3
The inn was huge.
This did not refer to its architectural footprint, but the overall size of the entire building; each door was at least four meters tall. However, it still would not be able to accommodate large races like Giants, and so to put it bluntly, their attempts to appeal to everyone failed to win over anyone.
Suzuki Satoru pushed open the weighty doors.
Contrary to how they appeared, the doors swung open easily. He had not used much force — even a child should have been able to push them open.
This was probably an inn cum restaurant, given that there were people sitting around and drinking in the middle of the day. They looked surprised to see Suzuki Satoru’s mask.
He ignored their reaction and then he noticed the bartender. “I see, no wonder the inn was built so large,” Suzuki Satoru mused.
The bartender was a massive man standing over two and a half meters, and he had a massive horn protruding from his forehead which pointed to the sky.
He was massively muscled, and his well-developed pectorals bulged out his white uniform. He did not look like the owner so much as a bouncer, and truth to be told he might have been just that.
Before him, Suzuki Satoru was like a child again. He walked straight towards the man and got up onto one of the stools beside the bar with some effort.
“I’d like a room for two, for one night. Will that be a problem?”
“Not at all — and I have to apologize, little man, our chairs here aren’t too suitable for smaller folk.”
Is he mocking me? Suzuki Satoru thought. However, his face implied that he was not doing so, which meant that he was being sincere.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”
“Given the size of your little buddy, I could recommend you a few other good inns, but those wouldn’t fit you too well, little man. There are also inns suitable for big guys for you… but they’re of a lower standard. If you don’t mind, I can tell you about them.”
“I have no intention of lowering the standards of my accommodations.”
While there were many ways to entertain oneself during a journey, living in luxury was essential for the pair, since they could not enjoy good food, Therefore, they always lodged in the highest-end inns whenever they went to a city.
“Is that so? Then, how about the room? Even the bed in a single room would be enough for the two of you, which would also be cheaper.”
“There’s no need for that. I am not short of money. Give me a double room.” The innkeeper whistled.
“I wish I could do whatever I wanted, just like you. Go ahead and throw your money at me then. Let’s see…” The innkeeper bent down, and when he came up again he had a key in his hand. “Take this. Oh yes, may I ask how you two honored guests arrived here?”
“We took a covered wagon. The soldier who came by earlier is taking care of it. Our goods are only a few bags of grain.”
“Oh, then how about the beast pulling your wagon? Feed will be extra, and so is having a groom take care of it.”
“It is a Golem Horse. It doesn’t need care or feeding.”
“Huh!” The innkeeper suddenly exclaimed. “So there were things like that. I guess I’m not up to date on these things. Well done.”
Suzuki Satoru could sense that the patrons who had been quietly drinking at first were now all focused on him. Had the topic of a Golem caught their interest, or had they unconsciously looked over in response to the innkeeper raising his voice?
They haven’t looked away after a while, so it should be the former, Suzuki Satoru thought.
If it were the latter, they would have lost interest quickly. Since they had not looked away, it would seem they knew something about Golems.
Is it because there are Golems working in the city, or have all travelers heard of such things?
“Acquiring this Golem Horse cost me a pretty penny. Oh, how much are the room fees? Ah yes, could you omit the cost for meals? We’re planning to head outside to sample the local delicacies.”
The innkeeper was briefly suspicious, but then he accepted Suzuki Satoru’s explanation immediately. Perhaps he had remembered the guards’ description of Suzuki Satoru.
“Ah, so that’s how it’s going to be, little man. Er — yeah, that might be for the best. You might be able to hold it in, but I think your little buddy won’t be able to take it.”
“Won’t be able to take it?”
“Well, our portions are enough to fill our bellies. A big helping’s around two kilos. Can you finish that much?”
“Impossible.”
The innkeeper laughed a loud “Wahaha,” as he heard Suzuki Satoru’s prompt reply. After that he stated the price, which was fairly low compared to all the others they had encountered during the course of their journey.
Now, whether that price was fair remained to be seen. After all, the prices of things varied from city to city, and that would also be affected by the room they were given. Matters became even more complicated once one considered that this was a major city on the Marquis’ domain. However, top-end inns in national capitals typically had very few free rooms, and the expenses of staying in one for a night would be five to ten times as much as this place.
After asking why the price was so low, the answer he received was, “This is without the cost of food.”
It would seem this inn not only provided a large amount of food, but they were also very confident in the quality of their cuisine. Suzuki Satoru suddenly felt a pang of regret over his inability to eat. No, to be precise, he felt the same way every time he went to a new country, a new market, or a new plaza.
“Keno.”
“Mm.”
That one word was more than enough for Keno to understand Suzuki Satoru’s intentions. She produced a pouch and handed over the amount that the innkeeper had asked for. Needless to say, it was just a deposit.
“Come again!”
The innkeeper handed over a massive key and then briefly told Suzuki Satoru about the room’s location. After that, Suzuki Satoru and Keno climbed the stairs leading to their room on the second floor.
●
Each individual step was very high, and Keno had a harder time climbing them than Suzuki Satoru. However, both of them were undead, and climbing a flight of stairs was not enough to tire them out. Their room was very spacious, and the first thing they noticed was that the ceiling was very high. Then, they noticed the two enormous — a size beyond king-size — beds that were planted smack in the middle of the room, and then they noticed the exceptionally large cabinet and benches.
Keno exclaimed in delight and threw herself onto the bed, and then — the look on her face defied description. She had probably expected to be bounced back up after jumping onto the bed, but there were no springs inside, and what she felt instead was a stiff sensation.
That said, the clean white sheets alone more than merited a passing grade.
“So, when will we be going to the market, Satoru?”
It had become a tradition for the two of them to visit the markets whenever they came to a new city. Not only did it fulfill the requirement of buying items necessary for their travels, it also allowed them to investigate the market.
“Well, about that… it’s fun to go strolling down the city streets, and we need to find a market and get a feel for the situation while the grains haven’t rotted. Still, I was hoping to learn more about the surrounding countries. After all, your knowledge is out of date, Keno.”
Upon hearing that, Keno narrowed her eyes slightly.
Me and my big mouth, Suzuki Satoru lamented as he saw her reaction. However, apologizing now would probably only make it worse, so it was probably better to pretend he had not noticed.
“—In that case wouldn’t a bard be better than a trader?”
“That’s true. A bard would be more appropriate.”
It would seem she was not particularly mad. After hearing Keno’s prompt answer, a weight lifted off Suzuki Satoru’s heart.
A travelling merchant or a bard or some other related tradesman would probably know the surroundings best. A mercenary might pay attention to the situation in the nearby country, but a trader would have heard rumors of what happened in more distant lands, while bards might have come from even further.
Between the two of them, traders were better for accurate information, but in terms of general topics bards came out on top.
Since biased information could result in huge losses, traders typically spent a lot of effort to ensure their news was reliable. In turn, bards sought stories from further afield, but they were not too concerned with accuracy. Being interesting was good enough. However, there were cases where some stories which seemed fake — interesting tidbits from distant lands — had actually happened.
In short, since Suzuki Satoru and Keno wanted to know more things, it was obvious that they would pick a bard.
Even if the news they gained was fake or just rumors, it would simply be a matter of sighing in regret and going, “Ahhh, what a shame, it looks like I came all this way for nothing. Where shall I go next?” That was because they were undead — being possessed of infinite lifespans, they could afford to be that cavalier.
One could also say that they could savor the joy of the situation because they were undead.
—The joy of fruitless effort.
In addition, there was another reason for choosing a bard.
Bards considered storytelling to be a job. They would eagerly do so if paid.
On the other hand, traders were the sort of people whose information concerned their interests. Sometimes, it would be hard to get anything out of them, and they might not share what they knew honestly with Suzuki Satoru and Keno, being that they were strangers. If they tried for an introduction through a trader’s guild, one problem was that there were as many guilds as there were trade goods, and another was that members of the guild were typically curt to outsiders, citing reasons such as secrecy agreements and guild rules and the like. It typically ended up being very troublesome.
While bards had their guilds too, their management was not nearly as strict as those of traders’ guilds. Of course, some of them had strict rules, but experienced wanderers from faraway lands — in other words, higher-level bards — typically had an easier time in the guilds. However, Suzuki Satoru and Keno were not concerned with such details.
“We’ll hire a bard, then. Besides, we got a whole bunch of treasure from that previous lot, enough for several lifetimes of spending, so we’ll just be more generous with the payouts.”
Suzuki Satoru smirked to himself and it seemed Keno had not seen it.
However, she wrinkled her brow and smiled bitterly for some other reason.
Suzuki Satoru sensed that there was some other meaning behind her expression, and decided to let her give him a score for that undead joke just now.
“About thirty-odd points?”
“Really… Are you sure you aren’t low-balling it?”
“I thought it was appropriate. It wasn’t particularly funny or memorable.”
“Ehhh…”
While he had not expected it to be a gut-buster of a joke, it was still disappointing to get such a low score. If this were a performance assessment or some kind of department goal, Suzuki Satoru would have probably started bargaining with his boss.
“Alright, let’s go change our mood and find a bard. We’ll go ask the innkeeper about it first.”
●
After paying the introduction fee to the innkeeper, the man brought over the bard that he had recommended in short order. Said bard was dressed in clothing that was just as fancy as this inn, and he was a member of the Four-Eyes humanoid race that hailed from a land somewhat distant from this one. A brief conversation with him revealed that he was quite a well-travelled bard — in other words, a fairly high-level one. That said, his level was nowhere near Suzuki Satoru’s.
Of course, he had only encountered one being of comparable power to himself during his travels.
That would be the entity who resided upon the peak that men called the highest on the continent, a mighty foe who commanded the great power known as Wild Magic — the Brightness Dragon Lord, whose confrontation with Suzuki Satoru had ended in a draw.
Suzuki Satoru and Keno listened to the bard’s tales.
While they had no idea why it was so, foreign spoken languages in this world were automatically translated into a recognizable form. Specific nouns retained their original pronunciation, but other meaningful vocabulary was translated. The question of who had done this and how they had done it was a riddle that remained unsolved. The logic behind the translation of song lyrics was murkier; an unskilled singer’s words would sound like meaningless, broken nonsense. The performer’s skill was not the only criteria either; the audience also needed a certain degree of culture and understanding. According to Keno, being able to accurately understand a song was a mark of social status in the upper crust, and there were actually specialized classes for such things.
In any case, a philistine like Suzuki Satoru who not only had no taste but was uncultured to boot would only be able to think “What the hell is this guy singing?” no matter how skilled the singer was. Of course, he would be able to understand the words if they were not automatically translated; which is to say, if someone sang them in Japanese. However, in all his years of running around outdoors, he had never heard anyone speaking Japanese.
However, concluding that nobody here had ever used the languages of Suzuki Satoru’s world would be jumping to conclusions.
Fragments of them had been passed down through history, and Suzuki Satoru had also personally seen items that proved they existed.
Being that Suzuki Satoru’s mind was focused on such matters, the bard’s song went in one ear and out the other, but it was a different matter for Keno, who had received a royal education. She was lost in the beautiful music, and so Suzuki Satoru also pretended that he was listening to the song.
While he had no idea what the bard was singing, he clapped along with Keno at the end of each song. Though he found it incredibly boring, it was basic etiquette for a salaryman to keep it from showing on his face.
After several songs, it was finally time for the conversation segment that Suzuki Satoru had been looking forward to for so long.
Suzuki Satoru wasted no time and began asking him about rumors from the surrounding countries and what he had seen on the way here.
After about three hours, Suzuki Satoru felt that he had learned enough from the bard, and so he briefly left his place. When he returned, he placed a leather pouch on the table.
“Good heavens! Is all this money for me?”
The bard made no attempt to hide his surprise as he took the gold coins out of the pouch.
“Did you get the amount wrong?” In response to the bard’s question, Suzuki Satoru’s attitude shifted to one of forthright generosity.
“Personally, I think it’s not enough for that wonderful voice of yours…”
Keno nodded and made noises of approval. If Suzuki Satoru had only paid him
a paltry sum, she would probably have taken out her own purse to reward him — Suzuki Satoru had long since discerned her desire to reward him.
The contents of Suzuki Satoru’s own wallet went without saying, but Keno was also loaded. They had split the funds from the various members of “Corpus of the Abyss,” evenly between them. Keno had originally refused, but since they were travelling together, it meant that they were equal partners.
Still, Suzuki Satoru was in charge of the stolen cash for the most part, while he had given the gemstones and the like to Keno. There was a certain reason for this arrangement, and Keno did not seem unhappy with it.
“You, you’re too kind, I didn’t think my performance would be that well received. Thank you!”
The bard was grinning so widely that he could not shut his mouth.
While the amount he had paid the bard just now was more than the usual rate given the circumstances, it probably would not arouse suspicion if he said it was because he appreciated the skills of this bard.
In exchange for Suzuki Satoru’s appreciation, the other party had developed great goodwill for him. This was an example of how an appropriate gift of money could endear one to others, a lesson that they had learned during their journey.
Naturally, ten gold coins was pocket change to Suzuki Satoru. If he were of a mind to do so, even paying several hundred times that amount would not even begin to raise a wrinkle on his brow. However, that was not how things were done. Overpaying, especially far above market price, tended to draw the attention of wicked and calculative people and all the trouble they brought in their wake.
“She thought highly of your singing, while I was impressed by your knowledge. We will be staying here for the next few days. During this time, I hope you will continue gathering information; if it pleases me, I will continue paying you.” The bard’s eyes lit up as he heard this.
Suzuki Satoru felt that it would be better to save the energy of hunting down various people to learn about the situation and instead hand that task to the bard. In the case of merchants, bards would be less likely to arouse their suspicion than they would, and the bard would also be a better judge of whether or not their information was reliable.
In other words, Suzuki Satoru had paid that large sum just now in order to get the bard on his side and ensure that he threw himself wholeheartedly into his task of gathering information.
“I understand. Then I shall take my leave for today.”
“Very well. Ah, yes, given that your size is similar to ours, may I ask where you are lodging?”
“I see! Well, it’s true that most of the guests this city entertains tend to be on the large side. I reside in an inn operated by the guild.”
“Then it seems we won’t be able to go there. I understand. In that case, can we invite you here again in three days’ time?”
“Certainly! Leave it to me!”
The bard left the inn in a cheerful mood. People with deep pockets lightened his footsteps considerably.
After closing the room door, Keno looked excitedly at Suzuki Satoru.
“Look how confident he was! He was really good!”
“Yes, he was.”
It was most likely correct since Keno had said so.
…I’m not sure if it’s because I became undead, but I don’t feel moved by works of art.
The similarly undead Keno had been swayed by the song however, so that was probably not the reason. Still, Suzuki Satoru could not help thinking along those lines. Keno continued talking without having noticed what Suzuki Satoru was thinking. Perhaps the normal Keno might have sensed what was on her companion’s mind, but now she was too excited to care about such things.
“While I look forward to three days later — I don’t think he’ll reach that standard just now if he writes a new song.”
“Hmm, I guess.”
He might have been voicing agreement, but Suzuki Satoru did not understand those songs at all. Keno narrowed her eyes and looked at him.
“Liar.”
“Hrg!”
“Forget it, I’ll let you off this time. So, will we be strolling through streets afterwards?”
“That was the original plan, but—” Suzuki Satoru looked out the window, which was glazed with thick glass that did not let much light through. “The sun’s already gone down. We spent quite a while listening to him.”
“I’m sorry. It’s all because I—”
“Nonono! Don’t get me wrong, Keno, I’m not complaining about you. Being able to lose yourself in such wonderful music is a pleasure one rarely gets to enjoy. All I was saying was that it would be better if we could keep better track of time. And besides, even if it’s late, it just means you can’t go out.” Keno puffed up her cheeks and pouted.
“Isn’t that because I’m not grown up?! …I’ve got it, what about lying that I’m from a race that’s already of age?”
It was not impossible in theory. After all, much like the large races who frequented this inn, there were also small races. While it was impossible to tell that Keno was a child based on her height, it would be impossible to successfully bluff with her delicate, petite features. Surely her plan would cause a lot of trouble. The gate guards probably would not pursue the matter due to feeling guilty about confusing the Oldbones with the undead, but if they did not show them the appropriate appreciation to them, they would probably get suspicious again.
Also, one could tell if someone was of age by looking at their faces, even if they were small. However, it was usually only those races who were similar to each other that could tell the difference by their looks. For instance, a demihuman’s smile might be taken as intimidation by a humanoid.
In any case, if they insisted that Keno was an adult, the demi-humans might not be able to tell, but most of the humanoids probably would not buy it.
“There’s a lot of humanoids in this city, so it won’t work.”
“Then what about wearing a mask?”
“How suspicious do you want to make them, anyway?”
“That’s true…”
Wearing a mask out on the street would invite suspicious looks from passersby, unless they were conducting some kind of religious festival. In fact, Suzuki Satoru’s visage had already drawn many eyes, and if not for that one time where he had tried and failed to use illusions to conceal his features, he would not have wanted to go around exposing his face either.
“We can try it the next time we go to a place with few or no humanoids. I guess it counts as an experiment in seeing if people buy that excuse.” Keno looked like she had just blossomed.
“But not this time.”
Keno’s face tensed up again.
“Uuu… ah, Satoru…”
“I’m not falling for that. Besides, how would people look at me if I brought a kid around with me on the main road at night?
The fact was, Suzuki Satoru’s words would not be completely accurate if he were walking around in the pauper’s district, where stray children could be seen everywhere. Going around there in beat-up clothes would earn a glance at most.
But given that Keno was dressed in clean clothes, it would draw a lot of attention. Even if the security on the main streets was good, it would be a different matter entirely at night.
In addition, it would also be very problematic if Keno was in rags. If some child in tatters was walking around with a normally dressed adult, the latter would probably be taken for some degenerate pervert who had bought himself a child prostitute.
Naturally, Suzuki Satoru did not want to be thought of as such a person. Definitely not!
But in that case, how could he let Keno walk around naturally on the night streets?
The answer was that Suzuki Satoru and Keno would both have to dress shabbily.
That way, the people in the paupers’ district probably would not mind them.
However, they had arranged to meet someone tonight, so that route was out too. Therefore, he could not go out with Keno tonight.
Still, given the circumstances, all Suzuki Satoru and Keno needed to do was to move separately.
As long as she dressed up in rags, Keno could walk down the streets at night without drawing attention. And while Keno was small of frame, she was still a Vampire. Her physical attributes far exceeded those of an average adult. Combined with the improvement in her magical abilities over the past five years, she ought to be able to handle anything that came up. On top of that, she had the magic items Suzuki Satoru had lent her, so she would still be able to flee even if Keno came up against someone stronger than her.
However, neither of them wanted to go out and be a magnet for trouble.
The undead were the enemies of the living; if a problem came up, nobody would listen to them.
“But…”
“I understand how you feel and I know you must be unhappy about this. But I must still insist that you stay here tonight until the sun comes up again.”
Suzuki Satoru knew what Keno was thinking. Boring nights were hard to pass for the undead, who did not need to sleep or rest. In addition, the city at night looked quite interesting; one could see many scenes that were dramatically different from the daytime. While it was sometimes more dangerous, that just made it more exciting — especially when said dangers were utterly inconsequential to the two of them, and experiencing those thrills was still very fun.
“Keno, haven’t I been telling you this all this time? Whenever we first come to a town, we have to stay put at night before we figure out the situation.”
Besides, Keno might have enough fighting power to defend herself, but an encounter with a hero-level enemy was still very dangerous.
All this time, he had always made her stay put until he was sure that there was nothing in the city that she could not handle.
“Then you should stay and talk to me, Satoru.”
In the past five years, they had passed the nights when the sun was absent from the sky by talking.
Not needing to rest meant that they had more time together — in terms of human relationships, it was as though they had travelled with each other for tenodd years.
That was also why he had adopted such a plan.
Perhaps on normal days he might have given in and acceded to her, but today, Suzuki Satoru stood firm and shook his head.
“That’s a good idea too, but I’ll be doing what I always do, gathering information from the streets at night.”
Keno looked at him with a baffled expression on her face.
“Huh? Don’t you usually learn about the situation in the day?”
“Yes, normally I would, but I’m very bored today.”
“You jerk!”
“That’s why I need you to stay at home and mind the house, Little Miss Keno. Do you understand?”
“…Fine, I get it. I’ll go read some of the research notes we swiped. If I have to do any experiments, you have to help me, okay?”
“But of course.”
The research notes they had recovered from the members of “Corpus of the Abyss” were all along the lines of enhancing their skills to dominate more powerful undead, learning how to cast spells of higher tiers, enhancing the attributes of the undead and so on. Therefore, Keno had thrown herself into the role of backing up Suzuki Satoru, in the hope that completing one of those topics might end up strengthening Suzuki Satoru.
Sadly, none of their attempts had succeeded.
However, that was in Suzuki Satoru’s case.
Keno herself had benefited from them. It seemed like she had gotten a little stronger. In fact, she — who originally lacked the ability to dominate the undead — now possessed such an ability. From the perspective of Yggdrasil’s racial and job class systems, that should have been impossible.
In that case, why had it not worked on Suzuki Satoru?
There were two possibilities.
One was that Suzuki Satoru could no longer learn new abilities — in other words, he was complete.
The other was that more in-depth research was required to strengthen someone at Suzuki Satoru’s level.
In any case, this research could not be done by Suzuki Satoru himself, and so Keno found enjoyment in diving headlong into that work.
Suzuki Satoru left Keno with a “Do your best” — it seemed to make her very unhappy — and left their room.
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