At last, the Kingdom of Rhine appeared to be a rather peaceful nation, especially for one without a hero.
Since they didn’t expect much from the ‘useless hero’, perhaps they didn’t really care whether one existed or not?
Or maybe they didn’t even know that the hero, Friet, had vanished without a trace.
It’s possible that the higher-ups, worried about the public’s anxiety and confusion, spread false information claiming that the hero was not missing, but merely on a break.
“Hey! Old man Hans! Did you catch any fish today?”
“Of course! I caught a real whopper!”
…Well, either way, it looked peaceful enough to be somewhat pleasant. I felt a bit more at ease myself.
“Hilde…? Are you okay…? ”
Maybe my blank stare at the river bank looked a little concerning, because Friede gently took my hand and asked if I was alright.
She thought I was the real Brunhilde and probably assumed I was lost in fond memories.
The most glorious days of Brunhilde’s life. Memories from my time as a knight in the kingdom, before being chosen for the hero party, when I was unmatched among my peers.
“I’m fine. Just a bit tired.”
I turned my head to glance at Friede through the veil and gave a gentle smile, as if to say not to worry.
The expression on her face that seemed to understand my feelings was both amusing and distressing since it was merely a mistaken illusion.
She couldn’t understand my feelings. No, not just Friede, but really nobody in this world could, no matter who it was.
Because I wasn’t Brunhilde.
I was merely someone who had suddenly inherited all of Brunhilde’s abilities and past burdens, impersonating her.
A secret that I could never reveal to anyone, especially not to Friede herself.
Due to this secret, every time I saw Friede, who was endlessly kind to me believing I was truly Brunhilde, I felt a twinge of distress.
Thanks to my determination to survive, the nearly worn-out triangle of my conscience was now poking at me again.
Lately, there had been so many precarious situations that I could momentarily forget my guilt… but the distress didn’t completely vanish.
Giving in to Friede’s request and allowing her to touch me was also influenced by this.
The psychological debt of deceiving her for my own survival made it hard to refuse when she said she wanted me.
After all, it was a situation where I couldn’t refuse due to all the lies I had told up to that point… yet, if I hadn’t felt guilty, I would have just settled with a kiss instead of letting her touch me.
Such things should be saved for after we’ve secured a more stable situation and officially tied the knot, or some excuse like that.
“If you’re tired, um… please lie down here! I’ll keep watch while you sleep!”
Friede, mistaking my vague excuse for sincerity, pointed to her own thighs with a finger.
“…Okay. Thanks.”
I thought that was really cute, yet I let out a deep sigh inside as my distress heightened.
Of course, despite feeling distressed, I couldn’t refuse. I gently bent my waist, lying down and resting my head on her soft thighs.
And just like that, I felt a bit of my anxiety fade away.
…Wait, something feels off.
My comfort didn’t come from the sweet, baby powder-like scent wafting into my nose or the touch of her soft, doughy thighs.
It was simply the act of willingly accepting Friede’s request that felt like… what should I say?
A feeling that I was somehow repaying my psychological debt made me feel a little better.
Really.
Could it be that I derived happiness from the thighs of a girl who looked four years younger than me? No way!
Absolutely not. Definitely not. Not true.
I shook my head absentmindedly, like an accused person desperately pleading their innocence before a judge’s gavel.
Soft.
Squishy.
…Well, it was indeed plush.
The judge in my heart slammed down the gavel and declared me guilty. The lawyer in my heart turned away, throwing in the towel.
A soft and squishy tragedy.
◆◆
Three days passed.
Perhaps it was because we secretly crossed the border without a single casualty.
Even though it would have been strange for bounty hunters to attack after such time had passed, since crossing the threshold bridge, we hadn’t even needed to draw our swords.
Thanks to that, we could proceed towards our destination without any delays.
Seeing two young ladies on a battered boat would definitely raise suspicion, so we had to quietly disembark during the day and hide until sunset.
Anyway, after three nights of continuous travel…
“Hmm… I think we’re around here. Let’s head to the riverside for a second. I need to check something.”
We finally reached the location presumed to be where the Hidden Piece lay asleep. Or at least, that’s what we thought.
Why am I questioning that?
Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? There aren’t any quest markers floating in the air like in a game, and I didn’t come here following any pictures or illustrations.
Think about it. How could one pinpoint an area accurately with just a few lines of environmental description?
The only description I remembered was “a few days away from the threshold bridge. Where the Rhine River’s tributaries split into three. Near a stone resembling a wolf’s head.”
Not to mention, there were other places where the tributaries split into three, making the only solid clue the wolf-headed stone.
So, for that reason, we tied the boat to the riverside and wandered around looking for the wolf-headed stone.
About thirty minutes passed.
“Oh, there! Is that it? Look, Hilde! That rock!”
Friede exclaimed, pointing at one side of the riverbank.
“Really? Let me see…”
I turned my gaze toward where Friede was pointing.
Amidst the pale fluttering mist illuminated by the moonlight, a rock with a shape resembling a ‘ㄷ’ stood out faintly.
Uh, um… that could be it? Right?
The snout looks a bit elongated for a wolf… hmm, since the original novel’s incarnation came here a while later…
Maybe the edge of the stone crumbled or it got worn down by the waves. Something like that.
“What do you think? Is that the rock?”
“Yeah. It seems like it. Good job.”
I praised Friede, ruffling her hair.
She was looking up at me with sparkling eyes, as if she was just waiting for that praise.
Maybe it was because I hadn’t been able to properly ruffle her hair in a few days, but my hearts’ burden felt a little alleviated again.
Specifically, as much as the weight of the oil from my hands.
…Sniff sniff.
“Oh, uh—wait…! Why are you smelling that…?!”
Accidentally spreading my palm to sniff, Friede was startled and grasped my arm tightly as if to drag me away.
Her face went bright red like an apple.
“I’m sorry, I just did it without thinking.”
I awkwardly smiled. I too was surprised by my own actions.
“That’s something you shouldn’t do…! Seriously!”
“Yeah, sorry, sorry… but it didn’t smell bad. It was a little like, um, flour from a mill? Something like that.”
“Eww….”
I chuckled lightly, trying to reassure the flustered Friede who was still holding onto my arm.
I wasn’t lying, though.
Honestly, I expected it to smell like wet dog or some foul seaweed scent, but surprisingly, it had a scent closer to flour.
Thinking about it, it’s quite strange. How could a person’s hair, washed only with water for days, smell of flour instead of something foul?
Other adventurers I’d partied with in the past reeked of fish or moldy, rag-like smells.
Even Amy started to smell a bit musty after rolling around in the dungeon for a few days before she learned washing magic.
Yet strangely enough, I had never caught a whiff of any foul odor from Friede.
Was she some sort of human perfume? She could go days without washing and still smell just as pleasant as usual.
In fact, it wasn’t just Friede; I had never heard anyone say I smelled bad either.
Not to mention, I often heard I smelled like lemon instead… oh, maybe that meant they were indirectly saying I smelled like sweat?
That could be the case. It’s indeed odd to say someone smells like lemons when they’ve not bathed.
I surely don’t go around dousing myself with lemon-scented perfume or eat nothing but lemons three meals a day.
Even death row inmates wouldn’t eat that for food. A diet of lemons for breakfast, lunch, and dinner would be torture.
Just living like that for a month or two would probably lead to a confession of all the sins committed in the past, or they might just bash their head against the prison wall and end it all.
Anyway, it was such an inexplicable thing that my thoughts strayed. The idea of Friede smelling like flour was utterly baffling.
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