Chapter 2:
The Nice Perch
SOME RAIN WOULD HAVE BEEN PERFECT GIVEN my circumstances, but unfortunately, the sky was clear. Filburn was a labyrinthstadt—a labyrinth city full of the hopes and dreams of young abenteurers. It was a lively, prosperous town thanks to the rewards of the labyrinth and the people that it attracted.
In this nation, it was well-known that you could source anything from the labyrinth. There were riches, obviously, but also marvelous sights and special monster materials that couldn’t be found outside. It was a dangerous, unexplored, and endless region that boasted anything a poet could possibly wish to write about.
The status and recognition you could gain for exploring it was limitless. The bonds forged by comrades who had fought together in the face of death were perhaps stronger than even blood.
However, what stood out the most was the risk of losing everything at a moment’s notice. The fools who didn’t let that stop them were known as “abenteurers.” Though, as you could probably tell from what had just happened to me, things weren’t actually so simple.
“Heh heh…” I couldn’t stop laughing. The people on the streets seemed to be enjoying themselves. I was the only one at rock bottom. In a daze, I headed for an inn. I wanted a place to go, even for just a little while.
The clock tower that stood as the symbol of Filburn loomed over me. Juxtaposed against the tallest structure in the whole world, I only felt even tinier and more insignificant.
Miraculously, my feet were able to carry me to the inn where I had stayed the first night I came to this town. I unpacked my things, laid on the bed, and stared at the ceiling.
Where do I go from here?
I had some savings. I had been too busy to spend my funds, and since I had somehow managed to spend the last few years working for a B-Rank party, I could afford to feed myself for a while. Staying at an inn would be expensive, so I would have to find somewhere else.
I absentmindedly did some quick math. Yup, if I find a place and spend frugally, I’ll be able to survive for half a year.
By then, I would have to find another stable source of income, but…could someone like me actually find one? I was sure there would be parties looking to hire if I visited the Abenteurers’ Guild, but I doubted any would be willing to hire a support caster. I was confident in my skills, but not so much that I believed they would be enough to overcome the poor image society had of us.
Should I go solo? No, that would only be undermining the role of a support caster. I would be able to hunt small fry, but I would be on the same level as an E-Rank party. No, even that was overselling it—probably more like an F-Rank party.
“Ugh, I just want to die.”
I wondered when saying that had become a habit of mine. I didn’t think I ever said it in front of others, but I felt that I must have muttered it once every minute when I was alone.
I wasn’t quite sure what you were supposed to do when you were feeling down, so I decided to do the simplest thing and follow what others would do. In other words, I went drinking. The tavern I chose was the Nice Perch, an establishment hidden in a back alley that I visited occasionally, though not to the degree of being considered a regular.
“Come on in! Oh, it’s Wim!” Grete, the face of the tavern, welcomed me inside. She was an energetic young woman, amazing at customer service with a blinding smile. “I heard Drachenflügel defeated a boss! Congrats!”
So, word had already spread.
I silently took a seat at the bar. The tavern was relatively empty, but all who had been in earshot of Grete turned to look at me, bombarding praise at me like “Congrats!” and “You must feel like you’re on the top of the world!” and “You treating us all today, Wim?”
Thankfully, none came to approach me.
“You’re an A-Rank party now! Oh, you must have come to celebrate!”
Now that she mentioned it, I had only ever come to celebrate before—specifically, when our party climbed a rank or other similar circumstances.
“Oh, no. Actually, well… I’m not here to celebrate. Heh heh!”
“You aren’t?”
“For now, um, could you grab me a beer and the usual sausage?”
“Coming right up!”
The Nice Perch’s famous lamb sausages were as thick as an arm, and in an instant, I had a portion and a mug of beer before me. It was a single dish, but the serving size was huge. You would have to be a blue-collar laboring man to finish the whole plate.
I set aside my knife, stabbed the whole thing with my fork, and began to chow down, washing it down with a gulp of beer. Then, I ate and drank some more. Once I felt the area around my mouth had begun to get messy, I wiped myself clean with a cool cloth. Then, it was back to eating.
“Fweh heh heh…”
I couldn’t really taste my meal, though I felt like it was so delicious I could down plenty. Maybe it was seasoned by my unfortunate circumstances.
The rest of the customers finally sensed this was no time to celebrate. The energy in the room died down and they returned to their own conversations. Grete, however, continued to watch over me. I sensed kindness in her silence.
“Heh, heh!” Oh no, I was about to laugh again.
Sometimes, we all came here to celebrate. Though that was only a handful of times, since they almost never invited me. I had a hard time working my way into circles, and I wasn’t good with my words either. Laughing was the only response I was ever able to muster, now that I thought about it. But still, those days were so, so fun…
Damn it. I was starting to get teary-eyed.
The door suddenly flew open.
“Wim!”
My vision was focused on my plate, but I heard a familiar voice coming from somewhere outside my view. It was a girl with thick, red-tinged blonde hair tied up in bouncing pigtails. While her looks were average in this country, she managed to stand out quite a bit.
She just had a sense of presence. She was unafraid of drawing attention to herself, even the bad kind. All that audacity didn’t seem to fit her small frame, so it drew eyes to her.
There was no mistaking it. She was my childhood friend, the girl from my home village, Heidemarie. Oddly, she seemed out of breath.
“Welcome! Oh, it’s Sue, Wim’s stalker.”
“Shut up, you cow! Wait, that’s not what’s important right now.”
Heidemarie and Grete couldn’t lock gazes without shouting insults at each other. Well… They walked a fine line between genuine and sarcastic, so it didn’t feel malicious. Basically, they were good friends—though a petite girl like Heidemarie and a mature woman like Grete did make for an odd pair.
“Wim! Um, well…”
She must already know I was kicked out.
Given the circumstances, even she was at a bit of a loss for words. “Are you…okay?”
“So, the news has already spread?”
“Oh, no. I’m the only one who knows. But still, I can’t believe it! That damn bastard!”
“But how do you know?”
“I mean, I know everything about you, Wim!” Her face was dead serious. She wasn’t joking.
So, it really has spread already.
“What, Sue? Did something happen to Wim?” asked Grete.
Heidemarie cast her an awkward look. She really was a kind girl and didn’t want to add to the rumors by spreading around my mistakes and shame. Well, I guess it was on me to say something.
“Actually…I was kicked out of Drachenflügel.”
“Huh?!”
The whole tavern fell silent.
✦ ✦ ✦
I knew something had happened once I sensed that the transmission crest I had placed on Wim had left his party’s house and stopped at an inn meant for beginning abenteurers. I immediately activated the alphorn and replayed the conversation that had transpired in Drachenflügel.
“Get out of our faces, loser.”
I was shocked at what I heard.
✦ ✦ ✦
I always knew that piece of garbage was capable of this. Seriously, this is exactly why I was against Wim joining Drachenflügel in the first place! Wim may have chosen this path but treating him like this was just too much.
It seemed like Wim was heading for the Nice Perch, probably to try to drown his sorrows in liquor. I bolted from my room and made a beeline for him.
“Wim!”
When I opened the door to the tavern, he looked incredibly pathetic. He was slumped over with a gloomy expression, which…was how he usually looked. However, this was worse than usual! Oddly enough, his black hair that marked him as an immigrant seemed to suit him perfectly in this state. He kept his hair short for functionality, but all it did was reveal his expressions to the world. It had the opposite effect.
This may sound mean, but he reeked of loser. A stinging aura of sorrow and self-hatred swirled around him. Even a child would get the drift and know not to approach him. The sight took me back to our younger days. I never wanted to see him like this again. We had even vowed to do our best to make sure that didn’t happen.
“Welcome! Oh, it’s Sue, Wim’s stalker.”
A girl who was nothing but big knockers came to greet me, so I kicked her aside. “Shut up, you cow! Wait, that’s not what’s important right now. Wim! Um, well… Are you okay?”