Fina's eyes sparkled like polished amethysts.
"They're a destined person… So the request I'm on is to meet the 'black-haired hero.' Private client, makes sense if they're someone important."
"…From my position, I couldn't risk being known."
She bowed, silky hair brushing the cushions.
"I'm sorry."
I waved it off.
"No need to apologize. If *he's* there, we're safer than a dragon in its lair."
"—! …You noticed?"
Her smile turned sly.
I tilted my chin toward the driver's seat.
A tall woman perched there, upper face hidden behind a sleek iron mask.
Power rolled off her like heat from a forge.
"She's no ordinary coachman. A-rank minimum. Maybe S. We don't need escorts if she's on duty."
Fina's gaze sharpened, then softened with a sigh.
"I don't want her fighting unless it's life-or-death. One flash of her blade, and both sword and master are identified. The Imozuru Ceremony would drag her and me into the light."
She toyed with the Phantom Ring.
"That's why I hired adventurers. Was I wrong?"
"D-rank here," I said, tapping my chest.
"Just good at reading people."
She studied me, head tilted.
"Yet you saw through her in a glance."
The coachman, a masked escort, remained statue-still.
Wind tugged at her cloak; not a muscle twitched.
"Yes, she's my shadow."
Fina's voice dropped.
"My apologies for doubting you."
I shrugged.
"More importantly… tell me about this 'destined person.' Black hair's rare. I'm curious."
*I wasn't curious. Not really.*
I just wanted to stretch this plush ride as long as possible.
The other wagons were cramped, sweaty, and smelled like unwashed armor.
Fina's face lit up like sunrise.
"You want to hear? It's a precious memory… but since you share the hair!"
She scooted forward until our knees nearly touched.
Personal space? She's probably never heard of it.
"It started when I was six—"
~
Three hours later, my spine had fused to the cushions.
My brain chanted a single mantra: *This is taking too long.*
At hour one, I nodded politely.
Hour two, I slumped like a sack of potatoes.
Hour three, I became a nodding doll: *Uh-huh. Wow. Cool.*
Fina never paused for breath.
"—and then he flicked his wrist, and the ice spear *shattered* the ogre's club like glass! His cloak billowed like raven wings, and his voice, oh, his voice was like thunder wrapped in velvet—"
I tried to escape during a water break.
"Then I'll just—"
"You can stay! It's comfier here!"
She beamed, blocking the door with pure enthusiasm.
Now the caravan had stopped for camp.
Lanterns flickered outside; the scent of woodsmoke drifted in.
Other adventurers sprawled on bedrolls, laughing over ale.
I was trapped in a gilded cage with a hyperactive storyteller.
"—so that's why I *know* the black-haired hero is him!"
Fina clasped her hands, cheeks pink.
"He promised to become a hero. And now he probably has!"
Summary:
- Age six.
- Ambushed caravan.
- Masked black-haired boy (me, maybe?) saves the day.
- Dramatic vows.
- Future marriage pact.
- Ring gift.
- Endless gushing.
I rubbed my temples.
"But… you don't know his face. How will you recognize him?"
"That's easy!"
She flushed scarlet.
"He has a *scar mark*, a special one. I can't say where; it's embarrassing!"
My body was a roadmap of scars, training, monsters, dumb accidents.
Nonvisible under clothes.
Small mercies.
"Fina-sama," the masked escort called through the curtain.
"We camp here tonight. Dinner?"
"Eh?! Already evening?"
Fina clapped a hand over her mouth.
"I talked too much…"
"Saved!"
I lunged for the door.
"I'll just—"
"Wait!"
She caught my sleeve, eyes wide and pleading.
"Thank you for listening. Stay for dinner? I haven't finished…"
"No, no, I'll pass—"
"I was going to serve *Armored Running Bird* steak…"
Her voice turned singsong.
"And *dragon egg* soup…"
My stomach betrayed me with a thunderous growl.
Armored Running Bird; a tender, juicy, A-rank delicacy.
Dragon egg soup, silky, rich, once-in-a-lifetime.
I swallowed.
"…I guess I can stay a *little* longer."
Fina beamed like I'd proposed marriage.
Outside, the masked escort's shoulders shook, silent laughter, maybe.
The caravan settled under starlight.
Somewhere, a fire crackled, and the scent of luxury meat drifted on the wind.
I was doomed to another hour of hero worship.
But the food…
Yeah. Worth it.