The Fat Aristocrat Waltz in the Labyrinth - Chapter 43
Chapter 43: The fat aristocrat goes hungry
“Mitrof, I still don’t know how to thank you.”
Grace was at a loss for words, with a look on her face that Mitrof had never seen before. She seemed unsure of where to place her hands, whether crossing her arms or playing with her hair. When she glanced up at Mitrof, she quickly looked away.
“There’s no need for thanks—Grace found the relic with me—it’s your achievement too.”
“But I wouldn’t have thought of this method on my own—and with this, it seems like I’m the only one reaping the rewards.”
Grace looked to the side.
There was a carriage prepared to take them to the elf village. The elves from Grace’s hometown were waiting, guarding the area carefully. Inside the carriage was what they had found: the antlers of a blue fawn that Grace had desperately been searching for.
“We were lucky—a collector introduced to us wanted our relic more than we thought; he used his connections to collect antlers from all over.”
“…That’s fortunate, but is there anything else that you lost?”
“There’s no need to worry—I’m just giving you a relic I can’t find a use for. Isn’t that right, Canule?”
Mitrof turned to Canule, who was sitting beside him, and spoke.
Grace also glanced at Canule to confirm. At times like this, Canule was grateful to have no facial expressions and nodded.
“Yes, Mitrof-sama only gives you the relic because he can’t find a use for it.”
That’s not a lie. If Mitrof had decided not to talk about it, Canule would respect that decision.
“Well, that’s good to hear… but still, how can I thank you enough?—I couldn’t have done it alone—from delving to the fifth basement floor to defeating trolls and even finding what I was looking for, it was all because I met you.”
“I’m the one who should be thanking you—you saved my life and taught me about living as an adventurer in the labyrinth.”
There were things that he really wanted to say, but the shame of being completely honest overwhelmed him.
“Thanks to this box, the deterioration of the horns has stopped, but we must hurry and deliver it to the village as soon as possible—I really want to give a proper thanks, but time is of the essence.”
“It’s alright, don’t worry about it—when in trouble, we help each other—that’s the first thing you taught me.”
Mitrof joked, and Grace finally softened her expression.
“I think it was the guidance of the Divine Tree and Spirits that led me to meet a person as kind and sincere as you—honestly, I’m not very fond of humans, but you are special.”
“I think I look more like a troll than a human, to be honest.”
“Stop joking.”
Grace laughed heartily.
The time of parting was approaching. Grace didn’t want to drag it out, and Mitrof understood. Both had accepted what needed to be done.
“Truly, it was a fun time—living as an adventurer isn’t that bad.”
“Yeah, really—it’s all thanks to you, Grace.”
“When things settle down, I will definitely come back—I have to thank you properly, Mitrof, so make sure to stay alive until then.”
Grace turned her gaze to Canule.
“Canule, will you take good care of Mitrof while I am gone?—He is naive, and I worry about leaving him alone.”
“I will do my best to support him, so please do not worry.”
“Well, it is good that Canule is here—I could not leave Mitrof alone and return to the village.”
“Are you my guardian?”
Mitrof said in a bewildered voice, and both Grace and Canule laughed at his face, which looked like that of a teenage boy who hates meddling.
“Canule, I hope you find what you are looking for—Mitrof seems to be in possession of good fortune—with him, you won’t be far behind.”
“Yes, I think so too—I will do my best to help.”
“…I do not like being expected to do something.”
The three exchanged glances and smiles, nodding their heads slightly at each other.
Mitrof thought this was good.
“Alright, let’s go then.”
Grace called out to the waiting elves. Everything was already prepared for departure.
“So long, Mitrof, Canule.”
“Same to you, Grace.”
Mitrof laughed, while Canule nodded her head.
Grace lifted her leg to climb into the back of the carriage but then remembered something and came back down.
She took off one of her silver earrings that was infused with the blessing of the Divine Tree and abruptly pressed it against Mitrof’s chest.
“This is a silver earring infused with the blessing of the Divine Tree—it will help protect you. Remember, just keep it safe for me—make sure to return it when we next meet.”
“Okay, got it—I’ll keep it safe.”
“Good.”
Grace then turned her back. Mitrof keenly noticed that her long ears, protruding from her silver hair, had turned red. He just couldn’t understand why she was so flustered.
Grace didn’t look back again.
They got into the carriage, and it started moving. Soon, they blended into the hustle and bustle of the street and disappeared into the shadows.
“——She’s gone.”
“Yes—I will miss her.”
“Ah, yes. But, is it okay, Canule?—Since I’m going solo, my income and search speed have decreased—I’ll be less efficient at finding what you’re looking for.”
Mitrof expressed his natural concerns.
When Mitrof decided to trade the relic for the antlers, he called Canule not only to entrust her with the heavy wooden box but also to discuss what would happen to her after Grace was gone.
As a solo adventurer, Mitrof released his contract with Canule and believed that she should find a better party for her own purposes. He even intended to introduce her to Mikel.
At the time, Canule replied, “I’ll think about it.” But now, she continues to adventure with Mitrof.
“Yes, if we are looking for a deep location, there might be a more efficient party for that—however, the labyrinth seems to be a complex place—Mitrof-sama, for example, discovered a relic in a side passage that no one had noticed before. As Grace-sama said—I think you are lucky.”
Furthermore, Canule continued, “Rather than being efficient, I want to go to the labyrinth with someone I can trust—Mitrof-sama said my cooking was delicious, and he was separated from something important for Grace-sama’s sake. I think you are an honorable gentleman.”
“Y-Yeah?—Thank you, but that’s enough—I’m not used to compliments.”
“Yes.”
Canule chuckled softly.
Feeling the composure of an older, graceful lady, Mitrof groaned. He felt that he could not win against such a woman, so Mitrof thought about changing the subject.
“N-Now that I think about it, Grace seemed quite embarrassed when she gave me this.”
Mitrof looks at the silver bird-shaped earring he holds in his hand.
Even Mitrof, who has an aesthetic sense as a noble, finds it beautiful.
“…Did you not know about this, Mitrof-sama?”
“What about it?”
Mitrof responds casually, making Canule hesitant about whether to tell him the meaning.
“Female elves give bird-shaped earrings to men they have chosen in their hearts. It is a symbol of their returning to your side with their feelings. Grace-sama said it was just an entrustment, so it might not be a formal thing.”
“…”
Mitrof wasn’t really listening to the latter half of what was said.
After all, Mitrof, who had been a pig since he was young, had no relationship with women and had never thought of falling in love. Come to think of it, even receiving gifts from others like this was a first for him.
Now that he understands the meaning of Grace’s reddened ears, Mitrof suddenly becomes aware of her.
“Mitrof-sama, your face is all red…?”
“No, it’s nothing. Ah, I’m fine. I’m trying to keep a calm mind.”
His heart was racing loudly. His temples were hot. He sighed with dissatisfaction, wondering why he couldn’t maintain his calm thoughts, which he acquired through sublimation, at times like this. He carefully put her earring away in his pocket.
“Well, what do we do now?”
It was a blatant change of topic, but Canule had learned the art of not teasing men about their shame.
“If it’s okay with you, I would like to see weapons and armor.”
“Why is that?”
“Although I lack the confidence to fill Grace-sama’s shoes, I reasoned that it would be safer if I could at least hold a shield so that we could fight together rather than separately.”
Mitrof remembered his battle against the red-eyed troll. In the end, Canule withstood the troll’s “Scarlet Bear Arm” with the help of a dwarf warrior’s large shield.
“That’s really reliable—let’s rely on Canule—to be honest, I was also worried about fighting alone.” Mitrof nodded in agreement and replied: “I know a good shop—there’s a stubborn dwarven blacksmith and an armor shop run by a rude but kind old woman.”
Mitrof walked while talking about the day he went to the store with Grace.
The sunshine was dazzling, and the coolness of the wind blowing gently was pleasant. The main street was crowded with people, and it was lively and noisy.
Suddenly, a delicious aroma of spices wafted from the food stalls.
Mitrof’s stomach growled, and his mouth watered. His nose made a snorting sound.
“Can we eat something first?” Mitrof asked.
Volume 1 End