I Can Hear the Saint’s Inner Thoughts

75 – Friendship of Men (4)

After the fight with Gractar ended, I received instruction from him regarding overall combat techniques.

“You make a sword out of Mana Core and use it? What kind of magician even thinks of that?”

Sharing a strike once, he realized what kind of person I was.

The fighting and swordsmanship I had learned were merely imitations, copied from watching others. In the end, I needed the help of someone who truly knew.

I could have learned from Kyle, but I thought it would be better to listen to Gractar’s advice, who had been through countless battles, in order to ultimately win in the arena.

“Hmm, your grip and angle on the sword are decent. You must have seen something somewhere. A Hero, after all? I heard you’re from the Dragon Slayer family…”

Watching me swing the iron sword, Gractar corrected my mistakes. He told me that instead of always trying to cut down an opponent with force, it was more important to deflect attacks or defend properly.

“No, try again. Just now, my waist was open, wasn’t it? You should deflect it immediately and then strike, it’s more efficient.”

“But wouldn’t you get hurt?”

“This is Forsaken Hollow! As long as you ain’t completely dead, we can patch up minor wounds anytime!”

Grakhtar slapped my back with his massive palm, laughing.

Normally, monsters and demons have different ways of thinking and values than humans, so I’d be worrying about whether I should completely trust him.

‘…Aside from his fervent love for fighting and family, he’s kind of naively good.’

From drinking with Grakhtar, I realized he’s one of the most normal-minded guys in the demon realm, where lunatics are overflowing.

Did this change after starting a contract relationship with Victoria?

In the past, even to win in the arena, I wouldn’t have asked a monster for help.

“Real men all grow up fighting! Astal! This level of injury ain’t nothin’ but a scratch!”

Grakhtar’s voice boomed as he chuckled, probably getting tipsy.

He usually showed a cool and rational side, but when dealing with a warrior he acknowledged, he talked comfortably, like a friend.

“You have another drink too! A warrior needs to drink when makin’ a new friend like this!”

The liquor I bought Grakhtar was pretty pricey, good for relieving the fatigue and aftermath of battle. He had a pleasant smile and kept offering me drinks.

“…Someone will get mad if I drink too much.”

I only took the first drink Grakhtar offered and didn’t touch it after that. I was afraid of how Victoria would seduce me if she found out I was drinking.

“Could it be that dragon! Well, you’ve got her scent all over you like this, she ain’t gonna leave you alone!”

Grakhtar looked at me with envy as he took another swig. I could clearly hear the sound of him gulping it down.

“That’s why I’m worried. In the end, people like us never know when we’ll die, so I’ve been deliberately pushing those feelings away…”

Was it because of the alcohol I hadn’t had in a while, or was I just more relaxed because Victoria wasn’t around?

I was confiding in Grakhtar about worries I hadn’t told anyone else. I felt relieved that he wasn’t a colleague I’d be seeing all the time, but just a complete stranger.

“…What? Why are you being so chicken-shit!”

Graktaar’s face twisted the moment he heard me, as if he couldn’t understand at all. It was so different from the clear, straightforward expression he had just worn, I could almost mistake him for someone else.

“If there’s someone who likes you, shouldn’t you cherish them even more! Astar, I didn’t expect you to be such a coward!”

“No one from past hero parties has survived. As you know, the Demon Lord is ridiculously strong.”

I sighed deeply. Everyone comes into the hero party with hope at first, but all that awaits them at the end is miserable despair.

But,

“…Are you mistaken about something? The first hero is alive.”

Graktaar was dropping unexpected information. I had heard the story of the first hero, who faced the Demon Lord, being alive, spoken of in songs and poems by wandering bards, like a rumor.

“That was real? I definitely knew it as a rumor…”

Judging from Graktaar’s tone and attitude now, he didn’t seem to be lying.

“That’s because he’s a Dullahan, to begin with. It’s a well-known fact among most of the people living in this territory.”

“…What?”

“They say he’s forgotten his name from when he was human, it’s been so long. Well, he was branded a traitor to humanity, so maybe he’s rationalizing it that way.”

I was speechless with shock for a moment. I couldn’t believe that the being who killed my parents and massacred the villagers was once human.

“Isn’t the first hero’s name Vermillion?”

I recited the information I knew about the first hero as confirmation. The idea of ​​a man who showed such heroic aspects that even a statue was erected for him in the Empire being a Dullahan was unthinkable.

“That’s probably the second one. It’s highly likely that the continent has erased all records of the first hero.”

“How do you know that?”

Then Graktaar shook his head, denying it. I was curious about the source of the information he had.

How the hell does he know so much about these things?

“Because I’ve been rolling around in so many gutters. I clawed my way up from the very bottom, where only the humans abandoned by the world gather.”

Graktaar didn’t offer detailed explanations. Instead, he pointed to the scars on his face and body as he spoke. Marks that screamed of a life lived rough.

“Anyway, a Dullahan was once a human like you, so I reckon they know a thing or two about cruelty.”

Graktaar tore off a plump turkey leg, talking like it was nothing. I couldn’t understand why he was giving me, a potential enemy, such high-grade information.

“Why are you telling me this…? We might be fighting each other in the arena.”

“A warrior can usually tell what kind of life his opponent has lived after a single exchange of blows, and besides, you already poured your woman troubles out to me!”

Graktaar said trust wasn’t something one side gives first, but something built up by giving and taking together.

Unlike the orcs often portrayed as stupid and violent in popular lore, Graktaar was showing a hearty and intelligent side.

“Besides, surviving in the arena, you meet all sorts of races. The one you thought was an enemy might end up helping you, and the guy you trusted without question might betray you, that’s just how it is.”

Graktaar stared off into the distance. His gaze and hands were shaking, and seeing it, I couldn’t help but think he was holding back sadness.

Because where Graktaar was looking was the list of names of those who had fallen in the arena.

“You think nothing’s left when you die, Astal?”

“……”

“I don’t think so. Even if their existence disappears when they die, the feelings and memories they left behind will last a lifetime.”

Graktaar poured himself a drink, alone, and watching him, I poured one for myself. His tone was serious, different from before, and I could tell he’d wrestled with the same things I had.

“I had a woman who loved me too. She was a half-orc who fell for me after watching me fight. She said she was a fan and stuck to me, so at first, like you, I had to keep my distance.”

“Because it gets in the way of the fighting?”

“Yeah, I thought if I let myself have feelings, I wouldn’t survive. I didn’t want to care about anything besides supporting my family.”

Graktaar opened the locket hanging around his neck as he spoke. Inside was a faded photo of a man and a woman.

“Sharana was a woman who cried even from a scratch from a sword, honestly she wasn’t really my type. Maybe it was because she was half-human, but she was brighter than the average orc too.”

Graktaar’s eyes were getting a little red as he looked at the photo.

“So, all this time, the strange feeling I had was because of….”

Only now did it feel like all the puzzle pieces were falling into place. The fact that Glaktar possessed values not so different from humans, and the reason he was even favorably disposed towards me, a member of the Hero’s party.

It was highly likely due to the influence of Sharana, who was once his lover.

“Yeah, I learned so much from Sharana. Even the reason I don’t eat human meat. She was truly too good for me.”

Glaktar nodded, as if confirming my suspicions were correct. Then, as if it were nothing, he closed the locket and raised his glass, and seeing that, I couldn’t help but take a drink with him.

“…Didn’t you say you’d only have one?”

“Stories like this are hard to tell without a little something in the system.”

“You’re a pretty flexible b*stard. That’s why I like you….”

Glaktar lifted the corner of his mouth in a grin and continued. The sound of two men’s glasses clinking echoed through the tavern.

“Later, Durahan found out about the relationship between me and Sharana, and eventually, we ended up facing each other as enemies in the arena. But do you know what was really stupid?”

“……”

“She deliberately lost to save me. She didn’t block my axe with her shield like she usually did, and she deliberately allowed the attack, creating a fatal wound.”

Sharana’s name was also on the list Glaktar had been looking at. Below it were a period and a date, which seemed to signify some kind of anniversary.

“In the end, I survived without ever properly telling her I loved her. Until then, I desperately wanted to live, but now, it feels meaningless.”

“So, is that why you wanted to entrust your sister to me?”

“That’s right. You’ll probably have to beat me to get to Durahan, to kill him. I hope you won’t make the same mistakes I did. And also, I want to see that b*stard die with my own eyes.”

The reason Glaktar didn’t have a favorable attitude toward Durahan, the lord of the territory, or even the Demon King, the leader of the Demon Realm, was ultimately because of this story.

I pressed my lips tightly together and remained silent. I figured listening to his troubles was better than offering a hollow platitude.

“Anyway, my advice is that you need to be a little more confident. No matter how much you need to avenge your parents and no matter how close you are to death… dying without ever having loved is too much of a waste, don’t you think? Astal.”

“…I understand. I’ll keep that in mind.”

I nodded, listening to Gractar’s advice, which became a turning point to slightly change my impression of him.

At that moment,

“Yeah, actually, a woman who looked like your girlfriend was watching the fight from afar just a moment ago.”

“…What?”

With Gractar’s words, a familiar presence began to be felt. I felt something was wrong and turned around.

“Hello. I’m this person’s lover, and would you mind if I joined you?”

A platinum-blonde woman sat down as if nothing were the matter, smiling brightly. It was Victoria Aberhart, known to the world as the Saintess of Flowers.

– I told him to touch my chest instead of drinking last time… Do I really have to punish him? Tie him up somewhere so he only looks at me…

Hearing her inner thoughts, I couldn’t help but gulp like someone who had done something wrong.