Once Cale arrived at his destination, the carriage driver warily opened the door. He peeked over at the shop in front of them, clearly confused.
“Is this the right place, Lord Cale?” the driver asked.
“Yes. This is it.”
Cale emerged from the carriage. He wore an elegant ensemble that looked fancy but was actually the simplest thing in his closet. His path was clear; the townspeople had scattered as soon as they glimpsed the count’s crest adorning the carriage.
Lifting his head, Cale checked the sign over the shop: POETRY AND TEA HOUSE.
Patrons of this establishment could enjoy poetry collections over a cup of tea. The three-story premises looked clean and expensive, and the owner was very wealthy. In fact, as the bastard son of the head of a large merchant fleet, he was even wealthier than Cale. He kept his lineage hidden, of course.
If I recall correctly, the shop owner goes to the capital around Volume Three and meets Choi Han. He then claims that—though he may be illegitimate—he’ll become head of the merchant fleet!
The shop owner had cried while vowing this to Choi Han. Cale had only read the first five volumes of Birth of a Hero, so he didn’t know whether the man ended up realizing his dream. He probably did, since he was one of the main character’s allies.
Cale looked at the driver, who was sweating like a pig. “You can leave.”
“Excuse me?”
“Do I have to repeat myself?”
“No! Um…don’t I need to wait for you, my lord?”
“Well, I’ll be here for a while,” Cale said flatly as he opened the tea shop door.
The driver gulped audibly behind him, but the sharp, pleasant jingle of the shop’s bell drowned it out. Its clear, soft tones announced Cale’s arrival.
Cale stood at the front and scanned the shop. It was still early, so there weren’t many patrons; the few who were there flinched at the sight of him. To be fair, the Birth of a Hero books had said that everyone in this region knew the redheaded lout. He was a merchant’s greatest enemy, as he had a tendency to break everything in shops.
A piglet of a man acknowledged Cale warmly from behind the counter. “Welcome.”
Cale stared at him. That must be the owner.
The shop’s owner, Bilose, was the wealthy son of Flynn Merchant Fleets’ head and his mistress. With his round face and plump body, he really did resemble a baby pig, just as the books described. His greatest charm was his extremely bright smile.
I’ve found myself a piggy bank, Cale thought.
“I’ll be on the third floor all day,” he told Bilose, leisurely placing a gold coin on the counter.
Bilose beamed even brighter, but Cale pretended not to notice.
“Any tea that isn’t sour will do,” the redhead said, then pointed to the bookshelf. “Do you have any novels?” He preferred those to poetry.
Clank! The sound of someone forcefully setting down their teacup rang through the shop. Wondering who’d done it, Cale looked back at Bilose.
“Of course, Lord Cale. We have plenty.”
“Really? Send up the most interesting one, along with a cup of tea.”
“Certainly.”
Cale put his gold coin into Bilose’s chubby hand, turning away as the shopkeeper counted out the change. “Just hold on to it. I’ll drink more tea later.”
“This is still far too much!”
A gold coin was worth a million galleons, equivalent to one million Korean won.
“I have lots of money. Consider it your tip,” Cale said—something he’d always wanted to try.
He was splurging, squandering his wealth. Who cared whether Bilose was actually richer than he was? The lout would have many opportunities to earn a fortune.
Doing his best to play it cool, Cale jerked his chin toward the tables on the first floor. “Well, if it’s too much, treat everyone here to a cup of tea on me.”
It was an announcement worthy of ringing the bell—this round was on Cale. He’d wanted to do something like that at least once in his life. The count had generously provided him three gold coins to spend, the equivalent of three million galleons.
“Still, Lord Cale—”
“Agh, enough! Just bring my tea!”
Cale, ever the shamelessly rude customer, headed up to the third floor. It really was good to be a lout. He could pay no mind to manners or the whispers buzzing behind him. There were already plenty of rumors about the count’s off-putting son; a few more wouldn’t matter.
Nobody else was on the third floor, since it was still early morning, so Cale had it all to himself. “Just like I thought,” he murmured, sitting in the far corner.
He looked out the window. This is the perfect seat. It had the best view of Weston’s main gate. Cale’s plan was to watch for Choi Han from this spot. After burying the beloved townspeople of Harris, Choi Han would head to Weston, going off his memories of the townsfolk’s general directions.
When he arrives at the gate in the early morning, he’s immediately chased away.
Choi Han had been transported to the Dark Forest as a high school freshman, and he lived there for decades. He’d spent most of that time trying to survive, which forced him to grow quickly—if a little distorted. Yet after the tragic incident in Harris, he was acting more rationally than anyone could have expected.
He’s coming to the count’s estate to report the town’s annihilation.
Harris may have been remote, but it was under Count Henituse’s jurisdiction. Thus, Choi Han set out for Weston, hoping the count would support a small funeral for the townsfolk. He also planned to track down information on assassins he’d killed. Mad with grief at the scene of the crime, he hadn’t even thought to interrogate the culprits before slaughtering them all. But now, sending off the dead with a service would come before his revenge.
When you think about it, he really is a caring guy.
It was understandable that Choi Han’s heart had hardened for a time. In one fell swoop, he’d lost all the people who first showed him love after his decades alone in the Dark Forest. This was roughly when Cale bothered Choi Han and touched a nerve.
He remembered what the book’s version of Cale said to Choi Han: “Why should we care whether some useless townsfolk are dead? The drink in my hand is worth far more than all their lives combined.”
Choi Han had grinned at that. “Interesting. I wonder if you’ll change your mind.” Then he thought to himself, Shall I test it out?
The “test” was beating Cale nearly to death. The amazing thing was, Cale never changed his mind, even after he was black and blue.
“Ugh. Remembering that gives me the creeps.”
Cale rubbed his arms as they tingled with goosebumps. He slurped down some of the tea Bilose had brought, but the instant he looked back out the window, chills rippled through him all over again.
It’s that punk.
As Weston’s gates opened for the morning, a young man wearing scorched clothes approached them. It was Choi Han.
Cale didn’t get up from his seat right away. Instead, he merely observed. The main character had run like a lunatic, making a journey in a single day that would’ve taken a week by carriage. Between that and the events in Harris, he was looking quite disheveled.
When Choi Han walked through the gate, clearly exhausted with his head hung low, the guards blocked his path. Cale couldn’t hear what they asked him, but he saw Choi Han shake his head in response.
I’m sure they’re asking whether he has any identification.
Weston’s guards were generally easygoing, but they didn’t budge on the law. They emulated their liege, Count Deruth, in that way. As Cale expected, Choi Han walked back through the gate.
“They kicked him out,” Cale muttered.
Choi Han had gone without a fuss. After running nonstop for a day, he must’ve regained a bit of his conscience. Right about now, it would be telling him not to kill innocent men.
He’ll wait till nightfall before jumping the city wall. At which point, the hero would run into an inebriated Cale.
Screech! The sound of Cale’s chair scraping the floor as he stood echoed loudly in the empty space.
He went downstairs and spoke to Bilose at the counter.
“I’ll be out for a bit, but I’ll come back soon,” Cale said. “Don’t clear my spot.”
“Of course not, Lord Cale. I look forward to your return.”
Ignoring the bright smile on Bilose’s chubby face, Cale strode out the door. Shortly thereafter, he heard someone cry from inside the shop, “He didn’t break anything!”
Cale shrugged it off; he had bigger fish to fry. Today, he needed to lay the groundwork to earn the Unbreakable Shield. Despite its name, the Unbreakable Shield wasn’t a physical item. The best comparison might be a mage’s mana shield. Only, it differed from a mana shield in that it was more like a superpower than a magical ability. The woman who’d created the Unbreakable Shield had been an acolyte in service of a god, but the temple had mysteriously excommunicated her. She had died shortly after.
Something weird definitely got tangled up with that shield.
As with any fantasy world, this world had its own history dating back to ancient times. Magic and weaponry hadn’t been particularly developed back then. Rather, innate talents produced by supernatural occurrences predominated in society. The strongest were superpowers and divine powers, which were essentially forces of nature. Although those powers originated during a very primitive time, some had made it into the present, hidden in specific locations and items. It was possible to obtain those powers for yourself under the right conditions.
Usually, heroes found these “Ancient Powers,” but some of them were too weak for said heroes to rely on. Those were the powers Cale aimed to obtain.
Excluding divine powers, of course.
Cale didn’t want to get involved with angels, demons, or gods. Thus, he sought powers that other people had created or that came from nature.
That way, I won’t need to put much effort into it.
Those types of powers lined up perfectly with his goals, whereas things like swordplay and magic would require loads of practice. He didn’t want to do anything like that.
The ancient civilization depicted in Birth of a Hero wasn’t as strong as those in other fantasy series. As civilization developed, spiritual arts and magic began to far outshine the natural powers the ancient civilization had left behind. They were stronger than superpowers too. A single hit from a present-day warrior’s aura would blow away most lesser superpowers. That was the reason heroes didn’t use these powers much.
And my goal is to collect these lesser superpowers to become decently strong.