[The Spacetime That May Exist] Tracking

In Wolf's tavern.

Gazella tossed four silver coins onto the bar. The coins rolled half a circle on the wood, came together, and stopped.

Wolf looked up from the ledger, glanced at the four silver coins, then at Gazella's listless face. He picked up a rag, wiped his hands, and turned to take an overturned wooden barrel cup from the shelf.

"Gazella, you actually came to pay off your drink debt."

He placed the glass on the bar in front of Gazella.

"That's incredible."

Gazella didn't take the cup. He rested his arm on the edge of the bar, leaned forward slightly, and stared at the four silver coins he had brought.

"I want to settle my score with you before I die."

Wolf paused in wiping the cup. He turned his head and looked at Gazella.

Don't say such unlucky things.

He put the cleaned cup back on the shelf, picked up another, and continued cleaning. His movements were unhurried, and the cup made a regular, slight rubbing sound under the cloth.

Gazella didn't say anything more. He stood at the bar for a few more seconds, then straightened up, turned, and walked towards the door. His boots creaked softly on the wooden floor.

The door hinges turned, bringing in a whiff of the bustling street outside before closing behind him.

The tavern fell silent again.

Wolf put down his cup and rag, walked to the bar, and picked up the four silver coins. He held them between his fingers, looked at them one by one, and then clenched them in his palm.

The metal edge pressed against the skin, providing a distinct tactile experience.

He stood there for a moment before turning around and tossing the silver coin into the bottom drawer of the cash register. The coin landed with a few muffled thuds.

On the other side.

Frieren, along with Fern and Redhead, returned to the street corner they had visited before.

Gazella was, of course, no longer there.

Fern glanced at the empty stall, then turned his pale purple eyes to Frieren.

"... They're gone."

"He got away," Frieren said, "But it's alright."

Fern looked at her.

Frieren's lips curved upwards, her smile carrying a hint of certainty.

"Actually, I cast Tracking Magic on his silver coin."

Fern blinked.

"Why? Lady Frieren... didn't she realize she was being scammed? She was clearly beaming with pride and showing off the pot after buying it."

Frieren's smug expression froze for a moment. She turned her face away, her silver ponytail swaying with the movement.

"Fern," she turned back, chin slightly raised, adopting an expression that said, "I've seen it all along," "Actually, I've seen it all along. That guy was suspicious from the very beginning."

Fern didn't speak, but simply watched her quietly. Her pale purple eyes reflected her master's face, which was trying to remain calm.

A few seconds later, Frieren's shoulders slumped slightly. She pouted.

"Okay," she admitted softly, "That guy is a very strong warrior. So I kept an eye on him."

Fern nodded.

"That doesn't seem to prove anything," she said. "Many merchants were warriors or adventurers before. It's not a particularly special reason."

Frieren crossed her arms.

"A dwarf had contact with that merchant before. Although he looked extremely destitute, and his clothes were dirty and tattered... that man was Ransen."

Fern tilted his head.

"Ransen?"

"A hero of the Northern Frontier," Frieren said, "More than eighty years ago, he single-handedly reclaimed nearly a third of the empire's territory from the Demons army. He is an absolute hero."

"I've seen him before. A while back, when he was still a general. But when I bumped into him while shopping recently, I asked him about it. He now calls himself 'Varos,' which is obviously a pseudonym. And he blends in with the homeless, so almost nobody recognizes him."

Fern was silent for a moment. She frowned slightly, as if she was thinking about something.

"How did you end up as a homeless person?"

"Well, because everyone has forgotten about him," she said softly. "That happens often. Glory and names fade with time."

"So, a former hero, hiding his identity, disguised himself as a vagrant. A very strong warrior, posing as a street vendor. They came together, and of all times, they appeared in the Imperial Capital."

She looked at Fern.

There must be a reason for that.

Fern remained silent for a moment.

"Well, the silver coins will probably be spent or saved up soon, won't they?"

Frieren raised a finger and shook it. A glint of "You really don't understand" flashed in her emerald eyes.

"Hmph... Fern, silver coins are a lot of money. Four of them in total."

She straightened her chest.

"He won't spend it all so easily. He'll definitely keep it on his person, close to his body. What if... he really is a member of the 'Shadow Warriors,' just like I think? Then we might be able to find his accomplices or their hideout by following the silver coins."

Fern looked at her. After a few seconds, she sighed softly, a sigh that carried a hint of "I just can't do anything with you."

"Hmm," she finally said, "Although all the clues so far are merely your speculations, Lady Frieren, each link in the chain lacks concrete evidence. However, your intuition... has always been accurate in combat and in judging the enemy."

Frieren's eyes lit up, then she strode off.

"Hmm. Except when choosing magical tools."

Frieren didn't hear it.

Beside him, the red-haired man lowered his voice and said to Fern.

"Hey, stop talking... lest she hears you and starts throwing a tantrum again."

"Although I've given many reasons for this tracking operation," Frieren suddenly spoke, her voice lower and slower than before, "What I really want to say is..."

She stopped, took a deep breath, and then slowly exhaled. Her shoulders rose and fell with her breath.

Then, she raised her face. Her emerald green eyes quickly filled with tears, and the corners of her eyes began to redden at a visible speed. The tip of her nose also turned slightly red. She pouted, her whole face scrunched up, as if she was about to burst into tears at any moment.

"Give me back my secret stash of money..."

The last few words were uttered with a clear sob, trembling, filled with deep grievance and heartache.

Fern watched her quietly. Then he reached out and gently patted Frieren's back.

Lady Frieren is sad again...