“Daddy!”

    As soon as I returned to the dormitory, Ariel greeted me enthusiastically, as expected.

    She must have known in advance that I was coming because she ran toward me with a bright smile.

    The little sprout on top of her head, as if mirroring her emotions, was standing straight up. It didn’t seem like it had grown, though.

    “My dear Ariel. Did you do well while Daddy was away?”

    I lightly lifted Ariel into my arms, smiling happily.

    It hadn’t even been a full week since I left for the Imperial Palace, yet she was reacting so passionately.

    The unease in my heart, stirred by the news in the papers, felt a little soothed.

    “Yeah! I played with Grandpa Clark!”

    Ariel nodded energetically in response to my question.

    The sprout on her head swayed back and forth in sync with her movement.

    Hearing her answer, I shifted my gaze from her to the bed.

    [You’ve returned.]

    Clark, having noticed my arrival, spoke in his usual blunt tone. As before, he was lying on the bed, reading The Chronicles of Zenon.

    His posture, with one leg crossed over the other, looked comfortable.

    The only difference from last time was the cigar in his mouth.

    That cigar was something I had bought for him before heading to the Imperial Palace—a luxury item made from the leaves of the World Tree, something only the wealthiest of the wealthy could afford to smoke.

    Since it was crafted from the World Tree’s leaves, it didn’t pose any risks of secondhand smoke, unlike regular tobacco.

    In fact, it was the opposite.

    Rather than a harsh, smoky scent, it emitted a fragrant aroma.

    Normally, tobacco should give off a pungent smell, but right now, the dormitory was filled with a sweet fragrance.

    ‘It’s nice that I can get things like this directly from Arwen.’

    The reason I could obtain it so easily, without going through any distribution channels, was none other than Arwen.

    When I asked her for it, she gave me an entire carton instead of just one.

    Since her residence in Elodia was connected to the mansion, this kind of convenience was possible.

    And since I even received it as an official “gift” from her, the elves of Alvenheim could be directly involved.

    Now, I wouldn’t have to trouble Sirius with this kind of errand.

    Of course, Arwen was understandably puzzled when I specifically requested cigars, but I planned to explain it to her in due time.

    “Have you been resting well?”

    [More or less. It’s a bit awkward, actually, being this comfortable. Back when I was alive, every day was a struggle filled with tension.]

    Whoo—

    Clark exhaled a long breath, releasing a plume of smoke. Interestingly, rather than the usual gray, the smoke had a bluish hue.

    As it spread through the room, it gradually dissipated into nothing. Instead of the usual acrid tobacco scent, the dormitory was filled with a refreshing minty fragrance.

    Still holding Ariel in my arms, I slowly approached Clark. In the meantime, Adelia had gone to her room to unpack.

    When I got closer, I noticed that Clark was reading the 28th volume of The Chronicles of Zenon.

    “Have you been reading this whole time?”

    [I sparred with that son of mine a few times and read the newspaper now and then. But yeah, most of my time was spent reading this.]

    “You must be reading very carefully.”

    I had been away at the Imperial Palace for nearly a week.

    Since Clark was now an undead skeleton, he didn’t need sleep.

    Considering the amount of time he had, his reading pace seemed relatively slow.

    I had noticed it before, but he seemed like the type to meticulously read each word.

    [It’s a habit. There was a time I overlooked a single key word and suffered for months. I usually take notes, but with this book, there’s no need.

    Besides, I have plenty of time, so I can read it over and over.]

    “Ah. So... is this your second read-through?”

    [Second read-through? What’s that supposed to mean?]

    Oops. I had accidentally used a phrase from my past life. While the term itself existed, it wasn’t commonly used as slang.

    Realizing my slip-up, I quickly reworded my question.

    “I misspoke. I meant, is this your second time reading it?”

    [That’s right. With nearly 30 volumes, I tend to forget details from earlier ones, so I decided to go through it again.]

    “Yeah, it’s surprisingly long. So, what do you think? Is it interesting?”

    [Rather than interesting... every time I read it, I feel relieved that the world never actually turned out that way.]

    Having lived a life closer to that of a true hero than anyone else, his words carried a striking sense of realism.

    It wasn’t a joke—he genuinely meant it.

    His remark left me feeling unexpectedly solemn, making it hard to come up with a response.

    After rolling my eyes around, I carefully spoke again.

    “...Other than that, nothing else stands out to you?”

    At Roy’s heavy sigh, his companion, Anne, offered a statement that was meant to be comforting—but wasn’t.

    Back when the campaign to hunt demon worshippers was in full swing, Roy had been brimming with enthusiasm.

    It seemed like just yesterday that he would charge at any demon worshipper with fire in his eyes, but now, all that remained was a listless drifter.

    “I mean, come on. Does Jin really have to die?”

    Roy’s response to Anne’s words was more of a frustrated protest.

    His expression practically screamed that he was on the verge of losing his mind over it.

    Indeed, he had been a devoted reader of The Chronicles of Zenon since the first volume.

    Not only that, but he was also an ardent supporter of the Jin and Lily pairing.

    Although he acknowledged that the Zenon and Mary couple was good too, he was far more invested in Jin and Lily’s relationship.

    But now, with Jin’s death all but confirmed, everything had become dull and meaningless to him.

    “It can’t be helped. The story needs to tie up all the loose ends, and it makes the plot stronger. Sacrifices are necessary—”

    “You are completely heartless.”

    “You’re the weird one here. No, wait. I guess you’re actually normal... hmm.”

    Anne knew all too well how obsessed Jin and Lily’s fans had become.

    That made it difficult to outright call Roy abnormal.

    But since she read The Chronicles of Zenon in a more casual way, she couldn’t quite understand his distress.

    Was it really worth getting so worked up over a character’s death?

    Of course, she understood that it was sad.

    She had even wiped away a few tears in secret when reading about Sakran’s sacrifice and other tragic moments.

    Jin’s death had hit her as well, but not as hard.

    Rather than being devastated, she simply admired how well the story was written while feeling a mix of sadness and acceptance.

    “Anyway, let’s just focus on today’s request. If you get hurt because you were distracted, it’s on you.”

    “Sigh... fine.“

    With Anne’s encouragement, Roy let out another sigh and nodded. Just as she had said, he couldn’t stay lost in grief forever.

    As the two of them made their way to the adventurers’ guild, they soon realized that the atmosphere was unusually chaotic.

    A crowd had gathered in front of the request board, each person eagerly chattering about something.

    “Huh? What’s going on?”

    “Not sure. Maybe some kind of official notice?”

    Situations like this usually occurred when the lord issued a direct decree or when some other major news was announced.

    Receiving some help from fellow adventurers, Roy and Anne managed to squeeze their way to the front of the board.

    As expected, a new notice had been posted.

    [Seeking adventurers to escort a funeral procession. No limit on the number of participants.

    Identification required. Location: ............]

    [Start date: Three days after the release of the new Chronicles of Zenon volume.]

    [Destination: Marischal Territory of the Minerva Empire.]

    [Condition: Only if Jin’s death is confirmed.]

    “......?”

    Roy and Anne blinked in confusion. At first, they thought it was a joke.

    But then their eyes landed on the reward amount.

    Despite it being a simple escort mission, the pay was extraordinarily high.

    It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that this was the kind of sum usually reserved for guarding the funeral of a highly honored individual.

    Normally, nobles would use knights for such tasks, rendering adventurers unnecessary, but the person who had posted this request was known to be an incredibly wealthy individual.

    “They’re really just throwing money around at this point. But honestly? I think I’d do the same if I were them.”

    “How many people have signed up so far? I heard there’s already a huge number.”

    “They’ve been recruiting in every city they pass through. The plan is to form a long procession, just like a real funeral, while we provide escort support.”

    “Forget the reward—this sounds fun. I think I’ll give it a shot.”

    “I have to go. More than an escort, I want to attend.”

    Some scoffed at the absurdity of it all, but they were in the minority.

    Among adventurers, there were almost none who hadn’t read The Chronicles of Zenon.

    The story had played a significant role in the surge of new adventurers, so it was practically a given.

    And since adventurers had all the free time in the world, The Chronicles of Zenon had naturally become a major part of their culture.

    “You gonna do it?”

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    Anne turned her head and asked Roy, who was stroking his chin with a serious expression.

    “I think I need to attend rather than just escort...”

    “......”

    “Whoever planned this sure thinks big. At this rate, even Zenon himself might acknowledge it.”

    Yet another tactical nuke was in the making.