Chương 19: A Wilted Branch

Things did not improve by morning. Before, Liliya had clearly been irritated by him, but at least she'd responded to his questions. Now, she acted as though he didn't exist. Levi tried to talk to her a few times, but she refused to acknowledge his presence, instead looking straight ahead while pushing forward at a pace that had their horses panting from exertion.

They ran into several more enemies: another band of goblins, a roaming group of orcs, and a weird gigantic bug that had been a cross between a scorpion and a centipede. Liliya eliminated them all with ruthless efficiency. She was even faster than the previous day, her sword little more than a silver blur in the air. Levi had a vague feeling she was visualizing his face over the enemies she cut down. Her strikes were a little too forceful, too angry. At least she still shared her rations with him afterward.

That was something, at least. As the sun began to set, Levi saw signs of smoke in the distance.

"There's a village up ahead," Liliya said. It was the first words she'd said to him all day.

"We can rest there for the night." Levi nodded. Within a few minutes, they came into view of the village. It was small, with only a simple wall made of wooden logs surrounding it. Levi was surprised it was even able to survive, but then again, the ambient mana was lower here. Monsters must not appear very often. As they neared the open gate, Levi saw two guards with spears standing at the ready, their armor glinting under the sun's setting rays.

"Halt!" one of them called out as they approached.

"Who draws near?"

"Good evening," Liliya said, dismounting gracefully and walking up to them, handing them their papers.

"I am Liliya Volkov of House Volkov. This is Levi Ironwood of House Ironwood. We are two students from the Institute of Ascension currently taking the Ascension Trials. We humbly request to seek haven in the hospitality of your village for the evening." The guards examined their papers for a few seconds before their demeanors instantly changed.

"Of course, Lady Volkov," the left one said, respectfully inclining his head.

"Please, come in. Forgive us for our rudeness; we did not know who you were. You can find accommodations at our village inn; just head straight forward, you can't miss it. Welcome to the village of Copperton."

"No apologies necessary," Liliya said.

"You were merely doing your jobs. And thank you." She accepted the papers back and walked through the open gates, the two guards bowing down on either side of her. Levi trailed in behind her, looking around. The village was rustic, quaint almost. The houses were made of wood and thatch, smoke curling lazily from the chimneys, and the roads were just packed dirt. Villagers turned over to look at them as they walked by, small children marveling with wide excited eyes.

Levi caught sight of one little boy trying to rush over to them, but his mother stopped him. Just like the guards said, they didn't miss the inn. The path eventually opened up into a large town square encircled by buildings, one of which had the sign 'The Copperton Inn' hanging over it. They made their way there. A stable boy came out to greet them, taking away their horses in exchange for a few bronze coins as they stepped into the inn.

Levi hung back, letting Liliya do the negotiations with the innkeeper, a kindly older woman dressed in a white apron.

"I got us two rooms on the second floor," Liliya said curtly after finishing talking to the innkeeper.

"Yours is room 202." Levi nodded.

"Thanks," he said.

"I'll pay you back after the Trials."

"That won't be necessary."

"No, no, I insist." Liliya looked like she wanted to keep arguing, but then remembered she wasn't talking to him. Instead, her jaw tightened and she walked away. The ground floor of the inn doubled as a tavern. Liliya and Levi were the only two travellers there from what he could see, the rest of the occupants being locals. The only table left was near the corner. Liliya sat down reluctantly as Levi took a seat across from her.

A fireplace flickered merrily in the corner, and soon, the room became filled with the sounds of hearty laughter and the aroma of good food. The innkeeper brought them bowls of steaming stew, fresh-baked bread, platters of fruit, and goblets of ale. Liliya and Levi ate in silence. The food was filling and the ale had a certain kick that suggested it had been homebrewed. Once they were nearly finished with their meals, they were interrupted by a little girl approaching them.

She couldn't have been more than ten years old, with dimpled cheeks and a wide toothy smile.

"Hi!" she said.

"My name is Amy!" Liliya's gaze softened.

"Hello," she smiled, bending down so that she was at eye level.

"I'm Liliya Volkov. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"I'm Levi," Levi said.

"Nice to meet you."

"Are you two adventurers?" Amy asked excitedly.

"Not exactly," Liliya said.

"We're still students at the Institute of Ascension, but..." Levi stayed silent, letting Liliya take over the conversation. Before long, a group of children had gathered around her, listening intently with shining eyes as she spoke about her experiences as an adventurer-in-training. The word must have spread throughout the village because the tavern soon became packed.

"Tell us a story," one of the boys, Michel, begged.

"Have you slain any dragons?" Liliya laughed.

"No, dragons are extremely rare and powerful. I'm not quite at that level yet. However, thousands of years ago during the Age of Heroes, when humanity was besieged by enemies on all sides..." She launched into a tale of Koxus's past. Levi listened in as well; there was much information that could be gleaned from folklore and myths. The Age of Heroes had been a time where legends were forged and made.

A time where humanity had been fragmented across the continent in tiny settlements, hunted as prey and struggling to survive. In those perilous moments, brave men and women had risen up against all odds and fought for humanity's glory. They were selfless, courageous, and resilient, saving as many people as they could. They protected the weak, they shielded the innocent, and they inspired the meek.

They battled against elder monsters of unparalleled power, they fought terrifying creatures of eldritch origins, and often, they even laid down their lives in the ultimate sacrifice to ensure their children and grandchildren's lives. With nothing but pure grit, the weapons by their hips, and a dream for a better future, they had piece by piece painstakingly carved humanity's place into the world. For centuries they fought, first establishing cities, then kingdoms, then entire countries.

Most of their names had been lost to time. They hadn't cared for personal gain, profit, or glory. But their impact in history would forever be remembered and honored–"For they were true Heroes," Liliya finished.

"Legends whose footsteps modern adventurers seek to follow. That you should seek to follow as well. Because it is only due to their efforts that we are able to live in peace and safety today." She smiled.

"The end." The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The kids cheered and clapped, and even a few adults joined in – she had attracted quite the crowd as she spoke. The kids dispersed soon afterward, running out into the town square and to play a game of heroes versus dragons. The adults followed after them to ensure nobody poked someone's eye out with a stick on accident. Or on purpose. With kids, you never knew.

As the others gradually funneled outside, a man stepped up to Liliya and Levi's table.

"Hey," he said, smiling.

"I'm Jack, Amy's father. Thanks for humoring her – it's been her dream since she was young to grow up and become an adventurer. Your talk meant a lot to her."

"It was my pleasure," Liliya said.

"Your daughter has an admirable spirit. I'm sure you want her to grow up to be strong and fearless so that she can bring honor and success to your family."

"Ahaha, not really?" the father said, rubbing the back of his head.

'"I mean, that would be nice, of course, but…" He smiled sheepishly.

"To be honest, all I want is for her to be happy." Liliya froze. Just for a split second, so brief it was nearly unnoticeable. But Levi had seen it all the same.

"Of course," Liliya said, recovering quickly and smiling.

"That would make sense." She and the father continued talking for a while before he excused himself, saying that he had to check up on Amy. He thanked her once again with a bow and left. And then it was only Levi and Liliya left in the room, the sound of the crackling fireplace filling the air.

"That was a good story," Levi said, breaking the silence.

"I didn't know adventurers thought that way." He had spoken without expecting her to reply, so he was surprised when she did. Liliya scoffed.

"Because they don't," she said.

"Don't tell me you bought into my tale as well. I thought you'd know better." Levi frowned.

"You mean none of the stuff about the Heroes actually happened?"

"No, not that part," Liliya said. She seemed to be in an odd mood after meeting Amy's father, looking down into her cup of ale with an unreadable expression. Levi paused. Or maybe the mood was because of the ale. She didn't look like she was affected, but the ale had been quite strong. Did a person's Constitution affect their alcohol tolerance? He was shaken out of his internal tangent as Liliya continued.

"Maybe a couple of adventurers these days still believe in carrying on the Heroes' legacies. But they are few and far between – mostly naive, idealistic fools who don't understand the world they now live in."

"Oh? And what world do they live in?" Liliya smiled, though there was no humor in it.

"A cruel one. One where you need to put yourself first, not others." She said that as though she was quoting someone.

"Most adventurers these days chase only personal power, wealth, and glory. They quarrel over lucrative missions, they fight over valuable grinding territories, and they fiercely hoard power and treasures to themselves. The only way to survive is to fight for it." Levi was silent for a long moment.

"And what about you?" he asked quietly.

"Are you one of those adventurers who seek to follow in the Heroes' footsteps?"

"Of course not," Liliya said simply.

"I am a daughter of House Volkov. I know better than to believe in such childish, obsolete ideals. Everything I do, I do for myself and my family." She looked at him with a sardonic smile.

"Why? Do you fancy yourself becoming a Hero, Levi Ironwood?" Levi stilled.

"No," he said.

"No, not at all." Liliya's gaze flickered with an unrecognizable emotion.

"That's what I thought," she said, an odd note to her voice. It sounded almost like… Abruptly, she stood up.

"But enough of this. I'm going to get some fresh air." With that, she went outside, leaving Levi behind with a contemplative look on his face. A few hours later, when the full moon was well into the sky and most of the villagers had gone to sleep, Liliya found herself on a wooden bridge overlooking a shallow river. She leaned against the railing, feeling the cool night breeze on her face as her silver-lavender hair fluttered behind her.

She had taken a walk around the village earlier, then ran through her sword forms in an empty field to blow off some steam. The sound of footsteps approaching her drew her attention.

"Hey," Levi said, coming to a stop next to her. He rested his elbows on the railing as he gazed out into the river. She thought about ignoring him, but she had a feeling he wouldn't leave unless she responded.

"What is it?" she asked. Levi didn't respond, looking as though he was carefully considering his words. Then, he spoke, his voice solemn.

"I don't have any friends either." There was a long moment of silence. Liliya slowly turned to look at him. He continued gazing out into the river, but she swore she could detect an awkward, faintly apologetic quality to his expression. Was… Was this his way of trying to apologize for the previous night? For several seconds, Liliya just stared at him. Then, she chuckled. Once, twice, until it became full-blown laughter.

"Hey, I'm being serious here," Levi said, sounding offended as he turned to her.

"I know," Liliya said, her voice filled with mirth.

"That's why I'm laughing." His apology was so clumsy, so stupid, so silly, that she couldn't help but laugh. Out of everything he could've said, this was what he chose to go with? How did he ever possibly expect this to work? She didn't want to admit it, but his words to her yesterday had struck a nerve she didn't even know she had. Liliya was at the top of their year. She was a prodigy, a genius, a Sword Saint. She was widely respected by professors and students alike. And she had no friends.

Partly because her skill was too great. Most of the other students were either too intimidated or jealous to approach her. They placed her on a pedestal of perfection, admiring her enviously from afar but never taking the time to actually talk to her. Not to mention noble politics and decorum further complicating things. Partly because she herself had been raised to not rely on others. When she was young, she'd had friends once. Then her father had found out, and that was the end of it.

Friends were a liability, compassion a weakness. Future party members were acceptable, but even then they were to be kept at a professional distance in case one of them decided to stab her in the back for a larger share of the reward. Such was the life of a Volkov. Partly because of her fiance-to-be, Theodore Montague. He had driven away the few who dared to approach her, even on friendly terms.

As both a high-ranking Royal Sentinel as well as the heir to a duke, he held considerable power and influence over even her own father and brother. Liliya had honestly been surprised that her father had even agreed to partner her up with Levi Ironwood – Montague had been absolutely furious afterward. Marquis Ironwood must've promised her father a massive favor. The combination of these three factors had led to Liliya growing up isolated and alone.

Admired, respected, and envied, but never spoken to as a normal person. That was, until she had met Levi Ironwood. He had poked fun at her, he had antagonized her, he had practically driven her up the wall with his antics. She hadn't been used to that. It was like he had no concept of propriety, no understanding of his place in the hierarchy. He was bottom-barrel scum and universally despised. He should've been falling at her feet for what she was doing for him.

Instead, he had freely talked to her like he was her equal. No, not just that. He had treated her like she was just a normal girl. Not even a fellow noble. Just a regular, normal girl. It had been utterly infuriating. An objectively reprehensible manner of conduct. And yet… She would never admit it out loud, but a small, tiny part of her didn't exactly hate it. And now, here he was, extending the most misshapen, wilted olive branch she'd ever seen. It was downright insulting. Her diplomacy tutors would be appalled.

She should be appalled. … She decided to take it.

"My reaction may have been a little excessive," Liliya said.

"Forgive me for that. In retrospect, I suppose I should've known better than to expect any semblance of propriety from you." Levi nodded.

"A common mistake, I'm told." And this time, she was able to hear the wry humor embedded deep in his voice. The two of them fell into silence. This one felt slightly, just slightly, more companionable than the rest.

"For what it's worth, I really am sorry for wandering off by myself," Levi said.

"It won't happen again. I'll make sure that we pass the Ascension Trials in one piece." Liliya snorted.

"You mean I'll make sure we pass the Ascension Trials in one piece," she corrected.

"You didn't even raise a single finger to help in fights the past two days." She paused.

"Then again, considering your combat track record… perhaps it was for the best that you stayed out of the crossfire." Levi chuckled.

"Fair enough. You're right, I misspoke." Liliya accepted it with a nod. Though, for some reason, she got the feeling he didn't fully mean it. She dismissed it a moment later. It was probably just her imagination.