That evening, Jan joined Rollo at the inn once again.
The food tasted even better this time—perhaps because of how hard he had worked today.
'If not for this guy's terrible singing, it might've tasted even better.' Jan smiled bitterly as he looked at Rollo and the other knights singing together.
But he kind of understood it now. Life in this world was harsh, and for many, these drinking nights were their only escape. Thankfully, Jan had found his own way to unwind—he had borrowed a book from the library to pass the time.
Any hope of quietly reading, however, was dashed every time Rollo pestered him to join the Knight Squad's singing.
"Come on, man! Join us already!" Rollo urged, half-draped over Jan's shoulder with a wide grin.
By now, Jan knew every word. It was the same song Rollo had belted out the night before, and the same one they've been singing all night. Even someone like Jan, who'd never cared much for singing, couldn't help but memorize it.
"Maybe next time," Jan replied, shaking his head.
"Next time?!" Rollo echoed, eyes gleaming with amusement as he exchanged glances with the other knights before bursting into laughter.
Jan frowned. "What's so funny?"
"Who said there would be a next time? I don't know how it is in your world, hero! But in this world, there might not be a next time! There might not be a tomorrow! It's only this moment, this inn, and this mug of ale! Buhahaha!" Rollo declared, downing his ale in one swift motion.
The other knights raised their mugs and cheered loudly.
Something about Rollo's words struck a chord in Jan's chest—like a string pulled taut.
Before he realized it, Jan found himself rising to his feet, as if compelled by the atmosphere around him.
[Your morale has been boosted by the knight commander's inspiring speech!]
'Huh?!' Jan's eyes flicked upward at the sudden message, momentarily confused by his own reaction.
Seizing the moment, Rollo pulled Jan into a headlock, ruffling his hair like an older brother. The other knights cheered louder, their voices echoing through the inn as they began to sing together:
***
Those who cannot bear to die shall never go inside~
For heaven's gates are shut if I ever weep or cry~
A true son of Zephir, I face death with a smile~
To join my fallen brothers, I'm ready to say goodbye~
Not for fame, not for glory~
For the smiles of those who live, and the tears of those who died~
Our souls, our lives are hanging, by threads that are so thin,
Yet thinking that would scare us, is their greatest sin.
"For those who want to win, should only look within!"
"The walls do not protect us, we are the beasts within!"
"Way up high, Drinking ale!"
"My brothers are awaiting, so I'll die with a grin!"
"The walls do not protect us, we are the beasts within!"
"We are the beasts within!"
"We are the beasts within!"
"We are the beasts within!"
***
As the knights roared the final line, they slammed their mugs on the table in unison, filling the inn with laughter and cheers. The warmth of their voices echoed in Jan's chest—loud and unrestrained, yet somehow comforting.
[Congratulations! You chanted the holy verse!]
[Chanted Holy Verses 1/5]
[Valkeries Knight's Holy Verse Buff: Your immunity to alcohol increases by 40%!]
[Wisdom increased by 1 point (+1 WIS)]
[Your reputation with the Valkeries Knights has improved to Friendly.]
***
It was a long, tiring night with the Valkeries knights.
Waking up with a pounding headache, Jan groaned and rubbed his temples. "Never again," he vowed.
The knights had stayed up all night drinking, singing, and laughing—how they managed to function the next morning was beyond him.
"My head..."
Even though he hadn't had a drop of alcohol, staying up so late in that loud company had clearly taken its toll on him.
As he sat up, groggily looking around the unfamiliar room, confusion settled over him. The wooden walls, the small window with cream-colored curtains swaying gently in the breeze—it wasn't the same room he'd woken up in yesterday.
"Wait... where am I?!"
Knock, knock.
"Excuse me, hero, are you awake?" a voice called from behind the door.
Startled, Jan quickly sat up straighter. "Yes, come in."
The door opened softly, revealing a woman whose presence seemed to fill the entire doorway.
She was extraordinarily tall, towering over most men, though still shorter than Rollo. Her broad shoulders and sturdy frame made her all the more imposing. Yet, there was nothing harsh about her. Her burgundy sleeveless dress, layered over a beige tunic, spoke of practicality rather than vanity. A thick apron hung from her ample frame, and her fiery red hair, streaked with hints of silver, was neatly tucked beneath a simple net. Her warm brown eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled.
"How are you feeling this morning? Last night was certainly lively!"
"Yeah..." Jan mumbled, still dizzy as he rubbed the back of his neck.
The woman moved around the room, straightening the sheets, dusting the shelves, and adjusting the curtains. Her movements were swift and practiced, as if she had cared for this place her entire life.
Jan watched her for a few moments until she paused abruptly.
"You know, they're not always like that," she said, her tone shifting slightly.
"Who?" Jan asked, still trying to get his bearings.
"The knights," she replied with a soft smile. "Don't get me wrong—they're regulars. But they're not always so lively. There are nights when the mood in here is much heavier."
"Really? I thought that's just how they were every night," Jan replied, thinking back to the previous nights of singing and revelry.
The woman chuckled softly, her laughter low and warm. "No, it's been a while since they've been this cheerful. Especially Rollo—he seems to enjoy your company, hero."
The mention of Rollo made Jan shift uncomfortably. Now, his earlier thoughts of avoiding another night of rowdy singing made him feel a bit guilty.
"Anyway," she said, clapping her hands together as if dusting off the conversation, "if you're ready, please join Rollo downstairs. He's been waiting for you."
"Wait, we're in the inn?" Jan asked, his confusion growing.
The woman paused, her smile widening slightly. "Yes, you passed out at the table last night. My husband carried you up here since we had an extra room. He said you needed the rest after such a lively evening."
"Your husband…? Wait—you're the innkeeper's wife?"
"Yes, I'm Erza—the chef," she said proudly, placing a hand on her hip. "I heard you really enjoyed my cooking!"
"Uh... yeah, I did. Thanks—it was really good," Jan replied, still feeling a bit thrown off.
"Well, I've prepared something special for you this morning. Everything's waiting downstairs, so don't keep Rollo waiting—he might end up cleaning the whole table by himself!"
"Thank you..." Jan mumbled as Erza left the room, closing the door softly behind her.
Still trying to shake off his headache and the foggy memories of the previous night, Jan quickly gathered himself and made his way down the creaking wooden staircase.
As he descended into the main hall, the familiar warmth of the inn welcomed him. The place was already bustling with early customers, though the knights from last night were nowhere to be seen.
"Over here!"
Jan turned his head toward the far side of the room and spotted Rollo waving him over with a grin.
Jan weaved through the maze of tables and chairs, heading toward Rollo, who sat at a table overflowing with dishes.
"Erza's outdone herself again! Come on, sit down before it gets cold!" Rollo said cheerfully, already digging into a roasted chicken.
"Yeah..." Jan sat down, his gaze drifting over the feast before him—fresh bread, roasted meats, vegetable stew, and steaming bowls of porridge. Yet, despite the inviting aroma, he couldn't summon the appetite to eat.
Rollo paused mid-bite, noticing Jan's hesitation. "What's wrong? Aren't you hungry?"
"This is weird... I don't get it."
Rollo raised an eyebrow. "Really? And what's so weird about breakfast?"
"Not the food—this place, the people... The innkeeper, his wife, even you. Why are you all treating me so kindly? I've only been here a few days."
Rollo's smile faded as his eyes darkened slightly. He set down his chicken and stood up. "Come with me. I want to show you something."
Without a word, Jan rose from his seat and followed as Rollo swiftly exited the inn.
They walked through the town in silence, until they approached a small steel gate at the edge of town. The air shifted as they stepped inside—a quiet field dotted with weathered gravestones.
A graveyard.
Jan swallowed hard as they moved deeper into the field. The weathered stones stood quietly around them, each one marking a life long gone. Birds fluttered in the distance, their faint calls briefly stirring the heavy stillness.
Rollo stopped in front of two gravestones. For a long moment, he stood still—shoulders squared, head bowed. Then he knelt, placing a hand on each stone as he murmured a few quiet words.
Jan shifted, unsure of where to look or what to say, feeling like an intruder. After a moment, Rollo rose and let out a long breath, the mist of it hanging briefly in the cold morning air.
"Is it... someone you knew?" Jan asked softly.
"My wife and daughter," Rollo replied, his voice steady but heavy.
Jan's eyes widened. "I'm sorry... I didn't know."
"Jan... do you understand what I'm trying to show you?"
Jan didn't answer.
"Death," Rollo said quietly. "Some people believe that if the heroes succeed, they won't just save the living—they might also save those we've lost."
Jan hesitated. "...Do you think that's true?"
Rollo was silent for a moment, then he shook his head. "No. There might be a way to save the living, but the dead..." He sighed, taking a deep breath. "Unless you're a hero, when you die, that's it. There's no coming back." His voice lowered. "But that's just me. To the people in this town, you heroes are their hope. That's why they treat you the way they do."
"But I..." Jan started to protest, guilt weighing heavily in his chest.
"I know," Rollo interrupted. "You just want to go home. No one here blames you for that. But until you leave, everyone will try to help you—because you're the only chance they have. All they ask... is that you remember them."
Jan's throat tightened as he looked down at the two graves. The worn names etched into stone seemed to whisper stories of lives cut short.
Then he turned around, his mind drifting to the others—the countless names he hadn't read, each tied to those who still await a miracle that might never come.
Turning his back to Jan, Rollo gazed at the graves of his wife and daughter. His voice was almost a whisper, "But if there really is a way to save them..."
Jan clenched his fists. "I know... I promise I'll do it."
Silence hung between them, thick with unspoken emotions. Then Rollo cleared his throat—twice, and turned toward Jan with a faint smile.
"Come on," he said, his voice rough but warmer. "Let's head back before Erza finds out that we left the food like that."
Jan chuckled despite himself. "It almost sounds like you're scared of her."
"You have no idea," Rollo replied, dead serious. "She can be terrifying."
"That kind woman?"
"I'm serious, man. Brace yourself for a scolding."
Jan snorted, shaking his head. "Yeah, right—like she'd scold the Knight Commander."
"..."
The expression on Rollo's face made Jan uneasy, so they quickened their pace back to the inn. The sun had risen higher, casting long golden rays across the cobblestone streets. They thought they were safe, but as they neared the inn's entrance, both of them slowed their steps.
Standing by the door, tapping a wooden spatula against her palm with slow, deliberate rhythm, was Erza. Her warm smile was gone, replaced by a stern glare that could freeze molten steel.
Rollo groaned under his breath. "Damn it..."