Chapter 16 : Collector Isolde

Cape.

On the battlefields where I fought, it was practically a necessity.

A military cape held symbolic meaning as a mark of going to war, and it was often used for camouflage or to block visibility.

Even beyond practical uses, a cape draped over the shoulders was useful for enhancing one’s appearance.

So, I reasoned that visiting a clothing shop would easily yield a cape that would suit Rona’s taste.

But…

“…Grrr.”

“Yeah, too long,” I agreed.

When we entered the shop, we found only items sized for adults.

Hoping for an alternative, I asked the shop clerk, “Anything in a smaller size?”

“Sorry, we mainly stock clothing for adventurers,” they replied.

Fair enough. Children were rarely adventurers.

Ordering a child-sized cape just for Rona would be impractical.

Buying one elsewhere was an option, but that would mean missing her birthday—a problem in itself.

“Rona, purryeok purryeok, cape?” she asked, her expression turning glum as if she sensed the reality.

Comforting her, I continued searching the market, but every shop gave the same response.

Time was slipping away, and my goal of making Rona happy was slowly sinking.

Desperate for a solution, I tried to console her with a last resort.

“Rona, it’ll take time, but if we ask Mama to make one…”

If I brought materials to Erina, she could surely craft a cape perfect for Rona.

But mid-sentence, I noticed something strange about Rona’s hair and paused.

Yes, Rona’s hair was glowing blue.

Specifically, the tuft of hair that stuck out, one of her distinct features.

“Hoe?” she gasped.

What’s that?

Why was her hair suddenly glowing? Was this another unique ability of the Hero?

If it was an ability, why now of all times?

“Bbiriri!” Rona exclaimed.

As her glowing tuft pointed in a direction, she turned and darted off, toddling dodo-do.

“Rona?!” I called.

“Rona bbiriri! This way!” she shouted.

I don’t know what’s happening, but she’s heading that way.

Hurrying to keep her in sight, I followed her to a secluded corner of the market—a narrow alley between buildings, a cramped gap.

At the end stood a tent, unlike the shops we’d seen. It had no sign and no trace of visitors besides us.

“Here!” Rona declared.

Her glowing tuft pointed inside the tent.

Unsure what this phenomenon was, I guessed something important was inside. Warily, I stepped forward.

If most attacks couldn’t harm Rona, the direction her hair indicated likely wouldn’t either, I reasoned.

“Excuse me,” I said.

“Shiny-hamnya~” Rona chirped.

Entering the tent, we saw shelves lined with items. Dusty objects—seemingly ancient—greeted us.

Worn trinkets, dolls, ceramics… old items that looked of questionable value at first glance.

“Antiques?” I muttered.

“Excuse me. These are relics, far more valuable than mere antiques,” a voice replied.

As I voiced my thoughts, someone emerged from the back.

Bracing myself, I faced them. The figure—a shadow—chuckled, swirling a pipe to scatter smoke.

“Aren’t you a bit too tense? If anyone should be wary, it’s me, facing uninvited guests who barged in,” they said.

A long-haired woman in a conical hat.

Her daring outfit—revealing at the chest and with slits exposing her legs—exuded the allure often spoken of in tales.

Yet I couldn’t help but feel wary.

Seduction was a tactic soldiers were trained to guard against, and moreover, she gave off an unusual vibe.

“…Are you the owner here?” I asked.

“Well, I’d rather ask about your identity before revealing mine,” she replied.

Hoo, she exhaled a cloud of pipe smoke.

As the smoke obscured my vision, I sensed a presence behind me and quickly turned.

“How did you get in here?” she asked. “This is a secret place, hidden so ordinary people can’t find it.”

I hadn’t sensed her approach. No, she’d likely moved the moment she noticed us.

I faintly detected mana from her, mingling with the scattered smoke, making her form blur.

Probably a type of illusion, like the one hiding this shop from the outside.

“…Would you believe it was by chance?” I ventured.

“Pfft, you call that an answer?” she scoffed.

She laughed, as if amused by the absurdity.

Her confidence suggested the barrier she’d set was no small feat.

Naturally, breaching it would make her wary of us.

“Hammami!” Rona exclaimed.

Noticing the woman, Rona’s eyes sparkled, and she approached. The woman chuckled and subtly widened the distance between us.

“Well, I don’t know how you found this place, but since you brought a child, I can’t assume hostility. I’ll treat you as guests for now,” she said.

Click, click.

Her heels echoed sharply as she settled at a nearby empty shelf, introducing herself.

“Nice to meet you, guests. I’m the owner of this relic gallery… call me Isolde. Relic Collector Isolde,” she said.

“I’m Logan. This is Rona,” I replied.

“Rona!” Rona chirped.

“Hehe, what a cute kid,” Isolde said.

Her half-lidded eyes turned to Rona.

As if memorizing her appearance. As if recalling something from it.

“White hair and blue eyes… a face that brings back nostalgic memories,” she mused.

Did Rona’s appearance remind her of someone she knew?

As I pondered this, Rona, staring at her, remembered her purpose and vigorously waved her arms.

“Hammami, purryeok purryeok!” she exclaimed.

“Oh my, she’s saying something, but her tongue’s so short, I can’t quite catch it~ Does her daddy understand?” Isolde teased.

“We’re looking for a cape as a birthday gift,” I explained.

I didn’t know what hammami meant, but it likely referred to her.

Sensing a possibility, I tentatively shared our purpose.

“You seem to collect all sorts of items. Could we find a cape here?” I asked.

“Purryeok purryeok!” Rona added.

“A cape…” Isolde mused.

Hoo, she inhaled and exhaled pipe smoke.

After a brief silence, she casually responded, “Well, I’ve got some. This place houses all kinds of relics, after all.”

“Even one sized for a child?” I pressed.

“Of course. If you pay a fair price, I’m willing to part with it. A fair price worthy of a relic, that is,” she said.

“…Unfortunately, my funds are a bit tight,” I admitted.

“Pfft, money? I’m not the type to value that,” she laughed.

Not valuing money?

In the Empire’s capitalist society, that was an odd statement, but she continued regardless.

“My hobby and trade is collecting relics. If you want something from me, you need to offer a relic of equal value. Say, a treasure looted from ruins or a family heirloom…” she explained.

“…I don’t have anything like that,” I said.

“Well, you never know. Relics are often undervalued in the hands of those who don’t recognize their worth,” she replied.

Pointing at me, she spoke with an intrigued tone, “Show me what you’ve got. You might have something that catches my eye.”

What I’ve got…

Ironically, all I could think of was the purse with the allowance Erina gave me.

Searching my pockets just in case, my hand brushed a hard object.

Pulling it out, I found the blue-glowing stone Rona had gifted me before and the red stone she’d picked up on our way to the market.

They almost felt like gems… but surely, stones found on the road couldn’t hold that much value.

“Wait,” Isolde said.

As I moved to pocket them, she leapt up, approached, and grabbed my wrist.

She examined the two stones in my hand closely.

Her usual nonchalant demeanor crumbled.

“Where did you get these…?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“Rona picked them up on the road,” I replied calmly.

“On the road? Both of them?” she pressed.

“Yes,” I confirmed.

“Ha, you expect me to believe that…?” she scoffed.

She glared at me, disbelieving.

But then, as if something clicked, her gaze slowly shifted to Rona.

After a moment, she muttered, “No wonder she looked familiar. So that’s how it is.”

“Mng?” Rona stared blankly, not understanding.

Suddenly, Isolde snatched the stones from my hand and strode deeper into the shop.

“You wanted a cape, right? Wait a sec,” she said.

“Alright,” I agreed.

Whatever it was, the stones seemed valuable to her.

If they could be used in negotiation, waiting was worth it.

Browsing the surrounding items to pass the time, I soon saw Isolde return, holding a red cloth.

“Here, what you were looking for,” she said, handing it to me.

“…Isn’t it too big for a child?” I asked.

“It’s a relic. Did you expect something ordinary?” she retorted.

Approaching Rona, she draped the cloth around her neck.

After a moment, the fabric, which had trailed on the floor, visibly shrank, adjusting to reach just below Rona’s waist.

“…A magic tool?” I asked.

“Yep, a magic cape that adjusts to the wearer’s size. Pretty good for a gift for your daughter, don’t you think?” she said.

A cape that resizes to its user.

Indeed, it would serve Rona now and as she grew, making it an ideal gift to remember for years.

The question was whether Rona liked its design.

“Purryeok, purryeok…” Rona muttered.

Swishing the cape around her, she soon beamed and proudly showed off her cape-clad self.

“Purryeok purryeok! Rona! Purryeok purryeok!!” she shouted.

“Yeah, flutter flutter,” I said.

“Ehehe~” she giggled.

Was swirling the cape that much fun?

Relieved that Rona was happy, I quietly thanked Isolde, “Thanks for showing us a fine item.”

“No, no, I’m the one who should be thankful,” she replied.

Glancing at the two stones in her hand, her eyes held a complex emotion—not joy at obtaining something desired, but a bittersweet tint.

Yes, like eyes soaked in past nostalgia.

“Are those stones that valuable?” I asked.

“To you, they’re worthless. Probably only I in this world would value them,” she said.

To my concerned question, she gave a wry smile and exhaled pipe smoke.

Perhaps due to complex feelings, or maybe relief from unburdening her heart.

“I’ll come back if we find more,” I offered.

Having benefited from her help, I wanted to maintain a good relationship if possible.

At my words, Isolde chuckled and waved her pipe.

“Pfft, you don’t even know what these are, and you think you’ll find more?” she teased.

“If we found two, it’s hardly a coincidence,” I countered.

“…Fair point. I’ll keep a little hope, then,” she said.

With that, the conversation ended.

As we prepared to leave after finishing our business, Rona waved at Isolde and called, “Hammami bye-bye!”

“Sure, little one. Grow into a fine adult who suits that cape,” Isolde replied.

Her initial wariness faded, and she looked at Rona fondly.

Relieved, I stepped back into the street, recalling the term Rona used for Isolde and asking, “Rona, what does hammami mean?”

“Hammami?” she repeated, looking puzzled.

Scanning the surroundings, her eyes lit up as she spotted an elderly woman passing by and shouted, “Hammami!”

“…Grandma?” I asked.

Grandma, as in Isolde?

Confused, I glanced back at the path we’d come from, only to find the narrow alley gap completely gone.

The path had vanished in the blink of an eye.

If she hadn’t mentioned a barrier, I’d have thought I’d seen a mirage—it was that perfect an illusion.

“…Her appearance was an illusion too,” I muttered.

What a woman, unpredictable from start to finish.

But if Rona saw through her true nature, that’s remarkable in its own way.

Hoo.

After the unexpected guests left, Isolde sat alone in her gallery, lost in thought.

Gazing fondly at the stones they’d claimed to have found “by chance.”

“Come to think of it, the time is near,” she mused.

Yes, hundreds of years had passed already.

By now, the successor of her former master would have appeared, and their followers would gradually emerge in this world.

Realizing that such a young girl would face them struck her as somewhat absurd.

Could that little girl truly become humanity’s savior? Would the successor of her former master and their followers, aware of her existence, allow her time to grow?

“Well, whatever happens to the world’s fate, it hardly matters now,” she said.

A remnant of a bygone era would merely observe.

If someone found the traces of her former master scattered across this once-war-torn land… she’d offer a small token of gratitude in return.