Published: February 1, 2026
On the way back after escorting a certain good person safely to his beloved daughter, the carriage journey resumed.
They had planned to avoid going through the Forest of the Lost Souls on the way back, but thanks to Ain’s presence, the one-handed sword user—whose sore backside had reached its limit—uttered a word, suggesting it wasn’t such a risky gamble after all. As a result, rigorous reward negotiations took place, and Jill, who nodded with a “Well, alright then,” decided to take the same route as on the way there.
“Hey, by the way,”
Inside the carriage, the one-handed sword user leaned forward slightly, lifting his backside a little, and looked at Jill.
“Does the nobleman learn swordsmanship?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
The spear user, crunching on some berries, opened his mouth in response to the sudden remark.
The berries were a gift from the client’s wife, who was happily sitting in the coachman’s seat, having safely celebrated her daughter’s birthday. She said it was “an apology because her husband made unreasonable demands.” They were very sour, so the coachmen found them great for waking themselves up.
“If you can fight that well with magic, you don’t need it, right?”
“Well, normally even mages should at least be able to use it to some extent, I guess?”
“There’s nothing you can do if they get close on you.”
Jill only returned a glance, having no idea what they were talking about, as the conversation in the spear user’s party heated up.
Indeed, mages do keep minimal self-defense skills. If monsters suddenly corner them, they can’t afford to stand there chanting spells. It’s enough to fend off one or two hits, and then the party will handle the rest.
“If you and the beastman are with us, there’s nothing to worry about.”
The spear user looked at Jill while rubbing his brow, probably due to the sourness of the berries.
“You should at least carry a knife or something.”
“I have one.”
“Oh, that’s surprising.”
Jill had no intention of letting even Rizel let monsters get through. Besides, knowing Rizel, she’d probably have her mana barrier ready to activate at any moment and be clicking off shots from her Magic Rifle on top of that.
“Still, it’s pointless, though.”
“Yeah, you don’t really reach for the knife in a panic, do you?”
“Even if you want to practice, there’s no chance to.”
The mage, as if saying he struggled too, touched the dagger at his waist. The way he gripped the handle showed he was very familiar with it.
Jill suddenly remembered when he gave a knife to Rizel—not exactly gave, but told her mages usually carry one, and she wanted one. He recalled how she awkwardly tried to attach the sheath to her waist, waving her hands around and finally gave up entirely.
“Maybe you should teach her a little?”
“Not cut out for it.”
“Ha ha, true.”
The spear user laughed, probably not seriously.
“Well, I’m not gonna meddle in your education policy.”
“Yeah, but seriously, I’ve seen the nobleman practicing swordsmanship!”
The one-handed sword user insisted it wasn’t a mistake.
He stretched out one hand, then bent his elbow upward, and repeatedly swung downward.
“I swear I saw him doing this while lined up waiting for a quest!”
“Really?”
“Totally!”
Jill wanted to say “How should I know?” But he did know. It was very familiar.
Rizel wanted to be chosen, the chosen one. She put in tireless effort every day, and even asked the client who had pulled out a fishing rod from a certain labyrinth for tips.
Jill didn’t understand at all what drove Rizel so much.
“Right, Ain!”
“…How should I know?”
But rather than explaining all that, it was better if people thought Jill was just bad at swordsmanship. There was no connection to appearances or such about Rizel getting into fishing. It was a fact, and that was fine. He just didn’t want to explain it out loud from the start.
Frowning at the one-handed sword user’s noisy insistence, Jill closed his eyes, bracing for the long carriage ride.