Chapter 70: Shadows of the Duke

“That, uh, I mean— can you let me go now?”

The adventurer’s trembling voice snapped me back from my reverie.

I looked up, sensing the man before me had gone utterly limp.

I’d been so absorbed in that tidbit about the ducal delegation— overlooking our immediate predicament.

But who would’ve thought, in this remote backwater, I’d stumble upon such news.

The wind through roadside woods carried a chill, threading between branches.

By Adventurers’ Guild norms, tasks were posted and taken freely, no questions on patrons’ identities or aims.

So who would dispatch someone to this forsaken woodland, shadowing Duke Airandil’s convoy?

I absently pinched my hem, feeling the fabric’s rough weave.

Love or not…… the ducal affairs could wait.

Reason told me the procession was likely just his envoys bearing gifts to the capital— routine with the festival nearing.

Duke Airandil, swamped in daily duties, hadn’t even posted for his missing daughter— no way he’d deign personally for such trifles.

As for hidden plots or schemes behind it……

I couldn’t help a soft inward sigh.

Come on, even as Kritiya Airandil’s elder sister, aligned with her— wasn’t this for knights and vassals to scheme?

Should a runaway girl overstep, fretting in their stead, the salary-drawers?

My gaze settled back on the quaking man.

He looked about thirty, face weathered by endless exposure, armor caked in grime, scabbard chipped— a bottom-rung adventurer through and through.

How to handle him?

This dilemma pinned me.

Letting him go was unwise; he’d seen our faces clear.

Dragging him along? Like planting a live bomb at our side.

So…… only the most drastic choice left?

The thought twisted my gut.

I gripped the dagger hidden in my sleeve instinctively, its cool touch sharpening my mind.

Unless utterly desperate, I truly didn’t want blood on my hands.

“Wait!”

Nolan, silent till now, broke in, shattering my quiet.

I turned, seeing his lips pressed thin, blue eyes gleaming with a sharpness beyond his years.

The boy stepped forward a fraction, his straight sword still steady on the adventurer.

“You say you took a task to watch— besides you, how many others around here?”

“Th-This……”

The adventurer’s eyes darted, brow beading sweat.

“I really don’t know……

You know the rules— we never pry into fellows’ moves……”

But Nolan’s question sparked a reminder in me.

I suddenly grasped an overlooked key: with the Guild posting publicly, the station likely crawled with watchers— only this fool adventurer had blundered out.

“Forget it— let me think.”

I murmured low, voice laced with unnoted weariness, gaze shifting to Nolan.

“Let him go?

Or…… what do you say?”

Nolan didn’t answer at once.

His short sword caught cold light, tip not quite at the man’s throat, but his focused, wary stare wove an invisible net, trapping the adventurer firm.

He tilted his head slightly, as if listening to the woods, then demanded aloud:

“You make it sound so easy— but you saw clear, right?

We’re just two passing kids— why single us out?

Does the Guild task specify hassling lone children?”

“No, no way!”

The adventurer blurted denial.

“It’s so dark, I…… couldn’t see clear, just you sneaking……

Wanted first dibs on credit, who knew you’d be so fierce……”

That wasn’t implausible……

Adventurers varied wildly in caliber, buzzing like headless flies for scraps.

I mused, watching Nolan draw a deep breath, then say:

“Listen— we’re just passing through.

Don’t hassle us anymore.”

“Y-Yes—”

“Hold on— leave your weapons, quiver too.”

I interjected; the guy nodded meekly, then fumbled his gear to the ground.

Seeing my hand withdraw slowly, he bolted like a startled hare.

I stepped up, bending to scoop the crossbow.

The metal mechanism chilled my palm.

I tucked it, with quiver, into my waistband.

Then grabbed the scabbard, nodding toward Nolan.

Nolan paused, then sheathed the sword with a raised hand— reminding me anew of his one usable arm.

A faint unease stirred in me, but no time for it now.

Sword in hand, I walked slowly to Nolan’s front.

“What’s up?”

I said nothing, just advanced silently, proffering the sheathed straight sword.

Hooking the quiver strap, my fingers brushed the scabbard’s cool metal rings.

Then I dipped slightly, leaning to his waist, hanging the ring on Nolan’s left belt loop, buckling it secure.

“Tiya, this……”

Nolan swayed a bit, face faintly shocked, hand steadying the sword.

I backed two steps, appraising.

He stood straight, sheath hanging steady at his hip— length perfect, no hindrance to movement, easy for his right-hand draw.

“Done— let’s hurry.

Not safe lingering here.”

I said hastily, turning to the road ahead.

***

“…………”

The supposed roadside village proved elusive.

We trudged the main road till midnight, sighting no souls; the path grew twistier, more treacherous.

Only the night-shrouded, rolling hill outlines stretched like hibernating beasts.

In my mind, I replayed the rough local map, mood sinking.

Ahead lay the Magen Hills girding the kingdom’s north.

Though the empire carved a trade route through, dense woods and thickets bred tales of beasts and monsters; solo riders here faced perils aplenty.

“Stop— let’s halt……”

Nolan, hand on his sword, led; I fell silent a moment, about to speak, when my feet rooted like posts.

“Tiya— what’s wrong?

Not going?”

Nolan, marching on oblivious, noted the trailing steps gone, turning puzzled.

“Where to?”

I realized Kritiya had awakened; her awareness flooded like tide over sand, reclaiming the body’s helm.

“Er…… why ask that?”

Nolan blinked, then saw the girl pat and probe her form.

“Nothing……”

Kritiya shook her empty cloak, murmuring as she straightened.

I knew— she sought notes.

Those slim pages bridged us frail; but today’s upheavals left no chance for a word.

Her green eyes met Nolan’s quietly, drawn first to the new sword at his waist, then locking sights.

“So…… what should I do?”

“Leaving?”

The girl eyed Nolan’s expression, stepping forward light as a dragonfly’s skim.

“You tired?”

Nolan didn’t budge, asking cautiously instead.

***

“Maybe…… a bit?”

“Then rest awhile— we’ve come far enough; I’ll……”

Nolan decided solo, soon gathering brush into a fire-ready pile.

Kritiya meant to help, but fearing soot in her eyes, stayed put.

“See, learned a trick.”

Nolan said, raising a hand to the brush, murmuring a low incantation.

Whoosh!

A spark-friction burst from his fingertip; dry twigs smoked faint blue.

Nolan half-kneeled hastily, blowing till orange flames danced and swelled, yielding warmth.

Kritiya’s eyes mirrored the blaze; she exhaled, hiking her skirt to sit by the fire.

Nolan just stood, hand on hilt, sentinel-like; I noted he tried for unflappable poise, but his upright stance and subtle chest rise betrayed smug pride in the new blade— even if just a worn half-decent iron sword.

After all, a sword it was; some would whoop over a straight stick, swinging it gleefully half a day.

In a haze, I recalled my own child-self, “armed” in mock battles.

Lately, original novel memories resurfaced often, yet these trifles drifted hazy.

“You…… look the part now.”

Gaze on Nolan’s mien, Kritiya propped her cheek, as if just surfacing.

“The part…… what part?”

“Like a knight.”

“Don’t tease.”

Nolan flushed, averting his face, stance crumbling awkwardly, limbs unsure where to settle.

“Let’s discuss today.”

Kritiya said naturally, eyeing Nolan.

“Er…… the station thing?”

Nolan saw her nod, urging him on, so continued:

“I figure, Tiya— glad you consulted me today.

And you were right; spotting the Guild mark let us prep and slip out timely.”

“From that adventurer’s talk, it ties to some northern grand duke— getting tangled in noble plots would’ve been bad.”

“Right, what was the duke’s name? Airandil?

Yeah……

Anyway……”

Nolan trailed off, seeing the gray-haired girl bolt up startled, firelight raging wild in her pupils.