Nozomanu Fushi no Boukensha (LN) - Volume 1 - Chapter SS

Side Story: The Day When Rentt Snapped ~Adventurer Lorraine’s Sixth Year~ 

“...Oh, if it isn’t Lorraine. How rare. Are you alone?” 

It was during my sixth year of adventuring that such a voice called out to me, just as I sat down in the tavern of Maalt, barely having the opportunity to work on my drink. The one who had called out to me was none other than Zarid, a veteran swordsman of the adventurer’s guild. 

Although he was a veteran of sorts, he was only an adventurer of upper-Bronze-class rank. On a whole, one couldn’t say Zarid was exceedingly capable, but his long years of service and efforts in defending Maalt against monster hordes meant that he was an adventurer worth his salt. 

Due to the fact that most adventurers lost their lives, or commonly a limb or two, Zarid only sported facial scars—the fact that his limbs were still intact was a clear indicator of his capabilities. 

To some, however, Zarid’s caution came across as cowardice, and they mocked his lack of “adventures” and the like. But such individuals were not exactly wise in their assessment. Courage, after all, was not a blind rampage and a series of unplanned gambles. The only ones who thought of it as such were surely bigger fools than Zarid ever could be. 

Zarid, of course, was no fool to begin with; he was merely frank, that much was true. Compared to Rentt, who was often said to have no talent, and my own reputation of being unmotivated, Zarid was a relatively good, if not honest and outspoken, adventurer. This was why I didn’t mind teaming up with him in a party at times, for I knew him well enough. 

“Even I am not coupled with Rentt every single time. To begin with, we probably spend more time apart from each other than together.” 

A somewhat annoying smile flitted across Zarid’s face as he heard my answer. 

“Is that right? You know, that bet between me and my mates is still going... That one about if you’ll ever get married to Rentt.” 

Zarid, however, didn’t seem to be exclusively making fun of me; to be precise, he seemed at least half-concerned, with the other half being his idea of a joke. I was, after all, 20 years old now. Perhaps it was because of this that Zarid said as much, with the notions of a woman being of age to “put down roots” or the like. 

Now that I thought about it, communications between my colleagues and myself since moving away from the capital all seemed to include offers to introduce me to someone. With that being said, it wasn’t like I’d never thought of marriage...but I wasn’t exactly hoping to be taken care of by someone, nor did I wish for it. 

My views on marriage were plain: if the time was right and the person in question was suitable, then that would be it. My married female friends, however, did not think much of my views. All they had to say was, “If you keep saying that, you’re never going to get married, you know!” But this was just a matter of policy; on that alone I was not willing to cede to their demands and complaints. 

To clarify, I would not simply settle for any random individual on the streets of Maalt, or anywhere else, for that matter. At the very least, all those letters and correspondence offering to introduce me to said individuals would never see their purpose fulfilled. 

“Do you people not tire of your bets? I personally would have gotten bored with it years ago. Could you just not watch over us? Surely you can do that much for an old friend.” 

“Ha! If watching alone made things happen, even I’d get married!” 

Zarid’s swift rebuttal reminded me of the fact that he was still single. This was perhaps a given, as such a lifestyle would be difficult to support, given his current adventurer rank. For an upper-Bronze-class adventurer, adventuring itself definitely brought in more coin than the average job in Maalt. If anything, they didn’t exactly need to work themselves to death to stay alive. The bigger question was if they could still live to see tomorrow. 

Dating, perhaps, wouldn’t be too much of an issue, but marriage was another matter altogether. If the adventurer’s partner in question was not an adventurer as well, said partner would have to steel themselves for the fact that the person they love may not come home every time they set foot outside Maalt’s gates. 

“I suppose I said something unnecessary. I apologize.” 

“Oh, no. I don’t mind. I say plenty of unnecessary things myself... That aside, though. If you’re here on your own, care to have a drink with me?” 

“What, now you’re turning your charms on me?” 

“Don’t be daft, Lorraine. I’m not the sort of individual who would be interested in a kid a few decades younger than myself,” Zarid said, an exasperated expression on his face. As if taking my words for an affirmation, he pulled up a chair from a nearby table, docking it against mine. 

In a well-trained motion, he flagged down a nearby waiter, placing an order for a large mug of ale, albeit on his tab. The establishment, being older than Zarid himself, was probably used to our antics at this point. 

If memory served, the current master of the tavern was the previous guildmaster of the adventurer’s guild. According to the rumors, he was a fearsome individual when he had served, with a single glance capable of silencing even the loudest crying child. It was a far cry from the jolly old man he had now become. 

If the gossip amongst my fellow adventurers was to be believed, he’d recently become a grandfather, his grandson having been born a while ago. As such, the developments in question were probably not that strange if one took that into account. 

“Are you not starved for love then? You were, after all, just complaining about being unable to get married a short while ago,” I said, posing the question to Zarid as I placed my own order. 

“I wouldn’t really want to say this to you, you being a woman and all, but certain establishments exist for that sort of thing, you know? Also... Getting married, especially for an adventurer, comes with all sorts of potential problems. For now, just someone to play around with is good enough. While Bronze-class adventurers earn enough to keep themselves afloat, many of them end up broke after their payday, anyway.” 

“So, I suppose you are of the latter? Have you gotten all your fortunes wrung out of you by one woman or another?” 

“Yeah, right down to the hairs on my behind. But then again... Ugh. The conversation has gotten kinda sad, hasn’t it?” 

“I don’t know about that. From the way you describe it, it almost seems like a personal tale of heroic achievement.” 

“That right? Heroic achievement, huh... Hmm?” 

Zarid’s commentary was unceremoniously interrupted by a commotion. A group of three adventurers had apparently made quite the loud entry into the tavern. 

From the looks of it, they didn’t seem older than twenty. They were built impressively and looked like the epitome of adventuring, but that only extended as far as their appearances. To my eye, their capabilities left much to be desired. 

“Hmph. Looks like we’ve got a few show-offs here. Sure they look strong, but that’s about it, isn’t it?” Zarid said in a relatively subdued voice, snorting with amusement. 

While one would think it was unbecoming of Zarid to be judgmental about the strength of others, such was not the case here. He was merely displeased with the way those adventurers had entered the establishment, perhaps rightfully so. 

After all, it wasn’t difficult for me to understand how he felt about the matter—everything from the way they had opened the tavern’s doors, to how they presented themselves, seemed to be for the sole purpose of intimidating other customers. 

In addition, they presented themselves in this fashion while knowing full well that this tavern was mainly frequented by other adventurers. It wasn’t difficult to understand why Zarid had taken issue with their behavior. 

“Verily so. I would say that you are at least ten times as strong, Zarid.” 

“Come now, wouldn’t that be at least a hundred times?” 

“But alas, lying would be unbecoming of me, Zarid. Even if we are dealing with ruffians who know nothing of manners... Hmm?” 

As those words left my lips, the trio that had just barged into the tavern looked in our direction, rapidly approaching me as they did so. Before long, they stood before me, with the one who seemed to be their leader addressing me in a markedly uncouth manner. 

“...Hey there, little lady. Aren’t you quite a pretty thing? Why don’t you come have some fun with us over there?” 

They were basically soliciting me for sexual services, perhaps implying that I was a prostitute of sorts. I had been in many situations similar to this before. Rentt had instructed me on how to escape from such situations, most likely out of concern for my safety. 

Still, I understood what they meant, and had more than enough means at my disposal to handle such an event. 

“Unfortunately, I am already occupied. As you can see, I am busy drinking with this gentleman here—perhaps you should try someone else.” 

The ruffian adventurer in question, however, pounded the table with his fist in response. 

“Just who the hell do you think we are, woman? You a fool? You should be tending to us, not this worthless sack of a man!” he said, evidently roused by my commentary. 

In this situation, the common woman being harassed would have cried out in fear, calling for help from one good Samaritan or another. Unfortunately, I was by no means common, or normal. 

While thoughts of becoming normal did cross my mind on occasion, the fonts of mana churning within me had other ideas about my future. 

Taking care to hide my intent, I began condensing the mana in me, weaving it slowly into a spell. While the delinquents didn’t suspect a thing, Zarid had already noticed, panicking as he raised a hand. 

“H-hey... You three...” I suppose Zarid was merciful. A warning was more than these individuals deserved. 

At that moment, however, a new guest entered the tavern. At the sight of them— 

“...Oh?” 

The mana within me welled up...and then stopped. I shelved the thought of launching a spell at the men—for now. 

Had I forgiven them? Of course not; that was beyond consideration. The reason for doing so was that I simply thought I no longer had a part in this show, mainly owing to the fact that a deadly aura was permeating from the guest who had just entered this tavern. 

I, too, was curious as to whom this aura belonged to. Craning my neck, I was surprised to see that the person in question was all too familiar. 

“...Rentt?” 

Yes, in the flesh—standing in the doorway of the tavern was my good friend, Rentt Faina. But Rentt was different from his usual jovial self; it almost seemed like he could kill someone. The contrast itself was stark enough for me to know how dangerous the current situation was. 

What exactly had happened...? 

As if to answer my question, Zarid spoke, a tinge of fear evident in his voice. 

“...This is bad. That guy... He’s completely snapped.” 

“Rentt... Snap...? Him? Really?” 

Zarid’s response to my question was slow and elaborate. 

“...Yeah. I suppose you wouldn’t know. Right... This was before your time. The last time was...when you were out on an errand, and the time before that was before you arrived in Maalt. Yes... That’s right.” 

“...What happened, then?” 

“Well...” 

“What exactly—huh? The men just now... Where did they go?” 

Before I knew it, the men who had been harassing me were gone, as if they were never here in the first place. This was strange, considering how much they were boasting about having fun with me. Now, they were gone, like smoke. 

“Oh... Those fellows? They ran out the back door after seeing Rentt. Like spooked rabbits, you know. They run pretty fast, don’t they?” 

“...Hmm. How very strange. I thought they would have some measure of courage...” 

Although the men in question had clearly mixed up the definition of courage and being boorish, I didn’t think that they were the type to simply up and run with their tails between their legs. 

“Well, Rentt probably did something to them before they got here, no?” 

“Hmm... I wouldn’t know. Is that true?” 

“An assumption, Lorraine. That’s all. You could certainly ask the man himself. Now, Rentt—what’s all this about?” Zarid said, gesturing pointedly. Turning my head in response, I came face to face with Rentt, who had apparently walked over to our table at some point. With a sour expression on his face, he placed an order for an ale before sitting down at the table with us. 

The aura that had radiated from him was now gone; not a single trace of it remained. 

“What’s this all about? Ugh, where do I even begin...? Those three are really hopeless. I suppose I’ll have to beat their bad behavior out of them. Seems like anything short of that wouldn’t work,” Rentt said, downing the ale in a single gulp. 

Seeing him this riled up was rare. With Rentt himself not providing much of an explanation, I turned to Zarid for answers. He, with an equally evident expression of displeasure on his face, answered my inquiry. 

“...Those fools were purposefully pulling monsters to new adventurers in the dungeon.” Zarid, who was usually unshaken by most things, furrowed his brow. 

“...I see. So, they are scum. Were they doing it on purpose?” 

“Pulling” was a common adventurer slang term—it referred to the action of leading monsters to other adventurers, then immediately escaping as the monster’s attention shifted. Although many adventurers did this without malice when they were running from monsters they couldn’t handle, certain unsavory types often did so with ill intent. 

This was why I asked Zarid if they were doing it on purpose since they were not exactly strong. 

Rentt, however, immediately shook his head. 

“No, that wasn’t the case. As you two have seen, that trio don’t have much in the way of actual skill. Although they were hunting monsters in the New Moon Dungeon, they ended up drawing the attention of about a dozen goblins, eventually pulling them to adventurers who were slowly hunting in the relatively safer parts of the New Moon.” 

“And what of those adventurers?” 

“They’re safe. They followed my instructions and were all led to safety—somehow.” 

While I would’ve thought of defeating them, I suppose a dozen goblins was indeed too much for Rentt. In addition, there were new adventurers he had to protect—in that regard, he made the right choice. 

New adventurers were not very good at escaping after all. The lack of such a skill would only serve to herald one’s death in the dungeons. Rentt, however, was particularly good at escaping from monsters and the like. 

“Was that all they did? Why are you so angry, then? Wouldn’t you normally have them reflect on their actions?” 

“...The thing is, this isn’t the first time it’s happened. I did some investigating and found out that this was the fifth time... Given the chance, they would definitely do it again to some unwitting new adventurer—but of course, a veteran would immediately escape when a band of fools like that comes near them.” 

“...I suppose there really is no saving people like that.” 

“That’s exactly right. Also, the ones I had saved were Yuris and his group...” 

If memory served, Yuris was of the new adventurers that had attended one of Rentt’s educational sessions at the guild. In fact, I’d even spoken with him once as he passed us by on the street after I had finished having a meal with Rentt. In this case, I suppose Rentt was referring to Yuris’s party. 

Rentt continued his explanation. 

“Yuris noticed the group enter the dungeon before his group today and thought that they would do the same thing again. So he told me about it. This was why I went with them, just to be sure. While it did all work out in the end, this cannot be allowed to continue. They did, after all, pull a dozen goblins to Yuris’s party, and who knows, they might do it again tomorrow, to some other adventurers I don’t know. Eventually, someone will lose their life. I have to stop them before something like that happens.” 

Zarid nodded at Rentt’s words. 

“All right. I get it. All we have to do is bring the hammer down on ’em, right? Shake ’em so hard they wouldn’t ever think of doing something like this again? Guess the three of us can give ’em a piece of our minds—beat it into ’em, even!” 

Zarid’s proposal was easy to understand. If a show of power was all that was needed, I could even do it by myself—in this case, with both Rentt and Zarid present, it would be all too easy. 

Rentt, however, shook his head. 

“...No. Could you two leave this to me?” 

“Hmm?” 

“While we could literally beat it out of them, it would leave a bad taste in their mouths. They might even think of revenge, or something worse. We’ll leave that option for last—but of course, if my plan fails, we can go with that.” 

From his words, it seemed like Rentt’s plan was already in motion; a plan that apparently did not involve violence. 

Zarid, however, immediately nodded. 

“Aye. I don’t mind. But Rentt... Do go easy on ’em, all right?” 

“Go easy? What do you mean? I’m not exactly strong, for one thing, so there’s no need for that. Well, I really should get going. I still have to look for them and all that, yes?” 

With that, Rentt reached into his pocket, pulling out some coin with the intent of paying for his drink; Zarid stopped him. 

“No need for that, Rentt. My treat.” 

“Really? All right then, I’ll take you up on that. See you around, Zarid.” 

And with that, Rentt was gone. Once again, I found myself alone with Zarid. 

“What exactly would ‘going easy’ entail?” 

I couldn’t help but notice this fact since Rentt was, as he himself had said, not very strong. While those three didn’t exactly stand much of a chance against Rentt, he could very well be in danger if he tried to show them any mercy. 

Zarid, too, should know this, which was why his words confused me. But Zarid glanced at me momentarily before taking yet another big swig from his tankard. 

“...You’ll see. Actually, you’ll understand better when you hear of the results. Oh, and Lorraine... Today’s my treat, too.” 

“Why so?” 

“If I’d chased those goons away the moment they approached you, you wouldn’t have had to do all that. Consider it an apology for not being enough of a gentleman.” 

“I don’t really mind... Well. I suppose I shall accept, on account of having had to swallow my pride on this occasion.” 

“My bad. Then I should get going for today. This whole thing has left a bad taste in my mouth. I don’t really feel like drinking anymore. Oh, and...do ask after Rentt about the outcome for me. Don’t forget, now!” 

“Of course.” 

And with that, we parted ways for the day. 

A few days later— 

“...What exactly is that?” 

Zarid’s voice rang out from behind me. “The three idiots who tried to pick you up for some ‘fun,’ no?” 

I turned around, and as expected, there stood Zarid. 

“I can see that, but what is it exactly they are doing...?” 

With that, I turned to look at the three fools once more. This was, after all, the entrance to the New Moon Dungeon. The three of them, however, were on their knees at the entrance, apologizing to every adventurer who entered. 

According to Zarid’s explanation, they were apologizing for their behavior of pulling monsters toward other adventurers—and yet, something seemed off. 

“I must say, though, I have never seen anyone repent with such vigor and enthusiasm.” 

“What, you haven’t heard about it from Rentt?” Zarid asked, cocking his head to one side. 

I had, of course, little choice but to ask for clarification. 

“So... After that incident at the tavern last time, Rentt apparently found them without too much trouble. He confirmed where they were staying and all that, and asked the owner of the boarding house there to give him their personal information: name, birthplace, all ’o that. Then he left.” 

“...So in the end, Rentt didn’t meet with them in person right away?” 

“Seems like it. Everything else happened after that, though... The very next day, those fools were chased out of their rooms.” 

“...All thanks to Rentt, I suppose. He must have informed the landlord of their behavior.” 

“More or less. But wait, there’s more! Apparently, they tried to stop by other boarding houses, but they all got turned down.” 

“But it gets better! the fools try to buy food, but none of the shops will serve ’em. Even the smithies rejected servicing their weapons. And of course, everyone on the street has been giving them cold stares. That’s what they were dealing with these past three days.” 

“Rentt sure seems to have many...connections.” 

“And when they finally thought they could buy food, the establishment in question demanded a whole gold coin for it! The townsfolk would pour water on ’em, and for some reason even birds saw fit to crap on ’em. Bad things would just happen to them over and over again as they walked the streets of Maalt—well, you get the picture.” 

“Was it not obvious that they were being intentionally harassed...?” 

“I suppose it was—it did go on for a while after all. So, they go to the guards to complain... Only to be told by those very same city guards that they were guilty of doing the same thing. In fact, everyone they spoke to took issue with their bad deeds—and this went on for the last few days. They were pretty close to breaking, I’d reckon. 

“Of course, they aren’t literally that dumb—it was evident to them from the start who was pulling the strings. To be precise, Rentt purposely let them know he was the one responsible—and this was how they ended up going to Rentt, apologizing for their misdeeds and all that.” 

“And...this, is the result? Their repentance, I suppose?” 

“Well, everyone they’d caused trouble for did forgive them in the end—pretty nice ending to the story, huh?” 

“Verily so. To be honest, I think it strange there were no fatalities from this incident. But with this, the issue was settled without anyone pining for revenge or some such—I suppose it is indeed a clean end to things.” 

“Exactly. Rentt isn’t a person to be messed with, and I pity the fools who don’t know this...” Zarid said, his voice almost subdued as he did so. 

To clarify, I wasn’t referring to adventurers who could have ended up dead from the trio’s bad behavior. I referred to the seemingly fatal end that awaited those three individuals—after all, the ire of an adventurer was quite a nasty thing. If they had taken one wrong step or turn, it wouldn’t have been strange for the three of them to have been brutally murdered under the cover of night. 

This, among other reasons, was why adventurers were encouraged to observe basic dungeon manners during their explorations. These three clowns in question lacked that understanding, and by ending up on the wrong side of Rentt, incurred his wrath. Perhaps it would be more accurate to call this a life lesson. 

In the end, however, the trio sincerely apologized for their actions, and no one was hurt, all thanks to Rentt’s efforts. 

Although this was by no means a situation that one could laugh at, everyone had ended up laughing at the somewhat uneventful outcome. I, of all people, knew that it wasn’t exactly easy to orchestrate an outcome like this—and that was why I said as such: 

“Rentt Faina... Truly a man to fear.” 

I subdued my voice as an homage to Zarid’s lengthy explanation. Maybe I would treat him to an ale or something of the sort today—after all, we could both use a good drink.