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Translator: Barnnn
There was this old saying: “Even dust, when it piles up, can form a mountain.”
Its timeless wisdom had been distilled in recent times into a more casual expression: “It adds up.”
The words were different, but the sentiment remained the same — small, consistent efforts could lead to monumental outcomes.
For Ize, who had thrown herself wholeheartedly into basketball despite the constant disapproval of her parents, the phrase had become a guiding principle, which she repeated to keep her own tendencies toward procrastination in check.
But here, in this foreign world Diocerne, the phrase had found a new target — not herself, but Hal. Or rather, Hal’s head.
“Come on, Ize, have a heart, will you?”
“…Do you regret what you did?” Ize asked, arms crossed as she leveled a cool stare at him.
“My regret is deeper than the ocean,” Hal replied, clutching his temples.
“…Swear it?”
“By the Goddess herself.”
With a sigh, Ize relented. “…Well, I suppose there’s no helping it. Here. Take this Curing Potion.”
“Wait, you’re really giving it to me?”
“I can’t let an important day like this get ruined over something this ridiculous.”
“Guh… All right, I won’t say anything more.”
“Except, you just did.”
The trouble had started the day before, when Hal decided to sample the local culture of Abrol through its liquor. From store to store, he’d gone, marveling at each brew and waxing poetic about the subtle differences in flavor.
As the horsebus driver had mentioned, Abrol was home to many local distilleries, each with unique brews shaped by the aging processes and the barrels’ unique properties. The townsfolk spoke of it like an art form, and Hal had been an eager participant. Yet, as with many forms of indulgence, moderation was key — a lesson Hal seemed incapable of learning.
Morning had arrived with less charm. His first groan of the day had been so guttural it sent Ize bolting from her bed, convinced something catastrophic had befallen him.
Instead, she found him clutching his head, looking pitiful but far from fatally afflicted. A hangover — nothing more. As the saying went, all those tiny cups had, indeed, added up.
Handing Hal the Potion, Ize said nothing — though she resolved firmly that she would keep a closer eye on him from now on. Hal, blissfully oblivious to her inner vow, downed the potion with a grateful sigh.
Today, they were to collect the monetary rewards that awaited them at both the Horsebus Union and the Adventurers’ Guild. Having played the role of unlikely heroes in a drama that felt ripped from the pages of a novel was one thing, but arriving to claim their dues while Hal reeked of spirits would have been another kind of humiliation entirely. Ize was determined to keep things sharp and professional. Hal, for his part, knew better than to cross her today — and so he decided he’d follow her lead.
◆
Upon arriving at the Horsebus Union’s headquarters, Hal and Ize were promptly ushered inside. It wasn’t long before the branch head, someone they recognized immediately from their meeting at the city guard station, emerged to greet them. He gestured for them to follow, personally escorting them to his office.
“You’ve done us a great service,” he started. “Not just the passengers but the guards, too — these are people who form the very backbone of our operations. Without them, we’re nothing.”
“We only did what we had to do to survive,” Hal replied modestly as they sat.
“Such humility at your age!” The branch head chuckled. “Truly admirable, Master Hal!”
“M-Master…?” Hal stammered, his cheeks flushing faintly.
The man paid no mind to Hal’s discomfort, reaching into a drawer and producing a well-organized ledger. “Now, let’s go over the details. This includes your share of the proceeds from the Blood Bear’s materials, a full refund for your horsebus fare, and a bonus from the Union itself. It might seem like a generous amount, but when you consider it’s spread across all the lives you saved, it’s truly modest. Assigning a monetary value to something as priceless as life is never easy.”
Hal bowed his head. “We weren’t expecting anything like this. It’s more than enough.”
“Thank you so much!” Ize chimed in.
The branch head gave a pleased nod. “If you’re satisfied, then I’m glad. And should you ever return to Lazulseed and need to travel, I hope you’ll choose our Union.” He paused, his expression softening. “Ah, but there’s one more thing.”
Turning to his desk, he opened another drawer and retrieved two medals with a grayish gleam.
“These are tokens of honor,” he explained. “We award them to our finest guards. They hold little material value, but they’re symbols of courage in protecting our passengers. Now, both of you, stand up.”
Hal and Ize rose from their seats, standing at attention as the branch head adjusted his posture, his voice clear and steady.
“I, Samphis, Horsebus Union Abrol branch head, hereby commend you, Hal, for your bravery. As proof of this honor, I present you this medal. Please accept it.”
“Yes, thank you,” Hal replied, receiving the medal with both hands.
Samphis nodded, then turned to Ize.
“And now, it’s your turn. I, Samphis, Horsebus Union Abrol branch head, hereby commend you, Ize, for your bravery. As proof of this honor, I present you this medal. Please accept it.”
“Yes! Thank you very much!”
Like Hal, Ize accepted the medal with both hands. She stared down at it for a long moment.
Though Samphis had downplayed its value, the medal’s dull surface seemed to shine with a brilliance that caught her off guard.
A small, involuntary laugh escaped her lips, and she quickly raised a hand to cover her mouth, only to find both Samphis and Hal watching her with warm smiles.
“Ah, um, thank you! I’ll treasure this!”
“Please do,” Samphis replied kindly. “But above all, take care of yourselves. That’s all from me. Thank you both for coming.”
“No, thank you.” Hal gave a respectful bow. “We’re grateful for this honor, and we’ll strive to live up to it.”
“We’ll do our best!” Ize added
Samphis personally saw them to the entrance.
“Goodbye, sir!” Hal called out as they stepped outside.
“Goodbye, and safe travels!” Samphis replied with a wave.
After waving back, the two proceeded to walk in silence for a while, making their way to the Adventurers’ Guild.
“You know…” Ize broke the silence.
“What’s up?”
“I feel like this medal suits me better than some grand recognition as a Hero or Sage ever would.”
“Agreed. I’d take this any day.”
“I can’t wait to show it to Fieda.”
“Oh, he’ll love that. Though I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already got a collection of his own medals from back in the day.”
“Still, I think he’d tell us we did well.”
“He totally would,” Hal agreed, reaching out to ruffle Ize’s hair.
Their steps quickened, eager to share this moment with the man who had left the Union — his old comrades and the familiar roads — all behind to travel with them. This story, they knew, would make for a meaningful gift.
◆
Arriving at the Adventurers’ Guild, Hal and Ize were promptly approached by a staff member, who led them to the Guild Master’s office.
As they stepped inside, they found not one but three figures awaiting their arrival — the Guild Master, the Deputy Guild Master, and a third, unfamiliar man.
“Ah, you’re here. Perfect timing,” the Guild Master said before turning toward the third man. “They’re the ones.”
“Very well,” the man said, his tone professionally neutral. He stepped forward, carrying a neatly bundled stack of papers, and extended it toward Hal. “Here, please take this.”
Hal accepted the bundle with a hint of hesitation.
“What is this?” he asked, his voice tinged with both curiosity and disbelief.
“It’s a list compiled by the Merchants’ Guild,” the man explained. “It details the major trade companies operating in the Kingdom of Tajellia. The ones with a check mark are particularly known for handling tea leaves. The information is as accurate and up-to-date as our network can provide.”
“You’re just giving this to me? Are you sure?”
The Guild Master let out a hearty laugh. “Take it, Hal. Better this than wandering Tajellia aimlessly, wouldn’t you agree? Besides… this might even help you track down your father.”
“Wow… thank you so much!”
Hal proceeded to flip through the pages, and saw that it contained not only the companies’ locations but also their specialties.
[This is incredible!] Hal thought, his grin widening. [This is going to lead us to some of the best food in Tajellia!]
As if sensing the trajectory of his thoughts, Ize tilted her head and caught the gleam of excitement in his eyes. Narrowing her gaze playfully, she let a small smile tug at her lips.
After another round of thanks and a polite farewell, the merchant excused himself. The Guild Master then motioned for them to sit.
“Now, onto the main matter,” he began. “Once you’ve signed these documents, we’ll release your payment. The funds come from the Blood Bear’s bounty, split between the Union and our Guild. The amount has been divided accordingly based on the details of the reports. Hal, since you engaged the creature directly, your share is slightly larger. But it’s worth noting — Ize, you’re receiving a portion as well.”
“Me too?” Ize asked, her expression wide-eyed with surprise.
“Yes, of course,” the Deputy Guild Master interjected. “Honestly, I wanted to allocate more to recognize your efforts in shielding two horsebuses with your barriers, but…” His tone turned pointed as his sharp eyes darted to the Guild Master. “Since there was no formal request for protection or rescue, the Guild’s policies tie our hands.”
The Guild Master raised his hands in a placating gesture, shrugging as if to say there was nothing to be done.
With a faint sigh, the Deputy Guild Master pulled out two document sheets and slid them across the desk toward Hal and Ize.
The duo picked up the sheets and scanned the title, which read plainly enough: “Blood Bear Bounty.”
The lettering was precise, but Hal’s brows furrowed as he skimmed its contents. Something about the arrangement struck him as unusual, and he gave the Guild Master with a questioning look.
“As far as I understand, processing bounties like this is typically handled at the time of report. What’s different this time?”
“Ah, well,” the Guild Master started, searching for the right words. “Consider this an apology of sorts — not from us, mind you, but on behalf of the previous hunting team.”
“They missed one, you see,” the Deputy Guild Master added. “Declared the area safe after taking down a single Blood Bear, completely unaware that another one existed. Their negligence cost two passengers their lives. If the situation had spiraled further — if both horsebuses had been wiped out — the financial and reputational damage to the Union and the Guild would’ve been catastrophic. This payout is… not quite hush money. Let’s call it a gesture to smooth things over.”
“I see…” Hal nodded slowly. “Well, I understand.”
Without hesitation, he signed his document, and Ize followed suit.
A few moments later, a staff member entered, carrying a tray with two small pouches of coins.
Handing them over to Hal and Ize in turn, the Guild Master added,
“We’ve taken the liberty of converting the sum into Tajellian currency. Normally, you’d receive Lazulseed coins, but I doubt they’d be much use to you abroad.”
“That’s a thoughtful touch. We very much appreciate it,” Hal replied, bowing his head before checking his pouch’s contents.
“And there’s one more thing — Hal, congratulations. As of today, you’re ranked E.”
Hal blinked, his head snapping up in surprise. “Huh? Already?”
“Of course! Taking down a Blood Bear is worth more than fifty F-rank jobs combined. You’ve earned it.”
“Wow… Thank you,” Hal said, his voice a mixture of gratitude and disbelief.
“Congrats, Hal!” Ize chimed in. “I wonder if I’ll ever catch up to you…”
The Deputy Guild Master’s gaze softened as he turned toward Ize. “Don’t you worry, li’l Ize. Records of your contributions are being kept. If you continue on this path and your skills are recognized when you come of age, you may even be eligible to skip a rank.”
“Really!? I’ll do my best!”
“Just keep at it — but don’t push yourself too hard!” The Deputy Guild Master produced a basket brimming with wrapped sweets, handing it to Ize. “Here — a little something extra for you. Come back to visit anytime, hmm?”
“I will! And I’ll bring souvenirs next time!”
As they turned to leave, the Deputy Guild Master’s voice followed them, quieter now but laden with sincerity.
“Being an adventurer is dangerous work. If you find another dream to chase in Tajellia, don’t hesitate to pursue it. You’ve got a bright future ahead of you.”
“If that happens, I’ll let you know right away, Mister Ise!”
“Good,” he replied with a gentle smile. “I look forward to hearing from you.”
After waving goodbye to the Guild Master and Deputy Guild Master, Ize and Hal stepped out of the Guild.
And now, their business in Abrol was complete.
On their walk back to the inn, Ize let out a soft sigh, her voice wistful as she said, “Tonight will be our last here… When we were first summoned to this kingdom, all I wanted was to leave. But now… I think I’d like to come back someday.”
“Right…” Hal nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe we could return eventually — take the eastern route back once the Deluge passes. What do you think?”
“…Hal.”
“W-what’s up, Ize?”
“You do realize I said exactly the same thing yesterday while you were sampling every drink you could, right?”
Hal froze, his hand instinctively scratching the back of his head. “D-did you?”
“So you weren’t listening after all.” Ize sighed, shaking her head. “Oh, by the way…”
“Y-yeah?”
“The innkeeper’s serving Blood Bear steaks tonight.”
“Really? That’s awesome!”
“…You’re not getting any wine to go with it.”
Hal’s enthusiasm dimmed in an instant. “W-what?”
“Just for tonight,” Ize said firmly, crossing her arms. “Can you manage that, Hal?”
Hal slumped slightly under her determined gaze. “Y-yeah… I can.”
“Good. This is the meat we helped hunt, you know — it’s bound to taste incredible, even without wine.”
Hal sighed, offering a sheepish grin. “R-right.”
For Hal, this was entirely his own doing — a lesson in restraint, or as an old saying went: “What goes around, comes around.”
◆
That evening, the innkeeper unveiled the much-anticipated centerpiece of their meal: a generous cut of Blood Bear steak.
The dish, though rustic, held the quiet elegance of a cask of perfectly aged wine.
Upon slicing into it, juices pooled on the plate, carrying a scent as aromatic as fine vintage.
“…So GOOD!”
“Mmmm!”
The exclamations burst forth before either could stop themselves, and after that, they ate in near silence, focusing all their senses on their steak as if trying to telepathically with them.
Hal even found himself oddly grateful for Ize’s punishment, which kept him from watering down this experience with wine.
“Ize…”
“Yes, Hal?”
“One day, we’ll hunt us another Blood Bear — by ourselves.”
“We will,” Ize replied with a small nod. “That’ll be one of our goals.”
“Better than just getting stronger for strength’s sake, huh?”
“Doing it for food feels more… us.”
“Totally.”
They nodded to each other, and for a moment, they simply sat there, letting the idea settle between them.
In this world, full of danger and uncertainty, power and fame weren’t what they wanted from this pursuit of strength. What they sought was simpler, purer — the best food they could sink their teeth into. That was just the right thing for them.
Ize’s gaze drifted back to her empty plate, where the faint iridescence of the steak’s juices caught the light, shimmering faintly like a rainbow.
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