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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Yuziro
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You, who listens to my words.
Have you ever heard the name of the blind swordsman, Iyerpol?
The great continent had seen a century of unprecedented peace and prosperity.
But as the old saying goes, after a long peace comes an equally long period of chaos.
Ominous signs of unrest were stealthily emerging throughout the land.
The appearance of beings that preyed on humans and the increasingly ferocious monster attacks deepened the worries on the faces of the continent’s people about the future.
The founding fathers of each nation strengthened their military forces and fortified their borders in response to the escalating tensions.
“With the current state of affairs, friction between humans is unnecessary. Now is the time to unite as one race!”
They say a hero appears when the winds of turmoil blow.
As the continent trembled under threat, talented individuals who had been quietly biding their time began to emerge from all corners of the land.
Some formed volunteer armies to fight against the monsters threatening humanity.
Some wandered, their honed swords in hand, searching for a lord who would recognize their worth.
Some gathered heroes together.
The names of these extraordinary individuals spread throughout the land through word of mouth.
And among the names carried by the wind, there was his.
Oh, Iyer! Iyerpol!
If asked to name the most skilled individuals representing Tillasden, nine out of ten people would mention one of these names.
The fruit vendor in the market would choose Wagner of the Greatsword.
The vagrants in the back alleys would choose Guinness, the craziest woman in town.
The blacksmiths who hammered away daily would choose Kundt, the master hammer-smith.
The horned beastmen would choose the Wolf Who Chases the Wind.
And the last skilled individual, excluding these four…
Was the blind swordsman, Iyerpol.
This is the story of Iyerpol, a supporting character, an adventurer and swordsman who shone, however faintly, among countless heroes.
Strong despite his eyes being covered with cloth, kind despite his strength, and selfless despite his kindness…
This is the story of the blind swordsman admired by the weak.
Oh, Iyer! Iyerpol!
Adventurer.
What is an adventurer?
A romantic profession in name and nature, climbing mountains, sailing the seas, and exploring eerie, uncharted caves.
They unearthed undiscovered ancient texts and revealed them to the world, found glittering gold and jewels, and lived a golden life.
Bards in squares and pubs recited their adventure logs daily, and young boys dreamed of and admired brave adventurers fighting dragons.
Retired adventurers were treated as heroes and lived out their remaining days in peace with the wealth they had accumulated.
…If you believe that’s the truth, you are quite the romantic.
Well, if ancient texts and gold and jewels were so easily found, adventurers would be highly regarded… but reality wasn’t so generous.
Instead of ancient texts, they found empty chests already looted by someone else, and instead of gold and jewels, they obtained monster hides or teeth, things that hardly mattered.
Far from exploring unknown worlds, they mainly settled in a base and operated from a single location.
Of course, there were exceptions, but most were like that…
The term “adventurer” referred to a profession that was a refined and improved version of the mercenary profession from decades ago.
Mercenaries, treated as thugs, swindlers, and odd-jobbers who would do anything for money, weren’t recognized as a legitimate profession… but even from a ditch, a dragon can rise.
There were skilled individuals who rallied these good-for-nothing mercenaries.
Centered around them, the mercenaries formed their own guilds, and their work gradually became systematized, slowly gaining recognition as a proper “profession.”
The nation wanted to incorporate these mercenaries and their guilds into its workforce, and so the mercenary guilds gained recognition from the founding fathers and nobles, finally being acknowledged as a legitimate profession.
To change their negative image, the mercenary profession was renamed…
And that was the beginning of the “adventurer” profession.
The metropolis of Tillasden.
In the heart of Tillasden, a prosperous city located in the northern country called “Kalak,” stood a rather large adventurer’s guild.
As a city where a lot of money changed hands, adventurers were drawn to the scent of coin.
The adventurer’s guild, a common sight in any city, was crowded with people.
There were clients going through the procedures to request quests, and adventurers gathered day and night in front of the quest board, seeking work from the posted requests.
“Next, I’ll help you here.”
One of the receptionists, who acted as the face of the guild, rang a bell at the reception desk.
Window number 5. Rigati, in charge of clients requesting quests, greeted the next client with a smile.
“I’m Rigati, in charge of clients at the Adventurer’s Guild. How can I help you today?”
“A quest, I’ve come to request a quest…!”
Wrinkled skin and slightly graying hair.
An elderly man, who looked quite advanced in age, leaned towards the counter with an urgent expression.
Six years of experience as a receptionist.
Rigati had developed the ability to discern, just from a client’s appearance and first impression, whether a quest was as easy as eating cold porridge or as difficult as feeding cold porridge to a dragon.
This elderly client was the latter.
But Rigati was a true professional.
She never revealed her inner thoughts and, still smiling, handed him a piece of paper.
“Could you please briefly explain the type of quest, the quest duration, and the payment? Please fill out this quest application form with details such as the deadline for applications and any preferred conditions.”
“Uh, umm…”
“Once you submit the quest application form through the guild, the formal process can take anywhere from three days to a week, so please keep that in mind.”
“A week?!”
To be precise, it took a week at most, and usually three or four days, but the old man, seemingly unaware of this, jumped up in surprise.
“That long won’t do! It’s urgent!”
“But if the formal procedures aren’t followed…”
“Receptionist miss, I’m the village chief of a small village about two days’ ride from Tillasden. I rode my horse without a single day’s rest, and it still took me two days to get here. If I wait a week and factor in the time to return to my village, it will take a whole ten days.”
I can’t waste that much time!
Rigati made a troubled expression at the outcry of the old man, who had identified himself as a village chief.
It seemed he was from a small village located on the outskirts of a territory near Tillasden.
If the village didn’t even have a name, it was probably quite small, with fewer than fifty households.
The reason Rigati was troubled was that the village chief himself had come.
A matter urgent enough to require a quest and for the village chief to ride for two days?
It certainly wouldn’t be a trivial request.
“A monster settlement was discovered not far from the village. I heard it’s not a large one, but our village doesn’t have many able-bodied men who can wield weapons, so we’ll suffer great losses. Please, I beg you…!”
Oh dear.
This wasn’t a matter of time.
“I’m truly sorry. For large-scale subjugations involving settlements, the Adventurer’s Guild doesn’t handle individual requests… The Adventurer’s Guild only undertakes large-scale subjugation requests that are officially commissioned by the nation or a lord.”
“I’ll pay!”
“It’s not about the money…”
Oh, this quest is a no-go.
Rigati quietly retrieved the paper she had offered.
However, Rigati wasn’t so heartless as to be indifferent to the old man’s feelings.
The village was surely precious to the village chief, and even if it was a small settlement, the monsters threatening it must have been a great worry to him.
But procedures and regulations were always like that.
There were things they could do and things they couldn’t.
Instead, Rigati offered an alternative.
“In such cases, wouldn’t it be better to request subjugation through the lord rather than the Adventurer’s Guild? The lord’s army of Tillasden is more reliable than any other.”
“Th-that’s a bit…”
Huh?
The old man averted his gaze unnaturally.
Before Rigati could question this, he quickly changed the subject.
“Is there really, truly no way…? The people of my village are in danger…”
“Even if you ask like that…”
Ah.
The face of a young man flashed through Rigati’s mind.
Someone rumored to be quite skilled who often took on quests from the vulnerable like this.
A relatively famous person in Tillasden…
Thinking this far, Rigati shook her head.
‘…Let it go.’
Handling such high-risk quests that didn’t even follow formal procedures was problematic in itself.
As a member of the Adventurer’s Guild, arranging an unauthorized quest for an adventurer was a betrayal of the mutual trust, completely disregarding the adventurer’s safety and guarantee.
And it was also incredibly rude.
She didn’t want to do such a thing to someone she had personal regard for.
“Well, I think this matter should be taken to the lord…”
Just as she was about to send the old man away…
“What’s the problem, Rigati?”
A man, who had approached the old man’s side unnoticed, leaned slightly against the counter and poked his head between the two.
Rigati was startled by the appearance of the person she had just been thinking about.
Inwardly, of course, not outwardly.
The man, his eyes covered with a black cloth, looked back and forth between the dejected old man and Rigati before placing a hand on the old man’s shoulder.
“If you don’t mind, please tell me your story.”
The young man’s lips formed the kindest of smiles.
The sun had set, and the day had grown dark.
Is it already the next day?
The old man tilted his glass with a gloomy expression, thinking this.
The pub, bustling with the evening crowd of adventurers, was lively, but the old man couldn’t join in the atmosphere.
“Sorry to keep you waiting!”
The one who approached the table where the old man was sitting with hurried steps was the receptionist he had been talking to earlier.
Her name was Rigati, wasn’t it?
Behind the pretty receptionist, he saw the young man again.
The one with the black cloth covering his eyes… who seemed to be an adventurer.
Only after the two arrived and ordered food for three did the conversation continue.
“So, to introduce this gentleman here, this is Mr. Iyerpol, an adventurer belonging to the Tillasden Adventurer’s Guild.”
Lightweight leather mail, thick greaves, and the scars etched into the iron-plated gauntlets testified to the young man’s experience as a seasoned adventurer.
The dagger at his waist, the composite bow on his back, and the sword leaning against the table also spoke volumes.
However, what bothered her was…
“Mr. Iyer, this is Mr. Andal, the village chief of a village a little ways from Tillasden.”
“A little ways, you say?”
“It’s a small village, so it doesn’t seem to have a name. The problem in that village is why Mr. Andal came to the Adventurer’s Guild.”
Rigati explained the situation to Iyer.
In the noisy pub, Iyer listened attentively to Rigati’s quiet explanation, occasionally nodding.
“But a large-scale subjugation like this…”
“Isn’t handled by the guild, right?”
“That’s right. Adventurers don’t get involved in regional or national issues unless there’s an order from the lord.”
“I understand the problem roughly.”
Hmm.
The young man, Iyer, let out a small sigh and scratched his chin with his index finger.
Ah, Iyer had realized it too.
That the matter they were discussing was a tricky one to handle.
Rigati felt awkward, as if she had dragged Iyer into this.
Seeing the somewhat uncomfortable atmosphere, Village Chief Andal leaned towards Iyer.
“I’ll compensate you sufficiently. I’ve brought all the savings the villagers pooled together. I’ll pay you all of this, so please, protect our village!”
“…Mr. Iyer, as a member of the Adventurer’s Guild, getting involved in this kind of matter is clearly against the rules.”
“That’s right.”
“The guild can’t handle this as an official request. Neither the client nor the adventurer will receive the guild’s protection. And if the higher-ups find out, you could be punished for accepting an unauthorized quest…”
She listed all the negative aspects, but for Rigati, explaining it objectively like this was the best she could do.
Indeed, accepting unauthorized quests came with various penalties.
While they were talking, the food for the three of them arrived.
Only the clinking of tableware against the plates placed on the table filled the silence between them.
Rigati had done her best, and Village Chief Andal had pleaded sufficiently.
All that remained was Iyer’s decision.
“I’ll do it.”
Iyer replied casually, as if talking about someone else’s business.
Village Chief Andal’s face brightened, as if his youth had been restored.
“Really?!”
“Yes. Would it be alright if I leave after two days of preparation?”
“Of course! Of course!”
Village Chief Andal nodded so vigorously that Rigati worried his head might snap off.
Even at the chief’s effusive thanks, Iyer simply responded with a smile.
Feeling a twinge of guilt for dragging an adventurer, who should be protected by the guild, into illegal activity, Rigati leaned in close to Iyer’s ear.
“Are you really sure about this?”
“I’ll give it a try.”
“I’m not asking about the possibility of success, but about taking on this kind of job.”
“You brought it to me, and you’re asking me that?”
That’s true, but…
Rigati thought so too.
“You’re the one taking the risk by arranging this for me.”
“…”
“I’ll quietly take care of it and be back soon.”
Rigati thought he would have winked if he could see.
As she thought, “He’s just like Iyer,” she smiled.
The Iyer she had known for the past few years readily accepted underpaid requests or those other adventurers would avoid.
Among the self-serving adventurers, Iyer was altruistic and kind.
Perhaps that was why she felt a personal fondness and respect for him.
“By the way, Mr. Iyer, may I ask you something?”
“You can ask two things, Village Chief.”
“Why… why does an adventurer wear a cloth over his eyes?”
Ah, this.
Pointing to the cloth covering his eyes, Iyer smiled gently.
“I can’t see.”
“…Eh?”
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