Episode 644
“Burp.”
In the central market of Kalamath.
Beric patted his belly, swollen like a mountain, and grinned with satisfaction as he gnawed on his teeth. He had eaten so much meat inside the fortress that now, outside of mealtimes, he was banned from entering restaurants and storage rooms.
“Really stingy, aren’t they? To someone who just came back from a long trip.”
“Excuse me, sir?”
“What? I’m not done yet. Bring me more booze.”
The restaurant owner smiled awkwardly, clasping his hands together. Judging by his accent, he was from Bariel, but judging by how much Beric was eating, he was definitely no ordinary customer. Probably a mage or a magic swordsman, or something along those lines.
Though Beric was part of the force that had brought down Burgos, seeing the towering piles of plates in front of him made him feel grateful. Fifteen large plates, no less. And he’d already polished off three jars of liquor.
“Sorry, we’re out of meat and booze.”
“What? Already? Are you trying to run a business or quit?”
“Yes. Next time, if you let us know in advance, we’ll stock up more meat. Thanks to you cleaning us out today, I’m heading home early to look after the kids.”
“That’s supposed to be a thank you, right?”
“Of course. It’s much easier on us than having to serve a bunch of customers. Let me help you with the bill.”
As he said, the restaurants across the street and on the other side were packed with soldiers out on break, bustling with noise.
But where Beric sat was completely empty. Soldiers who tried to come in recognized him and all turned away. They said, “If he’s here, there’s no food left.”
“Next time, be sure to call ahead! I’ll treat you until you burst! Thank you!”
“Yeah, yeah, go take care of the kids now. Burp.”
Ah, he needed more booze. Beric kept burping as he walked deeper into the market. Unlike Bariel or Clifford, Burgos’s liquor had a heavy aftertaste that was a real treat.
He dragged a chair out in front of a tavern and plopped down roughly.
“Hey, boss!”
“Yes, sir. There are plenty of seats inside, too.”
“I’ll sit outside. Nice weather, isn’t it? Bring me your most expensive drink.”
“Your… most expensive drink?”
The owner’s face lit up instantly as he dashed inside. During the civil war, just scraping by was a blessing, but since the Bariel troops had been stationed here, the market had come alive. They traded necessary goods at fair prices, and soldiers came down into Kalamath city to enjoy meat and liquor. The country was ruined, but they had found a way to survive.
“Please wait a moment!”
“Hurry up. The buzz fades and so does the taste.”
Up above, the possessed mother and daughter were throwing money and food around to win hearts and minds, while below, Bariel soldiers spent lavishly. Nearby small towns lined up just to get into Kalamath.
Where there are crowds, there’s money to be made. At least inside Kalamath, Bariel’s reputation was quite favorable.
“Burp. Ugh, keeps coming up.”
Beric sniffled and looked around.
A quiet back alley. In front of a tavern stood a small art gallery long since closed. The dusty glass was covered in grime, and piles of unsold paintings lay scattered inside. He was about to look away when—
“Huh?”
Something inside sparkled.
Beric blinked hard, feeling a bit woozy. Was the sunlight reflecting off the glass? But the window was too dirty for that.
Sparkle!
“What the hell?”
Curious, Beric pressed his face close to the window. Just then, the tavern owner came out with the drinks, looking flustered.
“Is something wrong, sir?”
“Something inside keeps sparkling. It’s annoying.”
“…Is that really something to be annoyed about? There are probably some crafts besides paintings. I’ve been running this place for ten years, but the gallery closed before that. Rumor has it they used to supply paintings to nobles and royalty. But after the royal family fell ten years ago, no one came looking anymore.”
“Old place. But the inside looks cleaner than I thought.”
“Really? Is that so?”
The owner shrugged and popped open a bottle.
Beric, however, kept staring intently inside, sniffing. No strange smells. Hmm… Why was he so drawn to this closed gallery?
“Oh.”
At that moment, the painting hanging straight ahead shifted. The warm, distant hallway scene suddenly showed a shadow of a person appearing and disappearing, as if someone inside was moving.
Beric’s eyes widened. Just as the clueless tavern owner came out with some complimentary food—
Crash! Bang!
Beric smashed every window of the gallery with his fist. When the door wouldn’t turn, he kicked it repeatedly until it split in two.
The owner gasped and backed away, then ran off to call the guards.
“Help! Someone’s smashing up the building! Please save me!”
“Shut up. I broke the glass, but did I break your head too?”
“Guards! Guards!”
“What a fuss.”
Beric ignored the shouting owner and stepped inside. Dust hung thick in the air, but faint footprints were visible—traces left in the dust.
He drew his magic sword and stood before the suspicious painting.
Sniff.
The dust smell was lighter here.
No doubt about it. Something was there.
‘…That Rutherford bastard crossed over through a painting once.’
Was this a magic stone painting? If so, should he tear it apart? Would that be safer? It just moved. What if they’re trying to cross over here?
But who this time? Toalun? If an unexpected enemy suddenly showed up, would Ian struggle again?
Swish.
Beric pointed the sword’s tip at the painting.
“Alright.”
He was about to slash it. If he hesitated even a second longer, he would have cut it without question. But then, a very familiar-looking woman passed by with a man, as if unaware she was being watched.
“Huh?”
Just now…
“Isn’t that… Rie? Clark’s girlfriend?”
It was Lady Rien Merellof. Beric had just seen her walking past, talking with the troupe leader.
Beric, gripping his sword, hesitated and only moved his eyes. At least one thing was certain: the lady was on Ian’s side. If she had betrayed them, it would mean trouble for all of Hiel.
But was it really betrayal?
“Ugh, my head’s pounding.”
Thunk.
Beric threw his sword behind him; the magic blade evaporated and disappeared. Maybe he was overthinking it, or maybe the booze was getting to him.
He slumped down, clutching his head, just as the tavern owner returned with the guards.
“That’s him! He ordered the most expensive drink, then suddenly smashed the gallery windows and door!”
“Hey, we’re the guards. What’s your ID?”
“I’m Beric.”
“…Put your hands above your head and come over slowly. Are you from Bariel? Affiliated with the royal palace?”
“Ugh! Can’t you tell by the way I talk? I’m a Bariel native!”
“Show your ID! If you refuse, we’ll detain you.”
ID? He didn’t even remember where he’d sold it. Beric rummaged through his pockets. Damn.
“No money.”
He muttered that it was silver coins, but they were copper. The owner’s face flushed red as he scolded the guards.
“No money, yet demanding the most expensive drink? Arrest him and tie him up! There’s no way he’s a Bariel soldier. Probably some vagrant who wandered in!”
“Sorry, sorry. I’ll go get it right now.”
“Where do you think you’re going, you punk? Trying to run?”
“No, really, I’m not lying.”
“Arrest him! Quickly!”
The guards raised their spears and advanced. Beric hesitated.
‘If I get caught, Ian will be notified. Damn it.’
No ID, no money, drinking without paying, and now smashing windows and doors—he was definitely in for a beating. Would he just give up and count to ten again? Better to just smash his forehead on a rock and lie flat.
Beric rolled his eyes, yanked a painting off the wall, and bolted.
“Catch him! Thief!”
“No, I really am Beric! Royal Guard!”
“Then stop running! Don’t just talk! Catch him!”
“Damn it.”
Clatter, clatter! Tap!
Beric darted through the chaotic market, knocking over fruit carts, breaking jars, and scattering piled-up goods.
“Oh no, the fruit’s all ruined!”
“Hey, you crazy bastard!”
“Sorry!”
“Get him!”
Beric sniffled and ran toward the royal palace. Soldiers eating meat and drinking along the roadside watched the spectacle with interest.
“Isn’t that Beric of the Royal Guard?”
“Yeah. Looks like he’s causing trouble again.”
“Living like that must be fun.”
The soldiers didn’t try to intervene; they just clinked their cups and shrugged.
“So, to repeat—”
Ian’s eyes narrowed. Not only that, Jin pretended not to hear and turned away, while Tweller chuckled in disbelief.
The expressions on the wizards’ faces weren’t much different from Ian’s. They stood in a line behind him, arms crossed, glaring daggers at Berrick.
“…So, you dined and dashed, damaged property, refused to cooperate with the investigation, caused a scene, and then ran off?”
“No, Ian, that’s not it—I didn’t even have a sip of alcohol at their place. And the property damage? That was unavoidable. As for refusing to cooperate… well, yeah, that happened.”
Berrick let out a sharp laugh, prompting the wizards to pinch their noses in disgust.
“Ugh, the smell of alcohol. Ian, this guy’s definitely wasted. He’s not in his right mind.”
“Not true! I’m perfectly fine. Do I look like someone who’d pass out after just three jugs of booze?”
“Drunk enough to see moving pictures, they say. Hey, how do you expect us to handle a magic stone-infused painting in some back alley? Have you no sense? Huh? What a genius.”
“Then come see for yourselves!”
With a confident snap, Berrick thrust the painting forward. The wizards craned their necks to examine it, but unfortunately, the magic stone painting wasn’t something they could immediately decipher.
“What do we do, Ian? Unless Captain Accorella is here, we can’t verify it right away.”
Unlike Accorella, who could detect magic stones by scent alone, ordinary wizards had to go through a tedious process in the lab to confirm it. That was why Emperor Bariel had used secret passages, and why Rutherford had been able to infiltrate them.
“We have enough on our plates without wasting time on this. Just tear it up and toss it. Berrick might be imagining things, but better safe than sorry.”
“Yes, and when Captain Accorella returns, we can ask her to take a look. What do you think?”
Ian turned the painting this way and that, searching for anything unusual. But as expected, it was hard to tell. Finally, he nodded, signaling his approval.
“Go ahead and tear it up for safekeeping.”
“Yes, understood. What about Berrick? Should we tear him up too?”
“Hmm. Not a bad idea.”
“Ian?!”
Berrick jumped up in alarm at Ian’s deadpan joke, instantly sobering up.
Just as the wizards chuckled and moved to take the painting, something happened.
“…!”
Out of nowhere, a face appeared in the previously blank background, peering in—not at them, but at the painting itself. Then—
“Ahhh!”
“…!”
A hand shot up swiftly. Tweller and Ian both jumped, blocking Jin’s path, while a wizard hurled the painting toward the wall.
Thud!
Something shattered. The painting slid down the wall, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. It was blood dripping from the nose of the stranger who had suddenly appeared.