Chapter 151
What happened?
Soldiers with stern faces have blocked the road and are gathered on the other side.
In front of the sealed-off passage, passersby occasionally try to peek past the soldiers to see what’s going on, but the men in uniform block their view, making it impossible.
"Those are Duke Boltlande’s private soldiers."
"You can tell?"
"Yes, do you see the crest on their chests?"
The emblem of a serpent and staff.
The crest uniformly worn by the soldiers belongs to Duke Boltlande.
But why would his men block off a passage near the market district?
That was the question.
"With a lockdown this large-scale, something major must’ve happened further inside, right?"
This timeline is earlier than in the original story.
I wrack my brain, trying to recall if there was any such incident in a flashback or side story.
"...Which one was it?"
There are too many possibilities, and I end up scratching my head in frustration.
Just off the top of my head, I can think of at least five incidents that fit the criteria of happening near the market district.
Narrowing it down further to events involving Duke Boltlande, the number actually increases to six, including a quest I’d forgotten about.
In the end, I couldn’t pinpoint which incident this was.
"Liberta?"
"What’s up?"
"Look."
Amina, who had been silently observing, tugs at the hem of my coat and points.
Following her gaze, I see—
"Adventurers?"
A group of adventurers talking with the soldiers.
"Wait, no—guild staff?"
The adventurers, likely combat specialists, act as escorts while uniformed guild personnel converse with the soldiers from behind them.
"If this were just a brawl, it wouldn’t warrant this kind of response, right?"
"Indeed. And the atmosphere doesn’t seem favorable either. Liberta, even if you have business here, perhaps it would be best to return another day."
The situation doesn’t look good.
Both sides wear tense expressions, and the air is thick with the possibility of violence breaking out at any moment.
This isn’t just some minor incident.
"Sorry, I’ll be right back."
"Eh?! Be careful!"
"Please return by dinner."
Sensing that gathering intel now would be wise, I excuse myself and slip away quietly, blending into the crowd as I move.
The voices of the two, confused but supportive, fade behind me as I navigate through the throng of people.
*Man, I’m glad I played all those stealth games.*
Moving against the flow, I minimize my presence, ensuring I don’t draw attention as I inch closer to the blocked-off road.
The soldiers guarding the area glance at anyone approaching but quickly look away when they see it’s just a kid.
Getting any closer might raise suspicion, so I casually change direction—but not before catching a glimpse past the soldiers.
Nothing seems out of the ordinary at first glance.
If something happened, it must be further down the road.
Right now, this feels like one of those "find the hidden path" quests.
A normally accessible area gets locked down due to an event, forcing you to search for an alternate route.
In situations like these, stealth is key.
"Not just soldiers—the covert ops are mobilized too?"
Judging by the soldiers’ alertness, this isn’t just some minor disturbance.
A quick glance at the rooftops—usually empty—reveals dark figures lurking in the shadows.
*Hmm, maybe I could go over the roofs?*
But getting spotted by covert operatives up there would be bad.
Which leaves…
"Guess I’ll have to find another way in."
The capital’s streets are orderly on the surface, but the back alleys are a tangled mess.
"Places like this, blocked off by walls… a spear could work."
Veering right, then left, I scout for detours until I find a spot sealed off by a wooden barrier.
At first glance, it looks impassable—no crates to climb, no handholds.
But with a scythe-spear, it’s doable.
Untying the carrying strap, I loop it around the blade’s base, then plant the spear against the wall.
A short running start, a quick dash up the shaft, and a leap—my hands catch the edge.
Biting down on the strap, I pull myself up and over.
"Whoa… they really went all out, huh?"
The sight that greets me on the other side is a street reduced to rubble.
Even a localized storm wouldn’t cause this much destruction.
"No signs of casualties. So, a draw, then?"
For a second, I wonder if a monster rampaged through, but if something that powerful had appeared, the soldiers would be in a much bigger panic.
Which means people did this.
The lack of blood suggests no serious injuries or deaths.
To learn more, I’ll have to go deeper.
Right, left, up, down—I scan for any soldiers or covert ops before hopping down and sticking to the shadows.
Landing as quietly as possible, I immediately duck behind cover.
"Hmm… one of them was a power type. A berserker-style fighter, maybe? Ugh, too many possibilities."
Moving from cover to cover, I study the wreckage.
The destruction seems one-sided—no magic, just pure physical force.
A certain muscle-bound brute comes to mind. Few others could leave a mess like this.
"But if it *was* him, that means his opponent was strong enough to hold their own?"
If someone actually *beat* him in a fight, the aftermath would be far more gruesome—blood and gore everywhere, R18-level carnage.
But there’s none of that.
So, did someone claim victory, or was it a stalemate?
"...Did someone manage to calm Jakaran down and force a draw?"
Between the two, the latter seems more likely—especially if Duke Boltlande, his guardian, stepped in to mediate.
Given the state of things, they must’ve intervened early, while Jakaran still had some rationality left.
Continuing my search, I eventually reach—
"...Oh boy."
A house I was supposed to visit.
A massive hole gapes in its side, and the family is busy clearing debris.
Along the way, I’d seen others repairing their homes or staring blankly at the ruins of theirs.
I can’t bring myself to say "at least no one was hurt," but I’m relieved my acquaintance is safe.
Still, the repair costs for that hole must be astronomical.
A man who seems to be the father and another, older man—likely the grandfather—stand with furrowed brows, clearly troubled.
After confirming no soldiers are watching, I approach.
"Rough day, huh?"
"Ah, you’re—"
"Here to deliver your requested item, but… seems like bad timing."
The boy recognizes me and responds with an apologetic look.
"Sorry, about the key… could we cancel the request? I know it’s unfair, but we need the money to fix the house."
He bows, fully aware of how unreasonable it is to back out after I’ve already completed the job.
Given the state of their home, I completely understand.
So—
"How about I buy the key from you instead?"
"Eh?"
"I can pay 10,000 zeni upfront."
The key’s market value in FBO was around 15,000, so this is slightly under, but I’d pay double if it meant securing it.
"W-Wait a second!"
He rushes off to explain things to his family, who are still clearing rubble.
"...Oof, got punched."
From the sound of it, he mentioned my offer, only to get a knuckle sandwich from the burly old man.
Said old man now marches toward me.
"So, you’re the one fulfillin’ the boy’s request?"
"Ah, yes."
"Grandson told me. Backin’ outta deals with adventurers ruins trust. Keep the original deal—you give me what I asked for, and the key’s yours."
This no-nonsense grandpa clearly despises dishonesty.
*Wait, does he even have a name?*
In the game, he was always just "Grandpa."
"Understood. As long as I get the key, I’m fine with that."
Money would’ve worked, but sticking to the quest is fine too.
Putting away the coin pouch, I pull out a Haniwa Sword from my magic bag.
"This is the weapon that’ll fulfill your dream."
"The hell? Ain’t got no blade."
"That’s the point. Once activated, it stays deployed until its energy runs out. But if you release *all* the energy at once, the blade becomes a beam."
"Hooh. Been an adventurer for decades, but I’ve never seen or heard of a weapon like this."
"Of course, I’m not lying. I’ll demonstrate with one, let you test another, and give you a fresh one to keep. How’s that?"
I’d brought extras, so this works for me.
But the old man shakes his head.
"Nah, no need. Don’t think you’re lyin’. Just gimme two—one for me, one for the boy. That’s enough."
"You sure? I don’t mind."
"A man’s word is his bond. Just show me how to use it."
With that settled, I hand over the Haniwa Swords and explain their operation—just channel mana into the gem to activate the light blade.
"The beam’s a one-time thing—dumps all remaining energy. Use it wisely."
"Mm. Might take this out for a hunt, test it on some monsters."
The beam’s activation phrase is simple—just say "full energy release" while channeling mana into the gem.
Gotta love voice-activated finishers.
The old man grins, some of his earlier frustration fading.
"Make sure nothing’s in the line of fire when you use it."
"Course. Though right now, I’d love to take this to the bastard who wrecked my house."
Then he drops a bombshell.
"The guy who made this mess… did the soldiers arrest him?"
"Nah. Some big shot showed up, stopped him, and carted him off in a carriage. Poor sod who fought him, too—heard he was protectin’ some girl, but now he’s got nobles on his back. Guild staff’s negotiatin’ with the soldiers now."
"Big shot" implies nobility. If a noble’s carriage took him away without consequences, it *was* Jakaran.
And his opponent? An adventurer protecting a girl.
"Talk about bad luck for that adventurer."
"Eh, for all his bad rep, at least he’s got the guts to protect a woman."
"...What happened to him, by the way?"
A sinking feeling creeps in.
A kind adventurer with a bad reputation who protects women?
That narrows it down *way* too much.
"Oh, he left with some pink-haired lass, headin’ to the guild. After wreckin’ this much, the Guildmaster’s gotta debrief ‘em."
Jakaran clashed with Ares.
And nearby? The pink-haired trouble magnet.
*Yep. This reeks of disaster.*
As I accept the key, I can’t help but grimace.
*Maybe I should leave the capital for a while.*