As we walked through town, passed through the gates, and left the main road to head toward the base of the Sherzon Hills—or rather, Sherzon Mountain—the three of us barely talked. Even though we walked side by side the whole way, no one made an effort to fill the silence.
To be honest, it was awkward. Liluetta was clearly irritated, Yune was visibly nervous, and even the gate guards gave us questioning looks. Everything felt like it was ten times harder than it needed to be.
But in that long, wordless stretch, a question started to form in my mind.
“Let’s switch to formation here,” I suggested, because the trail would narrow once we entered the mountain paths. “Same as yesterday. I’ll take the front, Liluetta stays in the middle, and Yune takes the rear.”
“Got it,” Liluetta responded briskly.
“Understood,” said Yune.
The two of them moved into position as instructed. This kind of exchange was easy enough. But since we couldn’t walk side by side anymore, conversation died out completely. That silence really bothered me.
I decided to try asking the question that had been on my mind. “Liluetta, did you become an adventurer just for your family’s sake?”
I’d been thinking about it while we walked. Someone from a wealthy family like Liluetta wasn’t struggling to make a living. She didn’t need to go adventuring every day. If she didn’t feel up to it, she could take a break whenever she wanted.
But here she was, setting out again without hesitation, even after getting so angry earlier and dealing with those guys who wanted to use her for her name—even though she had said the repeated mountain treks were exhausting just yesterday. And today, her mood had to be worse than ever.
After a pause, she asked, “Why?”
“Because you’re serious about this,” I replied.
If I had to sum up the strange feeling I’d been getting, that was it. She studied herbs before our outings. She listened to advice and actually followed it. Even when she was frustrated, she still prepared and set out for another day of adventuring. And just now, when I gave instructions, she responded right away and did exactly as I said. Liluetta was a very serious person.
That was why I thought becoming an adventurer was so strange for someone like her.
“What kind of answer is that? That doesn’t explain anything,” Liluetta said, unimpressed.
“Uh, sorry.”
“Besides, even if I had another reason, it wouldn’t concern you.” And just like that, she shut down the conversation. She was still in a bad mood, no doubt about it.
We continued making our way up the rough mountain path, keeping an eye on our surroundings. There was no need to search for herbs on the way since we planned to gather them at the mana pool, but I still wasn’t as skilled at being vigilant as Old Badger. Plus, trying to hold a conversation while staying alert made for some awkward pauses.
“Adventurers are just a no-good bunch of scoundrels,” I said, recalling something I’d heard before. Just then, I could’ve sworn I heard a raspy chuckle in the back of my mind.
I started counting on my fingers as I listed off what had stuck with me. “Let’s see. There’s the starry-eyed idiot chasing dreams of becoming a hero. The idiot who’ll do anything to get out of an honest day’s work. The idiot who’s too useless to fit in anywhere else. The idiot treasure hunter gambling on striking it rich. And the idiot who just doesn’t think at all. I think that’s all of them?”
“That’s a whole lot of idiots,” Liluetta said dryly.
I shrugged. “Maybe I didn’t get it exactly right, but most people who become adventurers are like that. Normal people don’t want to fight scary monsters. They choose safe jobs and live secure lives instead.”
I’d fought a goblin once, and it had swung a rusty sword at me. The sword had only hit my shoulder armor, so I hadn’t been seriously injured, but it had hurt like hell. It had scared me too. Even now, days later and fully healed, I could still vividly remember the pain in my shoulder and the overwhelming terror that had made me tremble.
“When a regular person hires an adventurer, what they’re really saying is, ‘Go risk your life instead of me,’” I said.
Well, in my case, that goblin fight had been a guild quest.
But every day, just as Old Badger had taught me, I checked the requests posted on the guild’s wall. Some of them made my spine and heart feel like ice, like the ones that expected someone to go out and kill monsters bigger and stronger than bears just for materials. There was something seriously wrong with that—both to request such a thing and to accept it.
“‘If you succeed, I’ll pay you. But if you die, I don’t care.’ That’s what a request really means. And accepting one means agreeing to that deal.”
Wait. This isn’t what I was going to talk about.
I’d started with my curiosity about Liluetta—why she’d become an adventurer—but now I was veering way off course. My thoughts were a mess, and I was frustrated by how poorly I was explaining things.
But Liluetta and Yune stayed silent as they listened to me, so I kept going.
“Adventurers gamble their lives just to earn money to survive. They risk dying today so they can eat tomorrow. Adventurers are the ones who choose to live that way, either by ignoring how messed up that is or by knowing it’s messed up and doing it anyway. That’s why, as people, adventurers are no good.”
I grabbed onto a slender tree trunk and pulled myself up over a ledge. Then I put my spear down and reached for Liluetta and Yune to help them climb up.
“If the Magnan family is rich and has any sense, then didn’t they try to stop you from becoming an adventurer, Liluetta?”