As I listened to the two of them talk, I became convinced. I didn't know where I'd seen the clue, but the old man suspected me. Fortunately, he didn't seem to be in the certainty phase, judging by the way he was trying to probe me with some nonexistent magic tool.
I'm sure... there's no such magic tool as that.
Freeing myself from my anxiety, I thoroughly analyzed the evidence. A magical tool for distinguishing evil spirits? Nothing like it had existed for thousands of years. However, as civilization continued to develop, it wouldn't be surprising if something like this appeared someday.
Even so, it's ridiculous that the first producer was this old man.
Altemion School was an orthodox school for mages. Instead of minor subjects like dimensions and souls, they primarily researched things like creating new spells. Why would such a mage create a reader of evil spirits?
If something like that really existed, it would have done anything to deceive me. Not probe me like that.
Soon, I made my final judgment. There was no spirit reader. The old man just wanted to see my reaction.
«So what are you going to do?», he asked. «It is not dangerous, and it will not take long.»
«...Won't it take a long time?»
«It will take about five minutes».
«In that case, well...» I accepted the old man's offer as if he was a little uncomfortable, but I had no complaints as long as it was over quickly. But I guess my decision was unexpected.
«...Is that really okay with you?» The old man responded with a question. That reaction erased even the anxiety I had left.
I asked calmly: «What do you mean? According to what?»
«...Didn't you be worried that it might be dangerous?».
«If so, he said he would check it out!».
«It's true, but...»
«Let's go. I'm tired of getting up early. I want to go home and sleep!»
Who the hell did this old man think he was messing with?
***
«He's gone...»
Bjorn had left the laboratory. Raven let out a big sigh at her teacher's murmur, which sounded somewhat disappointed. She didn't understand the current situation. A magical tool to differentiate evil spirits? He had never heard of his Master investigating something like this.
«What was that?» Raven asked.
«…»
«Don't just sit there. Are you really not going to tell me?»
Under the direction of his master, he had to prove to Bjorn that this magical tool was safe. It wasn't difficult, because the magical tool his master called an evil spirit reader was not imbued with spells. It was just a strange looking chair.
«Don't say anything, let yourself go», he had ordered. She remained silent about these events following her teacher's words. So it was time to hear the truth.
Of course, she had her assumptions. I wasn't that stupid. «...Did you really believe that Mr. Yandel was an evil spirit? Is that why you questioned me about what happened in the maze?».
His teacher neither affirmed nor denied it, but sometimes silence was the surest response.
«Ha... So, has your suspicion been resolved yet?».
«...Yes, I was wrong».
«It's not that I don't understand where you're coming from, teacher. He is a strange man, after all. But I have a question. I would very much like you to answer it for me».
His teacher asked weakly: «... What is it?».
«Why did you do that? If you suspected it was an evil spirit, you could have let the Ministry of Security take care of it...»
«If I do that, he will die», he murmured quietly.
«Excuse me? What m.?.?»
«I'm tired. Now I'll leave you, so please clean this up». Soon, his master lifted his old body and, unlike usual, left with a wrinkled step.
Raven was now alone in her laboratory. He reflected on his teacher's words.
Will die?
In other words, could it also mean that he needed a living evil spirit?
What does the Master want?
She couldn't get rid of the feeling of restlessness.
***
¡Flop!
Upon returning home, I immediately collapsed into bed. For some reason, I felt like I had spent all my energy this morning. I wanted to rest, but I took some time to relax and reflect on what had happened today.
That really came out of nowhere.
I don't think I made any mistakes. Looking back, it wasn't a bad move on my part. Assuming the worst, and thanks to the clues given, I avoided jumping to conclusions. Thanks to that, I was able to deduce the best answer I could at that moment.
Seeing his face at the end, it seems that even the old man has completely cleared up his doubts.
It was an unexpected incident, but it was resolved well. However, there was something that was not very clear. When he became convinced that I was not an evil spirit, the old man seemed somewhat disappointed. Because?
...Well, that's none of my business.
After thinking about it for a while, I cleared my thoughts. It was a question that could not be answered, and I judged that whatever the reason, it had no direct relation to my safety.
Still, I feel a little relieved.
What a shitty show first thing in the morning. But, paradoxically, this incident gave me a strange feeling of relief. With this, the pile of luck that had been piling up to the ceiling these days must have made up for itself a bit.
«Bjorrrn! Wake up! It's already daylight, how much more are you going to sleep?!»
Did I fall asleep at any point? When I opened my eyes, Missha was shaking my body. I didn't sleep with the door open, so he must have come in with the spare key I gave him.
I gave it to him to use in case something happened...
«Missha, why are you here? I told you I was going to the magic tower today».
«Last night you came home late. I was going to wake you up if you fell asleep!»
Well, in that case. I would have to think about taking off the spare key another time. «Ah, but how did you know I was late yesterday? Don't tell me you were waiting for me».
«You promised to tell me everything when you got back. Also, I didn't wait long, so don't worry». He may have said that, but it was clear that he had waited late for me. Were you so curious to know what had happened at the banquet? «So, tell me. What happened?»
At Missha's urging, I slowly told her what had happened yesterday: carrying the barbaric equipment prepared by the butler, leading the procession of carts to the banquet, the food I ate there, and even winning a tournament by chance.
«Hey, did you really win? Against all those gentlemen?»
«Not knights, but knight apprentices».
«Still, they are gentlemen! That's awesome!»
The truth is, no. Except for the guy I met in the finals, the rest would have easily been defeated by Missha. His hand-to-hand combat was no joke.
«It doesn't matter that. Write this».
Anyway, after briefly explaining what had happened, I started writing letters with Missha. They were answers to send to the nobles. I wrote many in the morning, but when I woke up, the letters had piled up again.
«...Bjorn, is it really okay to send them like this? They are noble. This could cause problems later.»
«Alright.»
«Well, if you say so...» Even with an anxious look, Missha wrote what I read aloud.
I tell you there is nothing to worry about. What more could you ask for in a letter from a barbarian?
Being able to get an answer was a miracle in the first place.
I can not go. I'm busy. Then find yourself another barbarian. From: Bjorn, son of Yandel
Yes, this was pretty fancy.
***
An aristocrat's house, a bright, spacious place where you could breathe delicious smells from here and there, was like being in a different world, from people's clothes to the way they spoke and the sound of music.
«I finally understand the chief's words! The world is really big!»
All we had were some drums...
«What are you doing?! Come this way.»
«Okay!» A barbarian who became an adult a month ago, Dukat, Karpen's son, followed the customer to the center of the banquet.
«Tsk, what is that walk? Walk with more confidence!»
It was a bit unfair. He didn't seem to know what it meant to walk confidently, and the equipment he was wearing was unnecessarily large and uncomfortable.
I'm more comfortable naked...
Although he wanted to express his discontent, Dukat remained silent because it reminded him of the past.
«That man was wearing an even bigger one without problems».
A few days ago, after following a man who promised to pay him a large sum of money, Dukat received several lessons, especially about how to behave at a banquet. At first he got angry.
Do they demand so much of me because I'm a barbarian?
He wondered if they were looking over his shoulder at him.
«Who is that man? Who is that who keeps telling me to do strange things?».
«I'm talking about Little Balkan, Bjorn, son of Yandel».
After learning his identity, Dukat had no choice but to endure all the demands. Bjorn, son of Yandel: a warrior among warriors who defeated all the knights at the nobles' banquet and even acquired the wonderful title of Crusher Knight.
Am I not good enough to be like him?
After hearing his anecdote, Dukat swore to show a great performance at this banquet. There could be nothing wrong with the performance of the warrior whom the chief had highly praised.
If there's anything wrong, it will be me.
He decided to act like a warrior, but it wasn't as easy as he thought. Being among elegant and noble aristocrats who seemed so different from him, he couldn't help but feel small.
«It's delicious...!»
«Higher! That man wasn't that shy!»
«B-Behell-ahhhh...»
It was embarrassing, to be honest. He may have been a barbarian, but why would anyone shout in front of people just because the food tasted good? Well, if I was alone I would have screamed several times.
«Don't just eat the meat, chew the bones too!».
Now his teeth hurt.
«Do you want a handkerchief? What do you need it for?»
The hand holding the food was sticky.
«Ugh, why are you taking off your helmet again?»
His neck ached and his shoulders felt heavy. Yet, he would soon have to enter a fight against only barbarians. Would he be able to fight properly? His worry made him feel pathetic. Unlike that man, his opponent wasn't even a knight.
They say that following a goblin troll will get your head crushed…
After his coming-of-age ceremony, Dukat entered the city with the aspiration in his heart of one day becoming a famous warrior. However, the harsh realities of life proved otherwise. In less than a month, he was confronted with his shortcomings.
"Why can't you do it?"
Dukat finally uttered the words he had been holding back. "I am... an ordinary warrior."
Shout whenever you want, break whatever you want, behave as you please regardless of who is by your side, that was for the truly powerful, a right granted only to true warriors with self-confidence.
"I can't do that... Please don't compare him to me anymore. Bjorn, Yandel's son, is a great warrior who can't be compared to someone like me."
"Hmm, I suppose he was a special case..."
Upon hearing Dukat's confession, the nobles sighed and gazed into space with longing eyes. No, perhaps it wasn't just that person.
"I see. It has to be him..."
"Well, how can such a savage barbarian be considered common?"
"I thought all barbarians were like him."
"They're more normal than I thought."
Listening intently, words similar to these were emerging throughout the banquet hall.
***
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