Chapter 11….
“Fortunately, the rooms are all empty, but it’s far too small to house all the soldiers. We’ll have to find other lodgings as well.”
Milleon, who had gone into the inn first, greeted Dante with this report.
“Is there anywhere else to stay?”
Since this was such a remote village, this inn was likely the only one around.
Asking the villagers to lend their homes for a night would only be burdensome.
“Don’t worry. If we ask the village chief and offer proper compensation, he should be able to arrange a decent place.”
He didn’t say how much “proper compensation” meant, but it was unlikely to be small.
“By the way, who’s the man behind you?”
Milleon glanced at Fran, who stood behind Dante.
He wasn’t particularly wary. Dante had brought him directly, and besides, Fran didn’t look well at all.
Sweat streamed down his pale face as he anxiously glanced about, as though he himself didn’t know how he’d ended up here.
“He’s an herbalist. I have some questions about Mount Kalotes.”
“I see. If he’s an herbalist, he’ll know the mountain’s terrain well. Not a bad idea at all.”
Milleon nodded.
Looks like he’s taking this more seriously than I thought.
It didn’t seem like Dante was just trying to satisfy a passing curiosity; his attitude was far too serious.
Hmph, I’m a little worried.
If they searched Mount Kalotes and found nothing, Dante might be bitterly disappointed.
Should I have the soldiers bury something there tonight?
Of course, relics of the Holy Ones were impossible, but perhaps a small trinket or treasure could be arranged.
At least then, the boy wouldn’t have his young heart wounded…
“Don’t just stand there. Have a seat.”
Dante’s voice broke through Milleon’s thoughts, echoing inside the inn.
“I–I really am fine standing!”
Fran, pale as death, waved his hands frantically. The idea of sitting face-to-face with a noble was unimaginable.
“Sit.”
“Y-yes, sir!”
At the faint frown on Dante’s face, Fran leapt into the chair like lightning.
“Eina. We’ll need some simple food and drink.”
“I’ll prepare it right away.”
It was a small inn, but it seemed they still served meals and drinks.
Eina hurried toward the cowering innkeeper in the corner.
“Then I’ll go with Sir Patrick to look for lodgings.”
Milleon, not wanting to waste any more time, reported to Dante and then left with Patrick.
Step.
That left only Elaine, who quietly moved to stand behind Dante.
Her expression was icy cold, like frost.
Fran felt like he was about to die under that chill.
“I have a few questions.”
Dante finally spoke.
“I–I’ll tell you everything I know!”
“Nothing grand. How often do you climb Mount Kalotes?”
It was an odd question. But Fran answered immediately without a moment’s hesitation.
“About three times a week. Sometimes one or two more if I don’t harvest much, but usually three.”
“And the routes? Do you take different ones each time?”
“N-no, not really. It’s a small mountain, and herbs only grow in limited spots. So I rotate among a few fixed routes.”
“A few routes, huh…”
Dante nodded.
I can’t search the entire mountain. Better to focus on those paths first.
Milleon had allowed only a single day—tomorrow.
Even if Kalotes was small, one day wasn’t nearly enough to search every corner.
Concentrating on the herbalist’s usual paths would be far more efficient.
If nothing turns up, I’ll have to wait for the next chance.
The sacred flame was discovered ten years from now.
That meant he still had time.
Besides, Dante knew of several other opportunities to obtain things even greater than the sacred flame.
Disappointing, perhaps, but there was no need to stake everything on this attempt.
“Tomorrow, I’ll need your help.”
Dante spoke seriously, looking straight at the herbalist.
“…What do you mean?”
Fran’s fear was palpable.
“We’re not searching for Spirit Grass, so don’t worry.”
Dante softened his expression, trying to reassure him.
Though it didn’t change the situation.
“You’ll be compensated fairly. Will one gold coin suffice?”
“O-one gold coin?!”
Fran’s shocked cry rang through the inn.
That was far too much for a single day’s help.
To a commoner, a gold coin was enough to live comfortably for a year.
It was the kind of windfall one might never see again in their lifetime.
At last, the worry and fear vanished from his face, replaced by delight.
“Of course! Leave it to me!”
“Good. I’m counting on you.”
Dante smiled inwardly.
Nothing works better than money.
The way Fran now gazed at him with sparkling eyes, as though fear had never existed, proved the power of gold.
“Ah, I didn’t even ask your name.”
“Fran! My name’s Fran.”
Naturally, he had no surname.
Dante nodded and extended his hand.
“My name is Dante Aquites. I look forward to working with you.”
The sky was just beginning to brighten.
Dante, who had finished all preparations at dawn, stepped out of his room.
“Did you sleep well?”
Milleon was waiting at the door, greeting him at once.
It seemed three knights had taken turns keeping guard outside his room all night.
“It wasn’t too bad.”
“That’s a relief. I worried you might have been uncomfortable.”
The inn’s facilities were hardly worth praise. Expecting luxury in such a remote village was laughable.
Until now, Dante had only ever known the best beds and bedding. Milleon doubted he could fall asleep in a place like this.
“It wasn’t uncomfortable.”
But Dante wasn’t lying.
He had lived most of his life in places far worse.
He had often slept on muddy battlefields, without so much as a blanket, let alone a bed.
Compared to that, this was nothing.
“Are the preparations complete?”
“Almost. Once Fran the herbalist arrives, we can depart.”
Dante nodded as they walked.
“Good. Let’s head down.”
When they reached the first floor, the atmosphere was bustling.
“Start with the jerky. Bread goes here. Ah! I said no soup—it’s too heavy for climbing the mountain!”
Eina’s bright voice rang out, filling the morning air.
“Looks like they’re preparing provisions.”
“Indeed.”
She was commanding soldiers and innkeeper alike as if she were a general on the battlefield.
“Eina.”
“Oh, young master! You’re up early again today. Did you wash your face? Should I bring water?”
She hurried over, checking him anxiously. Clearly, she couldn’t bear the thought of her master going about unkempt.
Dante sighed and waved her off.
“I’ve washed already, no need to fuss. More importantly, keep the supplies light. We may be climbing all day, and I don’t want to burden the soldiers.”
Unfortunately, his plan to climb the mountain with only the knights had failed.
Everyone had fiercely opposed it—especially Eina, who clung to his trousers, refusing to let him go.
In the end, he had no choice but to take everyone.
“So I only packed light things.”
She smiled, reassuring him.
As expected, she was quick-witted.
Even without instruction, she handled everything perfectly.
Clink.
Just then, the inn’s door opened. Elaine entered with Fran in tow.
“They’re here.”
Fran’s expression was full of excitement, so different from his timid face yesterday.
“D-did you sleep well?”
He bowed clumsily, his tongue tripping over itself as he tried to mimic noble etiquette.
Dante chuckled and shook his head.
“There’s no need to force etiquette. It doesn’t suit you anyway.”
“Ah, yes, understood.”
Fran scratched his head sheepishly.
“Seems we’re ready. Shall we leave?”
“Of course. This is the perfect time to climb.”
When Dante looked back, Eina also nodded.
“We’re all set too.”
“Then let’s depart.”
At his command, everyone moved in unison.
Step.
As they left the inn, the bright morning view of the village greeted them.
“Please follow me, this way.”
The villagers preparing breakfast stared after them.
“Isn’t that Fran?”
“Where’s he going with a nobleman at this hour? Could it be something dangerous?”
“He doesn’t look troubled though…”
Worried whispers followed Fran.
So he didn’t tell them.
Perhaps he feared trouble if he revealed too much about his dealings with nobles—or maybe it was simply the gold coin.
Either way, as long as Dante’s business wasn’t gossiped about, it was enough.
He followed Fran out of the village and soon they reached the foot of Mount Kalotes.
“It’s not a steep mountain, but please be careful.”
Fran’s tone was cautious. For a child, even a small mountain was no easy climb.
But Dante wasn’t an ordinary child.
Even without magic, his body could climb mountains many times higher with ease.
“Thank you for the warning.”
Still, he didn’t correct Fran. There was no need to explain.
“Shall I guide you along my usual routes?”
“How many are there?”
“Counting the one I use only in winter, about seven.”
“Hmm.”
Not too many.
But would they be able to cover them all in one day? Uncertain.
They could push themselves, but Dante had no intention of forcing the soldiers to wander late into the night.
“I see.”
Dante turned his gaze back.
Catching it, Milleon ordered the soldiers:
“Light the torches.”
Fwoosh—!
The soldiers pulled out the prepared sticks and lit the oil-soaked rags at their tips.
Twenty torches flared at once, sending waves of heat into the morning air.
“T-torches? Why…?”
Fran blinked in confusion at Dante and the soldiers.
The sun had only just risen. The mountain wasn’t so dark as to need torches.
“There’s a reason. Don’t worry about it.”
Milleon smiled as he answered the bewildered herbalist.
“A-ah, yes.”
Fran nodded quickly, dropping the matter. Best not to pry too deeply into a noble’s affairs.
A wise choice.
“Let’s climb.”
“This way, please.”
Fran cleared the brush to make the path easier for Dante and led the way.
“Hopefully we’ll find it.”
“I’m sure we will.”
Milleon smiled faintly at Dante’s murmur.
“Hm?”
Dante tilted his head. There was a strange certainty in Milleon’s eyes.
It didn’t seem like mere words of encouragement.
Dante looked at him curiously, noting the satisfied smile on his face.
