* * *

Kaindel departed to vanquish the Great Calamity in the early summer of the year following his coming-of-age ceremony.

Gathering companions for the journey turned out to be easier than expected.

From Sehir, a childhood acquaintance, to Owen, Luen, and Daniel—they willingly joined him, drawn by the title of Hero without much effort on his part.

Of course, those four weren’t the only ones who sought him out after hearing he had left the capital to face the Great Calamity.

Among them were a grand mage from the Magic Tower, a golden-ranked mercenary, and a spirit mage.

But once he narrowed the candidates down to those who had useful abilities and wouldn’t be a burden on the road, only four remained.

With his chosen companions, Kaindel avoided heading straight to the Gayat Mountain Range.

Instead, they traveled through regions known for frequent monster appearances, honing their combat skills.

In the capital, there had been little need for life-or-death battles, so this was a necessary test for both himself and his allies.

The journey began in the northern regions of the kingdom and continued steadily toward the Gayat Mountains in the southwest.

They passed through every area where monsters were reported to appear.

Along the way, Kaindel witnessed sights unimaginable in the capital—orphans who had lost their families to monsters, and villagers who hailed him as a hero after a monster’s death.

In the capital, such tragedies and hero worship were almost unheard of; even beggars there had roofs over their heads.

What stood out most on the journey, however, was the stark difference in how people regarded a Hero.

Within the capital, he was seen simply as someone favored by the gods.

Outside, among commoners, he was revered as a savior.

Not quite on par with the gods, but certainly a figure of sacred importance.

As Kaindel and his group neared the Gayat Mountains, infamous as the nest of the Great Calamity, summer gave way to autumn.

The once-green leaves turned crimson, and by the time those crimson leaves fell, Kaindel arrived at the village of Luther.

“This is Luther Village?”

“That’s right. Over there, that green-roofed building is the village hall, and the inn we’ll stay at is the one behind it.”

Glancing briefly at the village entrance, Kaindel tucked the map back into his coat.

He gave a half-hearted nod to Sehir, who was explaining further details.

Luther was well-known even in the capital.

It was the last village on the path to the nest of the Great Calamity.

Perhaps that was why, as they arrived, Kaindel felt the accumulated mental and physical fatigue hit him all at once.

First, I’ll write a reply to send to the capital…

Organizing his thoughts, Kaindel slowly ran a hand down his face.

Just days ago, a messenger bird had arrived from his family.

Though he hadn’t yet read the letter it carried, he figured he should at least send a reply confirming its receipt. His plan was to do so immediately upon reaching Luther.

But now that he was here, he felt like abandoning all that and simply collapsing into bed to recover.

Fighting a horde of low-level monsters overnight two days ago had left him struggling to maintain his composure.

“Is there a dining hall?”

“The inn we’ll be staying at has one.”

“Good.”

Relieved to hear that he wouldn’t have to wander far for food, Kaindel looked at the others who were waiting nearby.

“First, let’s stop by the village hall. I have some business there. Then we’ll head to the inn.”

“Alright.”

“Understood.”

“Is it urgent?”

“Yes.”

“Well, if it’s urgent…”

Unlike Owen and Daniel, who readily agreed, Ruen questioned him in his brusque manner before nodding reluctantly.

He, too, showed signs of exhaustion from the journey.

Understandable, since Ruen had fought the hardest in their recent battle against the monster horde.

Kaindel planned to leave the letter at the village hall and head straight to the inn.

Knowing his father’s temperament, he’d be bombarded with inquiries if he didn’t reply promptly.

Sending a letter was a quick task, or so he thought.

But when he reached the village hall, an unexpected message awaited him.

“A letter arrived for Lord Kaindel Rayford Schudelgarten.”

The man managing correspondence at the hall shared the news, and Kaindel couldn’t hide his surprise.

Since leaving the capital, he’d sent his share of letters but rarely received any in return.

“…Who’s the sender?”

“It’s marked as coming from the Schudelgarten Ducal House in the capital.”

A letter from his family.

For some reason, a sense of foreboding crept over him.

Even though he was his father, they had only exchanged brief inquiries about each other’s well-being since he left the capital.

His father had never reached out as frequently as this.

Even on the rare occasions he had sent messages, they could hardly have reached Kaindel without knowing his exact whereabouts.

Yet, it seemed as though this letter had been timed to wait for Kaindel’s arrival in Luther.

It was suspicious.

Kaindel pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek to dispel his unease, then pulled out the carrier pigeon’s note he had tucked into his coat.

A sense of foreboding told him the answer lay within the neglected scrap of paper.

If he had known things would unfold like this, he would have read it earlier—a mistake on his part.

“……”

Huh?

Kaindel’s face remained expressionless as he read the note, but his eyebrows quickly drew together.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing and reread the same sentence over and over.

His lips, as if forgetting how to form words, remained tightly shut, no breath escaping.

[His Grace is gravely ill.]

The note contained only that short sentence.

No further explanation, just the bare, stark fact that his father’s condition was critical.

Even so, the weight of those words was immense.

His father was gravely ill.

That man?

Recalling his father, who had been the picture of robust health when Kaindel had left, he couldn’t stifle a bitter laugh.

The idea that his father could be sick was almost absurd.

Unless, of course, the sickness stemmed from the sheer greed that couldn’t be contained within his body.

Kaindel’s sudden rigidity drew the attention of Sehir, who approached him with concern.

Upon seeing the words on the note, Sehir swallowed dryly.

The news that one of the kingdom’s four dukes was gravely ill wasn’t just a matter of life and death; it was a revelation that could shake the political and economic foundations of the realm.

As the faint sound of Sehir’s throat bobbing brought him back to reality, Kaindel irritably ran his fingers through his hair.

“Sehir.”

“Yes?”

“Head to the inn first. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Got it.”

Sehir, who had also read the note, accepted Kaindel’s decision without protest.

Perhaps he instinctively realized that this development would only increase the matters Kaindel needed to address at the village hall.

After Sehir and the others left for the inn, Kaindel stood still until their voices faded into the distance.

Only then did he crumple the note in his hand, frustration bubbling to the surface.

“…Damn it.”

Whatever the circumstances might be, one thing was clear—this was going to be a bothersome affair.

---

The letter that had arrived for him contained the same message as the note: his father was gravely ill.

It also urged him to return to the capital if possible.

Kaindel, however, ignored that part.

Having come all the way to Luther, returning to the capital just because his father was sick would have been foolish.

Considering his father’s nature, he would probably send a will to Kaindel on his own before dying.

There was no need to make a pointless trip to the capital.

“Here it is.”

After leaving a letter for his father at the village hall, Kaindel headed to the Alice Inn, where Sehir and the others were staying.

It was such a small village that it didn’t take long to find it.

Kaindel entered the inn’s dining hall, his robe’s hood pulled low to cover his face.

Near the entrance, his companions were gathered, seemingly reluctant to sit down even though it had been some time since they’d left the village hall.

“Sehir, where are the seats?”

“You’re already here, Kaindel. I thought you’d take longer.”

“It was just a letter. Nothing else to handle.”

“A letter?”

At the mention of a letter, Sehir, who had been speaking with a staff member, turned to Kaindel, his eyes glinting with curiosity.

It seemed he had momentarily forgotten the staff member’s presence.

“Does this mean something really happened to His Grace? Or is it his health? Could it possibly have improved?”

“‘Improved,’” he must mean the carrier pigeon’s note.

That note had clearly stated that his father was gravely ill.

As Kaindel opened his mouth to dismiss Sehir’s speculation, he noticed the staff member standing before them and paused.

* * *