NOVEL NEXT Chapter 69
EP.69 Café Bene (1)
– Looks like you’re really growing some patience.
– Huh? What do you mean by that?
– Just a thought as I watch your moves lately. With the Mackhart situation and the Cesar assistant issue… I’m glad to see your temper is mellowing.
I recall the conversation we had this morning.
– Seriously, getting upset won’t do you any good. It just makes cleanup more annoying. Try to hold it in. If you lose your cool and start cursing, I won’t say anything.
Those were my Master’s strict instructions.
– So, please just hold back when it comes to violence against people.
– Haven’t you calmed down a lot lately? I hope you’ll let me trust you, Raniel.
Thinking about those words, I stroked my chin.
“Hmm…”
It’s true, I’ve definitely mellowed out.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about it a lot. My patience has increased significantly. Compared to five years ago, it’s astonishing. I realized this when I bumped into Kyle not long ago.
Back then, I didn’t throw a punch right away.
Just that alone was quite a remarkable growth. If the five-year-ago version of me had been there?
“I would’ve started with a heavy blow.”
I wouldn’t have hesitated to launch my spell right away.
I had more than enough justification for that. Considering the overall time I wasted because of Kyle, my patience at managing it with just one punch is incredible.
“That was because that bastard taunted me first.”
If it hadn’t been for that, I would have just ignored it and walked past.
“I’ve really improved a lot.”
They say people grow by enduring hardship and adversity.
Indeed, that saying stood true. The past five years have been filled with trials that could easily be called challenges.
I’ve held back a lot.
I’ve truly held back. If I lost my cool for real, I would have had to deal with a week-long tantrum from Sara and Remia.
“Come to think of it, even during our party… I don’t think I ever hit them.”
In the five years I was in the party, while there were instances where I tore clothes in front of me… I never laid a hand on Sara or Remia.
I held it in, even if I was angry.
If they chattered nonsense, I countered with some fierce curses instead. Looking back, those five years really thickened my tongue.
– Damn, gods dangling from the sky. Does God feed you?
– Have you ever bargained with a star? That so-called God you worship, the star, is way more temperamental than you think.
– If faith were enough to bargain, I’d become a fanatic right now.
Feeling bold, I’d throw back facts at the whining Saint.
– Elves live in forests, right? But why are you so worldly? Is that really necessary? Have all the elves making clothes from leaves died?
– They say elves only eat dew, right? If you can’t handle it, you can cook for once. Is it even right to compare cooking with beasts to a high-end restaurant?
…Depending on the situation, I wouldn’t hesitate to unleash racial slurs. When I think about it, Remia has played a significant role in ruining my image of elves.
‘…Was the racial slur a bit too much?’
Well, anyway.
The key point is that at least, I didn’t resort to violence.
Just that once.
Except for that one time.
“…That was a worthy hit.”
“Excuse me?”
I bitterly smiled at Resti, who tilted her head.
“Just talking to myself. Ah, we’re almost at the café.”
I paused for a moment to look around.
A bench was visible a little away from the café. It was well-lit by the sun.
“That looks nice.”
I pointed to that bench.
“Want to sit there first? I’ll get some coffee. Is there anything else you want to drink?”
“No, I’m fine with the same as you, Professor.”
“Alright, I’ll be right back.”
After sending Resti to the bench, I made my way to the café. While walking, I organized my thoughts. Where was I again?
Right, just that one exception.
I recalled that exception.
2.
My memory goes back long ago.
– What did you just say?
It must have been when we were facing the Demon Lord’s army, which was crashing in from nearby villages. At that time, the villagers were cooperative.
– Did I say something weird?
It’s because we had the Saint with us.
That village was where the Deloheim Church was located. A small village, but their faith in the divine was remarkable.
‘So that’s why she reacted that way to Sara.’
The significance of a Saint among the followers of Deloheim is immense.
In some ways, even more than a Hero.
– I’m not saying anything wrong, you know?
At that time, Sara, almost idolized by the villagers, approached me as I was erecting a barricade.
– …They’re people who will sacrifice themselves for us, right? That’s what we learned at the Deloheim Church. It’s natural for the believers to die for the Saint.
Then she spoke with a tone as though casually asking why I was doing such a foolish thing, pointing at the barricade.
– So, Sara.
– I hope I misheard you; what you’re saying now is…
Let this village be trampled by the Demon Lord’s army and blow it all to pieces with explosion circuits? As bait?
To set traps in the village and wipe out the Demon Lord’s army?
That’s how the Saint, Sara, spoke to me.
– Isn’t that better? It’s efficient.
She stated it as a matter of fact.
– These people are believers of Deloheim, right? The first chapter of Deloheim’s gospel says that when they give their life for the divine, they are taken to heaven.
She talked about divinity.
– The Hero is a messenger of the divine, and I’m the divine’s surrogate, right? So for our convenience…
– Shut it, Sara.
At that moment.
– You’re unbelievable, you fucking idiot.
That was the first time I hit Sara.
I punched her cheek. Grabbing her symbolic pink hair, I dragged her around the village.
Then, I threw her out of the village.
– Hey, Sara.
Kyle didn’t stop me either.
Neither Kyle nor I were in a position to criticize, as we were refugees who’d lost our village due to what she had just said.
– This may be your last warning, but if you ever speak like that again in front of me or Kyle…
I pulled out a stake I had hammered into the ground with mana and aimed it at her head.
– I think I’ll have to find out how my hometown folks died because of you.
– I hope that never happens.
After that, I guess I’ve never laid a hand on Sara or Remia. The only time Kyle cooperated was back then, too.
‘…Reflecting back, does Kyle lack pride?’
Seeing him hanging around with someone who says such ridiculous things… it seems very likely. His parents must be crying up in the sky.
‘…That’s why I can’t diss Kyle’s parents.’
I know all of them.
I’ve eaten at their place many times.
But how could I badmouth his parents? I sighed as I grabbed the café’s doorknob.
‘Let me just drink some coffee and clear my head.’
Thinking back makes me feel dirty.
I shook my head, shaking off the past, and focused only on a bright future. Black coffee. The drink of intellect.
‘Since Resti is with me today, should I also buy some honey bread?’
A dessert covered in honey.
I don’t eat it often since it fills me up quickly, but… well, since I skipped lunch today, it should be fine.
Thinking of that, I opened the café’s door.
The moment I opened the door, the rich aroma of coffee wafted in. Just that scent felt healing. I walked into the café with a slight smile.
“The coffee tastes great, owner?”
“It’s an honor to hear that, Saint.”
I paused.
“If there were a barista like you on the battlefield, it would be wonderful—what a pity, isn’t it? Any chance you’d like to come with me?”
“Ahaha… it would be an honor to go with a saint, but it would be tough. I’m a bit frail.”
“That’s really too bad.”
A familiar voice lingered in my ears.
It was a voice that felt both familiar and strange. Not the usual sharp tone, but rather, as if she was forcing herself to sound cute…
‘Right, it’s a voice she uses when whispering to that bastard Kyle.’
I turned my creaking head.
I looked at the girl sitting in front of the owner.
“Eh? Professor Rania, you’re here? You’re a bit late today.”
Just then, the owner called my name.
She looked at me, and the only other customer in the café turned to look as well.
Her pink hair fluttered.
The pink hair reminiscent of the Queen of Succubi, the Flower Queen.
That damn girl blinked.
Her weed-like pale green eyes were on me.
‘What the hell.’
The Saint of the Deloheim Church, Sara.
She was looking at me.
“…”
My upbeat mood plummeted into the gutter.
My face twisted as if I had bitten into a bug.
‘I really want to hit something…’
My fingers twitched.
3.
The Saint, Sara, was genuinely happy to be in the Royal Capital.
She came due to a bothersome matter, but upon arriving, she learned all those bothersome matters were finished.
‘Especially that Raniel.’
He was a hot-headed guy, but his skills were undeniable. There was no need to worry about the cleanup.
‘Remia went into the forest to recharge her spirit after a long time, so… today feels leisurely.’
A rare vacation.
There was no reason to feel bad.
“Hmm, hmm.”
Sara hummed a tune, sliding her hand into her priestly robe. In her hand was a mirror. Sara took out the hand mirror to check her face.
Her neatly combed hair was as beautiful as cherry blossoms. Her pale green eyes looked fresh like newly sprouted leaves.
She was always perfect in appearance.
Since there was no need to head to the battlefield, her beauty seemed to shine even more. Smiling for no reason, Sara put the mirror back into her robe.
It was priestly clothing from the Black Tower.
It has spatial expansion and protection magic, so it won’t break even if she throws in a mirror.
‘I really made a good purchase.’
That guy who complained about her buying such a nice thing wasn’t around, so every day was a delight.
“Your coffee is ready.”
“Oh, thank you.”
Sara smiled at the owner and took in the aroma of the coffee. That scent was quite pleasant.
She’d been coming to this café frequently over the last few days.
With the owner’s skills being extraordinary, Sara had been practically living in the café these days.
“Your coffee is really great, owner?”
“It’s an honor to hear that, Saint.”
Hearing the voice addressing her as Saint made Sara smile.
There was a certain admiration in that voice. That tone made her feel happy.
‘It’s a voice I can’t hear on the battlefield.’
On the battlefield, such tones don’t exist.
Voices calling her, frantic to save the dying, or to reinforce the barriers, are urgent.
Sara preferred this kind of voice over those.
“It would be great if a barista like you were on the battlefield.”
“Ahaha… It would be an honor to go with a Saint, but…”
As they were having such trivial conversations, the owner suddenly gazed toward the door, then cheerfully greeted.
“Eh? Professor Rania, you’re here? You’re a bit late today.”
Sara looked toward the direction of that greeting.
There stood a girl. The first thing that caught her eye was the color of the girl’s hair.
‘…Ashen-haired?’
Sara’s eyes narrowed.
‘Ashen-haired with blue eyes.’
It strangely resembled some guy from her memory. Sara squinted as she gazed at the girl, whose unimpressed first impression wasn’t good.
Still, she was a Saint.
One must not show emotions outwardly.
Sara waved at the girl with an artificial smile, choosing the softest voice.
“Nice to meet you. Rania… you said you’re a professor?”
At her words, the girl’s expression soured.
It was a look akin to chewing on a bug. As if she had seen something she shouldn’t, the girl squeezed her eyes shut and briefly glanced at the ceiling.
“What the hell, Saint…”
The voice that leaked out was like that.
Sara’s eyes widened.
Usually, when people faced her, they looked at her with admiration. But occasionally, there were those who reacted intensely out of being overwhelmed.
Yes, just like the girl right in front of her.
Though the expression of chewing a bug was a bit odd… it could be interpreted as an expression of being moved.
Sara straightened her posture.
‘That first impression almost got me in trouble.’
What was she about to do to my fan?
With a cheerful smile, Sara gazed at the girl as she sat demurely. Then, she smiled.
“You were my fan, weren’t you?”