The Fat Aristocrat Waltz in the Labyrinth - Chapter 32
Chapter 32: The fat aristocrat worries about the elf hunter
They headed straight to the attached dining room.
Perhaps due to having time until the evening, the dining room was completely empty. Despite this, they chose a corner table out of sight of any prying eyes and sat down.
Grace usually takes charge, but this time Mitrof took on the role.
“You both made it back safely today—Canule must have had a hard time.”
“No, I hope I’m not slowing you down…”
“Not at all—thanks to Canule, we made great progress—the food was also fantastic.”
It was his honest opinion. Canule’s meals and tea during their break time, in addition to her duties as a porter, made their rest time more fulfilling. Resting well is important.
“Thanks to Canule’s hard work, we also had a good harvest—let’s split this into thirds.”
So Mitrof placed the money he had just received on the table and attempted to divide the pile.
Canule stopped him.
“I will decline the split—I only took care of the luggage, and you two were the ones who risked your lives.”
Her words were firm. There was a stubbornness there that seemed immutable, no matter what Mitrof said.
Normally, Grace would convince her otherwise, but when Mitrof looked at her, she seemed preoccupied with something else. She couldn’t even seem to hear the conversation.
Mitrof didn’t mind splitting the share into thirds, but if Canule refused, he couldn’t force her.
“Then how about we take 80 percent and Canule takes 20 percent?”
“…As a porter, that’s still a lot, isn’t it?”
“Not just as a porter—I want to rely on your cooking skills too.”
That was Mitrof’s true intention.
From now on, if they continued to explore the labyrinth, their stay would be longer. They would inevitably have to rely on the portable food that the guild sold. However, after tasting Canule’s cooking and tea today, Mitrof realized how bland the portable food was.
For Mitrof, meals were a vital element that determined his survival.
Canule seemed confused and taken aback by Mitrof’s proposal, but eventually nodded.
“I-If that’s what you want—I can’t guarantee the quality of my cooking, but…”
“That’s good enough—this way, my anxiety about spending time in the labyrinth has decreased. Is this okay for you, Grace?”
“….Um, yeah, that’s fine.”
Grace nodded absentmindedly.
Mitrof noticed the strangeness of Grace’s behavior but did not ask about it. The reason for her distress was undoubtedly related to the abnormal incidents occurring on the fifth floor of the labyrinth.
Even as he struggled with what to do, Mitrof proposed a meal that could also serve as a celebration.
However, Canule declined, saying she wanted to buy ingredients for the labyrinth from the markets while they were still open.
Although she didn’t mention it, Canule also noticed that something was off with Grace. She knew that Mitrof might have an idea about the cause.
Canule understood that it was their private matter and that she should not interfere, so she decided to leave the scene early out of consideration.
Mitrof understood Canule’s consideration and accepted it gratefully.
Once Canule disappeared from view in the dining room, Mitrof looked around and confirmed that no one was nearby before lowering his voice and asking, “Grace, what’s wrong? Is it about that medicine?”
“Hmm,” Grace nodded.
Her skin was usually as white as snow, but now she looked so pale that even her blood seemed to have drained away.
With slightly trembling eyes, Grace looked back at Mitrof.
“If there’s no blue deer, we can’t make the medicine to cure the Divine Tree’s disease—we need the antlers of a fawn.”
“…Antlers of a fawn?—Isn’t there enough stored in the guild?”
The guild bought most of the materials brought back by adventurers and controlled the materials circulating in the market.
Grace shook her head.
“First and foremost, it’s rare to even see a fawn—and fawn antlers are made of a special material—they rot within three days of being separated, so they cannot be stored. That’s why I came to the labyrinth, to hunt for antlers and then immediately return to the forest.”
“…I see, and now even the blue deer have disappeared.”
“If even the cause of that is unknown, then there’s nothing I can do—but if things continue like this, the Divine Tree will die, and our tribe might be driven out of the forest… It’s a difficult situation.”
Grace gave a bitter smile, as if it were a joke. But there was no joy in her expression, and tears seemed to be on the verge of spilling from her eyes.
For Grace, the forest was her home. She had family, friends, and her life there. Memories were there. It was an important place that she didn’t want to lose.
Mitrof couldn’t understand that. It was an emotion he didn’t possess. There was nothing important enough for Mitrof to feel so serious about protecting something.
However, Mitrof believed that anything Grace wanted to treasure must be beautiful—something worth protecting.
“It’s okay—we’ll find a way,” said Mitrof. “It’s just like my troll—we’ll keep going back to the labyrinth until we find the blue deer. If we can’t find it and there’s no reason for it to be gone, we’ll just have to keep going back.”
It was a comforting but unfounded reassurance.
But Mitrof genuinely believed in what he said. It was a sincere sentiment.
That’s why Grace was taken aback. She was surprised at the straightforward and persistent choice that she had never even thought of before.
“…Search, huh?”
“Yes. It might be somewhere out there.”
“…As many times as it takes?”
“Yes—we’ll keep going until we find it.”
“…But what if the sacred tree dies before we find it?”
“Grace did everything she could to fulfill her duty—though it would be worse if it died.”
Grace just stared at Mitrof’s resolutely spoken words and his plump face.
His eyes were sharp, and his upturned pig nose inflated as he let out a breath. He wore the expression of someone who was convinced that he hadn’t said anything strange.
For some reason, this made Grace burst out laughing.
She suddenly found it amusing despite feeling weighed down by the burden on her shoulders and like everything had come to an end.
“Fufu…”
Grace laughed.
Mitrof’s boundless confidence and his own one-sided seriousness were so comical.
“That’s right, it’s not over yet—let’s search for it; let’s confirm it with our own eyes. The labyrinth is still deep, and the road ahead is long—we cannot afford to give up.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Mitrof nodded with satisfaction.