Chapter 35

As I munched on the cookie the shopkeeper had handed me, I waited for her to return with the rest of the items.

Suddenly, I felt a prickling sensation at the back of my head, as if someone was watching me.

I reached up and touched my hair, glancing behind me, but all I saw were people bustling about, focused on their own errands.

‘Must’ve been my imagination.’

After all, who would I know in this village? Mercenaries occasionally stopped by here on their way to the capital, but with no real lodging available in this small place, they rarely stayed long.

The only person I ever really interacted with here was the shopkeeper, who sometimes came down to the village to buy supplies, and right now, she was in the storage room.

At that moment, the shopkeeper emerged, arms full, and handed over a generous pile of supplies.

“Oh, you didn’t need to give me so much.”

“Bah, nonsense! The warrior who defeated the Demon King deserves plenty of provisions. Isn’t that right?”

Once again, she’d added more than I’d requested. Just as I was feeling touched by her generosity, a tiny voice came from behind me.

“So you really are the warrior’s maid, huh?”

“Hmm?”

I turned, but the man who’d spoken immediately buried his face in his beer, clearly avoiding eye contact.

‘Weird.’

I leaned over and whispered to the shopkeeper, “I’ve never seen him before. Is he from out of town?”

“Yep. He’s been here a few weeks now. He disappeared for a few days but came back yesterday,” she explained.

‘Hmm…’

I narrowed my eyes, glancing back at the man, who was now sipping his beer, completely oblivious to my stare. It was as if he hadn’t been glaring at me so intensely just moments before.

“Well, this place is a shortcut to the capital, so we do get adventurers from time to time. With the Demon King gone, they’re showing up more often!” the shopkeeper added, laughing heartily and slapping my back with enough force to leave a stinging sensation.

‘She hits harder than Aunt Violet…!’

They say the villagers near the Demon King’s castle developed tough personalities because of the frequent monster attacks.

‘Maybe this iron grip is part of that too.’

I rubbed my sore back, wiping away the tear that had formed in my eye.

If I didn’t leave soon, I might get a few more of those “friendly” slaps. So I quickly got up, thanked her, and prepared to leave.

“Thanks again for everything!”

“Take care!”

Just as I was about to step out, the man at the entrance suddenly grabbed my arm.

“Ouch!”

“…?”

But the moment he touched me, he recoiled, snatching his hand back as if he’d been shocked.

I was ready to kick him, but instead, I calmly smoothed down my skirt.

“Is there something you need?” I asked.

“Uh… yeah, um, can we talk for a bit?”

He rubbed his hand as if it were tingling, like he’d gotten a static shock. His request caught me off guard, but I declined without a second thought.

He looked like trouble, plain and simple.

“The warrior told me not to follow strangers.”

“W-Wait!”

And those glasses on the table—he must have had over ten drinks. There was no way a drunk like him could be in his right mind.

Since he was too shocked to try grabbing me again, I walked out of the tavern, ignoring him entirely.

—

Eveline was beginning to think she had rotten luck lately.

“Hey, miss! Let’s have a serious chat.”

This marked the seventh day in a row I’d heard that line.

The man, who had introduced himself as Ahern, took every opportunity to approach me, always requesting a “deep conversation.” Strangely, he always kept a solid meter between us when he did.

The more he behaved like this, the less I trusted him.

“Hey, shopkeeper, do you think this guy is, uh… mentally stable?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Oh, he seemed fine last week. Maybe he’s got a thing for you?”

“Huh?”

The way I saw it, he was more likely repeating himself because he was a little unhinged.

I had no intention of entertaining conversations with drunks or lunatics. Besides, Adam had repeatedly warned me against following strangers.

‘Not that I’m a child anymore,’ I thought, recalling how protective he’d become since our return from the temple.

Every time I let my guard down, he’d ask if I heard “any strange sounds.” He seemed endlessly concerned about this so-called divine prophecy.

As I mused over this, Ahern closed the distance slightly and raised his voice.

“So you’re like the warrior’s… pet? Right?”

“I’m a person, actually.”

“Yeah, yeah, a pet person.”

“…Uh, sure.”

No matter how hard Eveline tried, speaking with a drunkard like him was just an exercise in futility. He looked to be around Adam’s age, yet he was already drowning in alcohol.

Eveline rolled her eyes, glancing over his shoulder toward the exit, but the man—Ahern—seemed just as determined as she was to get what he wanted.

A year ago, Ahern had lost his reserve power and fled. This, of course, was nothing new. He’d gone through such situations numerous times.

But this time, there was a problem.

He’d lost his home. To the damned warrior, no less!

Normally, past warriors would leave the Demon King’s castle as soon as they defeated its master. They didn’t care about “demonic relics” or “cursed treasures,” so the castle’s hundreds of years’ worth of antiques and valuables had always been left undisturbed. Ahern had spent countless nights meticulously polishing each artifact. But now, all of it had been taken, and he was left homeless.

It wasn’t even a case of lingering to claim war trophies—he’d asked around, even humbling himself to question humans.

‘But apparently, the warrior is still there. What if he’s destroyed everything in the castle? Barbarian! I’ve waited long enough, but I need to get back to the castle and regain my power.’

In his current powerless state, he’d had some humiliating moments. Two weeks ago, he’d been chased by wild dogs, and last week, he lost a fight to a drunken fool.

Losing to a warrior was at least honorable. Losing to a human drunkard? That was a scar on his pride.

‘I have to get back to the Demon King’s castle!’

His goal had become clearer than ever. But every time he tried to return, the warrior seemed to be glued to the castle.

Charging in would be suicide in his weakened state; he’d get killed instantly.

‘That would be far from dignified. I could only accept that if I were to die in a way worth writing into history books.’

So, he’d schemed for a way to enter peacefully and regain his power.

‘Surely he hasn’t gone down to the lower levels, has he?’ Ahern’s leg started shaking involuntarily as he considered the thought. That would be disastrous. The core of his power was hidden down there.

If he even touched the core, Ahern could easily regain his strength.

And then he’d kill that damnable warrior.

People were ignoring him, dismissing his mutterings as just the usual drunken rambling. But then, as if by some divine intervention, salvation appeared.

The shopkeeper greeted someone warmly, a smile she never reserved for Ahern, who had spent a small fortune here in ale alone.

Curious, Ahern raised his head, only to see the shopkeeper welcome a familiar figure.

“Oh, it’s the warrior’s little maid!”

A maid? Ahern’s eyes widened at the strange title attached to the warrior.

He had assumed the warrior was a loner, a mistrusting soul with not a single friend. But to think he actually kept a maid?

‘My castle is certainly grand enough,’ Ahern thought with a smug cough. Even the solitary warrior seemed to need a servant in such a large space.

‘Hmm, she might be worth using,’ he mused.

The maid looked naive enough that she might be easy to sway with a little persuasion.

It seemed that the “invincible” warrior was still, after all, human. He’d made the foolish mistake of keeping a hostage within reach.

…or so he thought.

However, Ahern’s plan was about to hit an unexpected roadblock.