Chapter 11: The Golden Bell and the Spirits’ Laughter

Chapter 11

Suddenly, the man’s left ear, adorned with a peculiar earring, caught Hay’s attention. It was the size of a pea, dark blue, and resembled an insect’s eye.

“What a load of nonsense,” the man scoffed, turning abruptly and heading towards the mercenaries. It seemed he, too, was one of them.

Hay looked displeased. He stared intently at the man’s black-haired back, then sighed, turned his head, and asked Renki,

“Are you alright?”

“It didn’t hurt much,” Renki said, smiling brightly.

‘So naive…’ Hay thought with a chuckle. ‘Well, he’s still young, so I suppose that’s to be expected.’

Just then, the server brought their beer and milk. Though Hay hadn’t asked for it, the milk was warm. It seemed the air was growing colder as the sun began to set. ‘Warm milk helps you sleep well, and it’s nice.’

Hay took a long swig, draining half his beer. It was flat and not cold, yet it tasted good. ‘I miss the draft IPA I used to enjoy.’

“Ah, the Captain’s here!”

“Money! The money’s arrived!”

At that moment, the mercenaries, who had been loudly singing, erupted into cheers.

Hay, who had been sitting with his back to the entrance, instinctively glanced behind him. A tall, powerfully built man with dark blonde hair, nearly two meters in height, entered first, laughing heartily.

“Yes, the money’s here, you rascals!”

The man was quite young. Though an untamed beard grew haphazardly, he appeared to be around Hay’s age.

Following him was a mercenary with orange hair, reminiscent of the scorching sun. Round spectacles concealed her indifferent, cold eyes, which were amber like a tiger’s. With her short-cropped back hair, Hay had initially mistaken her for a man, but upon closer inspection, it was clearly a woman. Her facial and bodily contours were distinctly feminine. Female mercenaries were rare, so his gaze was drawn to her naturally. She was beautiful, certainly, but it was the extraordinary aura emanating from her that truly captivated him. She didn’t seem like an ordinary woman.

“Captain! Give us the money already!”

“We’re getting dizzy waiting!”

“Stop whining! I’ll give it to you when I’m ready! Is there no spot for me?”

At the Captain’s words, the mercenaries quickly made room for him at the head of the table. They did the same for the woman.

“Clear it,” she commanded curtly. Despite the lack of a subject, the mercenaries on either side of her understood perfectly, clearing dishes to make space on the table. Among them was the black-haired fellow. The woman pulled out a handful of money pouches from her backpack and tossed one to each mercenary. Cheers erupted from those who received the pouches.

“Wow! How long has it been since I’ve held money like this!”

“I need to get my sword sharpened this time! I heard the blacksmith here does an excellent job!”

“Oh? Should I get mine done too? My blade chipped a bit this last time.”

The mercenaries were truly thrilled. Hay and Renki watched them, amused.

“Bri, try this. It’s delicious.” The cursed black-haired man tore a chicken leg with his hands and offered it to the woman. She bit into it with gusto. ‘Perhaps I should have ordered chicken too,’ Hay mused. Watching her eat made his mouth water. He suddenly craved seasoned fried chicken.

“Your food has arrived,” the server announced, bringing their meal right on time. It was a flat iron steak, marinated in olive oil and seasoned with pepper and basil. Though Hay hadn’t specified the doneness, it was perfectly cooked. It was thicker than he expected, too. The smoky aroma of the steak alone was enough to double his appetite. When another server brought roasted vegetables, their small table quickly became crowded.

“Another beer, please,” Hay said, handing his empty glass to the server.

“Wow, it looks delicious!” Renki exclaimed.

“Eat plenty,” Hay replied. “If it’s not enough, don’t hesitate to say so.”

“This is already a lot!”

“You need to eat more.”

“Because at my age, even eating meat all day isn’t enough?”

“You got it,” Hay chuckled, cutting his steak. Renki, too, skillfully cut and ate his meat.

As Captain Cambern’s mercenaries had claimed, it was indeed delicious. Perhaps even more so because it was flat iron steak. Still, the flavor couldn’t compare to the cuisine of 21st-century Earth.

“I’m craving soy garlic chicken,” Hay murmured.

“Huh?” Renki asked.

“It’s nothing,” Hay said with a faint smile and a shrug.

The server brought Hay’s beer. After that, the two focused solely on their meal, and their plates were quickly emptied. It was just as Renki popped the last piece of meat into his mouth with his fork.

“You hit someone and then glare at them?!” A quarrel erupted between a drunken townsman and a mercenary. The aggressor was the middle-aged townsman. The mercenary wore a dumbfounded expression, which quickly turned to burning fury, his eyes blazing.

“No, old man! I said I was sorry! Did I bump into you on purpose? Huh? Was it on purpose?!”

“This punk, ever since earlier—!”

The mercenary’s collar was seized. It seemed clear that if a fight broke out, the townsman would be the one getting beaten, so Hay wondered what kind of audacity he possessed to provoke a mercenary. The atmosphere grew increasingly tense.

“Are you done eating?” Hay asked Renki.

Renki, watching the men begin to shove each other vigorously, nodded emphatically. Hay rose from his seat.

“Let’s go quickly. Don’t want to get caught in the crossfire.”

Renki also stood up, but suddenly, there was a loud crash and clatter. Hay thought the townsman had been beaten, but to his surprise, the opposing mercenary was sprawled on the floor, having demolished the table the townsman had been drinking at.

It wasn’t the townsman who had thrown the mercenary. It was the orange-haired woman. She was just straightening her posture, having seemingly just slammed the mercenary down.

“Get up,” the woman commanded firmly, beckoning with a flick of her finger. The mercenary immediately scrambled to his feet, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. Despite being thrown quite violently, he hadn’t made a single sound of pain.

‘How tough is he?’

The woman spoke again. “Apologize.”

“I’m sorry, Vice-Captain!”

“Not to me.”

“Ah!” The mercenary turned and politely apologized to the townsman.

The woman took some money from her pouch and handed it to the server—a single gold coin. To the bewildered townsman, she said, “My subordinate overindulged in drink and caused a disturbance. Please, calm yourself. I will cover your drinks and food.”

Then, turning to the server, the woman added, “Meggy, this will compensate for the broken furnishings. With the remaining money, please buy a round of drinks for everyone here. I apologize for disrupting the atmosphere.”

*Cling-clang.* She even rang the golden bell, a grand gesture. ‘Huh, that’s pretty cool.’

****

They were on their way back to the inn.

“Master,” Renki began.

“Hmm?”

“If that female mercenary hadn’t intervened earlier, would that old man have been beaten by the male mercenary?”

“Probably, yes.”

“The old man seemed weak, so why did he pick a fight with a mercenary? Didn’t he know he’d get hurt? Or was he brave?” Renki looked genuinely curious.

“It was far from bravery,” Hay replied.

“Then why?”

“When people get drunk, they often lose their sense of fear.”

“Do you lose your sense of fear when you’re drunk, Master?”

“No.”

“No?”

“When I get drunk, I just fall asleep. I’ve never bothered anyone. I just drift off when I get sleepy,” Hay said with a shrug.

He suddenly recalled company dinners back on Earth. He had never managed to stay until the end of a gathering, as drowsiness always overtook him when he drank. Once he started feeling sleepy, he would simply announce his departure, regardless of his boss or anyone else. There was one time a damn petty boss, who took offense to this, kept refilling his glass, insisting he ‘die at the company dinner’ if he must, forcing Hay to stay. But from the very next dinner, that same boss would push him to go home first, looking utterly disgusted. Hay still didn’t know why. He wished he’d asked before he died.

“Do you find alcohol tasty, Master?” Renki asked, a naive question filled with childlike curiosity.

“It’s delicious.”

“But it’s just bitter,” Renki said, scrunching his brows in distaste. Hay couldn’t help but laugh at the expression.

“If you get used to drinking it when you’re older, you might come to like it too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Oh, wait, have you ever had alcohol before?”

“Yes.”

“When? How old are you, how could you have had alcohol?”

“My father gave me a sip once… Ah!” Renki clapped a hand over his mouth, as if he’d made a mistake. He looked troubled, glancing at Hay, acting as if he’d done something wrong.

“If your father gave it to you, then… well.” ‘That’s understandable.’ A wind blew. The sun was just beginning to set, making the air chilly. It felt like it should be getting warmer soon, but it wasn’t.

“Speaking of which, it’s almost Nuridal,” Hay mused. On Earth, that would be June. In Korea, temperatures would typically start rising around this time, gradually becoming warmer. It would be hot during the day but perfect for activities. However, the northeastern part of the Chaepel Kingdom remained dry and chilly year-round.

“As you said, farming in this country is out of the question.” ‘Should I really go to the Western Continent? How advanced would their civilization be?’ Hay hummed a tune, extending one arm into the air. Feeling the wind slip through his fingers, he walked until he found himself in front of the inn. Hay stopped.

“Go on in.”

“Just me? Are you going to train, Master?”

“Yes.”

“Can I come with you?”

“Oh? Why?”

“I’m curious about how you train. Is that not allowed?”

“It’s not that it’s not allowed…”

Hay scratched the back of his neck. He had never shown anyone his training before. In truth, there wasn’t much to see. There were no set movements like a swordsman’s, nor was it as flashy as a magician’s spells. To others, Hay’s training would likely appear as nothing more than standing still or meditating.

“Want to see?”

“Yes!” Renki’s eyes sparkling brightly. His two fists, still holding his cloth bag, were now clenched tightly in front of him. Hay burst out laughing.

“There’s no reason I can’t show you. But it’ll be boring. I warned you, alright?”

“Yes! It’s okay if it’s boring!”

Hay led Renki to the grove of trees near the small plaza. The sky, heavily blanketed by the sunset, now merged with the night, dyeing itself a deep violet. The children who had been playing there were no longer visible.

Instead of setting down his staff, Hay handed it to Renki. He then removed his shoes, socks, and cloak, placing them where he had left them yesterday.

“Don’t just stand there; find a suitable place to sit,” Hay instructed. Renki looked around, then settled down with his knees drawn up beneath the tree where Hay had placed his shoes.

Now that he was about to begin his training, having an audience made him unexpectedly self-conscious. Especially since that audience was watching him with such a look of anticipation.

“Ahem,” Hay cleared his throat, his face flushing with embarrassment.

“It’s really nothing special.”

“It’s okay!”

‘I’m not okay.’ Hay pouted, casting a sidelong glance. He swept back his long hair, took a deep breath, and scuffed his feet on the dirt ground. The earth was damp and cold. After shaking out his limbs as if warming up, he closed his eyes. Renki watched him, clutching the staff.

His training was the same as yesterday. The wind seemed particularly strong today. The sensation of it against his skin felt pleasant. He didn’t feel bad. As he hummed a tune, he thought he could hear sounds of laughter from his surroundings. The spirits. It was as if the spirits were sitting on his shoulders, clutching their bellies, rolling over, and cackling. ‘Stop laughing already.’ ‘Am I really that tone-deaf?’ He felt a bit offended. He subtly opened his eyes and glanced at Renki, whose expression was rigid. It seemed Hay’s humming was quite unpleasant to hear. ‘I’m genuinely starting to feel insulted.’