With the request completed, Osian continued to focus on his sword training.
Now that he had grasped the Starlight Sword and Nebula Silk, he had made considerable progress in learning how to use them much more efficiently.
That alone would have been a satisfying achievement but surprisingly, the more he refined both techniques, the more he began to see glimmers of a new path.
‘But it's just a glimmer of a possibility. I can vaguely see that it could be something like this, but it's going to take a while to get it right.’
There's no need to feel impatient.
I've already gotten what I need.
Exiting the clearing that was now a fixed training ground, Osian found Ronan sitting at a bar table, reading a newspaper.
"Looks like the peace envoys are finally coming."
Ronan glanced at the front page of the newspaper he was reading.
The story had come up so often that even Osian, who had little interest in such current events or moods, had scabs on his ears.Ronan quietly folded the open newspaper and placed it on the bar table.
"There's been a lot of talk, so I can understand the fuss."
"The Kingdom of Carleon."
Osian had never heard of it before.
Too many years had passed between the world he knew from his gaming days and the one he knew now.
It was the natural course of history for kingdoms and empires to fall and new dynasties to rise.
Still, the location on the map was one he recognized.
It was known for its fertile lands, wide plains, pastures for raising cattle and sheep, and it was a common haunt of mercenaries and bandits.
I remembered the many subquests I'd done there, and I remembered doing a lot of reputation work there.
"But why is it so surprising that the Kingdom of Carleon would make peace with Tirna? It's not like they've always been on bad terms."
"It's not just the Kingdom of Carleon. The city of Tirna is not looked upon favorably by the neighboring kingdoms."
"It's the city of freedom."
Tirna was a city, but it was also a country.
A mega-city-state composed of fifty districts.
At the same time, people of all ranks could rise to high positions if they were capable.
From the perspective of a kingdom that still practiced casteism, Tirna was a city that denied itself at its core.
But that didn't make it any less untouchable.
Tirna was far too large to be called a city.
Tirna's infrastructure was one thing, but the sheer size of the city itself was another, with a military force that could reduce any kingdom to ashes.
One military source said that Tirna could have waged war on the entire continent with its power.
This was not the case, purely because the city of Tirna is not ruled by a single individual.
As is the nature of a city, Tirna has a myriad of leaders.
Starting with the five mayors, then ministers and high-ranking government officials, and finally the district governors, who are the chief administrators.
In addition, there are magic towers, large corporations, and even major military figures.
Tirna is a place of opportunity open to all.
All of them have their own authority and voice, and important matters are decided in a rigorous council.
Naturally, something as big as war would be overruled in its own internal council.
"With Tirna unmoved, the neighboring nations have a choice: join hands with them and embrace their culture, or turn against them and try to rid the continent of them."
"The Kingdom of Carleon was a classic example of the latter."
"Tirna had bad relations with many kingdoms, but Carleon was particularly bad. Their dynasty was, how shall I say it, full of vanity and pride."
Ronan shook his head in disgust.
"A place ruled by idiots with no talent, just good blood."
At the uncharacteristically sharp words, Osian looked at Ronan in mild surprise.
It was the first time he'd ever felt emotion from Ronan when he spoke of the Carleon Kingdom.
"Alas, of course, that does not mean that Tirna is right or just. It is nice to hear that it is a city of freedom, but there is darkness here too."
"I suppose."
Excessive meritocracy.
Those without abilities have nothing to say when they're removed from society, and a culture that takes it for granted.
Furthermore, Tirna is a city of gold, a place where money solves many problems.
If you have money, you can get away with anything, and if you don't have money, you will be punished.
It's hard to say whether Tirna or the kingdom is better off, as the two sides are often at odds with each other.
The conflict with the Kingdom of Carleon was not a battle of good versus evil, but of ideology versus ideology.
"But suddenly, the Kingdom of Carleon has sent a peace envoy. Did they suddenly have a change of heart?"
"That's what I'm wondering, too. It doesn't make sense that they'd smile and shake hands when they were biting each other just moments ago. Well, I suppose it's common in the international community......."
"In short, you're saying it sucks."
"Yeah, it's a bad feeling, and it's times like this that it's right for us to just sit back and let things play out."
"Stay out of it, is that what you're saying?"
"Exactly."
Osian's eyes scanned the words on Ronan's folded newspaper.
One sentence in particular stood out: the kingdom of Carleon was sending royalty as an envoy this time.
Princess Orlea.
Even if it is a young princess at the bottom of the line of succession, the name of royalty carries a lot of weight.
Because of this, it was rumored that Tirna considered this event to be of great importance, and a grand welcome ceremony was planned.
The gist of their judgment was that even if things were bad between them, they didn't need to be this bad.
"Don't worry too much about it. The city officials and the military will take care of this anyway, so we fixers don't have to worry too much."
"Yeah, I guess that's normal."
Osian replied, but he couldn't take his eyes off the newspaper.
He doesn't know why.
It's just that every time he looked at the article, he couldn't help but feel a strange, indescribable tingling sensation.
‘I really hope I don't have to worry about it.’
Osian thought to himself and tried to shake off the feeling.
*
Time passed, and the day of Princess Orlea's visit to Tirna drew near.
Osian came to Violet Fox as usual.
A fixer doesn't have to go in and out of the office, but there's nothing else to do.
There was at least a place to practice in the back of the Violet Fox Tavern, so Osian had fewer reasons not to come.
The bell tinkled softly as I opened the door.
Normally, Ronan would have opened the door and greeted him with a smile but not today.
There was a customer, a man in his fifties, dressed to the nines.
We have quite a few clients who come to Violet Fox on short notice.
Most of them are very wealthy people who can afford to pay the high fees on their own and so was this man, who was dressed to the nines.
Nevertheless, Osian sensed that the middle-aged man was different from the other clients.
Not because of his attire, but because of the expression on Ronan's face as he sat across from him.
‘Hmm.’
Ronan's face was unchanged.
He had an expression that seemed to be wearing a mask, with narrowed eyes and never losing his smile.
For some reason, Osian had the feeling that Ronan was in a very bad mood right now.
"I'm sure you've heard my offer......and I'll take this one."
Aware of Osian's arrival, the middle-aged man grabbed something off the table and stood up quickly.
He glanced at Osian, gave him a surprised look, and then brushed past him.
Osian glanced at the man's back as he left.
There was something unnatural about the way he left, as if he had said something he shouldn't have.
"Not an ordinary client, by the looks of it."
Osian asked, leaning back against the bar table.
"An acquaintance?"
"Technically, I knew him."
"Not a very good one, then."
It didn't surprise me that Ronan had acquaintances.
Ronan's own dislike for them was understandable. Everyone has connections they don't like.
‘I don't need to pry, it'll only hurt Ronan's feelings.’
Osian thought about what he would ask Ena to make for lunch if she were to come to work.
The Violet Fox Tavern had been getting quite a bit of business lately, thanks to Ena's cooking.
This has kept Ena busy, and if you want to eat her food, you have to wait for a time when she's not around.
"......The man who just walked out is Frenfitz. He used to serve me, or rather, my mother."
It was then that Ronan suddenly spoke up.
*
Ronan recalled his encounter with Frenfitz earlier.
He was in the Violet Fox, reading the morning paper as usual when the man suddenly opened the door and walked in.
"Is this where you work?"
"Yes.......You're an unwelcome visitor."
“That goes for me too.”
"Why did you come to see me? I thought we were supposed to never see each other again."
"I came to ask for a favor."
Frenfitz casually sat down across from Ronan.
"After what happened that day, how dare you sit before me?"
"Are you saying you won't accept a commission?"
"My office can take as many or as few requests as it wishes, and yours, though I haven't even heard it yet, already reeks of danger."
At that, Frenfitz didn't bother to hide.
Instead, silently, he pulled an object from his pocket and placed it on the table.
Ronan's eyebrows twitched at the sight of it.
"You want this back, don't you?"
The corners of Ronan's eyes twitched for a moment.
When Ronan had recovered himself, he stared at Frenfitz.
His eyes were narrower and longer than they had ever been before.
"Are you threatening me?"
"If that's what it sounded like, I can't help it."
"If you come to me with this, you must be desperate, and the way you're trying to cling to power is almost pathetic."
"Did you know about......?"
“I heard that those damn followers are lining up for Princess Orlea. Everyone probably knows. It was a rotten rope that they grabbed with such great effort.”
Frenfitz responded to Ronan's taunt with a sneer.
"Well, it ain't over till it's over. You take what you can get, and that's not what's important now, is it? You want this back, don't you?"
Frenfitz held out the object.
It was a pendant necklace that was old and tarnished with human hands.
It didn't look elegant at all, just like any other bauble on the market but to Ronan, it was something special.
"Still, you look like a fixer, so I'll leave the formal request here."
Frenfitz tossed the papers in Ronan's face.
Ronan didn't take it, but Frenfitz didn't care.
He knew Ronan wouldn't be able to refuse anyway.
Ronan took the papers with trembling hands.
Just as Frenfitz's mouth was about to curl into a sneer, the tavern door opened with a bell.
*
"The man who betrayed me for power has asked me for a favor."
Osian stared at Ronan wordlessly.
‘Why are you telling me that out of the blue?’
Osian was just quietly thinking about today's lunch menu when he heard the details of the request but that doesn’t mean he wasn't interested, so he decided to listen.
"The request is......to escort Princess Orlea."