Chapter 31 : The City of Echoes and Expectations

The city had a cold, imposing appearance, but inside, it was hotter and more passionate than anything.

Like small worker ants in a giant anthill, the citizens busily roamed here and there, day in and day out.

There were shouts, the sound of feet pounding on the dirt, the rustling of fur from animals for sale, and so on.

As soon as I passed through the city gate, such sounds echoed ceaselessly from the market that lined the walls on both sides.

These were sounds that Rachel had never heard in her life.

The closest thing she knew was the sound of children sweeping through the village streets.

But even then, once the children disappeared, silence would instantly fall, and only the occasional grumble of an adult scolding could be heard.

But the city was different.

If the sound on one side decreased, the sound on the other side would rise.

When the sound on that side died, the other side would regain its life and vibrancy.

It felt like a stew constantly bubbling on the fire.

It was only natural that Rachel, who loved Sophie’s cooking, would enjoy such bustling city noise.

“Daddy! Daddy! Over there! Let’s go there!”

“Okay, okay. Don’t bounce around too much.”

Rachel held Jonan’s hand, snorting with excitement, and pointed toward the market.

Fortunately, Jonan held her hand tightly, preventing her from dashing off.

Jonan noticed how Rachel’s eyes kept scanning the market stalls.

Some were selling fruits and fish, others various tools. There was so much to see—things Rachel, only five years old, had never encountered.

Jonan wanted to take her to the market so she could look around comfortably, but there was still work to be done.

“Daughter, first, Daddy has to do something the Dragon asked of him. How about looking around after that?”

“Huh?”

Rachel’s pupils, initially wide with excitement at the thought of exploring the market, began to tremble with concern.

She desperately wanted to go there, but when she heard the word “Dragon” from her beloved father, she hesitated.

‘I want to go there… but the Dragon!’

“Ugh…”

After agonizing for a while, Rachel finally turned to the side and pointed down the large road that ran through the center of the city.

“Let’s go!”

“O-okay. But it’s not that way.”

“······.”

Jonan, of course, wasn’t heading to the Craystist Count’s residence just yet.

Before doing that, he had to leave Rachel with someone else.

Ring~

“Who is it!”

“It’s Jonan, Mr. Rendel.”

“Aang? What, it’s Jonan?”

The voice that responded was rough, like Gaiser’s. The expression on the person’s face was equally gruff, as if they were rebuking someone who had broken into their house—until they saw Rachel.

The funny thing was, he was the innkeeper.

“Uncle, I’ve been wondering for a while… but don’t customers run away if you talk like that?”

“There’ve been plenty of jerks who just look at my face and leave, so I purposely respond like this! The customers come in just fine!”

Jonan glanced around the inside of the inn. The guests eating their early dinner didn’t look much different from Rendel’s gruff demeanor.

‘There would be more if it weren’t for that.’

The Red Inn, run by Rendel, a former mercenary, was Jonan’s regular place to stay.

When he came to sell goods on behalf of the village, he needed a place to stay for a few days, and Gaiser had recommended it.

Since then, Jonan always stayed here whenever he needed accommodations.

“How many days?”

“I’ll stay for about two days, maybe longer.”

Since the matter was important, Jonan hoped the Count would allow the meeting quickly, though he suspected it wouldn’t be easy due to the rank difference.

“Okay. And the honey pot next to you?”

“It’s not a lump of luggage, and it’s not a honey pot! Rachel!”

“······My daughter.”

“Hahaha! Yes, Miss Honey Pot!”

“Ugh!!”

Seeing Rachel’s embarrassed reaction, she directed her frustration at the innocent wooden floor.

Rendel, watching her, threw a wooden tag to Jonan.

“You know the rules, right?”

“No fighting, breakfast and dinner at 7 o’clock. And…”

“That’s enough! And stop Miss Honey Pot from playing with that fist!”

“Ra! Chel!”

“Hahaha.”

“Uncle, I have a favor to ask.”

Rendel, stopping his laughter at Jonan’s serious tone, looked at him curiously.

“I need to go somewhere for a while. Could you take care of Rachel for a bit?”

“Huh?”

“Huh?”

Rendel looked at Jonan, confused, while Rachel shot him a look that seemed to say, traitor.

But there was no other choice. Among the people Jonan knew in the city, Rendel was the only one he could trust with Rachel.

“I’m fine with it! Talking with a honey pot.”

“Ah, Daddy… how could you do this to me…”

“I’m sorry, Rachel. Daddy needs to see someone, so can you wait a little?”

Rachel trembled and reached out her small hand, but Jonan hurriedly left the inn.

Instantly, silence fell, and the small noises of people outside crept in through the window cracks.

“·········.”

‘She’s not crying, though?’

Most children would cry if they were left alone with this kind of uncle at her age. No, all of them would.

But Rachel didn’t cry, as if to say, I’m Jonan’s child.

“Honey pot.”

“······Rachel.”

“Pfft. Yes, Rachel. Are you sad that your dad seems to have abandoned you?”

“·········.”

“Then shall we go see the market secretly from Daddy?”

“Market!! …But Uncle, you have to work.”

“They’ll take care of it.”

Rachel’s gaze followed Rendel’s finger, which pointed at two men nearby.

Both had faces as tough as the innkeeper’s.

“Uh, uh-huh. Then I want to go to the market!”

“That’s right! Shall we go?”

“Yay!”

Rachel and Rendel—despite the 50-year age gap and the difference in appearance—found common ground in the market.

‘······How should I talk when I meet him?’

Jonan, walking down the main road that ran through the city toward the Count’s residence, was deep in thought.

He was a 3rd-class knight named Failer, and surprisingly, there were many ways to meet him.

The simplest method would be to ask the guards at the Count’s residence to call for Failer, but there were also ways to reach him through connections within the Count’s household.

So, the issue wasn’t meeting him, but what to say once they did.

‘I can’t mention Sir Ras right away… But I don’t have enough evidence to say that Lady Aria’s condition will improve…’

Jonan didn’t doubt the Dragon God’s power.

The ability to control nature that He demonstrated was enough to make everyone in Estel Village believe.

But the problem was that only the residents of Estel Village had witnessed His power.

‘Right now, the Cheongnyongsingyo has no external image.’

There was no external image, and only Jonan and Rachel officially constituted the religion.

Besides, to Failer, he was just a hunter from Estel Village, not a priest who could wield divine power.

“In the end, it seems most important to somehow take Sir Failer to the Dragon God…”

As Jonan was lost in thought, the ramparts of the Craystist family’s mansion came into view.

It separated the mansion from the rest of the city.

Underneath it, there were nearly as many guards as there were at the city gate, all of them looking worn out.

Jonan went straight to them.

The Craystist Count’s policy had long allowed commoners to approach the mansion.

“Hello.”

“······? What is it?”

The guards, who had been standing watch with spears, eyed Jonan suspiciously. Despite their vigilance, their exhaustion was evident.

“The Count is currently busy.”

The guards spoke the prepared words, as if many visitors like Jonan had tried to gain access.

But Jonan wasn’t trying to see the Count—he was looking for Failer.

‘Meeting the Count will come later, after I’ve persuaded Sir Failer.’

“I want to meet Sir Failer, the 3rd-class knight, not the Count.”

“Sir Failer?”

The guards looked puzzled at Jonan’s request.

It was easier to meet Failer compared to the Count, so Jonan nodded quietly.

However, the answer from the guards was far from what he expected.

“You can’t meet him.”

“Yes?”

The response stunned Jonan.

“Sir Failer is busy assisting the Count.”

Jonan quickly thought and pulled out the letter Failer had sent to Estel Village before his visit.

He folded the bottom part and showed the guards Failer’s name.

“This is a letter from Sir Failer. I need to see him with this. Please tell him.”

But the guards just kept refusing, without even considering delivering the message.

“Ah, I told you it’s not possible!”

“Please just tell him the story!”

“Get lost! If you keep this up, I’ll consider it a threat.”

“Isn’t it the Craystist family’s policy not to refuse visitors? I don’t want to meet the Count, just Sir Failer!”

“Policy? Hah, do you think the Count cares about that now that Lady Aria is down?”

“What? You now…”

“An aristocrat acting like this just because his daughter is ill—it’s ridiculous. But I guess it doesn’t matter because the paychecks are still coming through.”

“Sir Ras told me to chase away all the visitors, so my job’s easy, heh.”

Jonan, embarrassed by the guard’s rudeness, suddenly saw a figure approaching from behind the gate. He quickly raised his voice.

“Sir Failer!”

“What? Sir Failer?”

As the guard turned, a low growl echoed from inside the gate.

“What did I hear?”

Failer, clearly in a foul mood, appeared in front of them.