The Fat Aristocrat Waltz in the Labyrinth - Chapter 86
Chapter 86: The fat aristocrat reunites with the silver bird
The next morning, Mitrof lay on the bed of the usual cheap inn, staring at the ceiling with stains floating on the wooden planks.
Just a moment ago, Mitrof made a crucial discovery.
“——The stain over there looks like a goblin’s face turned sideways.”
“Hmmm”…he groaned.
It was said that the Holy Spirit engraved revelations on the back of the saint.
‘Does that mean a revelation has appeared for me to go to the labyrinth?’
Pinching his double chin, Mitrof twisted his lips heavily.
‘I’m bored.’
During the previous rest days, Mitrof’s body had been completely tired. Resting his mind and body, nourishing himself until full, and doing any necessary maintenance on his weapons and armor. After that, he would just laze around and sleep.
By preparing for the explorations the next day like that, the day would fly by in no time. It was a busy everyday life, but it was also comfortable.
There were things to be done, and Mitrof was eager to do them himself.
This kind of everyday life brought Mitrof a sense of fulfillment that he had never experienced before.
However, Mitrof’s tomorrow is now further away.
Due to his injured right arm, he had been ordered to rest for a while.
There was nothing to do, and going to the labyrinth wouldn’t hurt, even if Mitrof thought that way alone. But Canule did not feel the same way.
It happened last month. Mitrof and Canule challenged the Silver Knight to a duel together. It was to protect Canule’s freedom and to spend their days together challenging the labyrinth. After narrowly winning the duel, Canule offered her shield to Mitrof for some reason.
Mitrof insisted that they were comrades, but since then, Canule has been supporting him even more than before.
Her essence is that of a knight, and her earnest personality ensures that she is meticulous about protecting Mitrof.
This time, Mitrof did not intend to rest for long.
After all, he has medical expenses to pay off and living expenses to earn. He argued that he could not afford to just relax and sleep.
Canule carefully listened to Mitrof’s claims. Then she decisively said:
“I understand what you are saying—please rest now, as I will work even harder.”
After that, no matter what Mitrof said, he could not break through Canule’s defenses.
‘After all, isn’t supporting each other during difficult times part of being companions?—You know my abilities well…’
Since Canule brought up something Mitrof himself had previously said to her, he had no way to refute it.
Canule was surprisingly stubborn and a genius who did not back down from debates with Mitrof. However, Mitrof had to admit defeat.
“It’s no use—I can’t rest.”
Mitrof sat up, and his elbow hurt as he used it for support.
If he asked the miracle-working priest for help, it would heal in no time. However, he would have to be prepared to increase his debt, which was a necessary note.
He could not rest calmly and could not recover quickly either. Perhaps he had been working too hard as an adventurer lately. Habits were a frightening thing, as even someone who had previously led such a lazy life like Mitrof was now struggling with boredom.
Sleeping alone in his cramped room felt too idle, so Mitrof decided to leave.
Although he was wearing casual clothes, he had his sword belt and thrusting sword hanging from his waist. He knew it was unnecessary, but the weight of having it by his side gave him a sense of calm.
During bright daylight, the city was bustling with different activities than at night. Mitrof would usually walk around during the night after returning from his explorations. Sometimes, he would walk until late at night. Within the labyrinth, where there was no sun or stars, it was difficult to tell time.
There were horse carriages running along the main streets. To clear the way for people passing by, the coachmen would ring their bells. Newspaper boys would walk around shouting, while street performers would entertain the crowds on other streets. The deafening noise slowly blended in with the lively atmosphere of the city.
Mitrof walked aimlessly, without any particular destination in mind, without any acquaintances to visit, and with only a cheap inn to return to.
Even amidst the crowd of people passing by, Mitrof felt lonely.
Suddenly, he left the crowd and headed towards a narrow path. He did not know where it would lead him, nor did he have a specific destination in mind.
As he turned a few corners, the presence of people around him gradually faded, and the small paths sandwiched between buildings seemed to go on endlessly.
Even though it was midday, there was a dim light cast over the area. Tattered clothes were hung overhead for shade, and emaciated men sat on the roadside, smoking cigarettes.
A bit further up, a group of men were gathered around a barrel with wooden pieces, playing a card game. Their glares told Mitrof that he didn’t belong there.
Just as he thought about turning back, one of the wooden doors at the end of the street opened, and a small figure emerged from within.
The light leaking through the gap in the canopy above was harsh, shining on a hooded figure. The silver hair flowing down the figures’ necks reflected the particles of light.
Suddenly, their gazes met. They both recognized each other’s faces without a doubt. Mitrof was surprised, it was a face he knew well.
“——Grace?”
She was the elven girl Mitrof met for the first time when he dived into the labyrinth. She was his comrade who taught him the basics of being an adventurer and fought with him against the “red-eyed”. She was supposed to have left to solve the problems of her home village.
He thought he might be mistaken, but even his partner seemed to be unable to hide her shock at the unexpected reunion in such an unusual place.
The surprised look on her face and the small mouth that hung open were definitely Grace.
Before Mitrof could raise his hand and rush towards her, Grace had already run towards him, holding her hood down over her eyes.
“G-Grace?!”
It was Mitrof who was flustered. He had no idea why Grace ran away at the sight of him. Suddenly running away, Mitrof had no choice but to chase after her.
Although he was bewildered, Mitrof ran, but Grace was far more agile than him.
Just when he thought he had been left behind, Grace swiftly turned into a crossroad.
By the time Mitrof finally turned the same corner, her figure was no longer visible.
“What’s going on…?”
Breathless and confused, Mitrof leaned against the wall and surveyed the street.
The narrow paths on both sides were dimly lit even during the day, sloping gradually downward. There was no sign of people. The street was lined with dark, cracked windows and doorless entrances.
Mitrof stood in shock and put his hand into his pocket, taking out a small earring. It was a bird-shaped silver piece that Grace had given him as a parting gift.
“She said she would only lend this to me,” Mitrof grumbled.
It was supposed to be a promise of a reunion.
However, for some reason, it seemed that Grace did not want to see him again. Mitrof sniffs.