The expedition departing the village was sent off with the villagers waving goodbye.
Having protected the village from the Griffon attack and helped with repairs afterward, the villagers' feelings toward them were far warmer than when they had arrived.
There had been casualties, but it was still better than total annihilation.
No, you could even call this an overly generous outcome.
Amid all this, Aria was wrapped in a blanket inside the Porter.
"...It feels incredibly heavy."
Inside the Porter were Aria, Shannon, Miranda, and Monica.
Shannon and Monica were playing, while Miranda was listless.
The banquet had been fine.
To celebrate the victory, knights, soldiers, and villagers alike joined in drinking and revelry—
And that was where the problems began.
A major change appeared in both Aria and Miranda.
At first they thought it was just fatigue, but their bodies felt heavy.
Their spirits were low, and they didn't want to move.
In the meantime, Lyle and the others had been busy with various tasks around the village, so they'd been able to lie down and rest.
However, when it continued for several days, they realized something was clearly wrong.
To Aria, who looked unwell, Monica said:
"If you're going to throw up, please step outside. I have no interest in anything other than taking care of the Chicken."
Aria glared at Monica, who said this with a straight face.
"You really do love Lyle, don't you."
Aria stood up inside the Porter and looked outside.
Behind her, the Griffon was preserved in an ice coffin.
It had few wounds and appeared to have been killed in a single blow. They were keeping it carefully since it would fetch a high price.
Still, it wouldn't make up for the five hundred gold coins they'd lost.
Ahead, Norma rode on horseback, leading the expedition with a weary expression.
Those who were injured and not yet fully healed—
The fallen were being transported in wagons, and Lyle and the others walked near the Porter.
He walked while talking with Novem, and Clara sat atop the Porter's roof, operating it.
However, Marcus and his group had kept their distance.
(Can't blame them.)
After the banquet, various things had happened, and they'd distanced themselves.
Watching Lyle talking with Novem, Aria remembered the moment they'd left the village.
At the farewell, Lyle had been talking with a village boy.
It was a boy he'd been looking after in the village, and he'd gone so far as to give the boy his own weapon.
Seeing this gentle side with children, Aria found it surprising.
(He's kind to people other than women, too.)
Having finished looking outside, she sat down on a wooden crate, and inside the Porter, Miranda was stirring restlessly.
When she poked her head out, Miranda wore a terribly dark expression.
To put it bluntly—
(Whoa, scary!)
Aria also wore a stunned expression.
Miranda had always been cheerful, but after the attack, she'd lost all composure.
She could only manage a forced smile directed at Lyle.
And she'd lost her usual pleasant demeanor...
"...Shannon, water please."
"Y-yes!"
When Shannon hastily prepared water, Miranda sat up to drink it.
Dressed lightly and sweating, Miranda looked unwell—her expression was poor.
After the banquet—
Miranda had kicked Marcus and his group, who were near Lyle.
She was probably unhappy that Lyle hadn't blamed Marcus and his group for their mistakes, and that he'd delivered the promotion report as promised.
There had been no damage from the Hippogriffs, and in the end, it was Lyle who'd delivered the killing blow.
He hadn't seemed particularly bothered by it, which must have infuriated her.
Lyle, for his part, wasn't trying to interact with Marcus and his group beyond business conversations.
Miranda, who had finished drinking water and wiped her mouth, looked at Aria and spoke.
"What?"
Usually Miranda would ask "What?" with a smile, but she had no composure and was glaring at Aria with sharp eyes.
In the past, Aria might have been afraid, but now she'd grown.
"Nothing. You looked like you were struggling, so I was watching. It's impressive how you can still smile in front of Lyle in that state."
She meant it as a joke, but Aria lacked her usual tact.
Miranda's brow twitched slightly, and Shannon began trembling.
Monica watched this and—
"A confrontation? How wonderful. I was bored, and I've always wanted to see a real confrontation. Now then, both of you, duke it out like a daytime drama in all its glorious messiness—Faa!"
As Monica grinned with excitement, Shannon stopped her.
"Don't stir up a fight here! And what do you even mean by 'daytime drama'!"
"It's like theater. Come now, a real confrontation!"
"She's lost her mind!"
—Well, she was broken from the start, so that was only natural—
Just as Miranda was about to stand up, there was a knock on the Porter's door.
After a brief pause, Lyle opened the door.
The Porter had also stopped—they were probably taking a break.
Aria spoke.
"A break already? The trip there was only half a day, wasn't it?"
When Lyle poked his head in, Miranda was putting on a smile despite looking pained.
"I recommended taking frequent breaks. Also, I want to hunt some monsters along the way to secure some kills."
He would kill monsters on the road and credit the kills to those whose contributions fell short of what was needed for promotion.
He'd then buy the materials and Magic Stones from those kills himself.
Lyle spoke.
"Are you two okay? Today my team will also keep watch, so take your time resting."
Miranda replied.
"Sorry about that."
(...Miranda is pretty dark, isn't she.)
As Aria looked at Miranda and thought this, Shannon was staring intently at Lyle's chest.
"...The light moved."
What was she talking about?
Aria was puzzled, but without the energy to deal with it, she decided to leave things to Lyle and the others.
"I'll leave it to you. Actually, this time it's pretty rough. I'm afraid of a relapse..."
The post-"growth" high tension, which could be called a backlash from the growth.
It varied from person to person, but it seemed the experience this time had exceeded Aria and the others' capacity, and their bodies needed time to process it.
Lyle's expression flickered for an instant, and Aria didn't miss it.
(He's remembering his own growth, isn't he.)
Lyle, smiling at them, addressed the four inside the Porter.
"If you think stepping outside would help, go ahead. Monica and Shannon will help with work outside."
Shannon, who would normally refuse, flew out of the Porter because the air inside had become stifling.
Lyle looked surprised as she rushed him for work.
When Monica also stepped outside and closed the door, she said:
"I won't disturb you, so please take your time."
She seemed to enjoy watching people fight, and her smile was infuriating.
Neither Aria nor Miranda wanted to cause a scene of their own accord.
Both wrapped themselves in blankets and rested—
Stepping away from the Porter, I looked up at Clara.
"Was this the right call?"
"Yes. We'd be in trouble if they started causing a ruckus inside the Porter."
Shannon and Monica had begun their work, and I talked with Clara.
"I understand they're struggling from the growth, but losing both front-liners is tough."
I'd known it, but this party was short on people.
I really wanted to recruit several more members.
Around us, many knights and soldiers looked equally unwell, just like Aria and Miranda.
They had stepped off the road and were lying down to rest on the side.
The Fifth Generation's voice came through.
«With Skills, we can compensate for movement speed. With this many people, Lyle's mana should be able to handle it.»
Perhaps gaining confidence, many soldiers and Volunteer Soldiers had begun taking the initiative to fight monsters.
Group tactics were taking better shape than before, and their spirits were likely high after the victory.
The Third Generation spoke nonchalantly.
«Originally, I was planning to take out Norma in a snap, but looking at the results, it's a fine outcome.»
For my part, I couldn't call it fine since there had been deaths.
I believed the damage had been minimized, but people had still died.
(If only I'd handled things a bit better.)
As I wore a complicated expression, the Fourth Generation spoke.
«Lyle, you're not thinking "if only I'd tried harder," are you? You do what you can, but damage will happen regardless. Thinking you can prevent it all by trying harder—that's arrogance.»
The Sixth Generation agreed.
«That's right. Regretting after it's over doesn't help anyone. If you did your best, hold your head high.»
That wasn't the mood I was in.
(Being a leader is really tough.)
Experiencing this feeling drove home just how heavy responsibility was.
The Seventh Generation said—
«This too is good experience. I thought it was a trivial job, but you learned what you needed to learn, Lyle.»
—It had started with a request from the head of House Cerclie.
Against Hippogriffs, the party had seemed underpowered, and I'd expected heavy casualties.
But in reality, it had been a request where total annihilation against the Griffon was entirely possible.
I recognized how naive I'd been.
(The voices I hear have decreased.)
The First and Second Generation voices were no longer heard.
When I picked up the Jewel, Clara spoke to me.
"Lyle, is something wrong?"
I couldn't tell her the truth, so I made an excuse.
"I was thinking about Luka a bit. I wonder if he's actually studying properly."
Hearing this, Clara smiled.
"He was very enthusiastic, and he looked happy when he learned a few things. Ah, and there's one more thing—"
"What?"
When Clara returned to her usual expressionless face, I noticed she looked a bit pale.
"Are you feeling unwell? If so, rest right away—"
"I'm sorry. I also, um... it seems it's come for me too."
It came for me?
As I puzzled over this, Novem rushed over.
"Lord Lyle! Over sixty percent of everyone is reporting physical discomfort. They've all experienced something significant, and this could spread to the entire group."
When the body processes an experience that's too large or unprecedented, there are several patterns.
The Second Generation had told me about them. One is where, like me, you suddenly take a turn for the worse and then recover.
The other is where the body takes its time, slowly processing the experience.
"This is bad. Let's head to the next village quickly. We'll stay one or two nights there and see how things go..."
As I said this, I felt an expectant gaze from the Jewel.
The Third Generation murmured in a small voice.
«...Lyle.»
It whispered that.
(I-it's fine! This time there's no change. I'm the type who needs a massive amount of experience to grow.)
I told myself this to stay calm.
There was no particular change in my body.
The heaviness—was just that.
"A-anyway, let's hurry. We should send a knight ahead to explain the situation and have them prepare."
We had the funds to pay, so gold coins weren't a problem yet.
As I considered whether to give them money—
The Fourth Generation proposed.
«Oh, right... while we're at it, why not have them spread a rumor?»
The Sixth Generation spoke, sounding intrigued.
«Oh my, that could work quite well. A "too late to return" scenario wouldn't be bad either.»
The Third Generation followed along.
«It's decided then. Having a bard at a time like this would make things easy.»
The Seventh Generation said:
«Before those court rats get their hands on it, let's make it fact. It'll reach the Royal Capital quickly as well. Even if we can't move for several days, the rumor should spread enough. By the time they've mobilized to handle the situation, it'll already be too late... Splendid!»
Bards were those who told noteworthy events as tales, and sometimes sang songs and performed arts.
Most of them were Elves.
They lived in the forest, but being a hunter-gatherer people, they didn't settle down much. No—it would be more accurate to say they couldn't.
To sustain themselves, they traveled while singing, honing their crafts and performing to earn money.
Their lifestyle was often looked down upon, and there were even foreign spies who impersonated bards, which was why they were denied permanent settlement.
"Lord Lyle?"
Novem looked at me with concern.
"N-nothing. Let's send one person ahead first. Then, if there are any bards in the village, we can tell them about what happened."
Novem placed her hand on her chin, thinking.
"It could work. But there's no guarantee they'll be there."
"It's just a 'wouldn't it be nice' thing. If they're starving for entertainment, we can ask the villages we pass through to spread the word."
I decided to act on this and asked Clark to send someone ahead to the village.
(Still, if Clara can't move either, that really is a problem.)
I wanted everyone to be fit enough to travel by the time we reached the Royal Capital.
After staying two nights in the village and setting off, a strange atmosphere had indeed spread throughout the group.
Aria said—
"I want to... become a bird. I want to fly away, anywhere."
Miranda agreed.
"I know exactly how you feel. Lyle, be my birdcage."
I answered immediately.
"I have no idea what that means."
Clara held her hand to her mouth.
"With a spear for wings, flying freely across the battlefield—I understand. Miranda, wouldn't you be better off in a cell?"
(That's not something Clara would say!)
That's what I was thinking, but soldiers nearby were saying—
"When I get back, I'm going to propose to that girl!"
"Now I can finally thank my mom for everything! Thank you for giving birth to me!"
"...I'll pretend I didn't hear that."
The last soldier wore a dark expression as he looked at the cheerful soldiers.
Monica watched the scene and remarked:
"I wonder what that's about. It's entertaining, but none of them can hold a candle to the Chicken I just met. Every last one of them is putting on the brakes somewhere."
She was partly exasperated, but even more than that, she was directing expectant gazes my way.
Novem didn't know how to handle Clara's change.
As for Shannon—
"Help me! Aria's started reciting weird poems, and big sister's going on about love and romance, and I can't take it anymore!"
Shannon clung to me, crying, and I looked away.
"Give me a break! What am I supposed to do about that situation?!"
Aria suddenly—
"From a former viscount's young lady to a poor adventurer who's fallen so low... I wield this spear and bravely dash across the battlefield, but that's merely a facade. In truth, I'm more delicate than anyone, and starved for love."
Aria kept glancing at me, and I looked away from her too.
Clara said:
"Someone who, despite being a young lady, gets excited at the sight of blood and is told she'd have made a fine general if she were a boy—that's not someone you'd call weak or delicate. She's starved for blood, not love."
Miranda:
"Oh, this burning feeling in my heart—why won't it reach Lyle?!"
She wasn't just glancing—she was staring at me intensely, so I looked away again.
Clara said:
"It's not that it won't reach him—he's rejecting it. Reality is cruel."
Undeterted by Clara's sharp words, the two of them continued dredging up past they'd rather forget.
Novem said:
"Aria is the worst this time. Before, Lord Lyle was difficult, but I've never seen it this bad... She was only at the level of singing self-composed songs before."
I looked at Novem and said:
"Huh? Nobody told me about that."
"No, you were resting at the time, Lord Lyle."
If I'd known, I could've used it as leverage—thinking this, we had reached the halfway point to the Royal Capital.
And then—
(Enemies? Two Orcs.)
I looked toward the direction the enemies were approaching from.
With scouts posted, the group responded quickly.
"Two Orcs! Coming through the center!"
Two Orcs had apparently come through the center of the formation.
Everyone halted and prepared for battle, but those around us were in an extremely dangerous state after their growth.
The knights too—
There were fools saying things like, "I could take on an Orc with just a knife right now!"
(Should I handle this myself?)
"Novem, I'll take care of it. Have everyone hold position here."
"Huh? ...Y-yes!"
Rather than being surprised, it seemed Novem had been about to say something but held back—and she followed my instructions.
With only two Orcs, it wouldn't take long.
That's what I thought as I went to face them.
After the battle with the Orcs—
I was lying on the Porter's cargo bed.
"Wha—why is this happening?!!"
My body had suddenly lost all strength, accompanied by pain unlike anything I'd felt before.
Beyond the full-body muscle soreness, there was also the sensation of my consciousness fading from overusing mana.
Even shouting hurt, and Monica, who was nursing me, looked delighted.
"Nursing the Chicken... I won't yield this great duty to anyone."
Shannon said:
"Nobody wants it."
Inside the Porter were myself, Monica, and Shannon.
Outside, the cheerful expedition continued marching, and after defeating the Orcs, the signs of "growth" had arrived.
The Third Generation spoke with anticipation.
«It's here! Finally it's coming! Lyle!»
The Fourth Generation calculated:
«At this rate, before arriving at Central? Or just barely after...»
The Fifth Generation:
«The timing is once again...»
The Sixth Generation:
«Lyle always has this kind of luck. Besides luck, there's all sorts of... Pfft!»
Following the laughing Sixth Generation, the Seventh Generation also spoke:
«The Best Lyle Award for the first time in a while... This one looks promising.»
I muttered:
"K-keep laughing! This time I'm not meeting anyone. Absolutely not. I'm locking myself away for sure!"
My voice grew louder in the second half, and Shannon looked at me, exasperated.
"Has he lost his mind?"
Monica:
"Even if you do, I'll stay by your side to the end. Because that's my duty as the finest Automaton—Monica!"
Resolved to absolutely lock myself away once we reached the Royal Capital, I endured the pre-growth pain.
Having witnessed the pathetic displays of Aria and the others earlier, I steeled myself—this time, absolutely nothing would happen.
(I'm never going outside. That way, nothing that would make my ancestors burst out laughing can happen! That's right, I'll never repeat the same mistakes I've made before!)