“Pfft, I must say, though it sounded cool acting all tough like that, it's not a pleasant feeling at all,” Al grumbled, having crossed a sea of filth and escaping the royal capital.
He traveled to a forest, a good distance away from the capital, in search of a spring. Upon finding one, he washed himself and his clothes. His nose was still numb—perhaps a defense mechanism of the body.
“I swear I'll never go through the sewers again,” he muttered, unable to bear the stench that clung to him. No matter how much he washed, the smell seemed to linger. In fact, his clothes were probably best left discarded.
“Well, first things first, I'll buy some clothes from a peddler, and then…” Al's thoughts were scattered. He hadn't planned in detail beyond this point. Being outside the capital for the first time and having to deal with so many uncertainties, he concluded that overthinking was futile.
“I've gained the basic skills to survive. I'll manage the rest on the fly,” he decided, reflecting on his purpose for the past five years. He had prepared as much as possible; now, it was time to act.
“Come on, sister. Our journey begins now,” Al said, rising from the spring and changing into the travel clothes he had prepared. But still—
“Ugh, it stinks!”
Ai resolved once more to never again go through the sewers.
༺༻
“His height is no good. That one's too bulky. And that one is a bit too old,” Al muttered as he rested by the side of a road leading away from the royal capital.
This spot was a convergence point for roads connecting the capital to other places. He pretended to rest while actually observing passersby.
He had bought new clothes from a peddler along the way. The peddler had made a face at the smell, but money was money, even if it stank like hell. The look of disgust remained, though.
“Well, it is rare to find someone suitable. I shouldn't panic, but if I keep striking out, I might need to adjust my approach,” Al thought, his expression clouding with a hint of self-doubt.
“But this is all I have… Huh?”
Al's gaze landed on a certain individual.
“Height, build, age—everything's perfect, the rest depends on their country of origin. I've lost count of how many people it has been by now, but let's give this one a try.”
Standing up, Al followed the person he had spotted.
༺༻
“Hello, may I borrow some fire?” Al greeted a young man who looked back in surprise.
The young man probably understood that he was being spoken to in his language, but had trouble catching the words.
“…? Ah, I, still, language, difficult,” the young man replied haltingly.
“Um, which country are you from?” Al asked, speaking slowly to make himself understood.
“...Lusitania,” the young man answered, likely realizing he was being asked about his homeland.
He didn't expect the other man to know about it, and indeed, Al looked taken aback. The young man sighed—
“You've come from quite far away. Welcome to Arcadia,” Al spoke in the young man's native tongue.
“?!” The young man was taken aback, hearing his mother tongue being spoken so unexpectedly.
“I'm also on a journey and happen to be fairly proficient in foreign languages. Oh, as I was asking earlier, can I borrow some fire from you?” Al explained, speaking in the young man's language.
“He-here it is… Please, go ahead,” the young man replied, still in shock.
Lusitania was a small country far away, separated by many others, and incomparable to one of the Seven Kingdoms like Arcadia. It was surprising enough that Al knew of it, let alone spoke the language.
“It's impressive that someone your age has traveled so far,” Al complimented.
“No, not at all. But to be so fluent in foreign languages at our age—you're the impressive one,” the young man, William, responded modestly.
“Lusitania is more famous than you think. Its wooden crafts are popular among the nobility here, and in the field of herbalism, Lusitania is leagues ahead of other countries. It's also said to produce unparalleled swords in its forges. It's a remarkable country, indeed” Al said with a smile, gradually easing William's wariness.
“Oh, I haven't introduced myself yet. My name is Norman. And you are?”
“William. Nice to meet you, Norman,” William replied, now completely at ease. Norman had an intriguing charm about him. Being of similar age helped, and William felt they got along well.
“Why are you traveling, Norman?”
“Well, I wanted to see the world. It's not easy, though. I've even dabbled in treasure hunting to get by, haha.”
“Yeah, that’s right. Ohhh, treasure hunting?! That's amazing! Can you tell me about it?!”
Norman responded with a wry smile as William blushed at his own enthusiasm.
“Sure, I can tell you. It was in one of the Seven Kingdoms—”
The two talked through the night, soon becoming friends, and decided to travel together to the royal capital for the next few days.
༺༻
As a cart passed by the two men, William glanced at Norman's face.
“By the way, Norman, why do you wear a bandana?” William asked, their relationship having progressed to first-name terms.
“I have a lot of white hair. It doesn't look very good,” Norman replied.
“Premature graying? In my homeland, it's said that having a lot of white hair at a young age is a sign of good health. My red hair is considered a sign of good fortune.”
“Really? That's news to me. Maybe I'll take off the bandana when I visit Lusitania.”
“I'll show you around when you do.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it.”
At that moment, William became certain. He would succeed in Arcadia's royal capital because he had made such a friend.
“Will you be my friend, Norman?”
“Huh? I thought we were friends already,” Norman replied, and William beamed with joy.
༺༻
The nights were still cold during this season. The two men huddled close to the fire for warmth.
"I have a fiancée. I came all this way to become a man worthy of her. My dream is to rise in status and return home in triumph," William began, sitting across the fire.
"She says she only wants to marry a strong man. That's why I decided to go on this journey. But before I left, she started crying, asking me not to go. It's selfish, isn't it? But knowing she cared made me happy. Now all I have to do is achieve some military feats!"
"William, is your family wealthy?"
William pondered for a moment.
"Hmm, I suppose we're fairly well-off, but it's not like the royal capital of the Seven Kingdoms where you can find anything. It's a boring place, all forests and mountains."
"I see. I'd like to visit it sometime."
"Come anytime! You'd always be welcome, Norman!"
Their conversation flowed easily. The royal capital was not far now, and William felt no anxiety. Any speck of anxiety he might have had was long gone, thanks to his friend, Norman.
༺༻
The journey that William and Norman had shared for several days was drawing to a close. By tomorrow afternoon, they would reach the royal capital. William greeted the evening with a tinge of sadness.
"May I step away for a moment?" Norman asked, rising to his feet.
"Where are you off to?"
"Just a bit of treasure hunting. There's said to be a thief's treasure buried under a tree in that forest. The thief got executed in another country, leaving the treasure behind."
William's eyes sparkled with interest.
"Shall we go together?"
"Yes!"
Norman smiled at William's immediate response.
The two left the main road and entered the forest, where darkness reigned, and no one else was around.
"This is the place. It'll take some digging, so please wait here," Norman said, taking out tools to dig into the ground. The damp earth was tough to penetrate without considerable effort.
"Phew, this is quite the challenge," Norman sighed, looking tired. William, who had been watching, stood up.
"Let me help you. Your turn to rest, Norman."
"Thank you. Let's take turns."
William began to dig, making quick work of the soil.
"I used to play in the mountains as a kid. I'm good at this sort of thing."
William dug with incredible speed, leaving Norman with nothing to do.
"By the way, William, did you leave your belongings by the fire?"
"Huff... No, I brought the important things with me."
"Oh? And what might those be?"
"Huff... Well, there's money, of course, the sword my father made, and my identification. Those three things should be enough to get by here."
"Ah, a sword forged by a Lusitanian, a kingdom renowned for its smithing. May I see it?"
"Sure. How much further should I dig?"
"Just a little more."
Norman rummaged through the belongings and found the sword. He also noticed a piece of parchment and his lips curled into a smile.
"Pant... Are we there yet?"
"Not yet. Oh, this is a magnificent sword.”
To acquire such a blade in Arcadia would cost a fortune. Even nobles might not possess such a sword. Its beauty and strength captivated Norman.
"Right? My father may not be the best swordsman, but he's a first-rate blacksmith. Are we there yet? I've dug quite a bit. Maybe it's in a different spot?"
Despite digging a hole large enough for a person, there was no treasure to be found.
"No, it should be right here. We're almost there."
"Are you sure? A place that's been dug before should be easier to dig. Sorry, Norman, I'm getting tired. Can we switch?"
William called out to Norman behind him.
"Yes, understood. I'll take over for you."
William turned to hand over the digging tool—
"Forever."
A beautiful silver blade shone in William's abdomen. The masterpiece his father had painstakingly crafted now pierced him. William couldn't comprehend the tragedy that had befallen him.
"Why?"
William staggered, blood dripping from the sword.
"Why would you, Norman?"
Even as he was stabbed, William couldn't believe it. He thought they were friends, best friends. He was convinced they had a bright future ahead of them.
"Ha, Norman, huh? First of all, I'm not Norman."
The young man calling himself Norman removed his bandana, revealing flowing white hair that shimmered in the moonlight. The white, which might normally be considered beautiful, now only evoked terror, especially when combined with the man's expression—
"My name is William. I shall graciously accept it. Rejoice, your name will spread across this world, and your existence will ascend above Arcadia. I'll even raise your military achievements. So, please die."
The man with white hair thrust the blade into William. The sword, forged to protect William, easily sliced through his flesh. His right arm flew off.
"I don't understand! We were friends! Weren't we?!"
William screamed, but his voice reached no one. There was no one living in the forest, and it was far enough from the main road. William's lament went unheard, even by the man before him—
"Friends, friends? No, that's probably impossible. I hate you, and I'm sure I could never like you."
William's eyes widened in despair.
"You grew up in a privileged environment, loved and nurtured. You have a family, a fiancée. Such luxury, such happiness, 'we' could never allow it!"
The silver blade shone again. William's left arm flew off. His screams did not resonate with the man before him, whose heart had shattered five years ago.
"You should have cherished your happiness! You shouldn't have come here seeking something greater! You misjudged your capacity, and you would have died somewhere anyway. So be grateful to me. As you had wished, I'll make your name resound in this world!"
William's consciousness began to blur. Blood flowed endlessly from his wounds, his life slipping away. His friendship with Norman, the certainty of the future, all of it crumbled.
"Ah, and I'll tell you one more thing. The treasure hunt story was all taken from a book, Norman was the name of the bookstore owner, and—"
The white-haired devil kicked William into the "hole."
"This is your grave, Williaaaam!"
All coherent thought had vanished from William. Memories of his happy homeland raced through his mind. Precious moments with his fiancée. Casual conversations with his family. Memories of his siblings, his sisters, the mountains—
"Oops, your head is sticking out. Let me fix it."
With that, the silver blade severed William's head.
"Goodbye, William. I'm grateful to you."
The rolling head was now a lifeless corpse. The man grabbed the red hair and threw the head into the hole.
"Phew, it's surprisingly... easy to cut. Or maybe this is just a good sword?"
The man, speaking in his native tongue, savored the sensation of cutting through a life.
"Don't worry, sister. I'm surprised myself. I thought my first murder by my own hands would hurt more... but no, I feel nothing."
The man's expression was calm, it was as if something within him had broken.
He gathered the "pieces" of William scattered around the hole and threw them in. After erasing all traces, he stretched out.
"Well, no matter. The real challenge begins now. Whether I can rise to power in that country, that's the gamble of a lifetime. Let's bury this quickly."
He began to cover the hole with dirt, his face expressionless.
And thus, Al’s karma grew heavier.