it.

However, thanks to being exposed to such straightforward emotions, I’m now at a loss. I have no idea what to do. If anything, swinging the warhammer and eliminating monsters in the depths was still easier.

“You’re making a difficult face again.”

“I never seem to run out of troubles.”

“I’m here to listen to your concerns. Please don’t worry too much.”

The source of my worries whispers to me in a cool voice.

Well, I think that’s well said… but, we’ve decided to be honest with each other.

So, when we get back home, I’ll make an effort to talk properly.

I’ve only recently learned how surprisingly reassuring it is to be accepted for everything.

“Hey, Fimia.”

“Yes, what is it?”

“Are you sure you’re okay with me?”

I ask the ‘saint’ once again.

This is the underlying cause of my anxiety.

An unknown orphan who was called a ‘scoundrel’ in Malhas.

A worthless person spreading malicious intent like a monster.

I thought only Rolo needed and accepted such a person.

But it seems that was my mistake.

“You were the one I wanted, Jurg.”

Saying so, Fimia comes close to me.

Walking right beside me, our shoulders almost touching, she smiles softly.

“This isn’t a word as a saint’s mission. It’s my word as a woman.”

“…You’re such a bad woman.”

“Well, Jurg. You can’t just ignore what I said, you know?”

“Because you’re that kind of woman, I want to cherish you.”

At my following words, Fimia blushes.

It might have been just right for her bashfulness to blur in the setting sun that is already beginning to fall.

For each other.

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