Chapter 164 - A place to come back to (1)

The morning was filled only with the singing of birds.

The employees were busy moving around the inn, which had fallen silent perhaps because the regular customers had been expelled.

"Smells good. Marcella."

"Are you awake already?"

With natural steps, Vlad sat at the small bar that only employees could use.

It used to be used by Jorge and other gang members, and now it was mainly used by Vlad and Harven, and the fragrant smell of soup filled the air.

"What about Harven?"

"He left early in the morning. I suppose he's guiding the dwarves."

"Really?"

Harven seemed ready for a ride on the dwarves' boat.

Even if it wasn't for that purpose, making friends with the dwarves wasn't a bad thing at all, so Vlad decided to do so and picked up the plate of soup in front of him.

"I'm going to eat well. Marcella."

"But wasn't this made by Zemina?"

"…"

Vlad simply raised his spoon silently as he looked at Marcella, who smiled mischievously at him.

A busy red-haired girl moving around in a small bar.

Vlad barely had an appetite as he watched Zemina, who turned away as if avoiding eye contact with him.

"How long are you going to be upset? After all, I didn't even give it."

"…What?"

Zemina's lips, which seemed to be pouting, could barely articulate a response, as if she couldn't say no.

"The dwarves said directly that they would do it in the old man's smithy. I even tried to divert their attention to another smithy."

"…"

I know it's something that can't be helped, but that doesn't mean it's not annoying.

Although she had many memories with Vlad since childhood, the memory she cherished most was related to the old sword.

Vlad wasn't the only one who took pride in his sword.

"It's good that the dwarves are using it in the first place. Just like Rose's smile is drawing attention now…"

"Oh, I don't know. I suppose I'll go with Noir, who is obedient."

If it's going to be thrown away anyway, it would be good if anyone could use it.

Moreover, since it was being used by dwarves called craftsmen, it could be said to be an honor, but Zemina's internal feelings were still complicated.

"Why is that?"

Vlad was frowning as he watched Zemina run downstairs as if to avoid him, but the one who actually felt queasy was probably Marcella, who was watching them.

"In the past, we would have put both of you in a room."

"Yes?"

"It's nothing. The soup is getting cold. Hurry up and eat."

Marcella simply smiled, regretting having to come and go over something that would have been resolved in the past with a single blow.

"Anyway, where are you going today? It seems like you, Vlad, are the busiest in Soara these days."

"I plan to stop by the smithy first and then go to the church. I have a favor to ask Bishop Andreas."

"You're exchanging favors with the bishop? You've grown a lot, Vlad."

Marcella gently stroked Vlad's head as he ate soup.

It's inevitable that we both feel sorry for each other.

As you can see now, Vlad had a lot of work to focus on, and Zemina must have endured a lot while watching Vlad in that way.

"But how much did you pay?"

"What?"

"It's a donation. I gave it to the convent."

Marcella's eyes widened in surprise as she looked at Vlad's hand, expecting another bowl.

"I heard that the convent didn't even open the door at that time."

"…"

Vlad always had a light breakfast, but today he extended his plate as if he had a lot of work to do.

"I later found out that the children there were only fed one meal a day."

"…Yes. They said it was like that."

Just as Zemina has unforgettable memories, Vlad also has unforgettable memories.

The day I went to the convent for the first time, the red-haired girl I met with a swollen heart was so thin that it made me angry.

"So, are you going to the convent today?"

"That stupid girl doesn't know anything."

After making a fuss with Marcella for no reason, Vlad looked at the soup-filled plate again and picked up the spoon.

Even from Vlad's point of view, it was unfair because he thought of her that way and all he got in return was sulking.

"Well. Do well today."

They were a little out of sync, but in the end, Marcella stopped laughing when she saw them facing each other.

As expected, it was good to have left my work.

This kind of scene would have been something that couldn't be seen in Rose's dirty smile.

Watching Vlad eat soup for a while, Marcella smoothed his hair again as if he had done well.

***

The shadows under his eyes sank as deeply as the height of the stacked documents.

The elder watching Joseph didn't hide his concerned gaze.

It hadn't been long since he heard the news of his collapse, but with this killer workload, it was inevitable to worry.

"You seem quite busy lately."

Joseph smiled, as if trying to put up a front in front of the elder, but in reality, it only highlighted the depth of the shadows under his eyes.

Despite how mature Joseph might be, he still seemed vulnerable like a child in the elder's eyes.

"No matter how busy you are, you must take care of your health, young master."

"Even so, meeting Lord Ramund after so long makes me feel renewed."

A person who can refer to Joseph, descendant of the noble Bayezid and mayor of Soara, with the word master.

Ramund, a retired knight of Bayezid, saw Joseph with his thin cheeks and looked at Jager resentfully.

"Anyway, what brings you here? Is there something urgent?"

"I didn't come here because there was anything particularly urgent about me."

Ramund, who had truly achieved a perfect retirement, as he had fulfilled even the duties of the lowest man, had returned to his mansion near Varna and devoted himself to his hobbies.

Ramund, living the retired life every knight dreamed of, was, as Joseph put it, a man who wouldn't bother coming to Soara unless there was something special to do.

"Are you here for Vlad?"

"Of course. Indeed, there is a reason I came to see him."

Ramund, upon hearing Vlad's name, began to smile happily.

For Ramund, the nearest city was Varna, but the city he received was Soara, and it was an undeniable fact that one of the reasons was Vlad.

"I plan to check on him while I'm here, but I didn't come because of him."

However, Vlad was not the only reason Ramund came to Soara.

"Would you like to see this?"

Ramund left a paper with those words.

The paper was dirty here and there, as if it had rolled on the floor, but the letters written on it were preserved and clearly identifiable.

"…It's the emblem of the Vatican."

"Yes."

However, Joseph's eyes caught the pattern stamped underneath instead of the words written on the paper.

The emblem of the church is similar to that of the Northern Orthodox Church, but it has a completely different shape.

Traces of the Holy See that the Northern Alliance had expelled were now before Joseph's eyes.

"It is said that nowadays this kind of newspaper is spreading from villages and small communities. Of course, it didn't matter because the employees of our mansion were illiterate..."

The traces of the Holy See extended from the outskirts, skillfully avoiding the gaze of those in power.

It wouldn't have had much effect among common and illiterate farmers, but if someone had recognized it, the rumor that started in writing would spread everywhere by word of mouth.

The pattern engraved at the bottom of the paper was one even those illiterates could recognize.

"...People of the North, listen. God was angry at the rise of false paganism."

Joseph read aloud the paper Ramund brought.

However, it might not be Joseph's fault that he stuttered and couldn't read it all at once.

The handwriting, which is embarrassing even to call bad, was so messy that it would be better to say it was drawn rather than written.

It's as if it was written by someone who doesn't know how to write.

"Faith in false idols is an act that greatly dishonors the One. We already see in our eyes that evil is coming upon you..."

However, the content it contained was safe.

It was superficial wording, but the intent was clearly visible.

Anyone could see that it was a piece of paper with the intent to incite, but Joseph couldn't help but feel strangely uncomfortable with this piece of paper.

"...A plague will come. Before the year ends."

The beginning was a warning, but the end was a curse.

A deep silence began to fill the office at the last sentence, saying woe to those who follow false words.

"...It's quite specific. The time and events were specified precisely."

"That's right. 'There's something strange about this was created just to scare people."

If it were simply used to scare people, it would have been more correct to express it in a general way.

However, the problem is that the text of the document is too specific to match the intent.

"...If these words stray, it will have the opposite effect."

Joseph silently looked at the crumpled paper.

Roughly written but safe text.

This kind of agitation was worse than doing nothing, but Joseph knew well that the Vatican was not an easy place.

Those words, which seemed closer to prophecy, still weighed in a corner of Joseph's heart.

***

A street in an alley where you can now even feel the cold energy.

This street is not as noisy as Rose's Smile, nor is it crowded, but there are only a few old, dilapidated buildings.

However, warmth began to spread slowly, as if a bonfire had been lit at the end of the cold street.

The warmth emanated from an ancient blacksmith shop that had long been closed.

Kawaang! Clang!

The rhythm was different, but the sound was similar.

The sound of hammers coming from the blacksmith shop, along with the warm orange light, began to travel through the dark alleys as before.

"...I don't understand."

Sigurd, who had stopped hammering for a while, looked at an iron ingot that still radiated heat and ended up scratching his head.

"Is this what's going to happen here?"

The dwarves around him shook their heads at the same time he murmured to himself.

The reason the dwarves were puzzled was because it could be said that the iron ingot, which softly reflected the surrounding light, was of high quality.

Even if you looked at it through the eyes of dwarves, who are blacksmiths from birth.

"No matter how I look at it, this is unacceptable."

"We should never take this."

"With the equipment here, you can probably only repair a kitchen knife at most."

Sigurd and the dwarves, who had been thinking for a while, simultaneously looked at the old blast furnace inside the blacksmith shop.

----?

A young lizard embarrassed when so many eyes are looking at him.

However, contrary to his innocent expression, this guy was now swimming in molten iron, glowing red hot.

With an expression that says this is enough to warm you up.

"I heard there was something called brasa, but this is the first time I've seen it."

"None of these will be the first. Captain."

"That's right, I've only heard stories."

Because it collapsed so miserably, the dwarves' small tradition remains, as Sigurd said, and only remains as a story.

Even at this very moment, the potential of the dwarves was slowly fading as the pride they had to cherish and the pride they had to protect were fading away.

"...I have to take it somehow."

But now that everything has collapsed, there is a brasa swimming in front of Sigurd and his group that supposedly heated the glorious blast furnace in the past.

A young spirit who came here riding on the sword of a knight named Vlad.

The two worlds that we had just met and that had met for the first time in so long had been looking at each other for a long time.

"Uh huh?"

"No, not that!"

But maybe it's been a long time since we last saw each other.

Because they had forgotten how to communicate between them, the young lizard looked at the anxious looks in the eyes of the dwarves and made a guess.

Do you think we need this again?

"No! Don't spit now!"

Ughhh-

Sigurd, guessing what was going on, quickly pulled his hand away, but the young lizard was too excited.

A world that expands across borders.

For the young brasas, the world of the dwarves was like a perfect fit piece.

"Bring sand, not water! Sand!"

"It's all here! No!"

"Argh! Stop spitting!"

The cries of the dwarves erupted along with the high-purity molten iron.

Vlad, who had just arrived, made a surprised noise when he saw the dwarves running out the door because they couldn't bear the intense heat.

"Eh?"

That was the scene Vlad saw as he passed by the blacksmith shop to pick up the armor he had brought in for repairs.

A young lizard breathing fire with excitement and an old blacksmith shop ablaze.

And the dwarves shouting.

However, even in the blacksmith shop where the heat grew beyond heat, the young lizard wagged his tail as if he were happy to see Vlad.

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