982 Roderick
Whisker couldn’t agree with Seika’s optimistic outlook, having witnessed the selfishness of powerful individuals. Heroism, in their opinion, had perished in this era, with few willing to risk their lives for others unless compelled. As they sat in the inn, the owner approached, serving them fish sandwiches. Whisker glared, suspecting the owner had somehow discovered their fondness for this particular dish.
“Is this your special ability?” Whisker questioned, pulling the platter closer. “I never mentioned my preference, yet you managed to discern it. It can’t be a mere coincidence.”
“I possess a unique skill that enables me to understand how best to nourish each person,” the owner explained, wiping his hands clean. “It’s the secret to my success in this business. Of course, Vesper made it impossible to feed anyone.”
“By revealing your identity like this, Seika,” Whisker warned, taking a bite of the fish sandwich, “you’re exposing yourself. Nevertheless, I agree that this inn could serve as a prime location for our operations. It’s popular among challengers and spacious enough to be converted into an adventurers’ guild.”
“What?” the owner questioned, shaking his head before realizing how Whisker had referred to Seika. His eyes widened, staring at Arthur with disbelief. “Your name is… is it… Seika? Are you the one who…?”
“This is the man who defeated Vesper,” Whisker confirmed, savoring the fish sandwich with a satisfied smile. “I support his plan. Instead of paying chefs to cook and distribute ingredients, it’s better to establish an inn like this as the central hub of Sith Town.”
“You… Seika…” the owner muttered, his face glistening with sweat as he recollected his earlier reprimand of Arthur. “Regarding earlier… I was just…”
“Relax, old man. I’m not as unreasonable as Vesper. Teasing won’t offend me,” Arthur reassured, flashing a warm smile. “So, what do you say about our offer? I’ve been here for two days, enough time to gauge your character and entrust the fate of Sith Town to you.”
“We also spoke to the townspeople about their impressions of you. Despite your propensity for teasing, they appreciate your generosity in providing them food, even when you had very little for yourself,” Whisker added. “We consider you a suitable candidate for this proposal.”
“…I can’t handle that workload,” the owner replied, shaking his head. “Preparing food for the entire town would break my back.”
Once your business gains momentum, you can hire assistants,” Arthur suggested. “However, this offer comes with certain conditions. We need to recruit men to defend the city, and we want you to help us convince the people.”
“You want to turn my inn into a hub for challengers?” the owner questioned, rubbing his chin. “I don’t dislike the idea, but… it sounds too good to be true. What’s in it for you?”
“We’re not seeking profit or personal gain, old man,” Arthur proclaimed, his golden eyes gleaming in the morning light. “We want Sith Town to become a welcoming place for every challenger, rather than a prison hindering their growth.”
“And will you be its ruler?”
“No one will rule it. That’s the spiritual contract we propose,” Arthur explained, raising a finger tinged with
spiritual energy. “We want Sith Town to remain leaderless. All decisions will be made in this inn through voting by its top members. If a warlord ever attempts to seize Sith Town, the inn’s members will stand against them.”
“…I agree to that,” the owner declared, newfound confidence emanating from him as he extended his hand for a handshake. “I always felt powerless when it came to providing people with their deepest desires. Often, it broke my heart to lack even the basic ingredients.”
“We have a deal,” Arthur affirmed, his radiant golden spiritual energy enveloping his arm. “This will be a binding spiritual contract between us. In exchange for what we’ve agreed upon, we’ll grant you control of the farms. Breaking this contract will result in the annihilation of one’s soul.”
“I accept the contract,” the owner, now named Roderick, said as they shook hands, the spiritual energy weaving around their arms. It penetrated their souls, forging another bond within them. “My name is Roderick.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Roderick. Call me Seika. Although I may not be a towering giant exuding an intimidating aura, I’ll prove more valuable than anyone when the time comes,” Arthur declared with a smile. Roderick nodded, and the two released their grasp, leaving the inn.
For a while, Roderick sat on a stool, still dazed from the encounter, staring at his hand. The lingering sensation of Arthur’s spiritual energy overwhelmed him. He had never experienced something so profound and awe-inspiring.
“A spiritual energy that can materialize so effortlessly?” Roderick mumbled, laughing and shaking his head. “I can’t comprehend this man. If he vanquished Vesper, why did he choose to stay in my inn instead of the stronghold?”
That question would remain a mystery. Although the stronghold appeared occupied, no one dared to knock on its doors. Roderick contemplated utilizing Arthur’s presence in his inn for marketing purposes, but he deemed it wiser not to further antagonize him.
***
“That man might expose your true identity, jeopardizing your aspirations for a peaceful life,” Whisker earnestly cautioned Arthur as they leisurely strolled through the bustling streets of Sith Town. “People will inevitably begin to follow you, and before you know it, you’ll find yourself leading an army akin to the formidable force we once combated.”
“Sarohan made it clear that he would be my sole follower, which is precisely why I agreed to his proposition. If he were to bring his entire clan, I would hardly find a moment’s respite,” Arthur casually replied, his hands nonchalantly resting behind his head. His infectious smile never wavered.
Observing Arthur’s improved demeanor, Whisker couldn’t help but express his curiosity. “You appear to be in a far better mood than before. Pray tell, what has brought about this change?”
With an impish grin, Seika happily disclosed, “I had the delightful opportunity to savor my all-time favorite dish. It had been an eternity since I last indulged in its exquisite taste. Chicken breasts and succulent turkey meat were but unaffordable luxuries, but today, I relished in them to my heart’s content.”
Whisker let out a sigh, shaking his head in bemusement. “You truly are a peculiar individual, Seika. Most individuals of great power and influence find their happiness in wealth, adulation, or romantic conquests. And yet, you derive immense joy from a simple sandwich.”
“Ah, my dear friend,” Arthur mused, stepping into the familiar embrace of the orphanage. Laughter filled the air as children joyfully played in the courtyard, weaving their way through a labyrinth constructed from walls of crimson mist. “Perhaps there are certain things that only reveal their true worth once they have been unjustly snatched away.”
From the vantage point of the balcony, Seraphine sat serenely, her gaze fixated on the children below. They fearlessly interacted with her swirling red mist, unbothered by its lethal potential. Each particle possessed the capacity to extinguish a grown man’s life, yet in the hands of these innocent children, it became nothing more than a playful, elongated crimson scarf.
Arthur and Whisker found themselves momentarily stunned by the heartwarming scene unfolding before them. They had never anticipated witnessing such an affectionate bond between orphans and a formidable demon. However, it became evident that the children held an unadulterated adoration for Seraphine, who delighted in their company. Her ethereal mist morphed into various whimsical forms, including a flying carpet that whisked the children away on enchanting adventures.
Growing weary of the monotonous routine, the demon expressed her ennui as she caught sight of Arthur and Whisker entering the orphanage premises. Unbeknownst to her, her mischievous mist continued to entertain the children, operating independently of its mistress.
“We are yet to recruit anyone,” Whisker replied, his expression conflicted as he regarded the demon before him. “You seem to have struck a chord with these children. Have you always been involved in their care?”
A wistful smile tugged at Seraphine’s lips as she reminisced, “I used to revel in playtime with my younger sister. These children, however, prove far simpler to impress than a cunning little demon such as she.”
Intrigued yet wary, Arthur broached the inevitable question. “What became of your sister?” He already anticipated the heart-wrenching answer, causing Seraphine to fall into a prolonged silence before offering a chillingly wicked grin.
“The gods snuffed out her life.”
The weight of her words silenced any possible conversation, leaving the trio standing in solemn contemplation. Eventually, the demon released a resigned sigh, shifting her attention back to the children. With a wave of her hand, the mist dissipated into the ether, leaving the children momentarily bewildered. Seraphine beckoned Arthur and Whisker to follow her into her private quarters.
Seated around a modest table within the solitude of the chamber, Seraphine tapped her fingers impatiently, her eyes aflame with urgency. Both Whisker and Arthur were well aware of the message she wished to convey.
“I have no time for this,” Seraphine exclaimed with a hint of exasperation. “We have squandered two valuable days that could have been spent ascending to the second floor, all for the sake of safeguarding the very individuals who once sought to annihilate me.”
Undeterred, Whisker countered, his voice laced with conviction, “The orphans harbored no ill intentions toward you.” His words elicited a low growl from the demon, ready to retort. However, a distant cry abruptly pierced the air, reverberating throughout the orphanage. The trio exchanged concerned glances before hastily abandoning their seats, dashing outside to investigate the source of the distress.