Chapter 11

I dragged the former Demon King out of the snow pile and asked,

“So? Things are handled on this side, but what about over there?”

For reference, “over there” meant the rest of the dire wolves still fighting Chunsik.

The strength of that snow-bear Shia had created was incredible—already, nearly half of the eighty wolves lay crushed and scattered across the field…

“Those dire wolves look about ready to run off. Wouldn’t that make all our hard work pointless?”

Shia spat out a mouthful of snow with a sharp ptooey and answered curtly.

“Then we just make sure they can’t run. This lady went as far as being a human cannonball. I’m not letting them get away.”

“How?”

“Like this.”

She clapped her hands once. Chunsik suddenly trembled and dropped to his knees.

The forty or so wolves, already edging backward to retreat, exchanged quick glances. Then, as if they’d agreed, they all lunged at Chunsik together.

Kyaaaak!

Krrrgh!

Grrr! Grrrng!

Krwhwahhh!

Like a frenzy of piranhas tearing into prey, they swarmed Chunsik, ripping into him as if this was their one and only chance.

From a distance, Shia watched calmly, then clapped her hands again.

“Chunsik, self-harm—no, self-destruct.”

And then—

BZZZT! KUUU-KWAAAANG!!

With a thunderous roar, the crouched Chunsik detonated, obliterating the wolves swarming him.

Shards of snow and ice hovered briefly in the air, then settled. Scattered remains of what had once been dozens of wolves littered the frozen ground.

“…You’ve got to be kidding me. Self-destruct?”

Hands on her hips, Shia puffed out her chest with a proud expression.

“Satisfied?”

“…You heartless Demon King. Poor Chunsik…”

I muttered.

At that, she pouted and bent down to pick up a gear fragment from the explosion’s aftermath.

“…Don’t accuse me. He’s not dead. The real body of my summoned beast is right here.”

So, with the ruthless Demon King who treated her loyal underling like fireworks (and attacked my hair every time I teased her about it), I continued my journey southward along the frozen Tigrid River.

The girl, still shaken from that giant swing she’d taken last time, wasn’t letting go of me. Instead of dangling her legs, she clamped onto my neck cross-legged, tightening her grip.

“Hey. I can’t breathe.”

“…I won’t be caught like that again.”

“I told you, I won’t throw you again. And even if I did, it’s not like you’d get hurt—not even a hair.”

“My heart was hurt! My heart!”

“Ah! Ow! Don’t yank my hair! You’ll make me bald! Who’s going to take responsibility if I go bald!?”

Her hands froze mid-pluck, like she’d been pulling weeds out of a field.

“Ah, right. You are human. You’re such an outrageous being that I sometimes forget your species. Tsk, tsk… pitiful creature.”

Her casual words made me catch my breath.

“…Wait. Are you saying other races don’t go bald?”

“They don’t.”

“What!?”

“Baldness is a ‘heavenly punishment’ carried only by humans.”

“Y-you’re serious!?”

“Why would I lie about something like this?”

“Th-this can’t be. What an injustice. What a cursed race. Why would the gods grant us life only to strip away our hair…?”

“That’s why other races sometimes spare bald humans they defeat in battle. They say, ‘Life’s already painful enough. No need to take it further.’”

“…Cruel bastards. Might as well kill them. Hold on. You’re saying only humans go bald? I’m sure I saw a bald female orc in that village.”

“Orcs are half-monsters. They don’t count.”

“…Ah.”

“That’s why some ‘long-lived race supremacists’ argue that bald humans should be classified as monsters, same as wild orcs.”

“…So bald people aren’t even considered human? That’s messed up.”

Time passed. With banter like this, we hurried south along the Tigrid River for five days straight.

“…So this is Sinan Barony of the Salt Kingdom?”

“That it is.”

Before us rose a tall, stretched wall and the lone gate that pierced it, guarded by the barony’s soldiers. Ahead and behind us, hundreds of people waited in line.

“Fifty dana.”

“W-wait, sir knight. Wasn’t it thirty last year?”

“That was last year’s rate. Don’t have money? Turn your cart around. Next.”

“N-no! Please! I’ll pay. Here, here!”

“Too late. Sixty dana.”

“…What?”

“Seventy.”

“H-here! Here it is!”

“…Pass. Next.”

The knight captain, supposedly in charge of the north gate, extorted money right in front of everyone. A beastman merchant adjusted his heavy pack and grumbled.

“Damn this rotten barony. In this backwater, nothing moves unless you stuff gold up their asses.”

A human merchant beside him gave a bitter chuckle. “As if it’s any different elsewhere?”

“At least in other places, they pretend to care what people think. But here? Look at that—shaking down travelers in broad daylight and puffing his chest about it.”

“Careful. Keep your voice down. That man’s a knight. In Sinan, all knights are Steel Body users. If he overhears, you’ll be in deep trouble.”

“Even so… damn it. Seventy dana just to get in? They should be grateful we even come this far north. This place is cold enough to freeze to death.”

“Listen to you, like you’re volunteering. If you’re still making profit even after paying that much, no wonder you crawled up here.”

“…Haa. You’re not wrong. Damn rock salt trade…”

“Anyway, word is a new rock-salt mine opened in the Black Mountains this season. Let’s hope for the best. Maybe this time you’ll finally fill that huge pack of yours. Sinan’s Thousand-Day Purple Salt (a premium sun-dried salt ‘refined’ for three years) is famous for a reason. If we secure volume, that’s all profit.”

“…Ha. Fine. I’ll endure exactly three more years. That should be enough to buy a nice, wide ranch down south.”

“Do as you like. For now, get your purse ready. Thanks to that thick-headed knight, the entry fee went up. We should grease him with thirty—no, thirty-five dana at least. Also, wipe that look off your face!”

“Hmph…”

I silenced the ever-fidgety Shia—who couldn’t stand still for even a second—by scooping her into a bear hug, then stood quietly and listened to the chatter around us.

‘…So that’s how things worked here.’

“Ghk—kheh! S-sword God, let go. My spine will snap. I know I’m charming, but rough displays of affection are… urk… difficult to accept…”

“Promise you won’t run around causing a scene.”

“…F-fine, I promise. S-so let—me—go—”

Only then did I unwind my arms from her waist. The crisp crack I heard suggested I’d squeezed a bit too hard.

“Seriously… you’re impossible to pin down. Sometimes you act like a sage who knows everything, and sometimes you’re a brainless brat.”

“But—but! All of this is my first time! That dog sled! Those carriages! Those carts! That dwarf and that elf over there! I knew them in theory, but seeing them for real is completely new!”

Fair point. She’d had that same giddy energy when she first met me.

“Then why didn’t you get this excited seeing those female orcs last time? Wasn’t that your first time too?”

“Orcs are orcs. First time or not, filth is filth and ugly is ugly.”

“And the humans they’d captured? You looked at them like cows watching chickens.”

“Even if they aren’t orcs, I dislike ugly ones.”

“…Right. Anyway, keep it low-key in crowded places. Do you know why I put a hooded robe on you even though you don’t feel the cold?”

“To prevent mass panic caused by my unmatched, peerless, heaven-fashioned beauty.”

“Sure. You’re pretty, I admit it. So behave, okay? You’re the one who wanted to come here. If it gets dicey, we’re ditching Sinan and moving on.”

“All right, all right. We have plenty of time anyway.”

Grinning, she climbed my back with practiced ease and settled on my shoulders like it was her rightful perch.

“By the way, you seemed to be all ears with those merchants. Did you figure something out?”

“More or less.”

Here’s what the angel’s booklet (Northern Continent Guidebook, Sacred Continental Calendar year 1440 edition) said about Sinan Barony:

• As a harsh frontier, it was quite large for a barony, but two-thirds of it was uninhabited wasteland.
• Watch posts dotted the wasteland to monitor monster movement.
• Actual habitation was mostly limited to the outer and inner city walls; only nobles and gentry could enter the inner city.
• Being adjacent to wild orc territory, battles with orcs were more frequent than with other monsters.
• Special products included monster by-products and salt. In particular, Sinan’s rock salt refined into “Thousand-Day Purple Salt” was well known in the far north.

“Next. Black-haired one.”

While soothing the squirming girl under her hood, my turn finally came.

The knight who’d been shaking down merchants with suspiciously professional skill gave me—black clothes, black coat (courtesy of the hero starter kit)—a once-over, then frowned.

“…Pointlessly tall. How tall are you?”

“One hundred eighty-nine centimeters.”

Thanks to the Northern Continent Language Translator lodged in my throat, my mouth cheerfully converted it into their odd system—some strange unit called ‘gude’ instead of metric.

He flicked his eyes, comparing my height to his, then clicked his tongue.

“You’re obviously not from the north. Where are you from?”

“As you can tell from my hair, I’m from the Eastern Continent.”

“…Suspicious. Why would an East-lander stick his head into the far edge of the Northern Continent?”

“Truth is, I’m a wandering priest. I’m thinking of settling in Sinan Barony. I can’t write grand liturgies, but I can at least serve as a healer.”

At that, the knight’s eyes widened for a second, then he barked a laugh.

“Hah… What are you babbling about? You want to be a priest in Sinan? You crazy red-witted fool?”

“Whoa—why the sudden meltdown…?”

“Shut it! How dare a lowborn peasant mock a gentry knight! And in Sinan of all places, by impersonating a priest!”

He reached for his sword. Feeling that, Shia grabbed a fistful of my hair: time to follow the plan and talk.

I quickly pulled a pendant from my chest and thrust it toward his face.

“Wait. This should prove my identity.”

He didn’t even look. The blade came halfway out.

“Enough. I’ll cut that lying tongue first.”

Right then, one of the guards yelped and grabbed the knight’s arm from behind.

“Sir! Sir! Sheathe your sword! That’s a Divine Mark! The Lumina Church’s Divine Mark! He’s a real priest!”

“…What?”

The knight scowled, then took a proper look at my necklace. Seeing the crescent-and-star sigil, he flinched and stiffened.

“…Are you truly a priest?”

“Yes.”

“Can you prove it?”

I lifted my hand without a word. A golden holy light blossomed over my palm.

“…Divine power.”

Naturally, the angel had given me this “divine power.”

To be precise—

“So you really don’t want the ‘hero’ status?”

“Yeah. I hate standing out.”

“Hmm. A Lumina-Church-certified hero isn’t bad—lots of perks—but fine. Since you helped us, I’ll make an exception! I’ll grant you priesthood in the Lumina Church. With this, no one can hassle you over identity.”

“I’ll register you as an itinerant priest—no obligations. Add the Pontiff’s seal… perfect. Here: a pilgrim-priest certificate, a preacher’s license, and the Lumina Church Divine Mark.”

“Oh, the Mark can be reissued at a temple if it breaks, but the certificate and license are a pain to replace, so keep them safe.”

“…Isn’t this forgery? With the Pontiff’s seal?”

“Heh. I am the law.”

“…Your heaven’s as messy as ours.”

“Also, I’m like siblings with the current Pontiff. I changed his diapers, you know?”

“How old is this Pontiff now?”

“Mm… Seventy-three, I think? People age so fast—ah! That face! Don’t give me that ‘must be nice to be old’ smirk!”

“Anyway, priest credentials require manifesting divine power, right? What if someone asks me to use it?”

“About that… here, take this yellow pill. Behold! Our boss’s divine power—free of charge!!”

“What a convenient plot device…”

“It’s only for ID demonstrations, so you can’t do anything big.”

“What can I do?”

“High-grade priestly miracles are out. At best, you can perform minor healing—‘close wounds,’ ‘cure light illness,’ that sort of thing.”

“Of course, if you truly convert to our boss, you could do much more…”

“Not buying. Move along.”

Seeing the light in my hand, the knight sheathed his sword and grunted.

“Unbelievable. Never seen someone try to stroll in so brazenly. Priest, do you even know what kind of place Sinan Barony is?”

“I do. A domain without temples.”

“Then you’re seriously saying you want to settle here?”

“Does that cause a problem?”

“…Hah. Enough. Go. Before you’ll have a rough end.”