“In truth, I must cast aside all shame and ask a favor of you.” Marquis Chelsea began, moistening his lips with some difficulty. “The Giel Principality is in desperate need of aid from benevolent adventurers such as yourselves.”

“If the Chancellor himself has come, it must be no trivial matter.”

“You are correct,” the marquis replied, as if he had been waiting for the opening. “Not far from here lies an A-Rank dungeon, one of considerable scale, known throughout the West Continent. It is a place that our own founding king of Giel could only manage to seal, not conquer.”

With a troubled expression, he continued his explanation. “It began last spring. The number of monsters emerging from the dungeon began to increase dramatically.”

The horses suddenly whinnied, their cries sharp and high. The driver, careful not to interrupt the conversation, led them away. The carriage, its door battered and broken, turned with a heavy groan; thankfully, the wheels were only slightly bent and still rolled smoothly.

“At first, we thought little of it—an act of profound foolishness on our part. Now, our principality’s forces are entirely committed to dealing with the flood of high-level monsters pouring out.” The marquis gestured toward the corpses of the bandits. “We lack the manpower to even maintain security within our own walls, which has led to a plague of highwaymen. They prey on travelers and have even begun to probe the city walls. At this rate, we will not last much longer.”

“Have you received no support from your allies?”

“The timing could not have been worse. The Empire, the dominant power in the East, has just declared war. No nation is willing to risk squandering its forces. And, as you know, this is the West Continent, the land of demons…” Chelsea lowered his voice as if sharing a secret. “The Giel Principality is also known as the Axe King’s second home.”

“You mean the companion of the first Hero?”

“Yes. Most demons view the first Hero as nothing more than a mass murderer. So, even though this is the second home of his companion, we are, shall we say, quietly resented.” The marquis gave a self-deprecating smile. “We have not been idle, of course. We attempted to hire a mercenary company that was staying nearby, but…” He shuddered with unconcealed disgust. “They used our desperation as leverage to demand an astronomical sum. Their inhumanity and shamelessness were staggering. Had we met their demands, we would have faced financial ruin.”

After this brief, gentlemanly outburst, Marquis Chelsea recomposed himself. “The truth is, I am on my way back from seeking aid from the Hero’s Union. In a world teeming with charlatans, I felt we could trust those affiliated with the Union. Their fees were also within a reasonable range we could afford.”

“In that case, wouldn’t our help be unnecessary?”

“That is… well…” The marquis pulled out a deep blue handkerchief and dabbed his brow. “We were assigned a total of two heroes. And while I have no doubt that each hero from the Union is exceptionally skilled…”

“You’re worried that a mere two will not be enough.”

“Yes, that is my fear. The Giel Principality is currently facing a dire crisis. It is as if we are standing on the edge of a cliff with nowhere left to retreat.” The marquis bowed his head respectfully. It was a level of humility rarely seen in a nobleman, which made D’Élysée raise a single eyebrow. It was proof of the marquis’s sincere devotion to his nation. “Please, I implore you. Lend us your strength.”

Egru’s heart pounded at the request, which felt like a scene from a hero’s epic.

Am I really going to help people in danger, just like a real hero?

His amber eyes shone with a brilliant light. Though he was completely beneath the marquis’s notice, he steeled his resolve. He would save these people with everything he had!

“There is one problem,” D’Élysée said, deftly guiding the conversation. “We are individuals without verified identities. In fact, I have some rather persistent pursuers on my tail.”

“Ah, might I ask from where…?”

The implication was clear: they were fugitives of unknown origin. Having grasped the subtext, Marquis Chelsea inquired cautiously.

“The Empire.”

D’Élysée answered without hesitation, though he kept the truth—that his pursuers were from a cult within the Empire—veiled.

“Ah, please, do not worry for a moment!” For the first time, the marquis let out a hearty laugh. “There is a famous saying, is there not? ‘The past on the East Continent is erased the moment you step onto the West’! How could I possibly doubt the heroes who saved my life? Were you, perhaps, revolutionaries or political thinkers? The Empire is infamous for executing innocent citizens…”

“I’m glad to hear it’s not an issue.” D’Élysée’s calm tone cut through the marquis’s chatter. His suspicions hadn’t truly vanished, of course. He was simply desperate enough to accept help from any quarter.

“In that case, you must now seek permission.”

“Pardon? From whom…?” the marquis asked, bewildered.

“From our leader.”

Then, D’Élysée took a single, deliberate step back. Like a curtain being drawn, his movement revealed Egru, who had been standing unnoticed in his shadow. Egru froze in shock.

“Good heavens…!”

The marquis was just as stunned. The hood of Egru’s robe must have concealed his features, as he hadn’t even seemed to realize Egru was a demon. “I-I thought he was just a child traveling with you! Surely that was a toy sword he was holding…!”

At the chilling shift in D’Élysée’s eyes, the marquis cleared his throat loudly. Fortunately, Egru himself hadn’t heard the remark.

“Allow me to reintroduce myself. I am Virmaux Chelsea, of House Chelsea.” The marquis immediately adopted a formal posture and bowed his head.

Seeing a man of such advanced age bowing to him, Egru moved with the jerky motions of a wind-up toy, completely at a loss as he shot panicked glances at D’Élysée. D’Élysée simply offered a subtle, reassuring smile.

“It was he who guided us here with his keen insight,” D’Élysée continued, lavishing praise upon Egru. “Had our leader not taken the initiative to step forward, your lives would have already been forfeit.”

The marquis gasped in admiration, placing a hand over his heart. “I see. I am truly and deeply grateful.”

“Ah!”

Egru’s face turned beet-red, like a child who had never been the center of attention before.

“May I ask your name?”

“E-Egru,” he stammered.

“Hero Egru.” The marquis lowered himself, kneeling on one knee. His eyes, wrinkled with the passage of long years, met Egru’s with profound sincerity. “Will you please lend your aid to the Giel Principality?”

At the earnest plea, Egru, his face now a blazing scarlet, nodded his head vigorously. For all his righteous determination, he was still terribly shy. An indulgent, fatherly smile touched the marquis’s lips.

“Since our prophet has consented, we will gladly offer our assistance,” D’Élysée declared. The marquis expressed his gratitude over and over.

“We can discuss the details at the castle. If you would ride with me in the carriage… ah.” The marquis trailed off, his eyes falling on the formidable builds of Gilbert and D’Élysée. It was obvious they would never fit in a four-person carriage. “In that case…” He turned back to Egru.

“You should go on ahead. We’ll reach the castle before sunset.” D’Élysée intercepted before the marquis could extend the invitation. He would never let his brother go alone. The marquis, looking disappointed, boarded his carriage. “I will go ahead and prepare for your arrival. I will inform the gatekeepers, so you may pass through without issue.”

The driver cracked the whip, and with the sound of hooves, the carriage slowly began to move.

“I shall eagerly await the moment I see our hero and his companions again!”

The carriage pulled away, leaving long tracks in the dirt. Egru still felt as if he were in a daze. The feeling of being trusted, of being relied upon, was absolutely wonderful.

“Th-Thank you. This is all thanks to D’Élysée and Gilbert…”

“I’m not going.”

“What?”

Gilbert’s flat declaration made Egru start and whip around to face him.

“I’m going to check the dungeons nearby. That’s a better way to find the relic. Smaller dungeons always pop up around a large one.”

“B-But they need our help. Please come with us, Gilbert.”

“I said I’m not going. I don’t give a damn about some old geezer’s principality.”

“B-But we’re companions. Companions are supposed to work together.”

“Hey.” Gilbert’s expression hardened into a scowl. “Get a grip. I have no intention of playing hero with you. I left the World Tree to find the Hero as fast as possible.” He sneered. “Hero Egru?” The quiet taunt was laced with a deep, primal resentment. “Wake up. It’s a trick to work you to the bone for cheap, dressed up in pretty words. Don’t waste your time on this nonsense, just follow me. We find the relic, and we’re gone.”

“B-But…” Egru’s lips trembled, his face a mask of hurt. “What am I to you, Gilbert? I… I thought I was your companion…”

“…My companions are already dead. I don’t need new ones.”

“Then what are we?”

For a long moment, Gilbert couldn’t answer. He turned his head away, as if he couldn’t bear to look at the tears welling in Egru’s eyes.