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Aha! The demonspawn confesses!”

We were just fooling around. A lot of circumstances had put distance between us, so this was the first time in a very long while that I’d been able to fool around with Gus like this.

“Heh heh heh,” I cackled, doing my most exaggerated impression of a conniving swindler. “I’m just offering to give a use to dead money that’s sitting there doing nothing. Whaddaya say, old man?”

“Hmm, a fine point. Take it, then.”

“Uh…?”

Gus’s face had suddenly returned to being completely serious, and he pushed a number of bags on me. I looked inside them.

Countless gold and silver coins shone with reflected morning sunlight. There were precious jewels, rings, bracelets, buttons, brooches, pins, and cape fasteners. Even ribbons and sashes with gold and silver thread woven into them.

Huh. Cool. A fortune.

HOLY GOD!” I almost dropped them all in shock, but managed to desperately hold on to them.

“Did you expect less from my fortune? I’ll lend it to you at no interest. Make it grow. I did teach you how,” Gus said, and grinned.

“B-But… this is… this is…”

“Money that sits there not changing hands is, as you say, dead. I’m not fond of stagnant money. You said it, I believe. Live and die as it should be. Money is the same,” Gus shrugged. “Make money work for you. Until it’s done its job, make sure it changes hands and doesn’t sit stagnant.”

That was probably an attitude that Gus prided himself upon.

“I can’t be there to see it happen anymore, you see.”

“Gus…” I bowed my head to him, and gratefully took the treasure. I prepared myself to say goodbye. This would probably be the last thing I’d ever—

“That said, I won’t be going anywhere for at least another ten years.”

What?

“Well… I mean… You understand… There is the issue of the High King’s seal needing to be protected. If the demons break it, we’re done for.” Gus gave me a serious look. “So last night, your god came down with a revelation for me, and we had a little discussion. I received permission to loiter here in this city for the next decade or so, until the god of undeath regains his strength.”

My mouth flapped like a fish. How had he arranged this?! What was Gracefeel thinking?! I saw the need, but… really?!

“I seem to have become something akin to a Herald of Gracefeel’s now.”

Upon closer inspection, the sense of “impurity” I’d always had from Gus was weaker now. He even felt more like a saintly spirit. But then couldn’t—

“They told me they didn’t want that,” Gus said, as if he’d read my thoughts. “If they were given another decade, they’d become greedy. They’d start clinging to life. After staying one decade, why not another? And another? At least until you died. You see? They knew they’d start thinking that way. That’s why they chose to move on. They were putting on a brave face, but in their hearts, they were bawling just like you.”

Hearing that left me without words. They refused to cheat until the last, despite knowing all the while that there was a way.

“One old codger is more than enough for this greed-inducing position,” Gus shrugged.

I did agree that Gus could probably handle it. He’d carry out his duty as the protector of the seal with ease, and when the tenth year came and it was time for him to go, he would depart this world without a single word of complaint. I was sure of it. Grandpa Gus always was rock ’n’ roll.

“What do we do about the seal after the ten years are up?”

“Apparently, you have ten years to think of something.” Passing the buck entirely, huh. Thanks, god. “She tells me that faith in her has dwindled quite a bit out there. She used up considerable strength just intervening in our troubles.”

“Huh?”

“It seems that the future of the god of the flame is another thing resting upon your efforts.”

I hadn’t even left yet, and I felt like more and more baggage, both tangible and intangible, was being piled on top of me. So this was what a “rough fate” felt like!

“In any event, I’m sure you’ll be needing money. Go on, just take it already.”

“Yeah. It looks like I’ve got a lot to do. Thanks a lot.” I stuffed treasure into various places on my person, and went over my gear again as a final double-check.

Heavy clothing both top and bottom. Leather gloves, rugged boots. A big backpack with lots of pockets. Belt pouches. One spare pair of boots. Blanket, cooking pan, food with a long shelf life, waterskin, survival knife, hatchet, fountain pen, parchment, rope, one change of clothes, and a thick canvas for camping. Then there were the more minor items: a little firewater to use in place of smelling salts; needles, thread, and cloth of various sizes; a small clump of rock salt. All of these were important.

For armor, I was wearing the mithril mail that one of the corpses of those deceased heroes had been wearing in my fight against the god of undeath. The good thing about this was that it was extremely light. It was strong, and yet it hardly felt like I was wearing armor at all. I put one more layer over the top of the mail in order to hide it.

Then, I put on a hooded cloak, and did it up at the front with one of the cloak fasteners that Gus had given me. I had sewn a talisman with the Word of Guardianship between the layers of cloth comprising the hood, providing my head with some level of protection.

I’d now been marked by the god of undeath, so it was vital to strike a good balance between the weight of my baggage and the strength of my equipment. I started thinking about my old computer games and how useful it would be to have a bag that could hold infinite items. Unfortunately, I had nothing so convenient, so I’d just have to do my best without one.

And finally, my weapons. My spear, Pale Moon; my one-handed sword, Overeater; and my circular shield.

I tied a beautiful ribbon around the base of Pale Moon’s blade to personalize it a bit. It was a lower-rank blade than Overeater, but all the same, it was the very first thing I’d ever won in battle, it was useful, and I had a fondness for it.

Overeater, however, was a different story. Despite it playing such an important role in my battle against the god of undeath, I wrapped it in old cloth and handle leather. I felt sort of bad about it, but just as Blood had said, this blade was too strong, its effect too vicious. It was a dangerous object, not to be pulled out, even if I wanted to. It wasn’t the kind of thing to use as my main weapon. It was a last resort.

For a while, I considered whether I should take the shield at all, but it had proven modestly useful a number of times, and imagining myself without it scared me. Shields weren’t very exciting, but there was a big difference between having one and not. To try to make it less cumbersome, I’d attached a belt to it so I could easily carry it over my shoulder, but it looked like it was going to add quite a lot of weight.

I’d had this traveling kit ready and organized for a long time. I fell silent for a while, remembering how much Mary and Blood had helped me prepare it.

“Will.” Gus’s voice roused me from my moment of melancholy. “If you’re heading out into the world, you’re probably going to need a surname. The name ‘William’ was given to you by them, so I was thinking that your surname could come from me. What do you say?”

“Hm? It’s rare to hear you say something like that, Gus. Sure, if you want.” I had no particular reason to refuse, so I accepted, thinking of it as his final parting gift.

“Then I believe I will borrow from a custom used by certain tribes of elves and halflings.”