The Traveler's Home.
In the room where warm light streamed through the windows, firewood crackled in the fireplace, dispelling the chill of the small house.
The simple wooden table was covered with a slightly worn linen tablecloth, yet it held a lavish dinner—a large bowl of steaming meat soup, slices of bread toasted golden and fluffy, a small plate of precious butter, and even several fragrantly fried river fish.
Yano sat at the head of the table, stirring the meat soup with a wooden spoon, his gaze lingering on his wife and children—
Lola was carefully picking out fish bones, dividing the tender fish meat onto their young daughter Emily's plate.
Emily happily swung her little feet, clumsily scooping the fish meat with her spoon, smearing grease all over her small face. Their son, Little Arno, sat bolt upright, earnestly imitating his father's dining manners, though his eyes couldn't help but keep glancing toward the tempting bread and butter.
Watching his wife's gentle movements and his children's content little faces, a long-lost warmth filled Yano's chest. Unconsciously, the corners of his mouth turned upward, revealing his first genuine smile since returning home.
"Dad."
Little Arno suddenly looked up, his eyes sparkling.
"Those adventurers were lying, right?"
Mentioning the swamp, Lola's movements paused. She quickly glanced up at her husband, then gave Little Arno a look meant to stop him, gently shaking her head.
Her eyes silently said: Don't ask, don't bring up those things.
Receiving his mother's look, Little Arno, though confused, obediently closed his mouth and lowered his head to slurp the soup from his bowl.
Lola took a deep breath. She turned to Yano, her face wearing a gentle yet somewhat forced smile.
"Darling, don't worry about money."
"I found work at the town's textile workshop these past few days. The pay isn't much, but it's already covered the overdue rent for the inn."
She gently held Yano's hand resting on the table.
"If we work hard together, things will slowly get better. You don't need to... go back to that place anymore."
Yano's uneasy memories were soothed by the warmth of her hand. He gently squeezed Lola's hand in return, feeling the slight coolness of her fingertips and the weighty concern they carried.
He sighed inwardly.
How could he not understand that Lola didn't want him to return to that terrifying swamp?
But Lola... I have reasons I must go back...
Subconsciously, he rubbed the base of his right ring finger with his thumb, feeling the familiar stiff sensation.
The demonic curse had not gone away; it was merely lying dormant for now. Sooner or later, it would erupt again.
Whether for Lola and the children, or for himself, he had to go back.
But he couldn't tell the truth; he couldn't let Lola bear this fear again.
"Don't worry, darling."
Yano looked up, trying hard to make his smile appear relaxed and confident, avoiding her worried gaze.
"This time it's different. I met... Demi-humans from the Rotten Moss Tribe in the swamp."
"You know, those relatively... well, less dangerous green-scaled Lizardfolk. I helped them with a small favor and established a connection with them."
He deliberately made his tone sound as if he had completed an ordinary business negotiation.
"Now we have a stable trade channel; the risk is much smaller. This trip is just to solidify that connection. In the future... I won't need to take risks like the first time anymore."
"......"
Lola fell silent, watching her husband's eyes.
The stubborn aristocratic pride that once filled those light brown eyes had indeed dissipated, replaced by a serenity she had never seen before, even... a sense of release.
This reassured her slightly.
But why, why was he still so determined to return to that perilous swamp?
Was it for money? Or... something else? She couldn't figure it out.
But seeing how hard he was trying to reassure her, seeing his face—tired yet more vibrant than before he left home—Lola ultimately just softly uttered "Mm," lowered her head, and silently took a sip of soup.
She knew she couldn't persuade this stubborn man. She could only pray, over and over in her heart, to the sun deity Ignis, to Cardos, the god of protection and courage, even to every deity she could think of.
"Gods, please watch over my Yano, keep him safe and bring him back..."
...
Morning mist enveloped the town; the air was crisp and cold.
A somewhat shabby two-wheeled carriage stood on the dirt road, the draft animal pulling it snorting impatiently.
Yano gave Lola, whose eyes were reddening, one last strong hug, then crouched down to ruffle his son's soft hair and kiss his daughter's milky-scented little cheek.
The children didn't fully grasp the weight of parting; they just felt sad that their father was going on another long journey.
"Daddy, come back soon!" Emily demanded in her baby voice.
"Be careful!" Little Arno instructed like a little adult.
"I will."
Yano promised solemnly, stood up, his gaze sweeping over his wife's face, which seemed to hold unspoken words, ultimately transforming into a firm nod.
He took a deep breath, sat in the driver's seat, and picked up the reins.
For Lola's smile, for the children's future, for this family...
Demon, I'm back.
He gritted his teeth secretly, his gaze sharp as he looked toward the road leading to Reed River.
"Giddy up!"
The carriage creaked and slowly pulled away from the town, leaving behind the worried gazes of his wife and children and the warm smoke from cooking fires.
The wheels jolted over the bumpy dirt road; behind them, the outline of Ironboot Town gradually disappeared.
Yano glanced back at the supplies piled in the carriage bed.
Most of the space was occupied by sturdy sacks filled with precious salt and dried grains, meant for trading with the Lizardfolk of the Rotten Moss Tribe.
Near his driver's seat, a small box made of fine pine wood, polished very smooth, was securely fastened, standing out starkly against the rough cargo surrounding it.
Inside the box were the "offerings" he had carefully prepared.
Inside was a Common Tongue "Basic Grammar and Vocabulary" book, and a "Common Lizardfolk Phrases Handbook" he had gone to considerable effort to acquire from the Ironboot Town Adventurer's Guild.
A tightly sealed small lead-tin bottle containing valuable "Stardust Blue" magical ink, said to be made from the ink of a certain deep-sea squid—essential for mages drawing scrolls and long-distance communication Magic Formations—with an Alchemist Association certification label still stuck to the bottle.
An exquisite insulated food box—containing small cakes from the only high-end bakery in Ironboot Town.
And several bars of dark chocolate from a distant southern merchant caravan, carefully wrapped in tin foil, along with a small bag of colorful hard candies.
Looking at these strange "offerings," Yano couldn't help but let his imagination run wild. That low, hoarse demonic voice echoed in his mind once more.
Do demons in hell also have a sweet tooth?
Or is it... truly part of some incomprehensible sacrificial ritual?
He shook his head, dismissing these unanswerable thoughts.
No matter what, a contract is a contract.
He tightened his grip on the reins, his gaze once again fixed on the rushing river ahead, murmuring under his breath.
"I'm back."