“Nice to meet you, uh, Sister Alicia? I’m Elcyon. People call me the Hero and stuff, but I’m just a regular merc.”
“You humble yourself, Sir Hero,” I replied as I shook the offered hand. It felt too small to be the hand of a champion. “You are a treasure to all humanity.”
“Feels kinda awkward when you say it like that...”
The Hero reached into his cloak, pulled out a leather sack that stank of blood, and handed it across the bar.
The innkeeper took it and briefly opened it to check the contents. “Just be a minute,” he said, disappearing into a back room.
“What was that?” I asked, staring after the innkeeper.
“It’s...” The Hero hesitated a moment. “Demon parts.”
Ah, so that’s why he calls him “boss.”
This inn was also a mercenary guild office, apparently. Mercenaries got bounties from the kingdom based on how many demons they killed. Since the numbers were all self-reported, I’d heard they brought back demon body parts as proof, but...
“You slew that many all on your own?”
“That’s how I stay fed.”
He took a sip from a wooden cup the innkeeper had handed him before leaving. It had an unfamiliar milky aroma, too sweet to be alcohol.
“So, what’s your deal?” he asked. “Never seen the guys here this quiet before.”
Shit. I glared over at the three dumbasses; they had missed their cue to go back to their seats and were awkwardly hovering near the bar. If I tried to put on the “frail and innocent bride” act out here, it’d turn into a joke.
“Would it be all right if we spoke elsewhere?” I asked. “I’d prefer to avoid any unpleasant rumors spreading.”
“Fine with me. Can’t just ignore a messenger from His Eminence. Let’s talk upstairs—I’ve got a room here.”
The “boss” had just returned from the back with a handful of gold and silver coins. The Hero accepted the money and walked off toward the back stairs.
I tried to hand over a few silver coins separate from my drink tab to smooth over the trouble earlier, but the innkeeper politely refused.
“Can’t just take your money, unless you’re gonna be stayin’ here.”
Unfortunately, I already had a room waiting for me elsewhere.
“In that case, a round of drinks for everyone, please,” I said. “I fear I may have sobered them up somewhat.”
“Happy to provide. I’m runnin’ a business here, after all.”
As he gave me a wink and called out to the crowd of uncomfortable-looking guys, I got a better sense for what kind of place this was. Men who lived on the battlefield, staring death in the eyes every day, needed somewhere they could relax and let go of their worries for a while.
“This is a nice inn,” I told him as I followed after the Hero.
“The regulars are good folks too. They get a bit too ballsy sometimes, though.”
“I hope they’ve learned something of a lesson today in that regard.”
The narrow wooden staircase seemed like it’d be a tight squeeze for a heavily armed soldier, but the Hero’s gear was surprisingly light. The weapon peeking out under his cloak was on the longer side of what I’d call a short sword, and I didn’t see a bow or a spear on him. It was hard to believe he’d taken on so many demons with such minimal equipment—or rather, I supposed that was exactly why he was the Hero.
Everyone said demons’ physical abilities were on a completely different level from humans’. That was why mercenaries fighting demons would group up into parties with assigned roles. The vanguard would focus on defense, the rear guard would look for openings to strike, and once the demon was weakened, the group would charge in for the kill. Without supporting and complementing each other, humans had no hope of crossing that fundamental physiological gap; a one-on-one fight was plain suicide. But there were a small handful of champions out there who could somehow even the odds—foremost among them, the Hero who’d succeeded in vanquishing the Demon Lord.
As we walked down a sparse hallway, decorated with a single tiny window, the blood-covered Hero interrupted my musing. “Is this your first time seeing guys like us?” He probably meant mercenaries, not champions.
“I’m afraid it is,” I answered. “I apologize for my ignorance in these matters. I suppose you must find it laughable.”
“No, you’re fine. Just makes it easier for me, is all. I get uncomfortable when people come in thinking they already know what I’m like.”
The room he led me to was small and spartan, with nothing but a bed, a little round table, and a chair. The window facing the main street was shut and latched tight, leaving the space dim and claustrophobic.
He put down his things and lit a candle. I could see a bathroom attached to the bedroom, but it looked equally bare-bones; it probably didn’t have any hot water.
He offered me the single chair, but I politely refused. “I am merely an envoy. Please, allow me simply to accept your kind thoughts.”
There was no way I’d ever let my guard down around this freak of nature. Call it professional paranoia.
“Just feel free to sit if you get tired.” In contrast to my caution, the Hero looked completely relaxed as he smiled at me, taking off his gear and setting it on the table. “Okay if we talk while I clean up?”
“Please, go right ahead, sir.”
I’d expected more of an uphill struggle just getting him to let me into his room; I’d already lucked out.
“If you have any injuries, I’d be more than happy to heal them,” I offered.
He didn’t nod, though; he just held out his hand to gesture that I should keep talking. It seemed like he was willing to listen, but wasn’t especially interested in what I had to say.
I couldn’t entirely blame him—everyone knew a messenger from the Church was never good news. Still, I had my job to do. I reached into my waist pouch and took out a fake letter the cardinal had given me, hoping it’d get the Hero to sit up and pay more attention... It was a lost cause, though.
“To put matters simply, I have been sent here to guard you. We’ve received reports that factions of the Demon Lord’s army are on the move once again, and we fear that they may target you as the Demon Lord’s killer.” I paused to get my story straight. “In order to maintain cohesion, our forces are in need of a charismatic figure to rally around. If anything were to befall the champion who vanquished the Demon Lord, our entire nation’s morale would be impacted. I hope you can understand our concern.”
It was half truth, half lies. We were facing attacks from the former Demon Lord’s army, but they weren’t displaying any organized movement, and there was no sign that they were targeting the Hero. As things stood, it looked more like demons were just wandering around killing as they pleased.
It was possible that it could be a ploy to distract us, but that seemed unlikely. According to the Church’s analysis, it’d be a while longer before the demons found a new leader capable of uniting their entire species. Currently, most of the knights were rushing to hunt down as many remaining demons as possible before that could happen.
Having the “Church of the Hero” pop up in the middle of this precious reprieve must’ve really pissed them off. Not that I cared; it wasn’t my department.
“I don’t need help. I’ve told them before.”
Yup, you sure have. The reports I’d read had gone over all those offers and refusals in detail. They’d also made it obvious that the Hero didn’t actually need any help whatsoever.