Chapter 36: A Glimpse of the Grand Plaza

Sylph froze, as if a mechanism inside them had suddenly malfunctioned.

‘What? Birdbrain? Birdbrain!’

It almost sounded as though Sylph was screaming those words.

Instantly, retaliation struck.

“Kyaaak! Kiyaaaak!”

Sylph lashed out at Hay with the sharp talons of a raptor and the powerful hind legs of a lion.

The force behind the blows was immense, clearly fueled by genuine anger.

“Ah! Ow, that hurts! Alright! I’m sorry! I take back calling you a birdbrain!”

Still, Sylph huffed and puffed, seemingly unappeased.

‘Goodness, what a temper. Who do they take after? Is it even permissible to assault one’s contractor?’

“Master, you were in the wrong. Sylph seems quite hurt.”

“Hmm, well, Sylph, you understood what I meant, didn’t you? Huh?”

Sylph sulkily whipped their head away.

“If you find a good client, I’ll leave you summoned all day so you can play. How does that sound?”

At this, Sylph wagged their lion’s tail playfully. Hay playfully tapped Sylph’s beak.

“If you understand, then go find me a client.”

“Peep!”

With a joyful cry, Sylph transformed into wind and vanished.

“They’d better find a good one.”

“Do you think Sylph will do as instructed?”

“They understand everything I say, so they’ll figure it out and find a good one.”

“But they’re a spirit, after all. What if they bring back something strange?”

*Thwack—*

“Ow!”

Renki rubbed the back of his head, as if he’d been struck by something. Sylph was the culprit.

“I told you to trust them.”

Hay chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. Renki looked aggrieved.

“The Grand Plaza is just a bit further. Shall we go and see Sanchiafel?”

“Oh, yes!”

Renki’s expression brightened instantly, and he replied with renewed vigor. He then walked closely beside Hay, keeping pace with him.

In just two months, he had grown taller, now only a head shorter than Hay.

Though Hay hadn’t measured, it seemed Renki had grown at least three centimeters.

With only half a month left in the year, if he continued growing at this rate, he might be as tall as Hay next year. He might even surpass him.

“You’ll be thirteen soon.”

“Pardon?”

“Your birthday was on the nineteenth of the Sun-Rising Moon, wasn’t it?”

According to Renki’s identification tag, it certainly was.

“Yes, why do you ask?”

Renki looked puzzled, as if asking why Hay would bring it up. Hay simply chewed his bread in silence.

The nineteenth of the Sun-Rising Moon meant only a month remained.

“So you’ll be thirteen.”

In Korean age, that would be fourteen.

Hay recalled being only 150 centimeters tall at that age, making Renki’s growth rate truly astonishing. He himself had shot up nearly ten centimeters a year around the time he entered high school.

Had the spring water also contributed to his height? His body was now completely healthy.

Although slight burn scars remained on his face and back, he could now go without his mask. Yet, for some reason, he still kept his face covered, seemingly disinclined to reveal it.

“What’s wrong? Is there something on my face?”

“Something is on it, alright. Your mask.”

“Pardon?”

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking how you cleverly hide such a handsome face.”

At Hay’s words, Renki laughed bashfully, scratching the back of his neck.

“What good is a handsome face for a s*ave?”

“You’re not denying that you’re handsome, though.”

“Ah, no, that’s not it! Someone like me isn’t handsome; it’s handsome masters like you.”

“Goodness, if I’m handsome, then all the handsome men in the world must be dead.”

‘His standards are truly low if he thinks that.’

‘Or was that just flattery?’

“No, it’s true.”

“You’ve learned to sweet-talk too? You’re all grown up now, truly.”

“I’m telling you, it’s true!”

As he showcased his utterly clumsy flattery, they arrived at the Grand Plaza.

At the entrance to the Grand Plaza stood a triumphal arch, commemorating the first king and the grand general, a founding contributor. Passing through the arched gateway, Sanchiafel came into view beyond the expansive plaza.

Befitting a capital city, the plaza was exceptionally vast, far larger than any other city’s, and bustling with countless people.

Some performers used magic to entertain and earn coins, while fortune-tellers, much like Lexa in Nudan, had set up their stalls to read futures.

A performer dressed in white, covered head to toe in white powder, stood out, pretending to be a living statue.

Mercenaries and storytellers regaled children with tales of adventure, while pairs of soldiers patrolled the Grand Plaza.

“I thought it would be something special, being the capital, but it’s more humble than I expected.”

Renki offered an unexpected observation.

Despite being a plaza better maintained than any other in Cheapel, it seemed it did not quite meet his expectations.

“It is certainly more modest than the capitals of Demidariun or Rakumta.”

“Master, since you’re a mercenary, you must have visited many other countries, right?”

“I’ve been to all seven kingdoms of Serquartz. The most recent one I visited was Sharod.”

Hay said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Sharod Kingdom?”

Renki repeated, his voice hoarse.

“Though, before I met you, I only went to the city of Olemia.”

Hay did not notice the way Renki’s mouth tightened.

“If I follow you, Master, I’ll be able to visit all the other kingdoms too, won’t I?”

“I suppose so. Why? Is there a country you’d like to visit?”

“Hmm, I don’t know? I haven’t really thought about wanting to go anywhere specific.”

“Tell me, if it’s possible, I’ll take you. How about Sharod, the closest one? Or Halasarnim?”

In the Eastern Continent of Serquartz and its seven kingdoms, besides the three previously mentioned kingdoms and Cheapel, there were Grendolin, Halasarnim, and Pamorash.

Sharod was a nation bordering Mejitun, the frontier city they had left half a year ago, and an ally of Cheapel.

Halasarnim, once part of Cheapel’s territory, had seceded from Cheapel three centuries prior due to a princess’s rebellion.

Even though they shared the same royal lineage, their relationship was extremely poor due to the history of rebellion.

One might compare their relationship to that of South and North Korea.

This comparison was not far off, as the two nations had different systems. Cheapel was an absolute monarchy, while Halasarnim was a constitutional monarchy where a parliamentary system had been established two centuries ago.

It ostensibly championed democracy, though it was still a fledgling, incomplete form of it.

“A continental crossing.”

“What? Across the ocean entirely?”

“Yes. The Western Continent would be nice, or Deltroin in the Southern Continent, or even the undiscovered, unknown land of Matillart.”

“Why don’t you just ask me to take you to Srahanila, the city of fairies?”

“Oh, come on, fairies hate humans. Wouldn’t we be shot dead by arrows before even setting foot in Srahanila?”

Renki chuckled, finding his own joke amusing.

“Matillart and Srahanila are places I can’t take you, but I would like to visit Bnenna or Deltroin myself.”

“Really? So, you’ll take me when you go?”

“Where the needle goes, the thread follows, naturally. Well, perhaps not immediately, but if the opportunity arises?”

Suddenly, a few books lying dormant in his inn bag came to mind.

These were books Briana had given him when she left Nudan, after teaching him to read. Among them was a book detailing the history of the three continents of Hysiafon.

It didn’t cover every detail of history, but it provided enough information to understand the differences between the three continents.

The Southern Continent of Deltroin, a land of peace that unified 73 tribes.

The Western Continent of Bnenna, a land of magic and arcane engineering.

Both were lands he wished to visit at least once before he died.

‘As Han Tae-hyun, I never once traveled abroad. Shouldn’t I at least explore this entire world here?’

“If only I had known earlier that Ms. Lamperche was from the Western Continent, I would have asked her more about Bnenna.”

Briana suddenly came to mind.

Hay clicked his tongue in regret and settled onto the curb beside the drainage ditch that marked the boundary between the Grand Plaza and the shopping street. Perhaps because of the cold weather, there was no fishy smell from the water.

“Maybe it’s because of the snow, but it’s quite beautiful.”

Renki sat beside Hay, gazing at Sanchiafel.

“Indeed.”

Hay looked at Renki’s profile and fell into contemplation. This was an issue he had been pondering ever since they left Nudan.

Should he teach Renki spirit magic, or regular magic, or even find a retired knight to instruct him in aura?

Since Hay himself was a spirit user, he could assist Renki if he learned spirit magic, but Hay couldn’t endlessly search for an elf spirit user who could assess Renki’s affinity and become his master.

Hoping to perhaps meet one, he had even acquired an expensive Flame Message Scroll and sent a message to the old geezer, but as always, there was no reply.

‘I don’t particularly want to become a spirit user.’

Since Renki had said that before, magic or aura wouldn’t be bad options. However, both had their pros and cons, making it difficult to make a swift decision.

‘It’s probably best to find out if he’s capable of magic first, right?’

With aura, one could only discover their talent through continuous practice. Even without innate talent, it was a power that could be achieved through strenuous effort, but magic was different.

Magic required innate talent.

Specifically, ‘mana sensitivity.’

Like spirit affinity, without it, learning magic would be futile.

‘I asked Thea to look for an elf spirit user as soon as we arrived yesterday, but there were none. So, it’s probably better to start with a mana sensitivity test, and if that doesn’t work out, I should at least teach him aura. Even if he can’t gain aura, he can still learn swordsmanship.’

No matter how he thought about it, this seemed to be the best course of action.

As he made his decision and nodded to himself, Sylph returned.

“Pyaak, Pyak! Kieeek!”

“Gah, you startled me!”

It seemed Sylph had found a decent client.

‘But my eardrums are about to burst, so I wish they wouldn’t shriek right into my ear.’

Renki, finding something incredibly amusing, clutched his stomach and burst into hearty laughter beside him.

‘Go on, laugh. My eardrum almost burst.’

‘They say laughter brings good fortune, so laugh your heart out.’

****

Sylph perched on Hay’s shoulder, pointing the direction with both wings.

Leaving the Grand Plaza, they headed toward Popenini Hill, where rows of magic shops were said to be located.

People showed interest in the small griffin perched on Hay’s shoulder, finding it quite novel. Sylph seemed rather pleased by this attention.

They held their head high, puffing out their chest feathers, and thus did not diligently perform their duty of guiding the way.

“Aren’t you going to do your job properly? Should I unsummon you?”

Only after Hay tapped their beak and chided them did Sylph regain focus and resume guiding them.

Sylph led the two to the third house along Popenini Hill Road.

“This must be it,” Renki said, tilting his head and pointing to a dangling sign on the wall.

It bore the utterly untrustworthy name ‘Glittering Magic Shop.’

Glittering?

What could be glittering about it?

Was it a shop that polished magical artifacts until they glittered?

Even a toy store for children wouldn’t use such a tacky name.

Though highly doubtful, the names of other shops were not much different, suggesting that childish names might be a trend.

Or perhaps they simply lacked naming sense.

Mr. Hiddam’s shop, who had passed away, was simply called ‘Hiddam’s Magic Shop.’

Contrary to its name, the ‘Glittering Magic Shop’ was anything but glittering; it looked more like a dilapidated, abandoned house.

The wooden windows were tightly shut, and had it not been for the ‘Open’ sign on the door, one would have assumed it was closed.

“Sylph, is this really the right place?”

“Pyaaaah—!”

Sylph spread both wings and puffed out their chest feathers to the fullest.

“It seems like it is,”

Renki interpreted for Sylph, his voice tinged with amusement.

‘Would they really have found a good place on their own?’

Perhaps it was a practical shop, despite its appearance.

“Let’s go inside first.”

Hay reached for the doorknob.

Before he could grasp it, the door swung wide open, and a man, seemingly a customer, abruptly stumbled out.

His skin was as white as plaster, and his eyes were entirely black, with no discernible pupil or sclera.

Hay flinched, stiffening, and silently screamed inwardly.

For a moment, he had mistaken the man for an evil spirit and nearly punched him.