The Porter Has No Interest in the Hero’s Party

The afternoon sun casts deep shadows. We sit facing each other at the tavern counter, bathed in backlight, our gazes intense. Deceived by my sweet talk, the woman trembles slightly as she wipes a cup, asking with eager anticipation.

“So, what do you do for a living, sir?”

I confidently tell a story that isn’t entirely a lie.

“Well, I play a very important role in the hero’s party. You could say they couldn’t function without me.”

“Oh my! How wonderful…”

Admiring eyes, plump breasts. Tempting thighs and a slender waist. The widow who had lost her husband looks at me with moist eyes, breathing heavily. I nod and boast even more.

“To be specific, I handle the finances for the party. You could say I’m the brains. The brains.”

“How impressive. I thought you were a fighter, but you’re an intellectual…”

In a way, womanizers and merchants could be considered in the same profession. If merchants exaggerate the performance of their goods to sell dreams to people, I merely sell a bit of fantasy to women.

This woman, who lost her husband in the demon war and now runs an inn alone, has been worn down by loneliness and rudeness for a long time. As a member of the hero’s party, comforting such a woman was both my duty and my right.

After all, isn’t it only natural for lonely, abandoned people to seek comfort in each other? I extend my hand with a sly smile, and the widow, though shaking her head as if to refuse, naturally reaches out her hand.

Just as our hands are about to touch—

“Porter mister! Here you are. Come out quickly!”

A woman with short orange hair barges in, kicking the door open. I wipe the relaxed expression off my face and immediately bow before her.

“Oh, oh my! Lady Lena! W-what brings you here?”

“The Demon King’s army has appeared near the border, so we need to move quickly.”

“P-porter?”

A look of disbelief spreads across the widow’s face. Unable to offer any excuse to the widow, I’m dragged outside the tavern by the woman. I scratch my head and say:

“Lady Lena. Can’t we stay a bit longer? I’ll be done soon. Just give me five minutes, please, five minutes.”

“Five minutes would be cruel to that lady.”

Lena clicks her tongue as she says this. Sudden mobilization orders are never welcome in any unit. Having experienced organizational life herself, this kind of hasty departure didn’t seem to sit well with her either.

“So, are we leaving right away? Where are we going this time?”

“The hero will know. I just heard we need to gather everyone before departure. Ah, I thought we might get some rest this time.”

Lena stretches as she speaks. The distinct spider tattoo on her neck seems to writhe as if alive. Lena massages her neck, yawns, and says to me:

“Let’s stop by the church first. Ashuria should be there too.”

“Ah, yes. Understood.”

The image of the widow from moments ago keeps flashing before my eyes. If not for the deployment order, I could have spent a passionate night today, could have eased my loneliness with a drag of a cigarette in bed. Perhaps my expression conveyed my sense of loss to her as well. Lena patted my shoulder and said:

“Don’t look so down, mister. In the next village, there’ll be a widow even more amazing than that one. Breasts twice as big, hips twice as round. And she’ll be as tall as you.”

“That sounds like a monster.”

“Does it?”

Lena cackled. She clearly wasn’t genuinely trying to comfort me. As she turned her gaze toward me while laughing, a man with his hat pulled low was walking toward us. After scanning Lena and me, he bumped shoulders with Lena and said:

“Oops, sorry about that.”

Then he ran toward the alley at a speed faster than when he approached us.

I looked at Lena and asked:

“Should we chase after him?”

“No. My wallet’s right here.”

Lena smiled and showed me her wallet. I said to her:

“As expected of a first-class thief from the Black Society. You recovered your wallet before I even noticed.”

“I also got his fingers.”

As Lena said this, she twirled a dagger with one hand. The dagger had a ring attached, making it easy to spin with her fingers, and its blade was so sharp it could slice through passing insects. After spinning the dagger making a whistling sound, she tucked it back at her waist and showed me her stubby finger joints.

“…Wow.”

One, two, three, four, five. All five fingers were severed, looking like sausages.

“AAAAARGH!”

From a distance in the alley, the pickpocket who had belatedly realized the problem with his fingers let out a scream. Lena chuckled and scattered the finger stumps on the ground. A dog that had been wagging its tail and begging picked up the fingers and ate them as if it had been waiting for this moment.

“Isn’t that excessive?”

“What’s excessive? Seeing this tattoo and still trying to rob me means he should be dead. I let him live.”

Lena pointed at her distinct spider tattoo and laughed again. The black spider tattoo served as a warning not to mess with her. As we approached the church, Lena roughly wiped the blood from her palm.

“Aaah! I-I’m sorry! Please forgive me!”

Was it because we were nearing the church? With each step, we heard the voice of someone repenting. Lena laughed at the prayer-like pleading and said:

“Hearing the sound of repentance really puts me at ease, doesn’t it? What’s the technical term for this… catharsis?”

“I guess so. Tartar sauce or something.”

“What? Is that right?”

Lena burst into laughter. I didn’t care whether it was called cathar lace or whatever. Such difficult terms weren’t necessary for developing a deep relationship with a widow. What I needed now was to quickly reach our next destination and find that village’s widow.

That was all.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

“Ah! Aaah! P-please stop! I beg you! Sob, sob! It hurts too much…”

But as we reached the vicinity of the church, what greeted us wasn’t the beautiful prayer sounds of priests and nuns, but the heavy impact sounds of flesh being torn away. Each punch, clearly intended to kill the opponent, not only pounded the person’s body but also made the walls resonate.

“Oh, there she is. Ashuria!”

We could identify the source of this noise in the church alley. There was a nun in the process of grabbing a man by the collar and turning his face into a bloody mess. The tight-fitting nun’s habit, the blood-stained knuckle dusters on her hands, and her long black hair revealed her identity.

Ashuria. The woman who served as the priestess in our hero’s party. A woman with striking long black hair and black eyes, not originally a nun by profession, but a talent specially dispatched from the church for this hero’s party.

“Lena. What’s going on?”

She asked Lena while wiping blood from her hands. Lena, showing not the slightest interest in the fallen man, said:

“We’re leaving now, so pack your things.”

“It’s a shame, we haven’t been in this village for very long.”

Ashuria said as she removed her knuckle dusters. Blood and flesh dripping from them made it seem like we had entered a slaughterhouse. I asked:

“Sister, why have you beaten this man to such a state?”

“He harassed a nun of the church, so I had no choice but to preach to him.”

“Urgh… P-please call a doctor! It hurts so much… I’m cold…”

Judging from the faint smell of alcohol, it seemed he had entered the church drunk and suffered the consequences. I said to Ashuria:

“Isn’t this punishment too severe?”

“One cannot easily overlook the matter of harassing a servant of God. How could I possibly forgive him? I offered to absolve his sins for a donation of 1 silver, but the believer wouldn’t listen.”

“Ah! Aaah…”

The man trembled, tears streaming down his face. Ashuria tilted her head slightly to check the man’s condition, then said to me:

“I said 1 silver, but he gave me 5 copper. So I warned him I’d search his pockets and hit him once for each copper I found.”

It takes 100 copper to make 1 silver. Ashuria showed the blood-stained wallet and said:

“There were 2 silver in the wallet. Unfortunate.”

Ashuria extended her hand and shot light into the man’s body. The man’s face began to heal slightly, and the bleeding stopped. Ashuria dusted off her hands and said:

“He should have enough strength to visit a doctor now. Go and reflect on your sins.”

“Ah, aaaaargh!”

The man ran away without even thanking Ashuria. Ashuria’s face twisted, but Lena put her arm around Ashuria’s neck and said:

“Come on, let’s go meet the hero now, okay?”

Ashuria nodded at the mention of the hero and turned around. I received Ashuria’s luggage, packed it into the baggage bag, and followed the two with the now bulkier bag.

“Where is the hero?”

“He said he’d wait outside the village. He should be in the Mille Forest, so he’s probably met up with her first.”

“Isn’t that him over there?”

In the direction I pointed, a deer was still alive, caught in a trap and rolling on the ground, with the hero beside it. And a small elf, about as tall as the hero’s chest, was looking at the deer while sobbing.

“It’s Mille and the hero.”

The hero, with blond hair and blue eyes, smiled brightly and waved at us. Lena waved back casually and ran towards him, while Ashuria handed me the wallet she had just taken and said:

“Take the money out and dispose of the wallet in a suitable place.”

“Ah, yes.”

Lena high-fived the hero and smiled brightly.

“Hero! What have you been doing?”

“Waiting for you all.”

The hero replied in a gentle voice. Indeed, from the perspective of someone older, it was heartwarming to see such young people together.

“Sob! Sniff. Heeeng…”

But during this joyful reunion, the elf was crying. The young elf with light blonde hair and small stature was watching the struggling deer while wiping away tears. Lena turned her gaze and said:

“Mille. Why are you crying like that?”

“B-because the deer is so pitiful…!”

Lena thought for a moment, then nodded and said:

“Ah, so you feel sorry that the deer is caught like this and will be eaten by us? But don’t worry…”

Thwack!

Before Lena could finish speaking, Mille took out a dagger from her waist and plunged it into the deer’s neck. The struggling deer’s eyes lost focus, and its limbs went limp. Mille, still crying, said:

“Sniff! Sob! I’ll end your pain! Poor thing…”

Mille said this as she took out a metal bowl and placed it on the ground. Then she opened the wound on the deer’s neck and collected the blood while wiping away her tears. The blood flowed like a stream, quickly filling the bucket.

“Sniff. Hiccup! Does, does anyone want to drink the blood? It’s good for health…”

“…I’ll pass.”

Lena shook her head with an awkward expression. I asked Ashuria:

“Are all elves like this?”

“…I’ve heard stories that elves are emotionless, cold, crazy people.”

“But Miss Mille seems quite emotional.”

Ashuria merely shrugged. While we conversed, Mille had skinned the deer, folded the hide, and was separately packaging the edible parts into small portions. The sight of her handling the deer with blood-covered face and hands was quite jarring.

“Sob! Deer, we’ll eat you deliciously…!”

Silence fell as Mille finished speaking. As we all looked at each other, unsure how to respond, Lena forced a laugh and repeated Mille’s words:

“Deer, we’ll eat you well-.”

The nun and the hero followed suit:

“We’ll eat you well, deer.”

“I will eat well. Deer.”

Then all eyes turned to me. I hesitated, taking a step back, before finally composing myself, bowing my head to the deer meat, and saying:

“Well then, deer, I’ll eat you well-.”

“Hehehe…”

Mille, finally satisfied, nodded and gave all the packaged meat and hide to me. I gathered up the increased load and stood up, and Mille, carrying her bow, stood with me at the rear.

The hero, adjusting his sword hilt, said to us:

“Shall we depart then?”

And so.

Another great adventure of our hero’s party was about to begin.