The Kingdom of Biherril.
Located on the eastern edge of the northern
Its national power was nothing impressive, but it boasted three major cities.
The cities were: The central capital, Biherril. The second city, Irel, to the south near the forest. The third city, Heirelur, to the east facing the sea.
There was nothing particularly noteworthy about the country.
Well, if you wanted to call it a feature, the land was disproportionately large relative to its national power.
Despite possessing no more military strength than its neighbors, its territory was twice theirs.
Two countries were connected by highways.
And yet, no one ever invaded the Kingdom of Biherril.
In the eastern part of these Northern Lands, a long era of warlords contending for power had persisted.
So why was the Kingdom of Biherril, with its insufficient military for such vast territory, never attacked?
Behind that reason lay the existence of the demon race.
The Kingdom of Biherril maintained deep ties with the demon race living on Onigashima, the island floating alone out at sea.
Long ago.
That said, it was after the
At that time, there was no exchange between the demon race living on the island and the humans living at the edge of the Northern Lands.
Or perhaps there had been some minor interactions with those living along the coast, but certainly nothing that would let demons stride freely through human towns as they pleased.
The demons of that era had a problem.
The demons living on the island were being invaded by the fishmen who lived in the sea.
The demons fought back. They were a warrior race, after all, but the disparity in military strength was too great.
If things continued like this, they would eventually be wiped out or reduced to the fishmen's slaves.
And then, a human adventurer party appeared before the demons.
They had come to the island after hearing a rumor that Onigashima held treasures of gold and silver.
What sort of people they were exactly, I couldn't say in detail, but they were most likely a four-person party: a swordsman, a dog, a monkey, and a pheasant.
Adventurers who dreamed of battle and treasure.
What they found instead was the demons in their hour of need.
Warriors reduced in number by fighting, their bodies covered in wounds that never healed.
The demon women living in fear.
The demon children whose smiles had vanished…
Seeing this, the adventurers rose to action.
Their sense of justice was ignited.
They swore on the spot to help the demons, negotiated with the Demon God of that era, and together with the demon warriors, infiltrated the dungeon the fishmen had made their stronghold.
After a fierce battle to the death, they slew the fishmen's chieftain.
But the cost was steep.
The entire human adventurer party was annihilated, save for the swordsman who led them.
The human swordsman, having lost his companions, grieved and mourned.
The Demon God, moved by his devotion and feeling a debt of gratitude, became his lifelong friend and swore that the entire demon race would help him henceforth…
And then—the shocking truth.
As it turned out, that swordsman was actually the prince of a brand-new kingdom across the sea!
The prince returned to his country and, after becoming king, exchanged vows with the demon race to protect each other.
From that day on, humans and demons lived together in peace, hand in hand.
And that, in broad strokes, is the founding legend of the Kingdom of Biherril.
How much of it is true, I couldn't say.
Regardless, protected by the demon race, the Kingdom of Biherril maintained its territory despite possessing vast lands with poor soil and military strength that didn't match, all without suffering invasion from other nations.
That was the Kingdom of Biherril.
--- I was one of the three heading for the second city, Irel.
My companions were three.
A man in ochre armor who introduced himself as one of
His subordinate, it seemed—a man in dark gray armor named Doga.
And me.
I used the magic tools the two had brought to alter my face, donned the magical armor "Type-2 Modified," and over that, additional plate armor.
Furthermore, mounted on the back of the Type-2 Modified was the magic tool
The mechanism worked like this: by pressing buttons near the waist while channeling mana, a scroll corresponding to the pressed button would activate automatically.
Five scrolls on each hand, ten in total.
Since I didn't need to pull out scrolls one by one, it was highly convenient.
However, because the scrolls needed to be activatable in a folded state—thick scrolls, at that—the result was a bulky contraption like a school backpack.
The shape looked suspiciously like it was meant to dispense some kind of propellant, so I named it the "Scroll Vernier."
The second machine in the Roxy series, right after the Gatling.
Magical armor, Scroll Vernier, plate armor.
With all of that equipped and a cloak draped over the whole ensemble, I apparently looked like a giant over two meters tall walking around in full armor.
As disguises went, it was perfect.
The cover story was that I was a practitioner of the North God Style on a warrior's pilgrimage, traveling around doing bodyguard work and the like—I'd drifted to this area looking for strong opponents, with no particular reason.
Visually, it should appear that the leader, Shandor, was accompanied by two large men.
For the record, my alias was Clay.
Our mode of transport was a horse-drawn cart.
At the moment, I was one of three armored knights, jolting along in a cargo cart.
Three knights decked out in full plate armor.
It seemed like it would stand out, but in this world, it wasn't such a rare sight.
In the magic city of Sharia you rarely saw adventurers in plate armor, but in the Kingdom of Biherril, you'd regularly pass groups like this on the road.
During the journey by cart, the three of us exchanged proper introductions.
Shandor von Grandol.
Commander of the Golden Knights of the
He'd originally been a mercenary, wandering from place to place.
He'd spent a long time in conflict zones, but relocated to the Asura Kingdom for Ariel's coronation.
He'd taken a liking to Ariel's voice and appearance, and after many attempts to find a way to serve under her, he caught Ariel's eye and seized the opportunity to make his case. That was how he'd risen to his current position.
Hearing that, it sounded like he was just good at flattering people— But then again, Ariel wouldn't hand the position of knight commander to someone whose only talent was kissing up.
He must have had something that shone.
When I asked Ariel about him directly, she told me he had no dark spots and was a trustworthy individual.
Of course, she wouldn't tell me his true background. "Oh, I don't know that either~ Hehe~ Guess it's a secret~"—that was the general vibe of her response.
But as long as he genuinely was one of Ariel's knights and not an impostor, that was good enough.
The Golden Knights.
For something with that name, their armor wasn't particularly shiny.
Depending on the lighting, it might pass for gold, or perhaps it would gleam if polished.
But as it was, it wasn't gold—it was yellow.
The Yellow Knights.
Oh, that actually sounded kind of strong. Like Yellow Number 14 or something.
"Wait, did the Asura Kingdom even have a Golden Knights before…?"
I was pretty sure there were White Knights and Black Knights, but I didn't recall gold ones.
"It was established after Her Majesty's coronation. Our official duty is to serve as Her Majesty Ariel's personal guard, but upon Her Majesty's orders, we will go anywhere and do anything—even using the forbidden teleportation magic circles."
In other words, Ariel's private army.
"I've heard it was originally created to provide support to our allies."
"Oh?"
They'd established a new unit for us?
How loyal. And how terrifying.
What would Ariel demand of us in the future?
I just wished
"It's new, so our numbers are small, but we're all elite.
I've dabbled in the North God Style myself, you know."
Shandor said this with a smile, but he wasn't carrying a sword.
"For someone who claims that, you don't seem to carry one?"
"I thought this was stronger than a sword."
He spun a metal rod with a whoosh.
He was a staff fighter, apparently.
A staff user—the first I'd seen in this world.
Part of the reason was that in this world, long-handled weapons weren't favored due to the influence of the Superd race, and swordsmanship had developed considerably as a result.
That said, with the North God Style, it wouldn't be strange to see someone wielding any kind of weapon.
He didn't seem to be a swordsman anymore, but the North God Style had included ninja-like fighters too.
"Reach is always an advantage."
"Exactly. That's right.
The Sword God Style sends slashes flying to impossible distances.
The Water God Style deflects attacks from any distance.
That's why they're strong. So if that's the case, don't fixate on swords—just use a long weapon from the start."
A straightforward theory.
In my previous life, this kind of logic had prevailed, and weapon reach had kept increasing.
But in this world, things were different.
If that theory held, swordsmen wouldn't be treated as special.
Swordsmen were strong because healing magic could mend wounds instantly, and in a world where creatures with absurdly high vitality existed, being able to take down an enemy in a single blow was what mattered.
So unfortunately, Shandor's staff technique was the shallow wisdom of the weak.
It might work against humans, but against magical beasts with high healing abilities, he'd be at a disadvantage.
"This is Doga, also a member of the Golden Knights."
"…Yeah."
Doga.
No surname.
Originally from the Donati domain of the Asura Kingdom.
He'd been a soldier in the Asura Kingdom's army.
A gate guard at the entrance to the royal capital.
But when Shandor, newly appointed commander of the Golden Knights, recognized his ability and recruited him.
"You do recruiting too?"
"Building the ideal knight order is part of the commander's job. I plan to keep bringing in strong and useful people!"
The commander's job, huh.
Come to think of it, the escort squad for the Millis Saint had its leader, Therese, as the weakest member.
In any organization, the leader didn't need to be the strongest.
What mattered was the ability to command.
"But for something called the Golden Knights, Doga's armor doesn't look very golden, does it?"
"Ha ha ha, of course it doesn't. What kind of idiot wears flashy armor outside of ceremonies?"
Fair point.
So Shandor's armor, too, must normally gleam much brighter.
"Ah! I get it now. That's why you looked so suspicious when I showed my letter. If that's the case, I should've worn ceremonial armor."
"Well, it's not exactly that…"
Shandor laughed cheerfully.
He didn't seem like a bad person.
But the
Orsted and Ariel had both said he was fine, but I'd keep my guard up just in my own case.
"By the way, there's surprisingly little snow around here."
When Shandor pointed this out, I looked around.
The plains were lightly dusted with snow.
But only enough that you could still travel comfortably by cart.
Even so, it didn't seem enough for farming.
The exposed ground was barren, and what looked like fields had nothing growing in them.
From even a distance, you could tell the soil here was nutrient-poor.
When people spoke of the Northern Lands, they meant buried under snow during this season.
But the Kingdom of Biherril had far less snow than I'd expected.
The wind was cold and dry, though.
It was just that there was less snow.
"Maybe it's the mountains' influence?"
"The mountains?"
"The mountains to the west are blocking the clouds, so the snow doesn't reach this far—something like that."
"My, how knowledgeable you are, Lord
"I'm not sure I'm right, though."
The weather in this world didn't follow the common sense of my previous one.
After all, the Great Forest had experienced three straight months of rain, and a continent with no particular reason to become a desert had become one.
It was entirely possible that the mountains had nothing to do with it, and it was simply the magic of the forest to the west acting up and preventing the snow.
"My uncle was also an enthusiastic sort when it came to such matters."
"Oh? Was he researching something?"
"He'd spend entire days gazing up at the sky, musing about where the clouds came from and where they flowed, where humans were born and where they went when they died…"
A philosopher, perhaps.
But yeah.
If I ever got old, I wouldn't mind spending my days like that.
After turning sixty, sitting alongside
Ah… wait, Sylphie had long-eared blood, and Roxy was Migurd, so they'd probably stay young forever.
Maybe I was the only one who'd lose it.
"That sounds rather philosophical."
"Philosophical?"
"Philosophy is—ah, monsters."
"Leave it to me."
Along the way, we were attacked by magical beasts several times.
True to the description of a country with many forests, the highway sometimes ran right alongside the woods.
During those encounters, I got to see their capabilities, and as you'd expect from the strongest in the Asura Kingdom, they clearly had solid skill.
Shandor, agile and technically brilliant, and Doga, who crushed opponents in a single blow with his massive axe.
They looked the part, and to be blunt, they were no more or no less than what their appearance suggested.
That said, they were at least swordsmen-class and probably upper-tier.
Against the truly powerful, they'd be a burden, but at least they wouldn't be a hindrance along the road.
By the time I'd confirmed that, we arrived at the second city, Irel.
--- The second city, Irel.
On the surface, it was a thoroughly unremarkable city.
Surrounded by walls, with street vendors lining the entrance.
The most common layout in this world.
Compared to the magic city of Sharia, it had more wooden construction—that might be its defining feature.
Wooden buildings with steeply pitched roofs stood with modest gaps between them.
Surrounded by forests, this country naturally had an abundance of timber.
We left the horses and cart at a stable and walked toward our inn.
That was when I noticed something: the number of street vendors felt sparse.
The place was somewhat subdued.
If it were simply a lack of customers discouraging merchants from setting up, that would make sense—but there were plenty of adventurers who could serve as customers.
I'd been passing armored warriors and robed mages regularly.
The number of vendors didn't match the number of adventurers.
Was there some reason for this, or was it within the normal range of variation…?
"Oops—"
While walking and looking around, I nearly bumped into a passerby.
"Whoa…"
The guy was massive.
He must have been around two and a half meters tall.
Even with the bulk of my armor, I had to look up.
If a race called Half-Giants existed, this was probably what they'd look like.
His skin was a reddish brown, and his hair was a dark red.
His entire body was covered in muscle—thick arms, thick legs, thick neck.
Most notable was his head.
A huge head.
The lower jaw was abnormally large and jutted out.
What showed from his mouth were fangs.
Two fangs protruded upward from the lower jaw.
And from his thick, dark red hair, two horns stuck out.
He was a demon.
"Watch it."
The demon I'd nearly collided with gave me that curt warning and a glance before continuing down the street.
He carried a massive load on his back, but combined with his enormous frame, it looked light.
This was my first time seeing a demon up close. Quite intimidating.
Here in the Kingdom of Biherril, the demon race walked freely through the streets.
The people of the country accepted this and behaved as though their presence was only natural.
Treating a specific race as fellow citizens wasn't something you saw easily in other countries.
"Clay, stop gawking. You're not some country bumpkin."
"Huh? Oh, right…"
Shandor snapped at me.
Calling me by my alias in a different tone from our usual travel conversation—that was all part of the disguise.
"There ain't anyone worth a damn around here anyway. Looking around's a waste of time."
"Fair point."
Right. We were practitioners of the North God Style.
We needed to look like we only cared about finding strong opponents.
Otherwise, the whole disguise would be wasted.
"Let's get the inn first. Clay, Doga, got it?"
"Mm."
"…Yeah."
Doga on the driver's seat was his usual self, but Shandor was playing his role to the letter, exactly as we'd planned.
With Shandor moving as the leader, my own presence was naturally concealed.
I was Clay, Shandor's junior brother. Occupation: warrior.
Alright.
"Shandor. Celebratory drink—once we've got the inn sorted, how about we hit a tavern and liven things up?"
"Heh, you never do anything useful, but every now and then you come up with a solid idea. Take notes, Doga."
"…Yeah."
After that exchange, we headed for the inn.
--- The moment I stepped into the tavern, something felt off.
"…Hm?"
Different from other taverns.
But as far as I could see, it was a normal one.
More adventurers than usual, a decent number of townsfolk too.
About ten to twenty percent of the patrons were demons, but that wasn't the source of the unease.
A tavern crowded with various races wasn't unusual.
So what was it?
I wasn't drawing any particular attention.
There wasn't anyone weird.
There wasn't anything strange.
But the feeling persisted.
"What's wrong, Clay?"
"Does anything seem off about this place?"
He glanced around.
But he apparently didn't sense what I was feeling.
"…I don't know. Should we leave?"
Shandor suggested quietly.
"No. I want to figure out what's causing this."
"Understood."
Shandor said this and walked into the tavern with a notably casual demeanor, finding an empty table and taking a seat.
I followed along, practically pushed by Doga.
When Doga sat down, the chair let out a strangled creak.
The chairs in this tavern were unusually large and sturdy.
When sitting in magical armor you normally had to be careful, but these seemed fine for a normal seat.
Was that the source of the unease?
No, surely not.
"Here—just order whatever for food, drinks, and someone who knows the ins and outs of this area. Hurry up, we've been traveling for ages. Ah, for the big guy over there, give him something other than alcohol—fruit juice, livestock milk, or water if there's nothing else."
While I was preoccupied with the chair, Shandor was tossing a handful of copper coins at the server.
"Coming right up!"
Oh, the server was a demon too. A female demon.
Maybe because she was female, she was slimmer than the male demons.
Tall, with a large bust… but overall looking more human-like.
Could she be a half?
My unease—wasn't this.
"I told you to stop gawking."
"…Sorry."
Shandor rapped me on the head.
"But that doesn't mean you should hit me."
"What's that? You talking back to me?"
His tone was rough, but Shandor's eyes weren't threatening.
He was simply telling me that my behavior was suspicious and I needed to watch it.
"No, I'm not… but I feel kind of restless."
"Restless? Got a bad feeling?"
"Not exactly… bad."
This unease didn't feel unpleasant.
If anything, I felt like I'd been searching for this feeling for a long time.
It probably wasn't the case, but it wasn't as if
I wanted to figure out what this sensation was.
And every time I thought that, I couldn't help but look around.
The tavern was full of noise and commotion.
Just an ordinary tavern.
People laughing, people arguing.
Most were drinking and eating heartily.
The food was nothing unusual either—just the kind of river fish stew you'd find anywhere.
But something in my head kept insisting something was off.
Something that other taverns didn't have was here.
"So you guys are the ones asking for information."
A man approached our table.
Human.
A rat-faced fellow with shifty eyes.
"You the go-to guy around here?"
"That's right. I know everything about this town—adventurer party counts, peddler supply routes, even the weapons shop owner's mistress."
"Then tell us the lay of the land. We just got here and want to avoid trouble."
Shandor said this while pressing a few copper coins into the man's palm.
"This much won't get you much."
"I'm not after anything big right now. But if you really are as well-connected as you say, I might come to you for job referrals later… right?"
When Shandor turned to me, I flashed a confident grin.
My current face was supposed to be a tough-looking mercenary from the Rudeus Mercenary Group, so it should carry some intimidation.
"Heh, that's a scary look."
The information broker shrugged at my smile and turned back to Shandor.
"So what do you want to know?"
"Basically, what passes for common sense in this town—who controls what turf, the layout, who you shouldn't make enemies of… Oh, and if there's anything happening around here that could turn into a job lead, let us know."
"Sure."
I wouldn't ask about Geese right off the bat.
Couldn't appear too eager.
We were supposed to be practitioners of the North God Style—rough-and-tumble types, almost like mercenaries. We had no business with some small-time demon.
"Common sense? Not many rules to speak of.
As long as you follow the country's laws, you can get by in this town.
Oh, but watch out for the demon thing. The people here are close with the demons. Even if you're a devout Millis follower, keep any insults toward demons to yourself."
"What happens if we say something?"
"Vendors won't sell to you, innkeepers won't give you rooms. Even this tavern—the proprietress is a demon. You could get banned, or served rotten food."
Demons were good neighbors.
So if you insulted them, it was the humans who'd get angry, not the demons.
Sharia was fairly tolerant of other races too, but there was still a line.
Here, they mixed and lived together in a way you didn't see elsewhere.
"As for geography… roughly, go north and you'll reach the capital, go south and there's one village.
No name to speak of, just a tiny hamlet, but with a few woodcutters stationed there year-round, they're decent against magical beasts.
To the southeast there's a dungeon too. Exact location… extra charge."
"Tell me."
Shandor produced a few more copper coins and pushed them across.
I got the dungeon's location.
I had no plans to go, but it couldn't hurt to know.
After that settled, the conversation circled back.
"As for who you shouldn't make enemies of—like I said, the demons.
In this country, demons are treated the same as humans.
Then there's… ah, right. Not an enemy exactly, but there's a place you should stay away from.
The Valley of Earth Dragons."
The Valley of Earth Dragons.
That was a significant keyword.
The report said Ruijerd had been spotted near a village by that valley.
"The valley is deep inside a thick forest… and that forest is called the 'Forest of No Return.' Since ancient times, there have been tales of invisible demons appearing there, so entry has been forbidden."
"Invisible demons?"
"Well… invisible demons are basically a fairy tale to scare kids.
What actually lives in the Valley of Earth Dragons are, true to the name, earth dragons.
If some reckless adventurer stumbled into that forest and disturbed their nesting grounds…
The whole country could be crushed by a raging horde of earth dragons… That's probably why it was sealed off."
The man furrowed his brow as if suddenly recalling something.
"But here's the thing. Recently—well, about a year ago—a rumor started spreading that a demon had come out of the Forest of No Return."
"Oh?"
"The local lord organized an investigation team and sent them into the forest.
But the team never came back by the scheduled date.
Were they killed by the invisible demon? Did they blunder into an earth dragon's nest? Or were they just taken out by ordinary monsters? All sorts of rumors flew around.
But they weren't completely wiped out.
Just when the lord had given up on the first team's survival and was about to send a second one…
One man came walking back."
The man leaned forward slightly and fixed me with a serious expression.
The atmosphere was getting kind of spooky.
Look at Shandor, not me.
"But the man had lost his mind.
He'd clearly been through something terrible.
When the lord asked what happened, he just stared blankly and mumbled, 'There was a demon… a demon…' Seeing this, the lord apparently got frightened too, and from then on, stopped sending investigation teams.
The investigation team's fate was officially recorded as having been killed by earth dragons, a gag order was issued, and no one was permitted to speak of the incident…
The truth was buried in darkness, filed away as one of many unsolved cases.
That was… about half a year ago."
"…"
"But that should have been the end of it.
Recently, though, the story reached the king.
The king declared, 'There are villages nearby! How can we simply leave this unknown threat unaddressed!' He decided to organize an extermination team.
And now, capable fighters are being gathered in the capital."
The man looked up.
"That's the story. For the one who uncovers the demon's true identity and slays it, there's a special reward of ten Biherril gold coins. Sounds like job material, doesn't it?"
So that's how it was.
An invisible demon.
It didn't quite match the information I'd heard about Ruijerd's sighting…
Maybe it went like this?
First, Ruijerd went to the village for some reason and was pointed out as a demon.
'A demon appeared near the Forest of No Return.' That got mixed with the information that 'the Forest of No Return has invisible demons,' Which became 'an invisible demon came out of the forest.' Rumors picked up embellishments along the way—information got twisted.
The mercenary guild's intelligence network had luckily obtained the data before it got mixed together. The fact that I'd been specifically looking for that kind of information probably helped too.
Though the reverse was also possible.
'An invisible demon really did come out' → 'Speaking of demons, the Superd race' → 'Come to think of it, the one who appeared had green hair'—a chain like that…
Wait, no—that still didn't explain the part about buying medicine.
Well, who knew what embellishments rumors could accumulate.
But if it was Ruijerd, he could easily wipe out an investigation team without being detected.
Why would he do something like that?
Was there something in the forest he didn't want seen, something he didn't want known?
Hmm…?
"Ah, that's a big help. I see… that does sound interesting. Right, Clay? You think so too?"
"Definitely. A demon, huh? Sounds worth looking into. Ten gold coins in reward money isn't bad either."
I answered casually, but my head was full of other thoughts.
Regardless, I had to go into that forest.
With all this information surfacing, I couldn't believe it had nothing to do with Ruijerd.
"But if the reward's for the one who kills it, then it's first come, first served, right?
It'll probably be party-based participation.
We're not adventurers, so if we're going to join, we'd want some support."
Shandor gave me a glance.
Got it.
"Right. Let's get someone to help us search."
"Good. Information broker. Additional fee."
Shandor stacked a few more copper coins in front of the man.
"Find us a thief.
Criteria: someone with broad adventuring skills, and the more skilled at information gathering, the better.
Low combat ability is fine—we'll handle the fighting.
As for payment… how about this—when we find the right person, we'll go to them directly to negotiate."
"Deadline?"
"Before the extermination team's deadline, if possible… that's still a ways off, right?"
"A month away at least."
"Then let's say ten days from now, same tavern—how about that?"
"Sure, leave it to me."
The man pocketed the copper coins and slipped them into his robe.
Then he stood, merged into the tavern's noise, and vanished in an instant.
Impressive work, Shandor.
He'd obtained information about the forest and extended the search for Geese.
We couldn't get any leads on the North God, but given how the conversation flowed, that couldn't be helped.
I wished I could learn more of these kinds of skills.
"You're really something."
"My wife was good at this kind of negotiation. I picked it up naturally just watching her up close."
He was married?
Then I definitely needed to get him home to her safely.
Whoops—I slipped into the wrong tone.
"Ahem. So, what do we do now?"
"We wait for information, but ten days with nothing to do is going to be boring… Let's stretch our legs somewhere. Doga, anywhere you want to go?"
"…Want to see the woodcutters."
"Then let's do a quick reconnaissance trip to the southern village too."
We made it sound like a spontaneous decision, but of course, going to the southern village had been the plan from the start.
Ten days.
Based on what I'd heard, the village was a day's journey at most.
Tomorrow, set up the magic circle and communication magic stone in the morning, then move to the village.
The day after, or the next, enter the forest and spend five to six days searching.
After that, come back, get Geese's information from the broker, and report via magic stone.
That was the plan.
"Here you go! Sorry for the wait!"
Just as I was thinking this, the food arrived.
Fish stew, and drinks alongside.
In front of Doga sat some kind of dark liquid.
Some kind of juice, maybe? I'd have him let me try it later.
Now, I wasn't planning to get drunk in this pressing situation.
But coming to a tavern and not drinking would itself draw attention.
Just one cup.
"Well then—to our success."
"Cheers!"
"…Cheers."
We clinked cups and took a swig.
A sharp liquid spread through my mouth, and my throat caught fire.
But the aftertaste was smooth— "—Pffft!"
Doga spat out the dark liquid.
"Cough… cough…"
"What!?"
While everyone around us looked over to see what had happened, Doga bent over, choking.
I hurriedly placed a hand on his back and began chanting a detoxification spell.
But Doga was dangling his mouth toward the ground, drool dripping in a thin stream.
"Hey, snap out of it!"
Damn it, what had he been given to drink?!
Poison!?
I knew it—my unease from before!
Something was wrong!
I still didn't know what, exactly…!
Would the detox work?
Calm down. This was exactly when I needed to be calm.
First, I needed to figure out what was in that drink…
"You! What did you give him!?"
"Oh, I'm so sorry!"
As Shandor pressed the server, I forced myself to stay composed and reached for Doga's half-finished cup.
First, I dabbed some on my finger and tasted it.
This flavor—it was exactly as I'd thought.
"I thought he was one of the demon race because of his large build… I'm terribly sorry for the mistake!"
"I'm asking you what you gave him to drink!"
I dabbed the liquid on my finger and tasted it again.
This taste. Confirmed.
"It's a drink made from beans that the demon race loves, but it's too intense for humans, so we usually dilute it… I'm very sorry!"
"So it's not poison!?"
"Well, if a human drinks too much it can become toxic… but just a mouthful should be fine."
"Damn it! Hey, Doga, are you okay!? Hey!"
While Shandor panicked, I was regaining my composure.
Come to think of it, I'd been smelling this scent ever since we entered the tavern.
It was probably used in the fish stew too.
That was the source of my unease.
And at the same time, I now knew what the drink was.
It could be toxic in excess, but Doga had spit almost all of it out.
He'd probably feel a little queasy, but nothing serious.
"…"
I dipped my finger in the dark liquid once more and tasted it.
Yeah.
This was it.
No mistake.
As if I could be wrong.
This was soy sauce.