…

  Momonga had dressed up for the occasion. She had changed her appearance to that of Calvaria, the Adamantite ranked adventurer. Her hair had been dyed bck for this, with it hanging down as a braid. Her face was beautiful, yet had scars across it. The author forgets where or what these scars look like, so forgive him.

  As she and Sebas walked down the street, they gathered eyes on them. The sun was high in the sky, the air was rather crisp. All in all, it was a good day. Calvaria was wearing a rather suitable three piece suit with a greatcoat over it.

  Sure, it would be hot for anyone else, yet she was fine of course. The dark grey coat masked her figure perfectly, and made her look like a woman who simply enjoyed her modesty, while not being to fshy. Of course, the simple fact that this pce didn’t have greatcoats was of no consequence to her. at least, not before she felt the gazes of so many people on her.

  As the two of them walked down the street, Sebas in front of her in case of any muggings or other such things, they spotted a ruckus ter down the street. The streets themselves were dirty things, with animal feces and some human feces mixed into the dirt of the road. It was rather unclean, yet the smell of the road itself washed away the true stink of fecal matter itself.

  The buildings that lined these roads were either stone or wooden structures, often times with simple doors that had too many locks. This was a rather bad part of the city itself. Crime was rampant. Calvaria didn’t know that, though. All she saw was a dirty city.

  As she looked in front of herself and Sebas, she spotted the crowd. Her sight was much better than the common man, so as she peered into the crowded area of the road, she saw what many in the back of it failed to see. It was an old drunk man kicking a small boy. The sight reminded her of home, of Japan.

  She scowled at the sight. It was one thing to have shit in your roads, you can’t avoid it if you use horses for the most part. She at least knew that. It was another thing to see such a pitiful sight in the middle of the capital city of the country one was in.

  She tutted under her breath as her emotional suppression kicked in. Her anger simmered down into a slight contempt. She was rather tired of finding this sort of thing. Sure, it seemed like an inevitability for things of this nature to happen, yet E-Rantel was rather clean.

  Of course, it was still dirty, but it was cleaner than this. Even on a bad day it was cleaner than this. She looked over to see Sebas clenching his fist. The butler was created by her good friend Touch Me had made him. It stood to no one’s wonder that his creation had inherited some of his tendencies.

  She looked again to the crowd and back to the dragonoid. She could tell that he wanted to intervene. That was fine, actually, after she thought about it. She hadn’t any real idea on what she wanted to do for the rest of the day.

  After she had come outside, she had just decided to have Tuare tag along after Sebas. It was a rather quick decision. Yet she felt it was the right one. After all, she saw how the young dy looked at her knight in shining armor.

  “Sebas,” she spoke, her voice clear and uniform, and her turned to her with a professional look on his face, “go and help the child, I’ll wait here and see what happens,” she told him, and he nodded.

  …

  Climb had just exited the adventurers’ guild, and was pondering what he had been told. He had been told, by Gagaran and Evil Eye themselves that he had no talent. He had no way to truly get stronger. Sure, he had his gear and experience. Yet, he had no true way of obtaining more power.

  It was a rather distressing thing for him to realize. After all, it would take forever to actually gain any power through simple training. Even then, it was only going to be a little bity more strength. All in all, he was saddened by this.

  Yet, he didn’t let that stop him. He could let that stop him from aiding his charge, the princess Renner. She trusted only him to do the job of guarding her. He could become weak, he couldn’t let himself fall into despair, all for her.

  Climb walked down the street, thinking of different ways that he could better guard his charge. It was tricky, there was only a couple of things a single person of his skill could do. In fact, he feared that he might not even be able to defend her from any true threat.

  His mind was ripped away from its crevices by some jeering. He paused mid step, the noon sun beating down onto the top of his head as he looked on. At what? It was a crowd. Through the throng of people, he spotted a drunken man kicking a downed child. Two other men hovered over and around him. They themselves also seemed to be drunk.

  Climb widened his eyes as he looked on. His feet took him there to the crowd before his mind caught up. The people that he pushed past looked at him with slight scorn, before they saw the sword at his hip and backed off slightly.

  He ducked and weaved through them. His feet getting caught up in theirs a couple of times, before he finally saw him. a man of old age, his back ramrod straight as he made his way through the crowd as if parting a sea. His hands at his sides, yet they were clenched. As if he was ready to sp anyone out of the way.

  Climb was mesmerized by the way that he walked. He was fast as well. It was as if he was running through them, but he simply was walking.

  Eventually, the man made his way to the center of the group. There, Climb heard speaking, and then looked up just in time to see the older gentleman sp the younger drunk man across the face. He flew back, the drunk that is, and nded on his reared end with a loud crack resounding across the area.

  It was so fast, the strike, that Climb barely saw it. Even then, he only saw an after image of the blow. Though, by the way that the gentleman held his hand up, he rightfully assumed that the blow was a sp. Climb winced as he watched the drunken fool try and fail to stand up.

  Climb then started to walk forward into the center of the parting crowd as the old man kneeled next to the boy. He pulled a purple bottle of some potion from his coat pocket, and fed the boy it. He cradled his head in his arm as he drank.

  The wounds of the boy then faded and his face turned to one of wonder as he opened his half squinted eyes all the way. The man spoke, his voice gentle. It was shockingly so.

  “There you go d. Good as new,” he said, his tone serious and light at once.

  Climb looked on, shocked at the quickness of the potion’s effects. He hadn’t expected the potion to be so effective. Climb soon made it to the center where the old man was. There, he stood up straight after patting the dusty from his knees.

  Yet, as he looked up after looking down at what he was doing, he saw that the old man was gone. The boy also seemed confused. They both of them looked around for him, before turning to each other.

  “Did you see where he went?” Climb asked, hoping that he at least had a clue.

  “No Mr., I didn’t see where he went. If you find him, can you thank him?” the boy asked, and Climb nodded his head.

  The crowd had been swept away by the throng of people by now. Yet, even with the improved visibility, he failed to see him. Though, his eyes did catch the striding legs of a woman walking behind the back of a man. Said back seemed awfully simir to the mystery man’s back.

  He followed after the two, hoping that this was him. The two of them simply walked quicker. Yet, it still wasn’t the pace that the gentleman had sped around before.

  Was the woman his charge, and she was simply not as fast? That was probably it. After all, such skill and speed didn’t grow on trees. In fact, he was slightly shocked that he hadn’t heard of a man that looked like this man before.

  …