Episode 105 The Returned Hero (1)

The Red Salt Castle.

Surrounded by earthen walls and tall watchtowers, it is a massive man-made fortress built by the wizards of Morg.

Mines were being developed above, with veins of crimson ruby running through them.

The dark night. Vikir climbed over a massive earthen wall and entered the inner court.

He could see men in guard uniforms passing beneath the protruding steel and rocky ridges.

With a soundless movement characteristic of the Mushuhushu, Vikir melted into the shadows and scaled the wall, sliding down the iron frame.

Soon, the interior of the Red Salt Castle unfolded.

The streets were drenched with rain. Dappled light leaked through the dark alleyways.

Vikir headed down the alley in search of an inn to stay out of the rain tonight.

Then.

“……?”

Vikir spotted something towering above the buildings on the other side of the alley.

It was a statue, large and majestic enough to be seen clearly in the darkness and rain.

It was a massive sculpture of a figure standing tall, looking out over the depht to the west, perhaps made entirely of gold.

The golden glow from the lower part of the figure made the surroundings seem illuminated.

However, the upper part of its face was dark and hard to see.

“……What’s the point of putting something like that up there?”

Vikir paused for a moment.

The statue hadn’t been there since he left the fortress two years ago.

Even if this was Morg’s land, it was still essentially owned by the Baskervilles, so there would have to be a bilateral agreement for such a symbolic sculpture to be built.

Moreover, it’s a statue of great magnificence, with its entire body glittering with gold, so who could it be?

Vikir approached the statue cautiously.

Just as he was about to find out who had built such a golden statue to honor.

“Hey, get the hell out of here!”

One of the guards waved at Vikir.

Apparently, there were some rats trying to nibble at the golden statue’s gold.

“This statue is a monument erected by the Morg, in honor of the heroes who defended the Red Salt Castle! Do not approach it, only view it from a distance!”

At the overly vigilant guard’s words, Vikir backed away.

He couldn’t afford to argue with the guard. He’d be pretty tired if they found out who he was.

“Even if I’ve been forgotten by everyone for two years…… still, there’s no point in causing trouble.”

Not curious enough about the statue’s identity to take a closer look, Vikir quickly turned into the alley.

He was going to find an inn and get some rest.

* * *

Eventually, Vikir entered the tavern.

The floor was drenched with rainwater and smeared with a messy mixture of dirt and charred footprints.

The heat was sweltering, contrasting with the cold breeze from the street, and the moisture blinded Vikir’s eyes.

The smells of roasting meat, boiling fish, clinking beer glasses, and loud shouts and laughter filled the air.

Vikir takes a seat.

Then a glass of hot rum and three skewers of salted turkey brine are plopped down in front of him.

As the waitress turns away in an unfriendly manner, Vikir raises his hand.

“I didn’t order this…….”

“Hey, this is a basic drink.”

Vikir’s words were answered by a man with a brushy beard who walked up and sat down next to him.

Bikir lifted his hood, and looked sideways.

The bushy-bearded man squinted at him.

“I saw you in the alley earlier, didn’t I?”

It was the security guard who had just yelled at Vikir.

“Wahahaha! I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier, but I’m doing what I do, and I’m on a mission. I can’t help but be sensitive when I’m on guard.”

He patted Vikir on the shoulder and laughed.

The sight of Vikir’s physique, probably in his late teens, made him relax his guard.

Vikir merely shook his head.

“…… I understand.”

The security guard raised his hand as if he liked what he saw and called for an attendant.

Then he looked out the window at the golden statue in the distance.

“Whatever, you understand. It’s our job to guard the statue honoring ‘him’, not the other way around.”

“Him?”

Vikir repeated, and the guard sounded excited.

“Yes. The hero who saved the Red Salt Castle two years ago. It was because of him that we survived the great barbarian invasion, and even the wizards of Morg and the swordsmen of Baskerville.”

“……?”

Vikir scratched his head.

The story was new to him, too.

“Was there such a hero?”

Wasn’t it two years ago, before he disappeared? Was there a massive barbarian invasion then, and was there someone powerful enough to protect Baskerville and Morg?

Everything is questionable.

Vikir was digging through his memories, trying to recall the names of heroes he might have forgotten.

“hey! I’m going to buy a drink for my little friend here, so hurry up and get your order! shit! Did you boil and eat a tortoise leg?”

The guard grabbed the unfriendly waiter by the back of the head and ordered some salt and pepper pork for himself and a bottle of rum.

The guard looked back at Vikir and asked.

“What do you want to drink, kid, I’m buying you something because I feel bad about yelling at you earlier.”

“Then I’ll have a rum too…….”

“Wahahaha, by the sound of your voice, you sound like a child, no rum, just a glass of milk, warm it up!”

The guard shooed the waiter away into the kitchen.

The men at the other table, dressed in the same uniform as the guard, chuckled.

“Hey, you talking about ‘him’ again!”

“Well, I’m busy spreading the legend of ‘Him’ whenever I see a stranger, right?”

“Well, I can understand that. He’s the reason we’re still alive.”

“That’s right, we can’t praise ‘Him’ enough, can you?”

The guards chattered away.

When Vikir remained hooded and silent, the guard next to him spoke up.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. You’re a foreigner, but you should know. ‘His’ fame and accomplishments resonate far beyond the underdog city below, across Baskerville’s territory, and even into the Empire!”

“…….”

“Alas, are you speechless with amazement? How can a hero’s tale of heroism, from such a remote little place as this, shake the entire Empire?”

“…….”

“Yes, I know, but it’s true, and my cousin, who recently traveled to the Yellow City, can testify to that. How well ‘he’ is regarded in the Empire’s society circles now.”

The guard took a long gulp of rum, then spoke with a gaping face.

“It’s been two years, and I can still remember that day, the thrill, the chills, the goosebumps!”

” ……Hmm. Apparently there was a great hero two years ago.”

Vikir shook his head, and the room erupted in laughter.

The guards at the back table raised their glasses of beer, vodka, and whiskey high in the air.

“Wahahaha! You don’t know ‘Him’! Are you a spy! Well, when you hear of ‘Him’, even a lowly moron like you would say you’ve heard of Him somewhere.”

“Yes, indeed! ‘He’ was so great that day, gallantly chasing after the savages that no one else dared to pursue!”

“He led an army of Morg and Baskervilles into the dark depths, can you believe it? Into the black depths with those enemies, and at night, too! It was suicide! Ha ha, but ‘He’ did it! Even the mighty Adolf was only a bridesmaid that day!”

“Hey! Those are nothing! I’d be lying if I didn’t mention that He slaughtered over a thousand fearsome barbarians in one fell swoop and rescued Morg’s frail Barren Jade Leaf! It was all thanks to ‘Him’ that Morg’s young lady, who was poisoned to death, was able to recover!”

“Uh-huh! If you didn’t see it, shut up! Do you know of His valor as He single-handedly charged a giant, unidentified monster that appeared out of nowhere? I saw His final act with my own two eyes as He threw Himself into the fray to ensure the safe retreat of the Morg and Baskerville allies!”

……?

Vikir sensed that something was strange going on.

The hero who had slaughtered so many barbarians in one fell swoop.

The chivalry that had saved Morg’s frail, Barren Jade Leaf only daughter.

A Holy Sacrifice, who fought bravely against a giant monster, buying the Alliance time to flee.

“That great hero who was here with us only two years ago, whose name is……!”

The guard leapt to his feet and lifted his lantern to shine out the window.

There, just beyond the darkness, the face of a golden statue was visible, illuminated by the moonlight peeking out of the clouds.

At the sight of the majestic hero, all the guards exclaimed.

“‘Vi!”

” Ki!”

At the same time, countless guards turned their gazes toward Vikir.

If they didn’t recognize him by now, they would throw stones at him.

Eventually, Vikir answered.

“……R?”

Then all the guards chimed in.

“Look, you know who it is, Vikir van Baskerville!”

The golden statue that towered over the central plaza of Red Salt Castle was in Vikir’s image.