Chapter 16

“Safe travels, ho…nored guest!!”

“Come again if you need anything! The doors of our Magic Tower are always open to you!”

And so, Shia and I left the Splitting Flame Magic Tower with not only the “Concealment (Domination) Earring” and its paired “Collar of Subjugation,” but also a few extra trinkets we picked up along the way. Thanks to that, we received a grand send-off(?) as we departed.

“Take us to the Stag Antler Inn.”

“Yes, sir! Hyah!!”

Back in the carriage, I fiddled with my much lighter coin pouch and let out a sigh.

“Damn. Just a few artifacts and one-third of my funds are gone. With that money I could’ve bought a whole estate.”

“Artifacts are always worth more than gold or jewels. And besides, you acquired several high-grade ones for a bargain today.”

I pulled out the Black Mountain Whip, the Black Mountain Rope, and the Black Mountain Feather from my Hero’s Backpack and snorted.

“What the hell am I supposed to do with these SM-looking toys? We basically bought clearance junk.”

“Hmph… Anything has its use eventually. And you did come away with at least one fine item, did you not?”

“Well… yeah.”

From the sheath at my belt, I drew out a throwing dagger.

—The Recall Dagger.

A neat little weapon that automatically returned to its owner’s hand across space after being thrown. It even had durability reinforcement and a self-repair function, making it decent for knife fighting as well.

“Honestly, just the concealment effect on the earring alone is worth what you paid. Be generous. You also picked up a few beginner spellbooks, didn’t you?”

“True enough.”

Three days later.

Ever since returning from the tower, we’d been sampling all sorts of restaurants, treating every meal like a gourmet tour. Today was no different—we boarded a carriage to another well-reviewed place.

“Here we are, sir.”

“Thanks. Here, thirty sels. Keep the change.”

The driver’s eyes went wide at the tip.

“Gracious! Thank you, honored gentry!”

Gentry, huh. Well, not inaccurate.

A skilled priest was treated on par with the gentry—or sometimes even higher.

Of course, my own ability as a priest wasn’t anything special. But I had something better: an official Pilgrim Priest Certificate, sealed by the Pontiff himself. Who would dare treat me as a mere commoner with that in hand?

While I paid the driver, Shia had already bolted from the carriage and was charging straight for today’s target, a restaurant called Snow Rabbit of the Mountains.

“I’m hungry! Food!!”

“Hey! Your hood! You need your hood up!”

“What nonsense? I have the Concealment Earring. Why hide my beauty with a hood?”

Before I could say another word, she burst through the doors.

Clatter!

The diners all looked up at the sudden intrusion, only to shrug and return to their meals a moment later.

Shia tapped my arm, grinning smugly.

“See? I told you, it works fine. Owner! Take our order!”

A young waitress wiped her hands on her apron and approached.

“What’ll it be?”

“Start with your most expensive dish. And then…”

As Shia rattled off her order, I scratched my cheek.

That concealment effect… it never stopped being uncanny. People could see her, hear her voice, yet still fail to truly register her.

Before our food arrived, the usual complimentary “Eternal Stew” was set on the table. Shia took one spoonful and immediately shoved it my way with a grimace.

“Ugh… as expected, this witch’s cauldron sludge is inedible.”

“You still try it every time. I gave up after a couple disasters. Ah, here comes the food. Don’t cling to it—dump that stew. I don’t even want the smell near me.”

The waitress’s face fell at the insult. She clearly took pride in the restaurant’s dark, traditional sludge.

I tossed her a silver coin in apology, then joined Shia in attacking the real dishes once they arrived.

“Mm, mmph. Nyam. Yesterday’s place was awful, but this one’s not bad at all.”

“Yeah, but still bland for me. No punch, no MSG. At least the salt’s decent, probably thanks to the local mine, but… Maybe I should tell the angel to bring spices from Earth next trip.”

“Oh! That ramen thing too. Make her bring some. You swore it was amazing.”

“In terms of processed food, it’s humanity’s crown jewel. Especially the soup powder—it buffs anything you put it in. Black pepper and nutmeg can’t compete.”

“Excellent. Excellent. So, when is that angel woman coming back?”

“She said two or three months. We’ll have to wait.”

As I ticked off ingredients like a grocery list for divine courier service, Shia kept shoveling food with endless enthusiasm.

“By the way, I’ve been wondering… You don’t even need sleep or food, right? Then why do you sleep more than me and eat like a black hole?”

Shia stabbed a chunk of meat and chewed before shooting me a flat look.

“If someone told you to live the rest of your life without ever having sex, could you actually do it?”

Her blunt, out-of-nowhere question made my brow twitch.

“…That’s a horrifying thought.”

“Exactly. You wouldn’t die without it, yet you still do it. Why? Because you desire it.”

“…So?”

“For me, eating and sleeping are the same. Need and desire are two different things. And because I never indulged properly in the past two hundred years, my cravings burn all the hotter now.”

“I see. So that’s how it is. But eating is one thing—couldn’t you sleep all you wanted even back in your Demon King’s castle?”

“Without hope or expectation for tomorrow, there is no will to sleep. Do you think closing your eyes on a cold stone floor is the same as curling up in a warm blanket, wrapped in your body heat?”

“…Mm.”

“So stop pushing me away every time I ask for skinship or when I cling to you in bed. What’s so wrong about wanting to cuddle and feel a little warmth?”

“You try to latch on at every spare moment. I just want to get some rest without you glued to me for once. Half. Do it half as much. Let me have some personal space.”

Shia turned her head with an exaggerated “hmph” and changed the subject.

“More importantly, when will you contact the Baron? The plan is ready, the preparations are complete. Is there any reason to delay?”

“You’re that eager? I was dragging my feet so you could enjoy yourself.”

Shia shook her head.

“I’ve already seen enough. What fun is there to be had in this backwater any longer?”

“…So you’re saying you want to hurry up and watch the barony go up in flames?”

Instead of answering, Shia just flashed me a sly, mischievous smile.

This damn imp…

“Well, that settles it. I was getting bored too. Then this will be our last meal before we start moving.”

We both chuckled and bumped fists lightly.

“Then… as planned?”

“As planned.”

That afternoon.

“Outfit, check. Divine Mark, check. Recall Dagger, well hidden… good enough.”

As planned, I left Shia at the Stag Antler Inn and made my way toward the inner city where the lord’s castle stood.

It didn’t take long before the massive gate came into view—at least five meters high—guarded by soldiers.

“…Definitely sharper than the outer city rabble. Posture’s on point.”

The guards barked at the people queued for entry permits with oppressive voices.

“Halt! State your business!”

“Uh, uh… I-I have an appointment with Master Dastran of the Dastran Merchant Company at five o’clock. H-here’s the permit.”

“Pass! Next! State your business!”

“This is a letter from Baron Baden to Sub-Baron Owen. Here’s the pass…”

“Pass!”

I watched the line for a while, then instead of joining it, I walked toward another gate—bigger, more ornate, and with fewer people passing through.

“Excuse me, sir. What business brings you here?”

…The gate reserved for the gentry and nobles only.

The guards here greeted me with courteous tones, so different from the other line, that I plastered on a pleasant smile and introduced myself.

“My name is David Graham.” (Alias.) “I don’t have a permit, but I do have a letter of introduction from Tower Master Falun Ro Istall, Viscount.”

Thank you, Archmage.

I helped clear your surplus stock, and in return you even wrote me a recommendation.

“The Tower Master…?”

“Viscount Istall himself…”

The rigid guards instantly bent their backs in deference. I noted it and thought I really ought to gift the man some Maxim instant coffee when the angel next brought supplies from Earth.

“So then, I’d like to request an audience with the Baron.”

For reference, the relationship between Baron Gelrok Av Sinan and Falun Ro Istall, Tower Master of the Splitting Flame Tower was… delicate.

Which one ranked higher was hard to define.

The Baron was a hereditary noble, lord of his own land. Falun, meanwhile, was a viscount—but only an honorary title, granted when he became Archmage.

Normally, you’d think viscount outranks baron. But titles in this world weren’t as strict as military ranks. A baron with real land and authority—especially one who had delivered results by holding Monsterland at bay—could easily look down on a newly minted honorary viscount.

Except… Falun wasn’t just any viscount. He was a Tower Master, an 8th-rank Archmage, and even held an honorary viscountcy from the far more powerful Baran Empire, who claimed him as a native son the moment he rose in rank.

So, in short? Their positions were roughly equal, maybe even tilted slightly in Falun’s favor.

And yet, Falun deliberately deferred to the Baron. He showed respect, asked permission where he didn’t need to, supported summons to monster battles when he could have refused.

That meant the Baron lived with a heavy sense of debt toward him.

So when Falun wrote a letter saying, “This man is trustworthy. Let him pass…”

“The Baron has agreed to see you immediately, sir.”

…there was no way he could ignore it.

Just like that, I found myself ushered into the lord’s audience chamber.

“David Graham, was it…? A mere gentry whelp should know that requesting an audience with me like this is a grave discourtesy.”