Raising the Princess to Overcome Death-Chapter 279: Engagement - Connecting Links
278. Engagement - Connecting Links
“We'll find out if we ask the Saintess.”
Arpen arrogantly summed up the situation with that single statement. Ray, who had been discussing the oracle again, felt defeated.
Why do I feel like I’m the one losing here?
But what Arpen said next went beyond mere frustration; it made Ray slightly angry.
“If you had suggested contacting the Saintess from the beginning, it would have been faster… Tsk, tsk. Oh? Look at the time. Noel, get up. How long are you planning to sleep?”
“...Hm? Ah... Is it over?”
“Yes. You haven’t changed a bit. I’ll get in touch with the Saintess. For now, you’ll start working at the knight order from tomorrow. Whether the oracle is right or wrong, there’s no change in your reinstatement. I’ll also inform His Highness.”
“...Baron. You can inform His Highness, but if this reaches the King’s ears, it could be problematic...”
Arpen cut him off with an irritated wave of his hand.
“Oh, young man, you worry too muChapter And you talk too much... I’ll handle it, so don’t worry.”
...Grit. A vein popped in Ray’s jaw. What kind of person is this? He wanted to snap back but held his tongue.
“Yes. Well, I’m counting on you. Do check and contact me.”
“Yes, yes. Instead of wasting time, I’d better head to the church now. Steward! Prepare the carriage. Ah! Make it two!”
Arpen got into the carriage and left.
Ray and Noel rode in the carriage Arpen had lent them and returned to the Dexter mansion. Ray muttered under his breath.
“Father, can we really trust that man?”
Noel softly responded, understanding his son’s doubts.
“Everyone thinks that when they first meet Senior Arpen. But don’t worry. He’s not one to act recklessly. Besides, everything went according to plan, didn’t it?”
“Well, yes...”
Ray hadn’t expected Arpen Albacete to help, and his last card had been the Saintess. Contacting the Saintess through the church was difficult, even for nobles; it could take months to receive a reply. But he believed that a question from one of the three Swordmasters on the continent would get a quicker response.
They also needed to borrow the power of the Barnaul Church to face Malpas, so everything turned out well in the end. It all worked out, but...
Sigh.
Ray let out a sigh to release his frustration. I’m the one who’s missing out here. This is no time to be picky. He leaned his chin against the carriage window frame and began planning his next steps. Just then,
“You seem to remember Jensen.”
His father quietly asked. Ray simply turned his head without answering.
Noel continued.
“Jensen doesn’t know anything. He still believes Ibera is alive. To be honest, I was worried about how to deal with him if we met today. It seemed like you knew, which made it even more concerning.”
This hadn’t been Ray’s original plan. Before persuading Arpen, he had intended to find Jensen Byley, the Second Knight Commander, and ‘request’ him to contact the Saintess.
Jensen was Saintess Meriel’s younger brother.
But Ray had forgotten that Jensen wasn’t in the capital. He was at the border preparing for war, so Ray had turned back in front of Jensen’s mansion and, at Noel’s suggestion, sought out Arpen instead.
Jensen. Jensen Byley.
There was a past that needed to be addressed, a history that Ray had to settle. The blood-soaked image of the knight was vivid in Ray’s regained memories.
Ray clenched his teeth, then relaxed them—for his father’s sake, not his own.
“...It’s all in the past.”
“Yes, it’s all in the past. Now that you’ve steadied your heart, I’ll say this: your mother’s death wasn’t solely Jensen’s fault. I, too... share some blame.”
The father and son said no more.
In silence, the carriage moved forward. They soon arrived at the mansion, but the heavy silence between them remained unbroken. Creak—until the iron hinges opened, revealing yet another link between them.
“Welcome back.”
Rera Ainar wiped her sweat-drenched forehead as she greeted them. Noel recalled his late wife through her, and Ray smiled. New sprouts were emerging from the frozen ground of winter.
*
Huff—The scent of sweat filled the air above the square table. Hot sweat dripped, and muscles bulged as if ready to burst. Huff! Hah! Struggling to topple his opponent, the place was an inn in Barnaul.
The inn’s first floor was a tavern with a long L-shaped wooden table, bustling with people. Crooked teeth, strawberry noses, cross-eyed gazes... A motley crowd cheered as the winner and loser embraced each other.
“Hahaha! That was a great matChapter You’re incredible.”
“Hahaha! I’ve never lost in strength to anyone before. You’re like a monster. Dehor, wasn’t it? From the Ainar tribe.”
“That’s right! And you are Baral Aviker, correct? Hahaha, have a drink! May the blessings of Lachar be with you!”
The warrior named Baral shouted, “May the great raven’s grace be upon you!” before making way. After gulping down his drink, Dehor spoke boldly.
“Next! Anyone else willing to challenge Dehor Ainar? If not, I’ll be disappointed, haha!”
“I’m here! I am Kali Toluca of the Toluca tribe!”
The next challenger appeared quickly.
Though smaller in stature compared to Dehor, the man looked tenacious. The two warriors shook hands, sat at the table without releasing their grip, and began arm-wrestling. The warriors around them burst into laughter, predicting the outcome.
Even though it was midday, the place was crowded.
For an inn that also sold food and drinks, it was natural for it to be packed in the evenings and empty during the day. But many inns in Barnaul were like this right now.
Warriors from across the Aslan Kingdom had arrived in the capital early to participate in the Maunin Tournament, which would take place in early summer.
Though the festival honoring the founding king of Aslan, Maunin, was still far off, it wasn’t organized by the royal family or any official group; it was spontaneously hosted by the northern citizens, drawing many to enjoy the preparations in advance.
So by now, the committee should have been formed, and various people should have started gathering for the festival preparations, but the atmosphere wasn’t quite there yet.
Rumors were rampant that war would be declared against the Kingdom of Bellita.
The royal family had already issued a conscription order.
Barnaul, the Direct Territory of the Klaus Royal Family, Where Conscription Has Begun
Conscription had started in Barnaul, the direct territory of the Klaus royal family, and soon soldiers would be mobilized from all over the kingdom, so any talk of the festival had vanished. The warriors who had come all this way, expecting the Maunin Tournament, found themselves in an awkward position, keeping a close eye on the situation.
Should they head back now, or should they join the war since they were already here? As each warrior mulled over their thoughts, a hulking warrior who introduced himself as Dehor Ainar appeared and boasted:
“Is there anyone in the world stronger than me? No, there isn’t! Wahahahahaha!”
He roamed from inn to inn, showing off his strength.
A warrior who hears such boasts and does not challenge them is no true warrior. The bored warriors flocked to him like bees, and as Dehor’s record of 107 wins, 3 draws, and 0 losses continued to grow, even the most reluctant of the great warriors were drawn in by the rumors.
The innkeeper, where Dehor frequently visited, was all smiles. For him, drinks and food were on the house.
Some other innkeepers even declared they would offer a small prize to any warrior who could defeat Dehor, so the innkeeper volunteered to be the referee. Of course, he was a referee who supported Dehor in every possible way.
“109 wins, 3 draws, 0 losses! That’s enough, enough! Let’s call it a day. Why don’t you rest a bit? It’s mealtime now, so enjoy your meals. Today’s special dish is ready!”
Puhat! The warriors burst into laughter at the obvious sales pitch.
However, there was another reason why the warriors laughed.
“‘Today’s’ special dish, you say? I’ve been coming here for a week, and all I’ve gotten is ‘Hunter’s Stew’!”
“It’s more like ‘Perpetual Stew’! So, it’s not exactly wrong to call it today’s special. Hahaha!”
Despite their complaints, the warriors still accepted the thick stew the innkeeper served. A type of pottage—a soup or stew made by simmering vegetables, grains, and whatever meat or fish was available—the dish was known by many names: Hunter’s Stew, Perpetual Stew, Endless Stew, all due to its unique preparation method.
Typically called Hunter’s Stew, the unique aspect of this dish was...
“Hmm. Looks like spring is finally here. There’s more than just radimu in it this time.”
“There’s even some wild greens in mine.”
...anything edible could be added. Any ingredient fit for consumption was tossed into the pot and simmered, with leftovers being reheated and replenished with more ingredients again and again.
Hence, the perpetual, endless stew.
It never ran dry.
Surprisingly, it tasted good. The constantly evolving mix of ingredients created a rich and deep umami flavor that the innkeeper took great pride in.
“It’s delicious because it’s been cooking since the Nine-Day War. My father made it, my grandmother made it, and my great-grandfather made it. Oh, don’t worry—we clean the pot sometimes. Hahaha! Your faces were priceless just now. Oh? Welcome!”
For a brief moment, the inn fell silent as a young man entered. He looked hesitant as he approached Dehor, who was sitting beside a bowl of stew big enough to lose his appetite.
“How’s it going?”
“...Yeah. Have you eaten?”
“Yes, I had something with Rera before coming.”
It was Ray Dexter. Dehor, who had been about to share his portion, made a reluctant face and resumed eating.
One mustn’t wear a gloomy face in front of food, lest they be struck down.
Ray lowered his voice and asked.
“But will the warriors really help us if you do this?”
“Of course. It’s natural. While helping is their choice... Gulp, you wouldn’t know since you’re not a native, but once you make even the slightest connection, we’re like brothers. Just wait and see. I’ll bring every warrior here with me. I can’t hog all the trials to myself.”
......What’s so great about that? Ray couldn’t understand the ways of these barbarian warriors, but he didn’t bother to argue.
His father, Noel Dexter, was busy working at the knight order, Rera was immersed in her training, and Dehor was mingling with the barbarian warriors. Meanwhile, Ray found himself without much to do.
While waiting for Arpen Albacete to respond (or, more precisely, to receive a reply from the Saintess), he thought of something and decided to step out. This inn was just a quick stop on his way.
Ran and Anne.
It was time to find those sisters who had been released from their shackles. Things had changed because of them.
Baron Arpen Albacete had not appeared on the battlefield in the previous loop.
In fact, he might not have participated in any battles for quite some time. Ray met Ran and Anne Aviker, native warrior women in their late twenties, during the 14th loop. If they had influenced Arpen, it would have continued throughout.
‘I’ originally thought that Arpen’s absence from the battlefield during the engagement loop had nothing to do with those women. After all, a Swordmaster isn’t just anyone’s name. I had assumed the influence stemmed from the loop involving the beggar siblings.
However, after experiencing the last loop, I returned to my initial thoughts.
While the beggar siblings’ loop might have influenced him, Arpen’s absence from the battlefield should have been something inherent to the engagement loop itself. That left only the sisters as the likely cause.
Naturally, I already asked Arpen about it. I asked if he knew of the native warrior women in their late twenties named Ran and Anne Aviker.
Arpen answered that he didn’t know them, even cheekily asking if I was planning to introduce them to him—until he was disappointed to learn that they were already married with children.
Just as expected, there was no direct connection.
However, thanks to the chaos of the loop where Astroth descended, and Malpas appeared with his iron wings, I discovered something new. Now that I understood the reason behind a Swordmaster’s existence, I had a faint idea of what that connection might be.
Ray bid farewell to Dehor, who was almost like a father-in-law to him, saying, “Then don’t overdo it,” and left the inn. Following the path indicated by his {Tracking Skills}, he made his way to the marketplace located south of Barnaul’s inner city.
Because {Tracking Skills} only provided directions in a straight line, Ray got a bit lost navigating the market, with stalls lining the ground and alleyways branching off in all directions. Eventually, he felt a chill run down his spine.
This is the place.
A red, octagonal pattern drawn in divine power. The unmistakable traces of Malpas were covering the alley ahead.
That alley led deep into the market, into a street where craftsmen worked. As Ray cautiously stepped forward, he could hear the faint sound of children’s songs.
Chapter 279: Engagement - Connecting Links
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