Your Faithful Servant Has Returned

Traveler's Home.

In the warm-lit room by the window, firewood crackled in the hearth, driving the chill from the little house.

A slightly worn linen cloth covered the plain wooden table, yet it bore a lavish dinner—a large bowl of steaming meat stew, slices of golden, soft-baked bread, a small dish of precious butter, and even several fragrant pan-fried river fish.

Arno sat at the head of the table, stirring the stew with a wooden spoon, his gaze resting on his wife and children—

Laura was carefully picking out fish bones, placing the tender flesh onto her youngest daughter Emily's plate.

Emily happily swung her little feet, clumsily scooping up fish with her spoon and smearing grease all over her little face. Little Arno, meanwhile, sat ramrod straight, trying hard to imitate his father's table manners, though his eyes kept drifting toward the tempting bread and butter.

As he watched his wife's gentle movements and his children's contented faces, a long-lost warmth filled Arno's chest. The corners of his mouth rose of their own accord, revealing his first heartfelt smile since returning home.

"Dad."

Little Arno suddenly looked up, his eyes shining.

"Those scary gray-scaled Lizardfolk in the swamp—you drove them all away like a dragon-slaying hero from the stories, with your sword going 'swish, swish, swish,' right?"

"Those adventurers were lying, weren't they?"

At the mention of the swamp, Laura froze. She shot a quick glance at her husband, then gave Little Arno a warning look and gently shook her head.

Her eyes silently said: Don't ask. Don't bring those things up.

Little Arno caught his mother's meaning. Though puzzled, he obediently closed his mouth and lowered his head, poking at the stew in his bowl.

Laura drew a deep breath. She turned toward Arno with a gentle but somewhat forced smile.

"Darling, don't worry about money."

"These past few days, I found work at the textile workshop in town. The pay isn't much, but I've already paid off the overdue inn rent."

She gently took Arno's hand where it rested on the table.

"We'll work hard together, and life will slowly get better. You don't need to... to go back to that place anymore."

The warmth of her hand soothed Arno's restless memories. He gently clasped Laura's hand in return, feeling the slight chill of her fingertips and the weight of her concern.

He sighed inwardly.

Laura didn't want him going back to that terrifying swamp. How could he fail to understand her feelings?

But, Laura... I have reasons I must go back...

Unconsciously, he rubbed the base of his right ring finger with his thumb. The familiar stiff sensation came from it.

That demonic curse had not gone away. It was merely lying dormant for now, and one day, sooner or later, it would erupt again.

Whether for Laura and the children or for himself, he had no choice but to return.

But he could not tell her the truth. He could not make Laura bear this fear again.

"Don't worry, darling."

Arno raised his head, trying to make his smile seem easy and assured as he avoided her worried gaze.

"This time is different. In the swamp... I encountered Demihumans from the Rotten Moss Tribe."

"You know, those relatively... um... less dangerous green-scaled Lizardfolk. I helped them with a small matter and established contact with them."

He deliberately made it sound as though he had simply concluded an ordinary business negotiation.

"Now that I have a stable trading channel, the risk is much lower. This trip is just to strengthen that connection. Afterward... afterward, I won't need to take risks like I did the first time."

"..."

Laura fell silent, looking into her husband's eyes.

The stubborn aristocratic pride that had once filled those light-brown eyes had indeed faded, replaced by a calm she had never seen before—even... relief.

That eased her heart a little.

But why? Why was he still so determined to return to that peril-ridden swamp?

Was it for money? Or... something else? She could not fathom it.

Yet seeing how hard he was trying to reassure her, seeing how his face, though weary, seemed more alive than before he had left home, Laura ultimately only gave a soft "Mm," lowered her head, and silently took a sip of soup.

She knew she could not persuade this stubborn man. All she could do was pray in her heart, again and again, to Ignis the Sun, to Kardos of protection and courage, and even to every god she could think of.

"Gods, please watch over my Arno. Bless him and bring him safely home..."

Morning mist shrouded the town, and the air was crisp and cold.

A somewhat battered two-wheeled carriage stood on the dirt road, the pack beast harnessed to it snorting impatiently.

Arno gave Laura one last tight embrace as her eyes reddened, then crouched down to ruffle his son's soft hair and kiss his daughter's little milk-scented cheek.

The children did not yet understand the weight of parting. They only knew that their father was leaving on another long journey, and they were reluctant to see him go.

"Dad, come back soon!" Emily demanded in her childish voice.

"Be careful!" Little Arno urged solemnly, like a little adult.

"I will."

Yano made the promise solemnly. Rising to his feet, he swept his gaze over his wife's face, where words lingered unspoken, before finally giving a firm nod.

He took a deep breath, climbed into the driver's seat, and picked up the reins.

For Laura's smile, for the children's future, for this family...

Demon, I'm back.

He clenched his teeth in secret, his sharp gaze fixed on the road leading to the Reed River.

"Hyah!"

The carriage creaked as it slowly rolled away from the town, leaving behind the worried eyes of his wife and children, along with the warm smoke rising from their hearth.

The wheels rumbled over the bumpy dirt road, and the outline of Iron Boot Town gradually faded behind him.

Yano turned and glanced at the supplies piled in the carriage bed.

Most of the space was occupied by sturdy burlap sacks, filled with precious salt and sun-dried grain for trade with the lizardfolk of the Rotten Moss Tribe.

Beside his driver's seat, however, a small box made from fine pine and polished smooth had been firmly secured in place, utterly out of keeping with the rough cargo around it.

Inside the box were the "offerings" he had carefully prepared.

There was a copy of Basic Grammar and Vocabulary in the Common Tongue, as well as a copy of Common Lizardfolk Phrases and Sentences Handbook, which he had gone to no small effort to acquire from the Adventurers Guild in Iron Boot Town.

There was a tightly sealed lead-tin vial containing the costly magical ink known as "Star Dust Blue." It was said to be made from the ink of some deep-sea squid and was indispensable for mages drawing scrolls and long-distance communication magic circles. The bottle even bore the Alchemists Guild's certification label.

There was an exquisite food box wrapped in insulating material—inside were small cakes made by Iron Boot Town's only high-end bakery.

And there were several pieces of dark chocolate, carefully wrapped in tinfoil and brought by a merchant caravan from the distant south, along with a small bag of brightly colored hard candies.

As he looked at these strange "offerings," Yano could not help but let his imagination run wild. That deep, hoarse demon's voice surfaced in his mind once more.

Could demons in hell have a taste for sweets too?

Or perhaps... was this really part of some incomprehensible sacrificial ritual?

He shook his head, casting aside those unanswerable thoughts.

No matter what, a contract was a contract.

He tightened his grip on the reins, turned his eyes once more toward the rushing river ahead, and murmured softly, "I'm back."