Carefree Journey of the Fugitive Sage Candidates

Chapter 69, An Absolute Gem

Translator: Barnnn

On the short walk back to the inn from the food stalls, Ize turned to Fieda for advice on how she should handle questions about her new skills.

The reason was that the combination of Dark and Light magic was pretty much unheard of. If word got out, perhaps people would talk.

“Most people won’t ask outright,” Fieda started. “At most, they’ll want to know how many skills you have, or if they’re general ones.”

“What about magical skills? Or unique ones? Do they just not say anything?”

“Some people are nosy, some aren’t. But in your case, word’s already out that you have a physical enhancement skill, right? Just let them think that’s all there is to it.”

“So… I should just let them assume and not mention anything else?”

“Exactly.”

Ize and Hal both nodded. Since Hal was posing as her older brother, there was a good chance he’d get questioned too. Best to keep their stories straight.

Fieda hesitated, then stopped in his tracks.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you two something.”

“”What’s up?””

Ize and Hal turned to him at the same time, heads tilted at nearly identical angles.

[What’s with that pose?] Suppressing a sigh, Fieda crossed his arms and said, “Do you really think this whole ‘siblings’ act is believable?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Hal asked.

“What do you mean?” Ize echoed.

Fieda arched an eyebrow. “Hal, you were born in early August, right? And today’s the beginning of April. If you two had the same mother, that timeline doesn’t add up.”

Hal blinked. “…Oh.”

Frowning, he started counting on his fingers. Beside him, Ize tilted her head the other way.

“Well… maybe Ize’s birth was just really premature?”

Both Hal and Fieda turned to stare at her. A moment passed. Then, as realization dawned, Ize went bright red.

“I was actually born late! And I was perfectly healthy, thank you very much!”

“So that’s a no, then,” Hal muttered.

Fieda nodded. “If you were nobles, you might get away with the half-sibling excuse. But no one’s going to believe you’d go off adventuring together to look for your father.”

“Yeah… that wouldn’t make sense,” Ize admitted.

A heavy silence settled over them as they processed this unexpected flaw in their cover story, their expressions darkening as they tried to think of a solution.

Then, after a long pause, Fieda shrugged. “…Let’s just forget about it for now.”

With how he was the one who had brought the topic up in the first place, Hal and Ize turned on him in unison, expressions identical in their betrayal.

Still, they had no better ideas, and in moments like this, sometimes it was best to just go along with what the older, more experienced party member said. Even if they didn’t usually acknowledge that fact.

◆

They returned earlier than they would from a Dungeon run, but still later than they would on a proper rest day.

As they stepped inside, Etta greeted them with a bright smile.

“Welcome back, Ize! And congratulations on becoming an adult! Same to you, Hal, Fieda. You must be relieved now that it’s official.”

“Thank you, Miss Etta.” Ize hesitated. “Um, so… did you… already know?”

Etta’s smile turned mysterious. “That’s a secret. I’ll just say this — I’ve been running this inn a long time, and adventurers have their own unspoken rules. One of them is that you don’t ask questions until the person brings it up themselves. Keep that in mind.”

Her voice lowered slightly, as if sharing a private joke.

Ize understood. It was reassurance, wrapped in discretion. She offered a small, grateful smile and whispered, “Thank you.”

Etta’s expression softened even more, warm and gentle like the bread she baked each morning.

“So, I was expecting a feast tonight,” Fieda said.

“Didn’t know you were such a glutton, Fieda,” Hal teased.

“One glutton is enough,” Ize added.

“Wait, me? Isn’t it you, Ize?”

“”It’s you, Hal,”” Fieda and Ize said in unison.

Hal turned to Etta for help, but she only gave him a sweet, knowing smile.

For a moment, he felt relieved — until she clapped her hands together.

“All right, then! Before our poor, starving Hal keels over, let’s bring out the food!”

The betrayal was swift and absolute.

◆

“This! This… this is it! Kikeriki!”

“Wait, Ize… what’s with the chicken noise?”

“P-p-p-pizza! Tswit!”

“…And why do you sound like a sparrow, Hal?”

“”Fieda, shut up!””

The moment Etta set the dish on the table, Ize and Hal practically lunged for it.

What she had prepared, it turned out, was pizza. A dish neither of them had ever seen in this world before.

A crisp, golden crust, baked thin and crunchy. Deep red sauce spread like a velvet carpet. Creamy white pearls of melted cheese, glistening under the lamplight. Tangy tomatoes and rich cheese — a sinful combination, further enhanced by thick-cut Orc bacon. Around it, an army of colorful vegetables stood ready to challenge the dominance of meat.

A battle too glorious to simply devour. And yet–

“Hng…! Miss Etta, you’re a genius!” Ize groaned, shoving a hot slice into her mouth.

“Hff — hff — ahhh, I need a beer with this!”

Fieda took a more reserved bite, nodding approvingly. “Mmm… the texture is distinct from bread. Satisfyingly chewy, with just the right amount of heft. The sauce strikes a perfect balance between acidity and richness, and the toppings transform the flavor with each bite. I never imagined something so simple could be this good. Truly, the Sages’ recipes are a marvel.”

“I swear, Fieda, you sound like a food critic,” Ize muttered.

“If he starts calling this an ‘absolute gem,’ we should probably check if he’s been possessed,” Hal added.

“Hmm? What’s that about gems?” Fieda raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, sorry, just an inside joke,” Hal said.

“Never mind that, just eat,” Ize cut in.

Etta explained that this was still an experimental recipe — she’d only made one type so far, but she planned to refine the combinations and test different toppings.

As Hal and Ize mentally ran through all the potential ingredients they could suggest, they both reached the same conclusion.

For now, all that mattered was the gem before them — the pizza.

◆

That night, after their bath, Ize lounged comfortably in their room while Hal stood behind her, drying her hair.

“Man, we really managed to take braids apart huh?” he commented.

“They were… pretty hard to take out, weren’t they?”

Remembering the chaos before their bath, Ize let out a quiet chuckle. Her hair had been woven so tightly that it had taken both Hal and Fieda working together to unravel it. She’d tried to help, of course, but without being able to see the back of her own head, all she could really do was offer moral support.

Unfortunately, her enthusiastic rendition of the Jasted Men’s March — with improvised lyrics where a Milk Toad skewer served as the Hero’s mighty weapon — had not been as rousing as she’d hoped. Neither Hal nor Fieda had been impressed. Perhaps the choice of weapon had doomed the performance from the start.

Hal had no reservations about untangling her hair, having dried it for her countless times before. But Fieda… Fieda had hesitated at first, reluctant even to touch it. His thick fingers had moved with such exaggerated caution that he’d reminded Ize of a massive bear trying to handle something delicate.

“…Maybe you should ask Odelya about your hair?” Hal suggested.

“You mean cutting it?”

“Yeah. I’d like her to cut mine too, if she doesn’t mind.”

“Let’s ask Fieda tomorrow, then.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

With that settled, they flopped onto their beds at almost the exact same time, exhaling as the day’s events finally caught up with them.

“…Dark magic,” Hal murmured, then suddenly snorted. “Pfft.”

“Don’t even start,” Ize grumbled.

“Have you tried anything with it yet?”

“Not yet.”

“What about Light magic?”

“Not yet.”

“Ehh, why not? You’ve gotta do the whole magical girl thing soon. You even have a Morphin’ Brace!”

“…Please at least be normal and call it a staff…”

With a resigned sigh, Ize shifted the bangle on her wrist, watching as it unraveled and reformed into its original form — a crutch.

According to Hal’s appraisal, it had the ability to greatly amplify magical output.

“It’s still wild to me,” Hal mused, staring at it. “That crutch turning into some super-powerful staff —  heh…”

“Stop laughing.”

Rolling her eyes, Ize changed it back into a bangle and turned the conversation on him.

“Is magic fun for you?”

“Yeah, it is. Actually, there’s something I really want to try.”

“Oh, cool.”

“…Aren’t you going to ask what it is?”

Ize sighed. “What is it that you want to try?” she deadpanned.

Hal sat up, puffing out his chest. “Since you insist! I, Hal, intend to fuse Water and Wind magic to create — drumroll, please — lightning magic!”

With an exaggerated “Ba-bam!” flourish, he looked around as if he had just made a grand scientific breakthrough.

“Lightning magic?”

“Yup. I feel like I can do it. Sometimes I get little sparks, but I can’t quite get them to strike where I want yet.”

“If you don’t get that under control, you’re going to zap your own allies.”

“Exactly. We’ll probably need to hit the Dungeon soon to test your magic, right? I want to try mine, too — ideally somewhere with fewer people around.”

“We should bring that up with Fieda. Maybe we can set aside part of our Dungeon run for practice?”

“…Actually, we could go to the Dungeon on a rest day just to train — but that would be weird?”

“That sounds like the kind of thing workaholics do.”

“Gah! The corporate manager in me is acting up again…!”

Clutching his chest as if mortally wounded, Hal collapsed onto the bed, rolling around in exaggerated agony.

Ize smirked and flicked up her hand, miming the casual blow of smoke from a finger gun.

“Speaking of which, tomorrow’s a rest day, right?” she proceeded to ask.

“Yeah. The plan is to update your Guild registration card and rank, check the archives for information on Dark and Light magic, then head over to Hiro and Take’s place for riding practice.”

“Can we skip riding tomorrow and squeeze in a quick Dungeon trip?”

“Oh? You want to test your magic?”

“Yeah. Once we gather information in the morning, I’d like to try a few spells in the afternoon.”

“Got it. We’ll ask Fieda about it tomorrow.”

“Thanks.”

Still lying down, Ize turned her head toward Hal and smiled. Something about the way he looked at her then — like he was quietly saying “well done” — made her chest tighten, though she couldn’t quite explain why.

“…Hal, were you an older brother back in Japan too?”

“You can tell?”

“You’re really good at drying hair.”

He let out a small laugh. “Yeah, I had a younger sister. She treated me like her personal servant.”

“Servant?” Ize parroted, amused. “How much younger?”

“Seven years. She was spoiled rotten. I couldn’t even bring myself to get mad at her. She was so proud of her long hair — let it grow down to her waist. I told her she should just cut it, and she kicked me so hard I had a bruise on my thigh for days.”

“…That’s terrifying.”

“It WAS terrifying. But around when she turned twenty, she got married and moved overseas… and when she had a kid, she chopped all that hair off — short as yours. That’s when it really hit me. She’d become a mom.”

“That must’ve taken a great deal of resolve. I bet having an older brother like you was nice.”

“You think so? She’d never say that to my face. But listen…”

Hal paused, his voice turning quieter, his expression unreadable.

Ize turned onto her side, meeting his gaze.

“…Takada Haruka’s little sister is her own person. She has her kid — that’s her family. In this world, the only little sister I have is you, Ize. Don’t forget that.”

His tone wasn’t teasing, nor was it heavy with emotion. Just a simple statement of fact.

And yet, his words seeped deep into her, like water finally finding its way down a parched throat — absorbed into her very being, carried through her bloodstream.

“…Yeah. I won’t forget.”

“Good. Now sleep.”

“Mm-hmm. Goodnight.”

And so, the long day came to an end.

After all the celebrations, after all the warm words from those around her, Ize felt — perhaps for the first time — that she had truly become a part of this world.