Chapter 45
Chapter 45
An eerie silence filled the room.
Devon stood there, looking back and forth between Pilof and Aino, trying to read their expressions.
Pilof seemed utterly composed, as though life and death no longer held any meaning for him.
Aino, meanwhile, was expressionless, her thoughts a mystery.
After a moment, Aino broke the silence.
“Well, I can’t control what I like to eat. Normally, I don’t eat people.”
Devon’s usually stern face faltered for a split second, registering sheer disbelief.
So it’s true—her favorite food is humans.
It dawned on him that he might have made a grave mistake.
Still, her explanation left room for hope. Maybe she truly was just curious about humanity’s progress. Maybe her preference for humans was purely instinctual.
But no matter how he tried to rationalize it, something still felt very, very wrong.
Seeing their submissive "you’re always right" expressions, Aino sighed in exasperation.
What a headache. What an annoying situation... cursed innate magic.
Frustrated, she felt tempted to just give up.
If they won’t believe her, why bother convincing them? Why waste energy proving she was harmless to a group of strangers?
“Fine. If words won’t work, then I’ll take my leave,” she said, turning to go.
“Wait, Miss Aino!”
Devon’s voice called from behind, halting her in her tracks. She turned, unsure of his intent.
With their current strength, these adventurers couldn’t stop her if they tried.
She watched as Devon approached, digging into his bag for something.
Remaining still, Aino observed him silently.
To her surprise, Devon pulled out a thick stack of paper bills and handed them to her.
“Miss Aino, you helped us acquire a great deal of wealth and brought us out of the forbidden zone unscathed. We cannot repay that debt.”
“We’re just ordinary adventurers, but this money should allow you to live comfortably here for quite some time. Please consider it a token of our gratitude.”
Devon’s stern expression softened, and his gaze held a genuine sincerity as he looked into her eyes.
Nearby, she found boar-headed laborers working construction, supervised by a human foreman barking orders from the shade.
“Of course you’d screw that up! You really are a pig, aren’t you?” the man shouted.
At the marketplace, a few beastfolk ran stalls, but their goods were largely ignored. Prepared foods sat untouched, reheated repeatedly until they dried out and had to be discarded.
She also saw scantily clad non-human women, often conforming to human standards of beauty but with distinctive features, performing less-than-dignified tasks.
Their situations weren’t great.
But then, Aino thought, perhaps it all came down to strength—or lack thereof.
Coincidentally, at that same moment, someone else was having similar thoughts.
Frederick had a rough start in life. His "hell difficulty" beginning was being discarded like trash by his young mother, left in a garbage heap to die.
If not for the kindness of a stranger, he would have become food for stray animals.
The one who saved him was an old man, around sixty or seventy, with shallow wrinkles and sparse white hair on his forehead and neck.
His gaze, however, remained sharp and profound, as though he could see through the fabric of the world—a look tempered by years of experience and hardship.
The old man rarely interacted with others, earning a reputation among the townsfolk as a mysterious and unapproachable figure.
But for those who recognized him, their shock would be immeasurable.
This man was none other than the once-legendary hero, Aestrelia.
Years ago, when the Black Dragon King Tananorn terrorized the continent—destroying lands and killing countless strong warriors—fear and anger gripped all races.
But no one dared to stand against him. No one wanted to be Tananorn’s next meal.
Wherever the shadow of the black dragon’s bone wings fell, destruction followed, while the other races huddled together in fear.
Finally, Aestrelia stepped forward.
At first, he was met with scorn. With so many powerful races and renowned warriors, what could a human do?
Humans? That weak race has strong warriors?
The young hero merely smiled in response, letting his sword do the talking.
The Frost Giant King of the Snowfields, confident that Tananorn would never tread into the frozen wastes, mocked humanity openly, dismissing them as irrelevant.
While many shared his sentiment, most hoped the dragon could be defeated, even if they doubted the hero’s strength.
Aestrelia silenced them all when the Frost Giant King’s severed head became the foundation of his legend.
With a single stroke, the giant’s blood splattered, and his enormous head soared into the air.
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