WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Dionysus
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◈ The Wizard's Memoir ◈
Chapter 21: Praise
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After the ancient kingdom fell, hundreds of years of turmoil passed. By the time the line between history and legend had blurred, an unnamed hero had brought a new and unique “Kingdom” into being.
Following the ancient system, the unnamed hero declared themself “king,” but did not follow the ancient kingdom down the same path to ruin.
The king officially abolished slavery, a once cruel institution that had already become meaningless by then, and accepted intelligent nonhuman races as friends of humanity. This gave rise to the allied races, also known as the Alliance.
The many distinct races scattered across the world needed some time to accept this new order, which could also be seen as rather arrogant interference.
Curious halflings, who closely resembled humans, fit in naturally. Elves, as slow to change as their lives were long, took more than a hundred years to join the Alliance. By elven standards, this was actually an unusually quick decision, but few other races understood that.
Mermen, dwarves, centaurs, and others also joined the Alliance. A vast and powerful civilization arose, stretching from the great western plains to the reefs of the southern archipelago. Hasty scholars and excitable poets even sang of the ancient kingdom’s glorious civilization being reborn.
But not every intelligent race accepted the new order.
“Why do they dislike humans?”
“At first, it was pride, but now, it’s probably a sense of humiliation. Even the name ‘demon’ isn’t exactly friendly, is it?”
With mixed feelings, Etran looked at the Sorcerer, a member of the demon race that had remained apart for so long.
The captive’s feet had enough slack to walk, but both arms were bound tightly against the body, from the upper arms down to the forearms. Even the fingers had been carefully folded and wrapped in cloth. The bindings seemed almost paranoid, but there was little choice with a Sorcerer.
“Isn’t taking away the staff and rings enough?”
“Magic rings are just equipment that makes casting easier. Even without a ring, you can draw magic circles using blood, sand, charcoal, and things like that as catalysts.”
It was like a painter’s brush. A painter whose work had reached the level of true artistry could create a masterpiece with bare hands. That went without saying for an unpredictable Sorcerer.
Naturally, the Sorcerer was far from pleased. With such thorough precautions, escape was out of the question. Struggling was about the most the captive could manage, and even that did not last long.
“Please just come quietly. It was attempted murder, not murder. Surely they won’t kill you?”
Olivia delivered this appeal along with a knock to each side of the captive’s jaw, finally winning reluctant agreement. As expected, adding physical force to a kind suggestion worked very well.
Time passed, and before they knew it, the second watch had begun, around nine at night.
Olivia volunteered to stand watch until the start of the third watch, but nobody in the party lay down. They never slept deeply without a roof overhead, and now they had a prisoner to watch as well.
Dahlia hummed thoughtfully, then asked a question as if it had just occurred to them, though it was far too obvious that they had been thinking about it for a long time.
“Didn’t the Guild tell us to capture demons?”
“Because a demon stole the Hero’s holy relic.”
The request had been upgraded from a reward for recovering the relic to a reward just for capturing a demon. Torn between greed and hesitation, Dahlia asked another question.
“Then what do we do? Take this one to the Guild Pub?”
“Well... judging by the timing, I don’t think this is the thief who stole the relic...”
The ancestors’ burial ground had been robbed twenty days ago. With another day gone by, that now made twenty-one, which did not match the time of the theft in the royal capital. Besides, someone who had a holy relic hardly seemed likely to stoop to coveting dwarven grave goods.
Olivia considered what to do with the Sorcerer. In truth, the answer was already clear.
“I think we should hand the prisoner over to Graystone. That’s the village this criminal harmed.”
“What about us? We were attacked too.”
“Should we hit our prisoner a few more times?”
“Wow! What a barbarian!”
Both Olivia and Dahlia were ordinary people, human and halfling respectively. In other words, they were sensible people who listened to reason without ignoring their feelings. They could not simply kill someone they had already subdued on the grounds that, “You tried to kill me, so die.” Working with a blade did not make killing easy.
“Um, there’s a problem with handing the prisoner over to the dwarves, too.”
Etran offered an opinion. Neither the party leader nor its oldest member ignored it. Etran glanced at Grom, who was busy gathering the remains, then spoke quietly.
“There’s still a traitor.”
Strictly speaking, “accomplice” would have been more accurate, but Grom had firmly called the culprit a traitor, so Etran used that word too. From the dwarven village’s point of view, it was not exactly wrong.
“Can’t the village deal with that too? We’re adventurers, not the king’s magistrates.”
“Even magistrates can’t interfere in a dwarven village.”
Etran scratched their head awkwardly. Still, since they were in the same party, the others ought to know.
“What if the village chief is the most likely traitor?”
The chief had met the Sorcerer through the Markus Trading Company, and the chief had also sent Olivia’s party here. Suspicion was bound to build. Olivia quietly agreed, then asked a question.
“How do we prove it?”
“The easiest way would be testimony. Could you tell us who you plotted with?”
At Etran’s request, the Sorcerer turned away and ignored them. Olivia growled with a fierce expression.
“Do we need to use torture?”
“That’s a bit... Do you know how?”
“...No.”
Again, they were ordinary people. Killing was hard enough. Torture was hardly going to be easy.
For that matter, questioning someone while causing pain without killing them required specialized skills. They could probably manage an indirect method like starving the captive until the truth came out, but... No, they gave up on that too. There was no need to become so cruel over the dwarves’ business.
“Then what do we do? Just take our pay and call it a day?”
“That feels a bit wrong too... Like taking a dump and not wiping...”
“Could you please use a more refined comparison, like a lady?”
Etran looked appalled, and Dahlia lifted their chin proudly. Continuing this conversation would only be exhausting, so they went back to the beginning. There seemed to be only one solution.
“Let’s sound out the chief.”
“How?”
“If we act like we already know everything, won’t we get some kind of reaction?”
Etran looked as though this was a fine idea, but Olivia and Dahlia seemed doubtful.
“I can’t act like that...”
“Me neither. I’ve lived such an honest life.”
It was a top-class halfling joke. Olivia and Rolf gave Dahlia looks of utter disgust, but as a halfling, Dahlia remained shameless. Etran pretended not to have heard and offered an alternative.
“Just play supporting roles and agree with what’s said. I have someone else in mind for the lead.”
“Who? You?”
“Someone who’ll do much better than me. Well, not human, technically.”
Etran turned to look behind them with a meaningful expression. There stood a dwarf beside a pile of gathered bones, lamenting, “Oh, you blasted ancestor. What a lot of trouble you’re putting me through.”
@
Just as halflings stole without malice, dwarves had a simple, honest side beneath their rough manners.
“You scoundreeel!”
The dwarves of Graystone rushed out of their homes in alarm. Then a sight unlike anything they had ever seen startled them all over again.
“Good heavens... Humans and a halfling weren’t enough? Now there’s a demon too...?”
Both arms were bound, and there was even a gag, but this was still a terrifying demon. Just as they began wondering why anyone had dragged such a frightening creature here, an even greater spectacle unfolded.
Grom, the senior blacksmith, charged at Graystone’s chief in a towering rage. At last, Etran got to watch the dwarven brawl they had missed before.
It began with punches. A short but heavy fist flattened the chief’s nose. As the chief cried, “Oof!” and lost balance, Grom immediately grabbed the chief by the scruff and crotch.
“Heave-ho!”
Small as Grom was, the dwarf had tremendous strength. Grom lifted the boulder-like chief into the air. The chief struggled desperately, but with such short limbs, could not reach Grom. Grom spun once on the spot, then hurled the chief away.
“Woooow!”
Cheers rose from all over the village. There was not an ounce of concern in that admiration. Partly, this was because the chief had a poor reputation, but it was also because this was not particularly dangerous by dwarven standards.
The chief rolled across the ground about six times, then sprang up. Dwarves were a race as tough as flint. Apart from a dirty beard, the chief was perfectly fine.
“What do you think you’re doing? Have you gone senile?!”
The chief was still a dwarf, even with a beard turned white. Apparently unwilling to take this lying down, the chief clenched both fists. But the brawl was over.
When Olivia drew a mace and handed it to Grom, the chief quickly came to their senses. A fight with weapons required more careful thought, especially when you did not have a weapon of your own.
“You know what you’ve done!”
Grom shouted in a ringing voice loud enough for every dwarf in the village to hear. Those bloodshot eyes were truly frightening. The chief flinched, eyes darting about.
“Wh-what have I done?”
“The evidence is right here! Will you deny it to the bitter end?”
The hexagonal iron head pointed at the Sorcerer. Hundreds of pairs of eyes followed it. Grom shouted triumphantly.
“This demon woman is the thief who robbed our ancestors’ burial ground!”
“What?”
“The culprit was a demon?!”
Grom turned the hexagonal head toward the chief, who flinched as though struck by a crossbow bolt.
“And there stands the traitor who put her up to it!”
“N-no! It wasn’t me!”
“The demon woman has already confessed! You told her where the graves were and had her attack the adventurers!”
At Grom’s thunderous shout, the chief shrank back without another word. That reaction made it one hundred percent certain. Given the race’s fiery nature, they could even call it one hundred and twenty percent. Graystone’s chief was the Sorcerer grave robber’s accomplice.
Grom charged forward, threatening to split the chief’s skull, and Olivia and Rolf hurriedly held the furious dwarf back. There was no need for Grom to go to the trouble anyway. The village dwarves were already beating the chief as a group. It was a truly lively piece of theater. Dahlia, Extra A, who had yet to receive a script, whispered to the director.
“Was that beardy one always like this? That acting is incredibly realistic.”
“That’s not acting.”
Etran snapped their fingers just in case, then revealed the secret behind the passionate performance.
“I lied and said the Sorcerer had confessed.”
“What?”
The Sorcerer protested, “Mmmph! Mmph!” but could not get past her gag. In other words, Grom genuinely believed the chief was the traitor. Then again, with a dwarf’s temperament, there was no way Grom could have faked such rage.
“Wait... Then what would you have done if that beardy one had snapped and just stabbed the chief? Stab, splat!”
“I checked that Grom didn’t have any weapons.”
“But Ollie gave Grom that!”
A menacing hexagonal mace rested in Grom’s hand. Olivia had already received the script, so why had the warrior gone off-script? A look at those eyes gave the answer. Olivia was completely caught up in the play. This young woman would surely be vulnerable to mental magic.
The novice director scratched the back of their head and offered an irresponsible conclusion.
“Well, the chief really was the culprit, so doesn’t that make it all right?”
“...You really are one of us.”
It did not sound much like praise, but Etran took it as praise anyway. After all, this was the happy moment of completing their first request as an adventurer.
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