The tavern hall buzzed with noise.
Leon stared at the golden-haired girl standing beside their table. She barely reached their eye level while they were seated. His mind filled with question marks.
Her demeanor was slightly different from what he'd imagined, but even from his limited memories, he recognized Orario's most famous rising star. That face, exquisite as a porcelain doll's and equally expressionless, combined with her unmistakable features and that singular air of cold detachment, made her impossible to forget.
Besides, they'd seen her portrait pinned to the Guild notice board just hours ago.
"You're the Sword Princess from the Loki Familia?"
"Mm."
"Ais Wallenstein?"
"Mm."
"..."
Well. This conversation's going nowhere.
Leon's mouth twitched. He wisely redirected his attention to the elegant green figure approaching their table.
"I'm terribly sorry. I took my eyes off Ais for one moment and she slipped away. I hope she hasn't caused you trouble." The green-haired elf woman offered a slight bow, her voice gentle but carrying an undercurrent of genuine apology.
As she spoke, she placed a hand on top of Ais's head and gently but firmly pressed it down into a bow.
Stunning beauty, effortless grace, commanding presence, impeccable manners. These qualities existed in perfect harmony within this single elven woman, as naturally as breathing.
And she was no ordinary elf. This was one of the Loki Familia's triumvirate, their vice-captain and financial overseer, a runaway princess of elven royalty. She was the figure whom countless elves across the world revered, Orario's greatest mage, Ais Wallenstein's surrogate mother, and a First-Class Adventurer at Level 6. The woman her patron goddess had named Nine Hell: Riveria Ljos Alf.
Leon pulled Jeanne to her feet, waving his hands hastily.
"Ah, Lady Riveria, please, that's far too kind. It's nothing, really. This is a tavern, after all. People talk. And besides..." He glanced at Ais's blank face. "Everyone knows the Sword Princess is... well, a bit unique. So honestly, it's fine."
He could feel it. Every pair of eyes in the hall had locked onto them. Mama Mia behind the bar. The grey-haired waitress. Their gazes prickled against his skin like needles.
Damn it. The current Ais wasn't the refined Sword Princess she'd become in the future. Right now she was still the Sword Princess in her wild-child phase, deep in the rebellious years where everyone and everything got on her nerves. The way she operated, she'd hack apart a stray dog if it crossed her path in the Dungeon.
Leon knew with bone-deep certainty that getting tangled up with the current version of her meant infinite headaches down the road.
He and Jeanne were Level 1 nobodies. What business did small fry like them have getting dragged into the high-stakes games of these titans? He couldn't afford to be on their radar.
Across from him, Riveria was privately relieved that Ais hadn't sparked a bigger incident. At least this young man was reasonable.
"Thank you for your understanding. Ais, we're leaving." With that, Riveria took the expressionless girl by the hand and led her away.
Only when the surrounding stares finally drifted elsewhere did Leon let out a long, slow breath.
So that's Riveria and Ais in person. No wonder they're the most popular figures in the city. The second they show up, every eye in the room follows. The pressure is unreal.
"Leon, are you alright?" Jeanne squeezed his hand under the table, concern in her voice.
He shook his head lightly. He was fine.
"So that was the Loki Familia's Nine Hell? She's everything the rumors say. You can tell she's elven royalty. That presence is on another level." Jeanne murmured, still impressed.
"Tch." Leon clicked his tongue and dropped his voice. "Right now, I'd rather have zero connection to them. The Loki Familia's sworn enemy is Evilus, and their infamous Arachnia. Every move that Familia makes is being watched by spies in the shadows. We're lucky this happened inside the Hostess of Fertility and nowhere else."
The encounter had killed the mood. Leon had no appetite left for a leisurely evening.
They cleared every plate, drained the last of the cold wheat ale, settled the bill, and headed for the exit.
"Well, mission accomplished. We ate well, we drank well."
Leon patted his stomach with satisfaction and let out a contented belch.
He stood with Jeanne under the tavern's awning, squinting out at the summer rain. It came down in a fine, steady curtain, the kind that seemed to wash the noise and weariness right out of the air.
Everything smelled clean, green, alive. The soft white noise of rainfall was intoxicating.
"The Hostess of Fertility really lives up to its name. The food here is perfect for me. I'm so happy." Jeanne hooked her arm through his, face glowing with contentment.
Leon glanced sidelong at her. She'd eaten nearly as much as he had, yet her figure hadn't changed one bit. He shook his head.
Is that a talent too? I guess you need a good appetite to maintain a body like that.
"Let's go. Home."
He took the black umbrella offered by the waitress at the door, snapped it open with a practiced flick, and raised it over both their heads. "Thanks," he said politely.
Then he saw who'd handed it to him.
Syr.
Something in his chest tightened before he could stop it.
"Thank you so much for visiting our tavern. We look forward to seeing you again. Goodbye!" Syr wore a professionally sweet smile and dipped into a slight bow.
That smile... it stirred memories Leon would rather have left undisturbed.
"We'll be back. See you!"
"Bye, Syr!" Jeanne waved warmly, her farewell far gentler than his clipped goodbye.
Syr watched the two of them disappear into the rain under their shared umbrella, her smile fading by degrees until only a pensive expression remained.
"Another hollow facade. A soul with nothing remarkable about it. Less than ordinary, even."
...
Only after they'd put real distance between themselves and the Hostess of Fertility, well beyond anyone's line of sight, did a certain someone quietly exhale.
Leon glanced at Jeanne, who looked perfectly composed, and allowed himself a private thought:
The skill's effect is solid. Even Freya's gaze couldn't detect anything special about the two of them. No... about Jeanne, specifically.
As for himself, he had no illusions about his own soul's quality.
The realization brought a confident smile creeping back across his face. The corners of his mouth climbed higher, entirely of their own accord.
"That expression... makes me want to punch you." Rain spotted Jeanne's shoulder where the umbrella didn't quite cover her, and she frowned, having no idea what had gotten into him this time.
"Why do you think I deliberately came to the Hostess of Fertility, knowing full well what's hiding in there? I'm not an idiot." He shifted the umbrella further toward her side, making sure she stayed dry.
"There's more to this?" Jeanne wasn't naive. She'd read between the lines of those two short sentences.
Leon looked at her and let out a low, satisfied laugh.
"Back in the tavern, I told you about the waitresses and Mama Mia. But I never explained what was off about Syr, did I?"
Jeanne stayed silent, waiting.
"Your Revelation wasn't wrong. Syr is hiding something. Something massive."
He leaned close, his lips nearly brushing her ear, and whispered:
"Syr Flover's true identity is the goddess Freya herself. She works at the Hostess of Fertility under the name 'Syr' to experience life as a mortal girl."
"What?"
Jeanne's mouth fell open. Her eyes went round. For a long moment, the Saintess could only stare.
"Syr is the goddess Freya? One of the city's two great powers, the patron goddess of the Freya Familia, the Goddess of Beauty herself?"
"Shocking, right? Forget you and me. Even Evilus, who'd love nothing more than to see her dead, could scheme until their heads explode and never dream that a goddess they're hunting would skip the obvious move of hiding behind locked doors in Babel. Instead, she pulls the ultimate reverse play and gets a part-time job at a tavern. Absolute galaxy-brain move."
Leon couldn't help but grin.
Jeanne recovered from the shock, and when she thought it through, a laugh escaped her too.
"Isn't that what they call hiding in plain sight? But wait, you told me the gods agreed on rules. Using divine power is forbidden in the mortal world, right? So how is Freya..."
Leon's smile faded, his expression turning serious.
"My guess is it has something to do with one of her Familia members. The mortals of this world are full of surprises and unknowns. Who's to say there isn't some kind of transformation magic out there?"
"Magic?" Jeanne nodded as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Well, if it's magic, then that makes perfect sense."
"...?"
She didn't even blink. Just rolled with it. Leon stared at her for a second.
"Hang on. You're not even going to question that?"
"Question what?" Jeanne tilted her head. "Does magic need to make sense?"
"..."
Fair point. He used instant-cast fire magic on a daily basis. He probably wasn't the right person to be demanding logical rigor here.
"Why are you making that face? Isn't that just how magic works?" Jeanne looked genuinely baffled.
Leon snorted. All this time in this world and I'm still thinking like a modern guy. She's got me there.