#014. The Adventurers Are Too Kind (3)

#014. The Adventurers Are Too Kind (3)

The Hero.

One who topples the great evil plunging the world into torment.

Those who assist such a Hero from the sidelines are the comrades belonging to the so-called Hero Party.

And these comrades cannot accompany the Hero on every single journey.

The place where the great evil resides is, fundamentally, dangerous.

The fatigue and injuries accumulated from long exposure to that danger cannot be easily dispelled.

Few weeks at the least.

Years at the most.

The Hero’s comrades occasionally step down from the main party, joining up with the second-stringers to tackle individual adventures or dedicating themselves to mental and physical recovery.

This was the reason why Pinky, the rabbit-person, folded her long ears and wore a pitiful expression, tugging this way and that at the mage’s robes, clinging to him.

“Ronove. Are you really going down to that backwater village? Let’s just open a dessert shop together in the capital. It’ll definitely be much more fun and rewarding. Won’t it?”

“I cannot. Regardless of other regions, I cannot ignore the summons from Sodom Village.”

“What’s in that hick town? Nothing special, surely.”

“There is. My failure.”

“Failure?”

Ronove, the second-string mage of the Hero Party.

The one who fills the void whenever Merlin, the main mage, needs rest from grueling adventures.

Ronove was not pleased with the eternal number two status and his own circumstances.

There had been many attempts.

Many failures as well.

The abandoned failure in Sodom Village was also one of the byproducts of such failures.

“Pinky. If there were a child who inherited the blood of a mage possessing a high degree of mana control and a swordsman blessed with genius-level intuition, and if that genius could be channeled in a specific direction… what kind of being do you think would be born?”

“An awesome Hero?”

“I had similar thoughts once upon a time. What remains there is a failure in that sense.”

“Hmph. So, there was a woman.”

Ronove’s venomous gaze swept over Pinky.

A hybrid of human and beast.

A rabbit beastkin, used to useful ends through rapid breeding and generational shifts, for the betterment of the species.

A lesser creature.

Not quite an inferior product, but certainly falling short of a true success.

Ronove offered a sardonic smile, sensing Pinky’s jealousy.

“Care to join me? The guild’s backlog of piggy bank requests. Some tiresome tasks, the culling of a few dim-witted dregs, and the branding of the rest for slave labor at the front lines. A chore, perhaps, but we could steal some time alone.”

Beastkins are fiercely possessive.

More so than humans.

If they met, the failed product would certainly die.

He didn’t particularly care.

Wasn’t it inevitable? Disposal, after all.

“Fine!”

Ronove and Pinky.

The second-string mage and the second-string martial artist of the hero’s party utilized the teleportation array bound for the remote town of Sodom.

From the capital of the kingdom to a city near Sodom.

From the city to the town.

The journey was swift.

But neither the guildmaster nor Ronove could foresee the variable that would unfold even in that brief time.

“No piggy bank requests?”

“My deepest apologies. The adventurers have already completed all the piggy bank requests in the vicinity…”

“Did the vice-guildmaster leak the information?”

“No. I can vouch for him on that.”

“Fewer slave soldiers for the front lines, then.”

He’d planned to siphon off a few for experimentation; a pity to lose the opportunity to test strong-bodied, resilient female adventurers.

“Never mind the slaves. Find a person for me. A woman named Theresa. Blonde hair.”

“Oh. You know Theresa of Motherhood? I haven’t even introduced you, and you already know her.”

“…Is her name famous?”

“You sought her without knowing? She spearheaded the resolution of the latest piggy bank requests.”

Pinky’s nails elongated.

Ronove’s smile deepened.

“Indeed. That Theresa. Where is she now?”

“Why are you looking for my mom?”

A young boy, just stepping out of the Adventurer’s Guild lounge, stopped in his tracks to ask.

A fearless child possessing a woman’s resilient spirit and a man’s delicate build.

Gazing down into those unwavering eyes, he understood.

That hair color.

That aura.

They were alike.

Fifteen-year-old Teresa Aspiritta, so beautiful.

He wanted to make her like that.

Sixteen-year-old Teresa Aspiritta, so precarious.

“Do you remember me?”

Ronove lowered the deep cowl of his robe.

A smile that, unlike his handsome face, carried a distinctly spiteful air.

A loathsome, ominous smile, like a beast baring its teeth for its prey.

Ronove remembered.

Every year, he’d observed Teresa, Ian, and Anna, assessing their state and progress as failures.

Now, just when he was beginning to deem them hopeless and consider disposal, he received reports via his network left in Sodom of changes in Ian and Teresa.

The reports soon ceased, but he began to bide his time.

He would pick a day and visit the village of Sodom.

That day was today.

He had a vision of what awaited.

A face stricken with fear.

A face contorted with rage.

What else are you going to do to Mom?

I know what you did to Mom.

Such a childish reaction.

“Do you want to be called Father?”

“No.”

Reality was different.

It didn’t match any expectation or anticipation.

No fear, no struggle.

“Mom certainly had no eye for men. To be broken and devastated by a man like you.”

A casual scorn etched on her face.

The following words were equally uncommon.

“You’re not a man fit for Mom. Go back. There’s no place for you here.”

Pinky stood beside her, jaw agape.

It could be heard another way, depending on the listener.

*I’m* the one fit for Mom.

Get lost, old buck.

The violent rabbit-beastman understood it perfectly.

“What’s wrong with Ronove! What do you know about Ronove!”

“Does *he* know how much time he has left?”

“What?! Is that all you got? Just ’cause I’m a guy you think I can’t hit you?”

Before Pinky could swing a fist, three or four adventurers from the guild simultaneously drew their weapons, aiming them at Pinky.

“Get away from the kid.”

“Who dares to lay a hand on a child?”

“An attack on Teresa’s child is considered an attack on us.”

The adventurers’ aggressive response flustered Pinky.

Adventurers weren’t usually like this.

They didn’t get involved, no matter what kind of trouble someone stumbled into.

Justice?

Fairness?

Common sense?

None of it mattered to them.

Was there money in it for me?

Was this a fight worth the financial investment?

But now, these adventurers were interfering in a fight with absolutely no monetary reward.

And against a brawler from the Hero Party’s second string, equipped with gear that was clearly a cut above.

“Someone’s a little short on self-awareness, aren’t we~?”

“Stop, Pinky.”

“No.”

Enraged, Pinky ignored Lonoway’s plea and balanced a single copper coin on her fingertip, then flicked it powerfully towards one of the interfering adventurers.

An assassin’s projectile with enough force to blow someone’s head clean off!

*Tting!*

The coin was struck mid-air by another copper, sent rocketing away.

It had been countered with the exact same force Pinky had imbued it with, perfectly neutralizing the attack.

Catching the spinning coin with astonishing skill was Teresa, a statuesque, large-breasted female swordsman with fierce intensity and hair like the sun.

“Well, well, well. Look who decided to show their filthy face.”

“Teresa.”

Their two figures stretched into the shadows cast by the candle.

“In a way, I’m almost grateful. I was worried seeing that face might dull the edge of my killing intent. No such worries now.”

Not a flicker of hesitation, not a trace of doubt.

What she felt now was pure, unadulterated murderous intent.

A conviction that she could kill without the slightest hesitation.

Teresa shifted her weight.

None of the adventurers realized it was the prelude to an all-out assault.

Most present wouldn’t even be granted the privilege of witnessing the movement.

*Whoosh!*

Like a vehicle speeding down a road without a horn, Teresa reached Lonoway in an instant.

Just before her blade could cleave Lonoway in two, Pinky’s fingernails barely deflected it.

*Clang!*

*Claaang!*

Teresa’s sword mercilessly drove Lonoway and Pinky into its path.

“This is the power of the failure you discarded, Lonoway!”

“Are you insane?! You trying to get us both killed?!”

Pinky panicked.

Her plan to steal Teresa’s breath the moment the attack was blocked had to be abandoned in the face of Teresa’s relentless offense, which didn’t even consider her own safety.

Even if my abdomen is sliced open, so be it.

Even if my arm is cleaved away, it matters not.

Ronowe, I will kill him, no matter what.

A will to kill, absolute.

A resolution of revenge.

Pinky, unwilling to lose Ronowe, focused solely on defense, and the damage accumulated.

‘Incredible power. This is a wild adventurer, you say?!’

The damage she received, even in duels against the strongest members of the Hero Party, was rarely this severe.

That man is a monster of that caliber.

“Enough! Stop this. Do you intend to destroy the guild?!”

After a mere few seconds of engagement, the building groaned and screamed throughout.

Despite the Guild Master’s shout, Theresa’s eyes, dark with intent, showed every sign of attacking again.

Losing Ronowe is truly, truly, *truly* unbearable…

But perhaps… she had to resign herself to it?

It was then, as the rabbit beastkin felt even the premonition of death rising, that a voice broke through.

“Mama.”

“…Ian.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

Theresa’s awareness flickered between the enemy before her and the family she had to protect behind her.

A revenge she had to complete, even if it cost her life.

A life she had to save, even if it cost her life.

What would she risk her life for?

Theresa sheathed her sword.

“Heh heh. Heh heh heh. Is that so? That strength. And that child. The experiment… it wasn’t a failure after all?”

“Shut your trap and get lost. Next time, I’ll kill you.”

“Very well, until next time. Then, I too shall have meticulously prepared my experiment and come to find you.”

Pinky felt her pride wounded.

Not only had she been defeated in strength, but even in the size of her *womanly assets*, she had been bested. And the opponent even had a beautiful young boy, living happily.

She, who had believed herself a successful female who had conquered a superior male, suddenly felt insignificant.

Beside her were no adventurers risking their lives to protect her, no guardians.

“Pinky.”

“Ah, yes.”

Pinky forced a cheerful expression, erasing her gloomy face, and hurried to follow Ronowe as he fled.

Gorgor, only then able to grasp his trembling legs, opened his mouth with difficulty.

“What was that ominous man just now? And the rabbit beastkin who fought Theresa-sama as equals?”

“My ex-husband.”

“A Stage 3 boss.”

“?”

“?”

Question marks appeared on both Theresa and Ian’s faces simultaneously.

Ian belatedly realized the impropriety of his careless answer.

“Thank you. Thanks to all of you, Mother is safe.”

Before an unfavorable topic could arise, Ian hastily offered thanks to the surrounding adventurers.

“What were those things just now? They were brutally ill-mannered.”

“If we’re honest, haven’t we reformed quite a bit?”

“So, what *are* they, really?”

At the repeated question of who *they* were, Ian regretted divulging player knowledge and answered carefully this time.

“They’re the second-string party members of the Hero’s party, allied with nobles, committing crimes, massacres, and human experimentation—evil villains. We defeated them together, so they won’t bother us for a while.”

“…Sounds to me like we’re royally screwed?”

“It’s alright. Your faces are already known, so Mother will take responsibility and protect you.”

Having a bolt driven home that escape was futile, the adventurers regretted their nosy do-gooder act, cursing themselves for stepping on a mine they should have left alone.