“Hey.”

“…”

“You got sawdust stuffed in your ears or something? Why aren’t you saying anything?”

For days now, Egru had been giving Gilbert the cold shoulder. The bitter resentment from being abandoned to that writhing mass of tentacles still coiled tightly in his chest. No matter how much his Affinity might drop, he knew he had to stand firm this time. Until Gilbert acknowledged his wrongdoing and offered a sincere apology, Egru was determined to ignore him with every fiber of his being.

“Hug me.”

Gilbert suddenly blocked his path, the demand hanging in the air.

Egru whipped his head away and strode past him. He forced himself not to even meet the man’s eyes, terrified that his resolve might crumble.

“Just one hug.”

When Gilbert reached for his wrist, Egru snatched his hand back. On any other day, Gilbert would have simply grabbed him, but this time, he actually hesitated, faltering. A primal instinct seemed to warn him that if he forced the issue now, it would truly be the end.

“Just one…”

His once-broad shoulders slumped so pitifully that his entire frame seemed to shrink. His black tail was already dragging listlessly through the dirt. Egru, however, kept his gaze fixed forward, fighting with all his might to ignore the pathetic whimpering that followed him from behind.

<system> [Gilbert Kuel]’s Current Affinity: 29 </system>

That’s strange. He had braced himself for a drop in Affinity, yet the number had actually climbed higher than before.

Gilbert, looking deeply agitated, continued to hover around Egru. The unwavering rejection seemed to have finally made him grasp the severity of the situation.

<system> Please designate a name for the Holy Sword. </system>

Oh, right.

Egru’s fingers toyed with the triangular sword hanging at his hip. The thought of giving it a name of its very own was a welcome distraction, a pleasant breeze that cleared his mind, especially of the suffocating thoughts about Gilbert.

‘Bar… Ba… no…’

With a flutter of excitement, Egru carefully spelled it out again in his mind.

‘Barbatos!’

<system> Character limit exceeded. </system>

Huh? What do you mean?

‘Th-Then what do I do?’

<system> Undergoing system adjustment. Please wait a moment… </system>

“Hyung.”

Egru turned at the sound of D’Élysée’s voice, only for Gilbert to immediately butt in.

“Why do you only respond to him? I’m here, too.”

Egru contorted his neck at an unnatural angle, deliberately avoiding the crimson gaze fixed on him.

“Don’t do this. I’m telling you, don’t…” Gilbert muttered, raking a hand messily through his bangs. D’Élysée, paying the miserable man no mind, glided past him to stand beside Egru.

“If we walk until sunset, we should reach a small village. I was thinking we could stay at an inn tonight. What do you think?”

“…”

“Hyung?”

“Ah, mm.”

Egru lowered his head, a wave of shyness washing over him. He clutched the hem of his robe with sweaty palms. Was it because it had been so long? Just exchanging a single word made the tips of his ears burn.

“S-Sounds good…” he stammered.

D’Élysée quietly folded the map and slid it away, his gaze gently falling upon Egru.

“I could get used to calling for you.”

“Huh?”

“If I had my way, I’d listen to your voice all day.”

Egru peeked up at his younger brother, whose radiant smile sent a blush creeping up his neck and across his entire face.

“Hmph.” A disgruntled snort echoed from behind them.

The forest path, bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun, was a picture of serene beauty. The dry leaves crunched softly under their boots as they walked, a rhythmic rustle, rustle marking their progress.

<system> …System adjustment complete. </system>

Just as they were about to exit the darkening trail, the status window finally reappeared.

<system> Congratulations. The Hero’s Holy Sword, [Barbal], is now bound to the user. </system>

‘S-So that’s what “character limit exceeded” meant?’

The most important, the coolest part of the name had been lopped right off. Egru mulled it over. He considered changing it entirely, but no other name felt quite right. With a sigh of resignation, he gently patted the adorable triangular sword. It was a little disappointing, but there was nothing to be done about it.

“Barbal…” he murmured softly, stroking the sword. The more he said it, the more it seemed to have a certain ring to it.

“Did you name your sword?”

Just as he was starting to feel better about it, D’Élysée asked. Egru snapped his mouth shut, startled.

“Can’t you tell me, too, hyung?”

“Oh, um…”

D’Élysée’s hand reached for the sword at Egru’s waist, his fingers slowly, almost intimately, tracing the white hilt.

“You’re so good at naming things. I’d love to hear it.”

At his brother’s praise, Egru’s ears twitched involuntarily.

‘Am I? Am I really good at naming things?’

A small flicker of joy danced in his amber eyes.

“Th-The name, it’s, uh…”

Egru leaned in and whispered cautiously into D’Élysée’s ear.

“It’s Barbal.”

“Barbal?” D’Élysée repeated, his voice gentle and warm.

Egru nodded eagerly. Hearing someone else say the sword’s name aloud felt like a stamp of approval, filling him with a sense of pride.

“That’s a wonderful name. It suits you well, hyung.”

“Th-Thanks.”

Egru beamed, a sunny smile spreading across his face. And so, the journey with the triangular sword, Barbal, began.

***

“Woah…!”

Upon arriving at the village inn, Egru could hardly contain his excitement. The ground floor served as both a tavern and a dining hall, and as he stepped inside, not a single person shot him a hostile glare. Back in the capital, he’d get spoiled eggs thrown at him just for looking in a tavern’s direction.

“Hahaha! Drinks all around, that’s right—!”

“Tonight, we drink ’til we drop!”

The clang of overflowing mugs echoed from every table. The lively atmosphere was intoxicating, and his amber eyes darted around, trying to take in every sight at once. The entire inn, packed with boisterous travelers, seemed to breathe with a life of its own. Even the thick stench of ale and sweat wasn’t the least bit unpleasant.

A wild bear’s head was mounted in the center of a great wooden beam, and on a stage lit by rustic candles, a bard sang while strumming a ukulele. The air was rich with the savory scent of cabbage soup simmering in a large pot over a roaring hearth. He stared in wonder at the strings of garlic, onions, and cured beef hanging from the ceiling.

‘Oh, what should I do! Wh-Which way should I look first…!’

Egru bounced on the balls of his feet, his cheeks aching from smiling so wide. In stark contrast to his unbridled glee, D’Élysée remained on high alert, his eyes constantly scanning their surroundings.

“Don’t wander away from me. You never know who in here might have wicked intentions… Hyung!”

Before D’Élysée could even finish his warning, Egru had already shot across the wooden floor, which creaked and groaned delightfully with every step. He scrambled onto a high stool at the bar, his feet dangling far above the floor. Kicking his legs in the air, he craned his neck, taking in the bustling scene. His giddy excitement was so palpable, so clearly that of a first-time traveler, that the innkeeper chuckled as he slid a menu in front of him.

“Looks like someone’s having a good day, eh?”

“Yes!”

“Well now, friend, you look like you’ve got some elven blood in you. If the rumors are true, a man could get himself enchanted if he’s not careful.”

“?”

Egru didn’t understand what he meant, but he was too happy to care.

“Fr-Fruit wine… seasonal ingredients… ch-cheese fondue…”

He sounded out the words on the menu, one by one. It was a thrilling accomplishment, one he owed entirely to Lady Mayfield.

“Anything with cream is bound to be good,” the innkeeper advised. “Our village is mostly dairy farmers, so we get fresh goat cheese every day. We even supply it to the lord’s castle nearby.”

“Really?”

“You bet!”

Egru swallowed hard, a fresh wave of anticipation making his amber eyes sparkle even brighter.

“Well, I’ll be. This is my first time seeing an elf up close.” The innkeeper leaned his arms on the bar, getting comfortable. Egru tilted his head inquisitively. “You look just like they do in the old fairy tales. If I were twenty years younger… Ahem, never you mind that. Hope you enjoy your stay, eh?”

The man, who had been chatting him up so smoothly, suddenly recoiled with a gasp. As if he had seen a terrifying specter, he scrambled back and fled into the kitchen.

“What are you looking at so intently, hyung?”

The voice was gentle. D’Élysée had appeared beside him, pulling out the adjacent stool and taking a seat. He gracefully swept back his lustrous platinum-blonde hair, the corners of his eyes crinkling into a lovely smile.

“Will you show me, too?”

Egru, his face flushed with excitement, nodded and passed the menu over.

‘Heh.’

From behind them, Gilbert, who had been watching the entire exchange, let out a snort.

The instantaneous change in D’Élysée’s expression was a sight to behold. The fierce glare that had sent the leering innkeeper running had vanished, replaced by that sickeningly fake smile.

‘I knew it. This won’t do at all.’

Shaking his head, Gilbert also sat down beside Egru. He couldn’t, in good conscience, leave the elf to a two-faced hypocrite like that. It was painfully obvious how that pathetic little minnow would be manipulated from here on out.

‘Even the great Hero would surely approve.’

Yes, protecting the weak was a noble cause. Gilbert clung to any justification he could find, his mind reeling as it tried to process the turbulent emotions he refused to accept.

His crimson eyes settled on Egru’s profile, watching him with a quiet, unwavering intensity.