A Returner’s Magic Should Be Special - Chapter 55

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 55. Evernaton (7)

It was nearly as chaotic as a battlefield. Fram was visible, sweat pouring down his face as he barked orders at the soldiers.
With even some of the territory’s knights mobilized to oversee food rationing, the soldiers’ irritation was plain to see.
“They’re just going to be kicked out in two days anyway, so why waste our supplies on them?”
“I feel bad for them, but we don’t have enough for ourselves either. Do we really have to give them anything?”
“If the provisions were abundant, maybe. But what is the lord thinking?”
The soldiers’ murmurs carried through the crowd.
They weren’t wrong. Any ordinary person would think the same. One must be content oneself before feeling the urge to share with others.
“Dezir…”
Azest approached him. She reached out her hand to him, then stopped. Her mouth, which had opened to speak, closed without a word.
“I feel sick.”
Dezir thought to himself that this was an emotion he hadn’t felt in a long time. Or rather, since he had no such experience in this life, perhaps it was truly the first time.
A damnable feeling of helplessness—no matter how hard one struggles, there are things beyond saving. The powerlessness of encountering something outside one’s ability. He’d remembered something he didn’t want to remember.
Dezir clenched his fist.
‘Anything. If only I were given a single clue… or even just a hint of help…’
“Are you using these two days well?”
Just then, someone spoke to him.
Eyuran was approaching. He too was one of the knights overseeing the food distribution.
“It seems you hope I should fail, Sir Eyuran.”
Dezir replied.
“That’s not it. Personally, I dislike vagrants, but how could I allow private feelings to interfere in a matter concerning the territory’s future? I sincerely hope you find a good solution.”
“There’s no need for such pressing, I assure you. I will certainly present a method.”
“Of course you must. You are a vagrant, after all.”
Dezir had woven lies to gain Wilhelm’s favor, playing the role of the man he knew the lord wanted to see.
And one of those lies was that he was a vagrant.
Dezir was not a vagrant, but he had no desire to clear up the misunderstanding by revealing the truth. In any case, how Eyuran viewed him was of little consequence.
“No matter how skilled a strategist you are, as a vagrant, you’ll have to vacate your position in two days. Not a single exception can be made. And even if someone were to attempt creating an exception, I won’t stand idle.”
Wilhelm’s words had been absolute: not one vagrant would remain after the expulsion.
Emphasizing this point, Eyuran let out a cold laugh.
“You knelt to save others? That’s rich. You only knelt because you didn’t want to be cast out. You begged for your own life, pathetic as that is.”
In that instant, Dezir grabbed Azest’s wrist, catching her hand a beat before it could strike.
He leaned close and whispered to her.
“That’s not like you. Don’t lose your composure.”
Oblivious to how close he’d come to being struck, Eyuran continued.
“Vagrants—every single one of them. How can they all be so selfish and self-centered…”
Murmur-murmur.
Then it happened. A commotion began somewhere, growing louder until the entire courtyard erupted into chaos.
A group of soldiers moved toward the vagrants.
Before Eyuran could even assess the situation, he sneered.
“This happens about once an hour, doesn’t it? Fighting over each other’s rations. These savages are truly barbaric.”
“…”
Dezir said nothing and simply watched the situation unfold.
It appeared to be a substantial altercation. Screams were growing louder. All the soldiers in the vicinity rushed in, pushing through the crowd.
‘A fight?’
No, looking more closely, it was different. It looked less like a fight and more like something being blocked.
Someone was trying to approach Dezir and Azest, and the soldiers were preventing them from getting through.
Tightly surrounded by soldiers, it was impossible to see clearly what was happening.
Then an irritated voice rang out.
“I’m telling you, I know someone over there I need to meet!”
“We cannot allow you to approach the strategist.”
“I’m telling you, I know them!”
Azest and Dezir exchanged a puzzled glance.
The voice was unmistakably familiar.
“Is that Romantica?”
Azest nodded. The two of them moved toward the soldiers.
As if a promising bit of entertainment had appeared, Eyuran also followed in their wake, moving toward the place where quite a heated commotion was unfolding.
“Ah, seriously! Those people over there—how can you not know them?”
“How dare a vagrant claim to know the Scholar—!”
“I’m not a vagrant, how many times do I have to tell you blockheads!”
The closer he drew, the clearer it became.
That voice unmistakably belonged to Romantica.
Dezir approached the soldiers.
“Stand down, please. We’re acquainted.”
“Ah, Scholar.”
The soldiers hesitated and stepped back. In the same moment, the figure of a young girl came into view.
“See? I told you we knew each other!”
She was a fiercely spirited girl, lifting her fist triumphantly at the soldiers.
Romantica stepped forward to face Dezir.
“It’s been ages, Dezir!”
“I’m glad you’re safe, Romantica.”
“Well, of course—I’m a 3rd Circle Mage, after all! I’d better be safe.”
She stood with her hands on her hips, chest thrust out. The gesture was tinged with unmistakable pride.
At her liveliness, Dezir smiled faintly.
“Where have you been all this time?”
“In the Kerban Territory, a day’s ride from here. I was running a Vagrant Quest there, and then I entered the Main Quest and ended up coming here. But when I tried to enter the city, they just conscripted me into this force without asking.”
That she had voluntarily entered the Main Quest and sought him out filled Dezir with admiration for her.
“It seems the situation isn’t very good. The Vagrant Quest completion rate has actually dropped.”
Since Romantica had been elsewhere, it was only natural she was unfamiliar with the full picture.
Dezir explained to her everything that had happened—how they had been progressing through the Shadow World, their current position, and their standing.
He also told her how an enormous influx of Returners had caused numerous problems, and consequently the quest progress rate had plummeted drastically.
“The situation isn’t great, Romantica.”
The most pressing problem was food. They simply didn’t have enough to eat.
“Public sentiment in the territory isn’t favorable either. If I can’t find a solution within two days, they’ll be cast out.”
If the Returners were expelled, the quest would certainly end in failure, and that would be the end of everything.
“Hmm… I see.”
Romantica tapped her chin thoughtfully.
“You must be exhausted from coming all this way. Why don’t you go inside and rest for a bit? I’ll have a word with the Lord’s Castle staff.”
Dezir wanted to give Romantica, who’d undertaken a long journey, at least a brief respite. There was no use in trying to devise a solution on the spot.
Romantica nodded at his words.
“I appreciate the offer. I am tired, actually. But is the problem just that?”
“Hmm?”
“The Vagrant Quest. Is it enough to just solve the food problem?”
Romantica waited for his answer, watching as confusion crossed his face.
After a moment, Dezir replied.
“Not entirely, but we could resolve most of it. The primary reason they want to expel the Returners is the food shortage.”
“No matter how brilliant a plan is, if that limited resource called food runs out, it becomes worthless—is that what you’re saying?”
Romantica had grasped the heart of the matter precisely.
Her lips twitched with barely suppressed laughter, and there was undeniable delight at having gained the upper hand over Dezir.
Dezir asked.
“Have you thought of something?”
“Huh? Why would I need to think of something?”
Her tone carried a half-teasing edge.
“Why should I be racking my brain when I can solve the problem right now?”
“What?”
Dezir’s eyes widened, and Romantica spoke with unmistakable pride.
“I’ll fix it for you. The. Food. Problem.”
Dezir couldn’t make sense of what he’d just heard.
Having caught wind of Romantica’s loud voice, Eyuran wedged himself between them.
“How could someone like you possibly solve the food shortage?”
Interrupting a conversation was quite rude—which meant he was looking down on both Romantica and Dezir.
Romantica’s eyes turned cold.
“Someone like me? Who are you?”
“Eyuran Lilistic. A knight of the great Evernaton, and the commander’s adjutant.”
“Ah, I see. Quite a high station. That would explain the atrocious manners.”
Crack.
The start was poor. Eyuran burst out shouting.
“What in blazes are you running your mouth about, you disrespectful wretch!”
“Wait, you started it, didn’t you? Do you even know who I am before you call me something like that?”
Before a knight wielding a sword, most would shrink back — but Romantica blazed with fury, refusing to yield. She had been struck where it mattered most: her pride.
Faced with that intensity, Eyuran lost his composure and faltered. His voice dropped lower when he spoke again.
“You’re nothing but a vagrant.”
“How many times do I have to tell you — I’m not! How dare you call me a vagrant. I’m getting tired of that treatment, so you’d better stop while you’re ahead!”
Romantica spoke with clear displeasure. Now that he noticed, the fabric of her garments was far from ordinary.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————