The clamor born of people and goods moving continued without pause. Walm slipped past a man carrying a coarse hemp sack over his shoulder, avoided a child distracted by something off to the side, and passed behind a soldier glaring at a liquor bottle with a troubled expression. What slowed Walm’s steps as he wove through the gaps in the crowd was a voice calling out to customers.

“Hey there, sir. I’ve got some fine liquor from the Archipelago Countries.”

“Sorry, I’ve had more than enough to drink.”

“Is that so? Well, stop by if you change your mind. Hey, soldier over there! What’s been troubling you?”

If it had been daily necessities or some other indulgence, Walm might have stopped but for a man who had sworn off alcohol, it held no appeal. The shopkeeper quickly shifted his target. Comparing the unchanging contents of a soldier’s purse to the bottle of liquor, he must have judged that a conflicted soldier would be easy prey.

It wasn’t only his eyes and ears that were assaulted by busyness. From the sour stench of stale sweat to the savory aroma of roasting skewers, even his nose protested from overwork. As if to say that polishing appearances was pointless, the market’s construction bordered on chaos. Wooden shacks lined both sides of the street. They were not dwellings meant for living.

Within the walls encircling the Imperial Capital were several markets, and among them the one where Walm was staying was the newest. That said, being the newest did not mean it was clean or high-class. The location itself had been left empty after suffering devastating damage from the Flame Emperor Dragon and monsters, and the mismatched appearance of the stalls was the result of actively reusing scrap materials as building supplies.

The traditional markets and warehouses managed by major merchants were already filled, prioritized for trade with the Mayard territory and the Archipelago Countries. This was mainly because the current Imperial Capital was hailed as the only great artery connecting the Mayard front and the Empire. On top of that, within the Empire it functioned as the core hub redistributing concentrated manpower and supplies.

As for what the impoverished Highserk Empire, ravaged by war and starved of resources, could offer, it had once been military strength, but even that was a thing of the past. Now, it was the discovery of rare magic silver mines that kept the Empire alive. The Great Rampage had driven them to the brink of sunset, yet if that very phenomenon hadn’t moved the habitats of monsters, those magic silver mines would have remained buried and unknown. The irony was unmistakable.

Lost in aimless thoughts, Walm wandered the market without purpose. He had already replenished the daily goods and small luxuries consumed during his journey, and food was stored within his magic bag. Now on his third day in the capital, rest was no longer necessary. He was used to the rootless life of a soldier, drifting from place to place.

“What should I do…”

He couldn’t decide whether continuing to browse the stalls was the right answer, and it was too early for a meal. Unlike an idler, battalion commander Jeyf and company commander Friug were buried in military duties. Dropping in merely to kill time would certainly earn their resentment, which in turn could’ve led to being stabbed in the back on the battlefield. Training at the grounds crossed his mind, but he had been ordered to rest. Pathetically enough, he had completely forgotten how to spend his time off.

“Hey, you there.”

Though troubled by such a luxurious problem, Walm halted at the sound of a voice calling out to him. A routine sales pitch, he thought, and a refusal rose to his throat, only to stop. There was something familiar about the tone. Maybe it was a soldier he had seen in another unit?

Turning around, Walm spotted the owner of the voice. A slender man approached, carrying a load taller than himself strapped to his back. The sight of goods tied on haphazardly and threatening to spill over was both impressive and exasperating. It reminded Walm of students from his former world dangling countless dolls and keychains from their bags.

Lowering his guard, Walm spoke the traveling merchant’s name as if to confirm it.

“Hugh?”

“Ah… so it is you, Mr. Walm.”

They had both been uncertain, and only after confirming it recognition truly settled in.

“It’s been since the Adelina.”

“That was a disaster, wasn’t it? For a while afterward, I didn’t even want to smell the sea breeze.”

Recollecting the past, Walm and Hugh both grimaced. A ship was a confined space surrounded by flammable materials, hardly compatible with Demon Fire or fire-attribute magic. And the sea creatures had been a nightmare.

The kraken was a giant monster capable of destroying even large vessels. If it had been nighttime, they might have been dragged beneath the waves before they even realized it. The Sea Goblins drawn by blood and flesh, had also been troublesome. They were intelligent enough to wield weapons, dexterous, and overwhelming in number. Worst of all was the stench after death, more pungent than that of some undead. There was no end to the complaints one could make, so Walm pushed the memories aside and posed a question.

“What brings you to a remote place like this?”

During the voyage, Walm shared a cabin with Hugh. They had spoken often enough to build a certain familiarity. If memory served, Hugh was a traveling merchant who made his living trading through cities and villages of the Archipelago Countries.

“The Gundor incident that erupted in Labyrinth City crushed my supplier… literally. Even if I tried to make new connections, plenty of merchants share the same misfortune. A small shop like me can’t win against that competition.”

The Undead Dragon that devastated the city had also struck the labyrinth, where most of the resources came from. Adventurers and explorers had been mobilized for defense during the unrest, making it impossible to gather resources on the former scale. That impact had reached Hugh as well.

“Recently, I heard that the Dalimarcus Family territory was doing well thanks to magic silver mines. When I visited, I found out that people and goods were flowing into Highserk. Where people and goods go, business follows. So here I am, chasing opportunity.”

Hugh puffed out his chest as he explained, but at his feet were visibly worn shoes. He had quite literally earned this opportunity with his own two feet.

“That’s admirable,” Walm said sincerely, respecting his effort and initiative.

“Thanks to that, most of what I brought sold. I had hoped to secure a path for local specialties on my return, but…”

“For someone who sold most of his stock, you look heavily burdened.”

The straps dug deeply into Hugh’s shoulders and his pack was clearly still full.

“I never said I failed to get anything back. It’s just unstable… unsuitable for consistent supply. The contents are parts of monsters. Unusual varieties from here that don’t appear in Labyrinth City.”

Likely monsters that had spilled from the demonic territory during the Great Rampage. During the defense of Dandurg Castle, rare and strange species had poured out in absurd numbers. Having answered, Hugh turned the question back to Walm.

“By the way, Mr. Walm, are you heading to the Archipelago for work? That outfit’s quite popular there lately.”

He was subtly pointing out that Walm was a Highserk soldier. Understandably so, since this was the Empire’s stronghold.

“No, just personal matters. I returned with the help of an old acquaintance.”

“You’re fortunate to have such connections. By the way, is the name ‘Walm’ common in Highserk?”

The sudden question drew a puzzled look from Walm, but he answered.

“No, not particularly. Why do you ask?”

“I met someone in the market recently. He’s searching for his younger brother who was lost in the war. His name was Walm also.”

Walm’s heart jolted in shock and confusion. No… that couldn’t be. There was no use hoping.

His breath caught. Moving his dry lips slowly, he forced out the question.

“…What was his name?”

“Ah… if I recall correctly, it might’ve been Hayes.”

Not a single syllable mistaken, it was the name of his brother. It was too unlikely for brothers to share such names by coincidence, with one searching for the other.

Suppressing his agitation, Walm pressed on.

“Where… did you meet him?”

“In the street market. He said he was returning to his abandoned village northeast of the capital. He planned to stay for a while, then head to the Republic or the Archipelago Countries… so, he’s really your brother then?”

“Yeah, he is.”

Piecing together the fragments, it could only be him. When Walm returned home too late and burned what had once been people, he had directly confirmed only his parents’ deaths.

“I’m sorry, and thank you. It’s not much, but please accept this.”

Walm pulled out his coin pouch to reward the man who had brought news of his family, but Hugh stopped him with a raised hand.

“No need. You saved me on the ship, and there was that matter of my chipped axe, so don’t worry about it. I hope your paths cross… really.”

Hugh smiled warmly.

“Thank you.”

Hearing that Hayes was alive had loosened Walm’s tension. And because of that, he never noticed the unchanging smile that remained fixed on Hugh’s face until the very end.

◆

After receiving repeated thanks, Hugh watched the Highserk soldier run off into the distance.

“So, he’s gone.”

Readjusting his load, he slowly left the market.

As a person, Hugh sincerely hoped that Walm and his brother, siblings separated by war, would walk the same path once more. He owed the Highserk soldier a debt and had shared close quarters with him on the Adelina.

To outward appearances, Hugh was only a merchant who had completed a successful transaction. In truth, his heart pounded violently, and he fought desperately to keep his limbs from trembling. Though his gaze remained fixed ahead, he carefully observed passersby for any signs of suspicion.

Only after slipping into a cluster of abandoned houses used for gathering building materials, he finally sat on the foundation of a stone pillar. There was no one following him, only the searing guilt and fear clinging to him like burn scars.

“Ha… even if it was a strict order from the homeland… still…”

In a voice barely louder than an insect’s chirp, Hugh muttered his complaint. Originally, he had been nothing more than one of several sources relaying general info from the Archipelago Countries to his homeland. He had some experience with negotiations and trade, but he was not a trained operative or spy. Yet through threats, and tempted by reward money, he had reluctantly accepted the task.

Who would take such a job willingly?

During the battle aboard the Adelina, he had once been pinned by those eyes… golden, yet somehow cloudy. They had not been human eyes. Add to that the unrest in Labyrinth City, the Four-Nation Alliance War, and the blue flames at Sarajevo Fortress… events he had only heard of, yet which filled him with dread.

Who could believe it? That Walm had held back against the kraken. If Walm wished to kill Hugh, it would take less than a single hand’s worth of effort.

“I really hope they walk the same road. If… they don’t…”

An image surfaced in his mind. Hugh cut off his words and refused to say any more.

Translator – Lyxxna