Chapter 41 (1/2)
Translator: Wawaa
Editor: WilsonWilson
It was weird.
Usually, at this time, he would be taking a long nap alone in his room.
Just in case he was only sleeping too deeply, Lara raised her hand and knocked on the door.
Knock knock.
He did not answer. She could not even feel any sign of people inside.
She knocked louder, but it did not work. It seemed that he went outside. But for all she knew, let alone friends, he did not even have anyone that he knew in Hautean.
Where did he go?
When will he come back? If I just wait in the arena, I can eventually meet him, right?
Lara hid her disappointment and went back to where her friends were waiting.
Unaware that Lara had come to the arena to find him, Demian was at an inn on the outskirts of the capital of Hautean. Hautean was a small country, so it did not take long to get to the outskirts of the capital. Even if he went back after finishing his business, he would be able to arrive at the arena by dawn.
Creak.
The old door opened and let out a precarious sound.
Demian gave a glance at the dangling hinges, then came inside and sat down at the bar.
“Goodman.”
The innkeeper was sitting on the floor peeling potatoes at a breakneck pace.
His skill of thinly peeling the skins while slowly turning the potatoes with a small pocket knife was unusual.
“It’s been a while.”
The innkeeper noticed who Demian was without even looking at his face. A mischievous smile spread across his bearded face.
“You have become so famous nowadays. As far as I’m concerned, your work is not to make a name for yourself.”
“That’s none of your concern.”
“If you happen to become a Marquess while doing your work, set up a store for me in the main street so that I can eat and live well.”
“That won’t happen.”
The innkeeper knew everything about the situation in the capital.
He stood up with a grin and roughly rubbed his muddy hands on his pants.
“Do you know what your owner lady is called among the outsiders these days?”
“Are you talking about Lara?”
“Bailey lottery.”
Demian snorted after listening to the innkeeper.
He knew why she was called like that, but he didn’t even feel it to be worth saying because it was a pathetic reason. Though that was not the case for the innkeeper.
“Your owner lady is someone generous enough to go out with a slave. She’s also a conglomerate heiress and whoever becomes her husband will get a peerage title for free… Wouldn’t anyone desire that?”
“So that’s the reason she’s Bailey lottery?”
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“Well, it’s just a figure of speech.”
Demian no longer smiled.
When he stood up from his seat as a sign to settle their business quickly because he had no time, the innkeeper came out of the bar and guided him to basement storage.
“Don’t talk too long. It tires me as I’m getting older.”
It was ordinary basement storage.
Demian went inside, moved some potato bags as if he was accustomed to it, and lifted an old lamp in the corner.
Then, the innkeeper began to chant a long spell.
There was a faint glow in his palm. It was magical power, mana that was hard to find now. Unlike the black sorcerers Demian was chasing, he was using pure natural mana.
The faintly shining mana soaked through the old lamp.
Then, a light flashed from the lamp. It was like the magical light that was widely used in Hautean or a gasoline lamp.
As the innkeeper chanted a long spell and breathed a heavy sigh, a man’s voice came out of the lamp.
『Finally, I’m hearing from you.』
It was a heavy, manly voice. But the tone and the content were not.
『It’s been a long while, you bastard. Didn’t I ask you to contact me whenever something happened, you bastard?』
“I did.”
『Say what? You’re only making contact after catching two black sorcerers.』
The owner of the voice heard in the lamp seemed very angry.
The innkeeper giggled and murmured that he was such a consistent man, as he thought of the man’s smiling and cursing face.
“Continue your conversation then.”
Then, he closed the storage door and went outside to stand guard.
Demian waited for the door to close completely, then he slowly opened his mouth.
“Acerus.”
Acerus Elin Tarragon—the Crown Prince of Tarragon.
The very person who gave the surname ‘Drake’ to Demian, who used to be a slave, and sent him to Hautean as a spy.
『If you’re going to act as you please, don’t just call me by my name, call me Your Royal Highness Crown Prince properly, you bastard.』
“What a hassle.”
『Why the hell did I try to befriend a bastard like you?』
“That’s none of my business.”
Demian did not give a damn about Acerus’ whining.
Realizing that Demian really could not be bothered with their conversation, Acerus let out a heavy sigh beyond the lamp.
『You’re the savior of my life, Demian.』
“Not again…”
『So I will let it slide 80 more times from now on, and then I will really get mad at you.』
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