Farewell to the hero! chapter 14

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“…”

I almost retorted, “You’re the one who said it out loud,” but held back.

It wasn’t likes he was wrong.

My lips parted slightly, drawing in the air as it entered and left in short breaths.

By the way, was she calling me a “kid”?

I debated how to respond, but a sudden question surfaced in my mind.

I distinctly remembered Ruen calling me “kid” just a moment ago, a term usually reserved for young children, which confused me.

I was shorter than them, sure—even shorter than Sehir by about a fingertip.

But that didn’t mean I was so small that I should be treated like a child.

The members of Kaindel’s group just happened to be exceptionally tall.

Still, Ruen had always been rude.

He treated people like objects, and now he was condescending enough to treat me like a child.

The more I thought about Ruen’s behavior, the more my brows furrowed.

Does he hate me that much?

It felt like I was staring down a growling dog that would snarl at the mere sight of me.

Meanwhile, Kaindel’s green eyes were fixed on me.

His calm gaze didn’t hold either curiosity or displeasure, but the way it settled on me was unsettling.

I felt embarrassed.

It wasn’t enough to leave a good impression—I kept showing Kaindel my worst side, and it was mortifying.

“If I’ve offended you, I apologize. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. It just… caught my attention.”

“You have something to be concerned about…”

“But I’m not a kid.”

I interrupted Ruen’s scoff with calm resolve.

Though I wasn’t exactly sure when my birthday was, I had completed my coming-of-age ceremony last year, marking my nineteenth birthday.

I bit down hard on my lower lip.

“I’m not a child.”

Anyway, I’d be turning twenty this year.

No one could rightfully treat me like a kid at my age.

I shot a meaningful look at Ruen, expecting an apology, but instead, he burst out laughing.

Ruen rubbed his face in confusion, glancing between me, Kaindel, and Sehir.

“You’re saying you’re an adult?”

“Yes.”

“You mean, you’re actually an adult?”

“Yes.”

I nodded in response to Ruen’s disbelieving question.

Owen, beside him, looked equally astonished, as if needing to verify it for himself.

Even Daniel, who had been on the verge of sleep, seemed to have his senses sharpened by this new information.

All eyes turned toward me, filled with curiosity as they assessed me from head to toe.

Feeling self-conscious, I shrank back, fiddling with my fingers.

I should have just stayed quiet.

I should’ve pretended not to know anything.

Regret flooded me.

After a long moment, Ruen scratched his reddening neck.

“You don’t look like someone who’s even capable of surviving the night.”

“Ruen, stop…”

Sehir, who had been quietly observing, finally stepped in to rein in Ruen’s grumbling.

“I apologize for my companion’s rudeness.”

A solemn apology interrupted them.

I turned toward the voice.

Kaindel had risen from his seat, adjusting his shirt.

He straightened his outfit, met my eyes, and lowered his hand.

“I will make sure nothing like this happens again.”

There was no need for Kaindel to apologize.

Nor was it something he needed to prevent in the future.

But it seemed like he was taking responsibility on behalf of his group.

I pressed my hands against my apron, trying to avoid scratching my itchy ears, and bowed my head, hiding my emotions for a moment before looking up again.

Since meeting Kaindel, I hadn’t had a proper conversation with him, not once.

It wasn’t that I hadn’t tried to create an opportunity.

I would hang back and observe, then rush in to replace a fallen fork if Ruen or Daniel dropped one.

When Kaindel’s cup was empty, I’d pour him more tea, and I’d even discreetly warn Alice to prepare meals free of shellfish for Sehir’s allergy.

Sehir would sometimes thank me for my efforts.

But Kaindel only ever responded with a faint smile.

His gentle expression brought me some joy, but his silence left me feeling a little hurt.

I wasn’t sure what more I wanted from him, but something felt missing.

So even though this conversation started off unpleasantly, it was enough to release the pent-up frustration I’d been feeling.

Like someone dying of thirst who finally found an oasis, I found myself clinging to it.

I didn’t want to let go of this moment, even if it was fueled by such a trivial desire.

While I was pondering how to respond to him to keep the conversation going, Kaindel suddenly shifted the topic.

“By the way, you seem to know a lot about Mother.”

His fingers, which had been lightly tapping the map, came to rest on its surface.

Then, after tracing a smooth path across the map, his hand fell away as Kaindel moved and perched on the back of a nearby chair.

He briefly closed his eyes and then opened them again, crossing his long legs.

“Do you know about other monsters besides Mother?”

“Ah.”

I let out a short sigh.

“Yes.”

I did know.

“You mean you know about the Seriel Lake too?”

“Yes, Seriel Lake is home to a monster that governs this area. The monster is the lake itself, so it’s not something you can really fight…”

Suddenly, my throat constricted.

The part Ruen had once pointed out came back to prick at me.

Again, it was something I had heard secondhand.

It wasn’t something I had personally experienced or discovered. I was just repeating information I had picked up.

As I realized this, my voice began to shrink.

“But, well, it’s just what I heard from other guests.”

It was strange.

The certainty that had filled me earlier was now fading in front of Kaindel.

It only happened when I was in front of him.

“As he said, it’s not exactly reliable information.”

Even though I shared what I knew, it didn’t seem to help.

A cold sweat drenched my back, and it felt like my feet were rooted to the ground.

“I think it’s best if you take this information with a grain of salt.”

Perhaps it was because Kaindel’s gaze toward me was too calm.

It reminded me of the eerie stillness just before a violent storm strikes.

Whenever I laid out the information I knew, Owen would show an odd enthusiasm for learning, and Ruen would be openly distrustful.

But Kaindel remained quiet.

So quiet that it only made me dwell on Ruen’s words, which made me doubt myself.

Kaindel made me feel that way.

He made me shrink. I felt so small in front of him.

It wasn’t until everything shrank to the size of a pea that Kaindel finally broke the gloomy atmosphere.

“What’s your name?”

It was an unexpected question.

I didn’t think he’d be curious about my name in this moment.

I assumed he’d be too busy evaluating the usefulness of the information I had shared.

Just as I felt myself falling, he caught me firmly.

The crushing sensation lifted, and my stomach flipped in a wide arc.

“…Isa.”

My full name is Isaac Winter, but I prefer the nickname Isa. Captivated by his green eyes, I added that last bit without thinking.

“Isa.”

Kaindel seemed to savor my name.

Isa.

The soft repetition of the syllables filled me with both joy and melancholy.

I felt myself growing larger and smaller in turns.

My heart, struck by lightning, trembled in my chest. Kaindel was the one holding and shaking it.

Whether he knew about my state or not, Kaindel shook his lovely blonde hair and extended a hand even more beautiful than his hair.

“Let’s work well together in the future.”

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Fortunately, Kaindel seemed to have judged that the information I provided had value.

Since a few days ago—since the day I could barely remember what I had said to him—Kaindel started coming to the restaurant alone from time to time.

Not to eat, but to discuss the impending catastrophe with me.

Perhaps he had noticed that I felt uncomfortable around Ruen, because he always came by himself.

Once or twice, he would show up during my working hours and wait, so I carefully informed him of my break times.

After that, instead of waiting around, he began to visit during my breaks.

For the brief 30 minutes we had, Kaindel would fire off one question after another, and I would answer to the best of my ability.

Even with the occasional sparse answer, he maintained a satisfied look, like a well-fed predator.

Today was no different.

“Do you know what that red fruit looks like?”

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