“That’s true,” said Dez, who understood exactly the danger Natalie posed.
“What’s going on at the guild? And how’s the old man?”
“He’s not back yet. Hector’s been running the place.”
“Well, that’s a disaster.”
Hector was a thin man past fifty who was the guild’s second-in-command, at least on paper. The position existed because it was a law that there had to be a second to act as proxy if the guildmaster was incapacitated, but Hector was not the man anybody wanted. Despite his age, he was a coward. He didn’t have a shred of ambition to bend the rules or try to get one over on the old man. All he ever thought about was getting through the day without trouble. It was the only reason the old man had let him live that long.
So he was a nobody, for better or for worse. If another disaster like the stampede happened, he’d just foam at the mouth and pass out.
If the guildmaster position had to change, then it would have a massive effect on how the guild was run, as well as the activity inside the dungeon. Five or ten years in the future might be different, but at that moment, we needed the old man.
Most importantly, though, he needed to come back for April. She was missing her beloved Grampa terribly. The whirlwind changes over the recent days had really hit her hard. The poor thing was exhausted.
“I’ll go and negotiate with the lord to see if the guildmaster can be released as soon as possible,” Arwin said, her eyes brimming with determination. “I’ll take the others with me, too. Even the Maretto sisters wouldn’t be against it.”
The guildmaster’s arrest had paralyzed the guild. It could only have a negative effect on dungeon delving.
“Is that wise?” I asked. Bloodline aside, Arwin was officially a refugee and not even a princess.
“He can’t turn me away. I just visited him the other day.”
Who would have thought her attendance at the banquet would come in handy? I’d stay at home with April in the meantime. I wouldn’t even get a chance to be present for the discussion; I had no status.
“Plus,” Arwin said, before devolving into mumbling. She was murmuring something under her breath until she finally summoned her courage to say, “I…would like to get past the current situation.”
“That’s true.”
We needed to give April peace of mind as soon as possible.
“…And you’re our guard?” I asked in disbelief.
“Do you have a problem?”
“Obviously I do, since I had to say it out loud,” I snapped. Why was Ralph, of all people, giving me lip?
“…I’ve been apprised of the situation. Don’t worry; I will provide loyal protection in Her Highness’s name.”
“Is that so?”
Capability aside, if he was bringing up Arwin’s name, he certainly felt motivated to do the right thing.
“Then for the time being, stand outside the entrance to keep watch. Don’t worry, we’ll send out a cup of tea for you.”
I had him placed outside like a guard dog. This was the craftsman’s quarter of the city, so outsiders stuck out like a sore thumb.
April came down the stairs. She looked better after getting some rest. “Here you go,” I said, offering her some hot tea. I hadn’t asked permission to use the kitchen, but I didn’t think the lady of the house would mind. If she was married to Dez, she had to be a saint.
She picked up the steaming teacup and took a sip.
“It’s delicious.”
“Glad to hear it.”
If she felt more relaxed, she’d be calmer and have better ideas. It was too early to give in to despair.
“Hey,” April said earnestly, “why are you so nice, Matthew?”
“Because I’m a degenerate.”
I was at the very bottom of humanity. I’d done just about every depraved thing there was. But because of that, I was very forgiving of human foibles. I couldn’t lecture anyone about morals.
“What was your childhood like, Matthew?”
“Very different from yours.”
I was poor, big for no good reason, and a no-good bastard. The complete opposite of the squirt.
“As I think I told you before, my parents sold me at the age of eight. I lived as a slave. I escaped my owner and got caught by bandits instead. Then I was a slave again by a different name. I escaped again and made ends meet by thieving in town until I got picked up by mercenaries. Then I became one of them.”
“It’s so hard for me to imagine you as a mercenary,” April said, shaking her head in wonder. To her, I was always just a wimpy, helpless ladies’ man. She couldn’t imagine me going to war to fight.
“Well, fighting isn’t the only skill a mercenary possesses. There are other tasks that need doing, like hauling around food and weapons.”
I also had to fight, of course. I glossed over that part around April, because once I became a mercenary, I killed countless people. Killing earned me money, which I could use to fill my belly and sleep with women. I went from a chore boy for the band to a rank-and-file fighter, and soon I was one of their prize members. Mercenaries wanted to survive, too, so they wanted to be in strong groups. There were about twenty members when I joined, and at the maximum there were a hundred of us.
“But one day we lost, and the band completely fell apart. I managed to survive somehow, but most of my fellows died. It was hard to know what I would do next. Then another survivor invited me to be an adventurer.”
There were fewer of us, but we did the same thing—we just killed monsters instead of people. And sometimes I still killed people. I killed and killed, got paid, drank, fucked, and repeated it all over again.
People came and went until just seven of us survived. Going back to my mercenary days, I’d lost dozens if not hundreds of companions. Sometimes I abandoned them to their deaths, and other times I put them out of their misery myself.
“But adventuring didn’t work out in the long run, either. The party broke up. Then I wandered far and wide until I ended up he— Hey!”
April was sniffling and sobbing. I quickly pulled out a handkerchief for her.
“Don’t cry, kid.”
“But…but…”
I assumed she was feeling pity for my plight, but I couldn’t imagine what part of that was worthy of sympathy.
“Go ahead, you can blow your nose with it,” I said. In the end, we threw two of them into the laundry bin before April had calmed down.
“…You’ve had a very rough time, Matthew,” she said.
“It’s not worth feeling sorry about.” If anything, more people hated me and for more profound reasons.
“It’s not about feeling sorry. I don’t know, I’m not explaining well. But I think I understand something now.”
“What’s that?”
“Adventurers will laugh and cry like everyone else, but their eyes are really scary. It’s like no matter how hard they try, they can’t really get drunk.”
A keen observation. All that time spent in the guild building hadn’t gone to waste. Adventurers were an uncouth lot. They’d all done things they wanted to hide. The guilt and fear showed in their eyes.
“But you’re different, Matthew. You seem lonely or sad to me. Even when you’re telling jokes, your eyes tell me you’re crying on the inside.”
“I find that the ladies are drawn to me that way.”
“Yes, those eyes exactly,” April said, peering into my face. She was very close. “But when you’re around Arwin, your eyes are very kind and gentle.”
“……”
I stopped myself from saying she was imagining it. There was no point in arguing. If that was what April had convinced herself, I didn’t mind. No matter what I was.