"...and that's roughly our plan for Idol Rabiel."
Welst's voice carried the satisfied tone of a man who had just delivered a particularly elegant lecture. He leaned back from the makeshift map spread across Beloukas's desk, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.
The room was silent for a beat. Then,
"It's surprisingly simple." Tersia from Ren's party, lounging in his chair with one leg hooked over the armrest.
"It is surprisingly simple," said Farrie, nodding thoughtfully from where she perched beside him. "But why is that the case?"
"Good question." Welst acknowledged with a small smile. "This kind of plan is only possible because of the Cardinal Heroes' authority. Without their jurisdiction—their ability to act where normal adventurers can't—we'd be stuck with conventional methods." He paused, letting that sink in. "With that being said, we do still need allies, support, and influence from nobles."
Rino, from Motoyasu's party, tilted her head, genuinely confused. "Why would you need help from nobles? And I don't think they're willing to help you anyway."
Noritoshi caught Welst's eye and gave a small nod. He stepped forward, placing a hand on the mage's shoulder in silent acknowledgment before taking over.
He let his gaze sweep across the room—Ren's party scattered around one corner, Motoyasu's harem (there was no better word for it) clustered near the bookshelves, his own people watching from their positions near the door. All of them waiting. All of them listening.
"Our ultimate objective is to destroy the entire slavery system." Noritoshi's voice was calm, matter-of-fact. "But that's still far off in the future. A goal that will take years, maybe decades, to achieve. What we really need right now is something more immediate."
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"A safe place. A location where these people—" He gestured vaguely toward the tent outside, toward the freed slaves working and living and rebuilding their lives. "—can live normally. As people. Not as beasts. Not as property to be owned. Not as something to be assigned monetary value. And certainly not as playthings for those with enough coin to purchase suffering."
The room was silent. Even Tersia had stopped his constant fidgeting.
"That's why we need their help."
Noritoshi met each pair of eyes in turn. "We can't do this alone."
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Then Rino raised her hand—actually raised her hand, like a student in a classroom—and asked, "Why couldn't you have Beloukas handle that?"
Elena sighed heavily, the sound of someone who had explained this before and would rather not do so again. "That's... if you didn't know about something, you should've asked earlier."
Rino blinked, her hand slowly lowering. "Huh? Am I missing something?"
"Yes." Elena's voice was patient but firm. "Though Beloukas's network is large, it's still only that—an information network. He deals in slavery, but only to a certain extent. You saw the people outside, right? That amount of people—maybe fifty, sixty total—is considered small in slave trading."
Rino's eyes went wide. "Eh? I didn't know that."
Motoyasu immediately slid closer to her, patting her shoulder with one hand while his face softened into what he probably thought was an encouraging expression. "Don't be ashamed of not knowing something, Rino! That's what we're all here for—to learn together! And honestly, your willingness to ask questions just shows how smart you really are. Most people would just nod along and pretend they understood, but not you. You're different. You're special. You know what else is special? The way your eyes light up when you're curious—"
"Motoyasu." Lesti's voice cut through the budding flirtation like a blade. "Please focus on the topic."
Motoyasu's mouth snapped shut. He looked vaguely wounded but subsided.
Lesti adjusted her posture, her noble breeding evident in every precise movement. "So. Where were we?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Right. The majority of slaves are used for labor. That's why numbers like ten thousand slaves aren't rare to see. Ten thousand. In a single operation, sometimes." Her eyes swept the room, challenging anyone to argue. "That's why I said I didn't believe it when I was first told you were trying to destroy slavery. Kings all over the continent partake in this, after all. It's not just Melromarc—it's the entire world's economy."
The weight of her words settled over the room like a physical thing.
Noritoshi nodded slowly. "That's also why Beloukas can't be relied on for things like this. He's not actually centered in Melromarc."
"Eh?" The chorus of confusion came from multiple directions this time.
"That's news to me," Tersia admitted, for once not following it with a joke.
Lesti shook her head slowly. "Truly. So he covered his tracks that well, huh…"
Noritoshi allowed himself a small, sharp smile. "If you must know, his center of power is located in Faubrey."
The room erupted into murmurs. Faubrey—the most powerful nation on the continent. The nation that should have received the Spear Hero. The nation currently hosting their queen and, according to Welst's intelligence, sharpening knives for diplomatic war.
"To think Beloukas's networks spanned multiple major nations," Welt murmured from the side, his quill frozen mid-stroke over his ever-present notebook.
Noritoshi waited for the murmurs to settle before continuing.
"That is precisely the complication. Now, if there's no more questions." He glanced at Welst, who straightened at the acknowledgment. "Welst has, amazingly, managed to secure preliminary interest from two noble houses of considerable standing. The Reichnott family and the Aberdeen family. Both hold the rank of Marquise, and thus command a not-insignificant measure of influence, power, and wealth."
Lesti's eyes sharpened immediately. "If I recall correctly, those houses are known throughout the nobility for their... tolerance regarding demi-humans within their territories. Are you suggesting they would accept former slaves as residents of their lands?"
"If only the path were so straightforward." Noritoshi allowed a thin smile. "Regrettably, no. Our present need is for a new headquarters and ideally, one free from any secondary authority. Moreover, even if such an arrangement were possible, their territories lack the infrastructure to accommodate a sudden surge in population. The logistical and jurisdictional hurdles they're going to face are... considerable."
Lesti inclined her head, absorbing this. "So we require land of our own. Independent holdings."
"That is correct." Noritoshi met her gaze steadily. "Which brings us to an opportunity that has recently presented itself."
He paused, letting the weight of his next words settle over the room.
"Lord Seatto's territory."
Several people straightened at the name. Even those unfamiliar with the details recognized it—Lurolona Village had been within Seatto's domain. The Wave had struck there first.
Noritoshi continued, his voice taking on the measured cadence of someone presenting a formal proposition. "As you are all aware, the First Wave claimed Lord Seatto's life. His heir—a young daughter—was said to be present in the village when the Wave struck. Her current whereabouts are... unknown."
The room grew quieter still. No one needed to voice what they were all thinking. A young woman, alone, when the slavers had moved through the ruins.
"Given the circumstances," Noritoshi pressed on, "there is little enthusiasm regarding her chances of survival. The territory, therefore, sits in a state of legal limbo. Without a confirmed heir, governance has effectively ceased."
Tersia leaned forward, his usual irreverence dampened by the gravity of the discussion. "So you're saying we could just... take it?"
"Not 'take.'" Noritoshi's correction was gentle but firm. "Claim. Through proper channels. Myne, our resident expert for law in this country, said that apparently there is precedent for such situations—when a noble house is extinguished without clear succession, the Crown holds the authority to reallocate the territory. The key lies in how one defines 'clear succession.'"
Welst stepped forward, clearly in his element. "If the heir is presumed deceased—which, after this much time, is a reasonable presumption—the territory reverts to the Crown's stewardship. In theory, the Crown could then grant it to a new lord."
Lesti's eyes narrowed, her noble instincts catching the implication immediately. "And who, precisely, would be eligible for such a grant? None of us hold titles. The Heroes are foreigners with no standing in our system of inheritance."
Noritoshi allowed himself a thin smile. "Which is precisely why we would not be the ones petitioning directly."
He let the statement hang, watching understanding dawn on various faces.
Rino, still looking slightly lost, raised her hand again. "I'm sorry, I still don't follow. If we can't ask for it, how do we get it?"
Elena sighed, but this time there was a hint of something almost like fondness in it. "Someone with standing asks on our behalf. Someone who can make a convincing argument that granting the territory to the Heroes serves the Crown's interests."
"Rebuilding a devastated region," Welst elaborated, "securing it against future Waves, establishing a base of operations for Wave defense—these are all arguments that carry weight. Particularly with the Queen, who has always prioritized practical concerns over traditional hierarchies."
Noritoshi nodded. "The Reichnott and Aberdeen families have both expressed interest in such an arrangement. Their support in petitioning the Crown would lend the necessary legitimacy."
Lesti was quiet for a long moment, her sharp mind clearly working through the implications. When she spoke, her voice was measured.
"This is... not without risk. Claiming a dead lord's territory, even through proper channels, will draw attention. Enemies will be made."
"Enemies will be made regardless." Noritoshi's voice was calm. "The question is whether we face them from a position of strength or weakness. A secure base of operations, recognized by law, puts us in the former category."
He met her eyes.
"I did not say this path would be easy. Only that it exists."
Lesti was quiet for a long moment, her eyes furrowed in concentration. Then she spoke again.
"So you are essentially aiming for the Queen's approval."
Noritoshi met her gaze steadily. "Indeed, I am. From everything I have been told thus far, the Queen is a far more reasonable figure than the King. Moreover, she was the one who originally proposed the creation of Lurolona Village—a place where humans and demi-humans might coexist peacefully. That speaks to her character."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.
"With all of that being said..." His gaze swept across the room, touching each face in turn. "Are you in?"
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The tent had emptied.
Adventurers filtered out into the main space, dispersing among the freed slaves to help where they could—carrying materials, teaching letters, simply being present. The soft murmur of activity drifted through the canvas walls, a background hum of something almost like normal life.
Inside Beloukas's office, only Welst and the four Heroes remained.
Noritoshi leaned against the desk, arms crossed, waiting. Naofumi had somehow found a chair and collapsed into it, looking like he hadn't slept in a week. If he kept on pushing himself, he might actually not sleep for the week. Ren stood by the bookshelves, examining titles with the focused attention he gave everything. Motoyasu paced, apparently unable to sit still.
Welst cleared his throat, breaking the comfortable silence.
"I didn't say it earlier, but there were three others who offered assistance. The Ivyred family, the Slora territory, and the Florence family." He paused, adjusting his spectacles. "I unfortunately rejected them. They are all small holdings with little to no influence."
Noritoshi studied him for a moment. Welst was many things—scholarly, precise, occasionally awkward—but he was not a good liar.
"... That's not true, is it?"
Welst's composure flickered.
"All help is appreciated," Noritoshi continued, his voice gentle but insistent. "So there must be another reason you declined their offers."
Welst sighed, "Yes. You're correct."
He hesitated, his eyes shifting left and right in a way that would have been comical if the situation weren't so serious.
"C'mon." Noritoshi's tone was patient. "Just say it."
Another sigh, heavier than the first.
"Right. So." Welst straightened, visibly bracing himself. "The Ivyred family has been ransacked by bandits for months now. Their stores are depleted, their people frightened, their lord at his wit's end." He paused. "The Slora territory... they're facing starvation. The harvest failed, and winter is approaching. They have no reserves left."
Ren had turned from the bookshelves, his full attention on Welst now. Motoyasu had stopped pacing.
"And the Florence family," Welst continued, each word clearly costing him, "requested assistance in subjugating a dragon that has been terrorizing their territory."
Silence.
Motoyasu's mouth opened, then closed. Ren's expression had shifted into something that might have been surprise or might have been respect. Naofumi, from his chair, let out a quiet sound that could have been a laugh if it hadn't been so tired.
Noritoshi blinked once. Twice.
"They asked us to kill a dragon."
"In so many words, yes."
"And solve a bandit problem."
"Several months of bandit problems, yes."
"And prevent a famine."
"Starvation, specifically. The distinction matters to those experiencing it."
Noritoshi stared at Welst for a long moment. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face—not his usual sharp, calculating expression, but something warmer. Something almost amused.
"You rejected them because you thought we couldn't handle it."
Welst had the grace to look embarrassed. "I... may have underestimated the scope of what the Heroes are capable of. And I didn't want to burden you with requests that seemed... impossible."
Motoyasu burst out laughing. "Impossible! He thought killing a dragon was impossible for us!"
Ren's lips twitched. "To be fair, we are Level 14 at best."
"But we're Heroes." Motoyasu's eyes gleamed. "We're supposed to do impossible things. That's literally the job description."
Naofumi, from his chair, raised one hand weakly. "Can we focus on the starvation thing first? Because people dying of hunger seems slightly more urgent than a dragon."
Noritoshi nodded, still smiling. "Agreed. But Welst—" He met the mage's eyes. "Next time, don't reject help because you think it's too much. That's not your decision alone to make. It's ours. We're together after all, right?"
Welst swallowed and nodded. "Understood."
"Good." Noritoshi pushed off from the desk. "Now. Tell us the details. Everything about these three families."
Welst straightened, clearly relieved to be back on familiar ground. He ticked off fingers as he spoke.
"The Ivyred family holds the rank of Marquise, but only in name. Their treasury is depleted, their lands neglected, their influence all but vanished. Frankly, if left alone, I estimate they will collapse entirely within two or three years. Bandits have been ravaging their territory for months, and they lack the resources to mount an effective defense."
He moved to the next finger.
"The Slora territory is not large, but their current crisis is severe. Famine has taken hold. The harvest failed completely, and the quality of what little they managed to grow is... inadequate. The worst affected area is Lerno Village." He paused. "The soil there has become barren. They cannot grow crops any longer. Desperation is spreading. I fear they may turn to banditry if no aid arrives."
Noritoshi nodded seriously, filing away the information.
Welst's voice grew more hesitant as he reached the third finger. "The Florence family, as I mentioned, claims a dragon is terrorizing their territory. Specifically, south of Mirso village, in the mountains. However..." He glanced at Ren. "There have been no deaths reported. Not a single one."
Ren's eyebrows rose. "No deaths?"
"None."
"That's..." Ren frowned. "That's good, then. Because based on my foreknowledge, dragons are raid bosses. They require high stats, specialized equipment, and coordinated parties to have even a chance at defeating. If it was actually killing people, we'd be in trouble."
Naofumi, who had been listening with his eyes half-closed, suddenly spoke. "As for the starvation... I think I could handle it somehow."
Every head in the room turned toward him.
Motoyasu's expression shifted to concern. "Are you really sure, Naofumi? You look like you're about to fall over."
Ren nodded, his gaze sweeping over the Shield Hero's haggard appearance. "We don't want you to push past your limit. You've already handled enough."
Naofumi waved a weary hand. "Yes. Just trust me on this one, okay?" A tired but genuine smile crossed his face. "Like always."
The others exchanged glances. Hesitation warred with trust across their faces.
Finally, Noritoshi spoke. "Alright. If you're certain."
Naofumi nodded. "I am."
Ren turned his attention to the remaining problem. "As for the Ivyred family..." He trailed off, clearly running through options in his head.
"Ah! I volunteer!" Motoyasu's hand shot up like an eager schoolboy. "I'm tired of not being able to do anything. So please let me handle this one."
Ren studied him for a long moment. "...Alright. If that's the case. Take care."
Motoyasu beamed.
Ren shifted his attention back to Noritoshi. "As for me and you, we would each go to the Reichnott family and the Aberdeen family to discuss matters, yes?"
"That is correct," Noritoshi confirmed.
"Then I'll go to the Aberdeen family." Ren's voice was decisive. "Noritoshi, you take the Reichnott."
"Agreed."
Naofumi, still slumped in his chair, managed a nod. "So our routes are planned, then."
Noritoshi moved to the map on Beloukas's desk, tracing lines with his finger.
"Each of your journeys is quite far. The Slora territory is located southwest of this town—approximately two days of travel on foot." He moved his finger. "The Ivyred lands are northeast. Also two days."
Naofumi waved dismissively. "There's no worry. Beloukas should have reliable methods of transportation. Carts, horses, something."
Noritoshi inclined his head. "Good point."
He traced one more line on the map—south, directly below the border.
"The Reichnott territory lies directly south of Idol Rabiel's domain." He looked up, meeting Ren's eyes. "I propose we meet there after we've each completed our tasks. Right in Reichnott territory, as a staging point for the Rabiel operation."
Ren nodded slowly. "That works. Noritoshi, you can just wait there after finishing with the Reichnott family. We'll join you once we're done."
"Agreed."
Motoyasu clapped his hands with joy, ""Alright then! Team Unpopular Heroes, roll out!""
Naofumi groaned. "Please stop calling us that."
"Never!"
Ren pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're so weirdly stubborn sometimes. And what are you going to do once we become famous? You can't be seriously thinking of having that as our permanent name."
Motoyasu crossed his arms, completely undeterred. "Why not? It's memorable! It's got character! 'The Unpopular Heroes'—people will hear that and think, 'Who would call themselves that? I have to know more!'" He gestured grandly. "It's marketing, Ren. You wouldn't understand."
"I understand marketing just fine," Ren muttered. "I also understand that no one is going to take us seriously if we introduce ourselves as 'The Unpopular Heroes.'"
Naofumi had risen from his chair. "Counterpoint: no one takes me seriously anyway. Maybe the name fits."
Motoyasu pointed at him triumphantly. "See? Naofumi gets it!"
"Hey now. Don't put words in my mouth. I didn't say I liked it," Naofumi clarified. "I said it fits. There's a difference."
Noritoshi, who had been watching the exchange with quiet amusement, finally spoke. "If we are to be known by a collective title, I would prefer something with slightly more gravitas. 'The Four Cardinal Heroes' has a certain... dignity."
"Boring!" Motoyasu waved his hand dismissively. "That's what everyone calls us. We need something unique. Something that shows our personality."
"Our personality," Ren repeated, visibly exasperated.
"Yes!"
"So we should call ourselves 'The Socially Inept and Chronically Exhausted.'"
Naofumi let out something between a snort and a laugh. "Too long."
"'The Guys Who Really Need Therapy.'"
"Also too long."
"'The Unlikely Alliance of People Who Never Asked for This.'"
Motoyasu gasped, clutching his chest in mock offense. "Ren! That's beautiful! And so hurtful!"
Ren opened his mouth, likely to deliver some sort of snark, but Noritoshi cut him off with a raised hand.
"Before we descend further into this debate—" He glanced at Motoyasu. "—which I am certain could continue for hours—we should focus on the tasks at hand. The name can wait."
Motoyasu pouted. "Fine. But I'm bringing it up again later."
"I have no doubt."
Naofumi pushed himself upright, wincing slightly. "For now, let's just survive the next week. Then we can argue about what to call ourselves."
"Surviving first. Names second." Ren nodded. "Acceptable prioritization."
Motoyasu grinned. "The Unpopular Heroes: Surviving First, Names Second. That could be our motto!"
Everyone stared at him.
"What? Too long?"
Noritoshi sighed, but there was no real frustration in it. "Let's just begin our preparations."
As the others moved to gather their things, Motoyasu's voice floated after them, "I'm making a list, you know! For when we circle back to this!"
Ren's response was muffled but clearly exasperated.
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"Chocobo!" Naofumi's voice rang out in genuine surprise.
They had made their way to Beloukas's modest stable—a surprisingly well-maintained structure tucked behind the main tent, housing a small collection of transport animals. The creature in question was large, bird-like, with long legs and a curious tilt to its head. Its feathers were a warm yellow, and it regarded Naofumi with the casual disinterest of something that had seen far stranger things than startled Heroes.
Ren approached, studying the creature with academic interest. "So this animal is called a Chocobo in your world, huh?" He circled it slowly, the bird tracking his movement with one eye. "In mine, they're called Camelus. Or more commonly, 'Kweh-Kweh Runners.' Virtual pets from the old pre-immersion games. People bred them for racing simulations."
Motoyasu bounded over, practically vibrating with excitement. "Oh man, oh man, oh MAN!" He reached out to pet it, then thought better of it when the bird snapped its beak experimentally in his direction. "In my world, we called them 'Hochiku'! They were super rare mounts in Emerald Online—you had to complete this whole quest chain just to get an egg, and then raise it from a chick, and feed it special fruit, and—" He was practically bouncing. "I can't believe they're REAL here!"
Noritoshi approached more slowly, his expression unreadable as he studied the creature. It stared back at him with equal intensity.
After a long moment, he spoke.
"Ostrich."
Naofumi blinked. "Just... ostrich?"
"Yes." Noritoshi's tone was matter-of-fact. "I'm simply not cultured enough to know if there's any pop culture equivalent for this animal."
The ostrich—Chocobo, Hochiku, whatever one wished to call it—snapped its beak once more, close enough this time that Noritoshi didn't flinch.
"Can we please stop playing around and put the cart onto them already? And they're called Filolial here."
Myne's voice cut through the moment. She stood at the edge of the stable, one hand on her hip, the other firmly attached to Raphtalia—who was, predictably, glued to her side. The little girl's eyes were wide as she stared at the giant birds, her tail flicking nervously.
Everyone froze.
Then, in perfect unison, "Yes, ma'am."
In the blink of an eye, an hour passed.
Beloukas's people materialized from seemingly nowhere—former slaves who had apparently worked with transport before, now directing operations with efficiency.
They produced harnesses, carts, supply packs, and maps with the casual expertise of those who had done this work for years, just never for such unusual passengers.
Noritoshi found himself standing beside a cart, checking the load distribution with the same precision he'd once used to prepare for missions with the other clan members of the Kamo family. Rations. Water. Spare weapons. Bedrolls. Medical supplies. The basics of any expedition, familiar regardless of which world he stood in.
Naofumi moved beside him, slower than usual but steady. Raphtalia had finally been pried from Myne's side and placed in the care of the caretaker woman, though the little girl's parting look promised future negotiations on the matter.
"Two days to Slora," Naofumi murmured, checking his own supplies. "I should make it in one if I push."
"You shouldn't push." Noritoshi's voice was quiet but firm. "You're already running on empty."
"Can't afford not to." Naofumi met his eyes briefly.
Noritoshi held his gaze for a moment, then nodded. There was no arguing with that logic. He'd used it himself, often enough.
Across the clearing, Motoyasu was... being Motoyasu.
"Wait, wait, wait." He held up both hands, stopping a slave who was trying to load a crate onto his cart. "Is that everything? Are you sure? I feel like I need more rope. And maybe a spare sword. And snacks. Do we have snacks? We should have snacks. Snacks are important for morale!"
Elena, standing nearby with her arms crossed, sighed audibly. "Lord Motoyasu, we have sufficient rations for the journey."
"Sufficient isn't the same as good!" Motoyasu waved his hands expansively. "We need the good snacks! The kind that make you feel like everything's going to be okay even when you're riding into bandit territory!"
Rino tilted her head. "Is that... a thing? Snacks that make you feel okay about bandits?"
"Yes! Absolutely! It's a critical component of adventuring psychology!" Motoyasu grabbed a passing slave by the shoulders. "My friend, where do you keep the good snacks?"
The slave blinked at him, then slowly pointed toward a small storage tent.
Motoyasu was gone before anyone could stop him.
Ren, observing from beside his own cart, pinched the bridge of his nose. "I feel sorry for his party. He's going to be insufferable for the entire journey."
Farrie patted his arm sympathetically. "Probably. But he means well."
"Meaning well and being insufferable are not mutually exclusive."
"No," Tersia chimed in, appearing seemingly from nowhere with a pack slung over one shoulder. "But they do often travel together. It's like they're on a romantic getaway, those two concepts."
Ren shot him a look. Tersia grinned like the cheeky bastard that he is.
Welst approached Noritoshi's cart, adjusting his spectacles. "I've compiled preliminary notes on the Reichnott family's known associates and potential pressure points. Nothing substantial, but—" He held out a small leather-bound book.
Noritoshi accepted it, flipping through the pages. Dense handwriting. Cross-references. The unmistakable mark of a scholar who took his work seriously.
"This is excellent, Welst. Thank you."
Welst preened slightly. "I aim to be useful."
"You are." Noritoshi tucked the book into his pack. "More than you know."
Across the clearing, Kairn was checking the harness on one of the birds—the yellow one that had eyed Noritoshi earlier. It seemed to tolerate her, which was more than it had offered anyone else.
"You've got a way with animals," Farrie observed, watching from a safe distance.
"I've got a way with things that might kill me in general." Kairn tightened a strap.
Rojeel appeared beside Noritoshi's cart, silent as always. He placed a small wooden box on the seat, then nodded once and walked away.
Noritoshi opened it. Inside, neatly arranged, were a dozen monster materials he never saw. It seemed Rojeel had his own way of caring.
He looked up, but Rojeel had already melted back into the crowd.
Bakta and Rhea were silently helping Naofumi and we're constantly following him around.
The bustle continued. Carts were loaded. Harnesses were checked and rechecked. Supplies were counted, then counted again. Beloukas appeared briefly, surveyed the chaos with an expression of resigned acceptance, and disappeared back into his office.
Finally, after what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, everything was ready.
The four carts stood in a rough line, each hitched to a pair of the great birds. Each Hero stood beside their designated transport, party members clustered nearby.
Naofumi, looking exhausted but determined, one hand resting on the side of his cart. Ren, calm and collected, already running through mental checklists. Noritoshi, composed as always, Welst's book tucked safely in his pack.
And Motoyasu.
He stood at the head of his cart, one foot propped on the wheel, arm raised dramatically. Behind him, Elena, Rino, and Lesti arranged themselves with varying degrees of embarrassment.
Noritoshi saw it coming. He saw it in the way Motoyasu's chest expanded, the way his eyes gleamed, the way he drew breath with the theatrical grandeur of a stage performer.
He could have stopped it. Should have stopped it, perhaps.
Instead, he found himself waiting. Listening.
Motoyasu's voice rang out across the clearing, loud and clear and utterly, completely in character for Motoyasu,
"TEAM UNPOPULAR HEROES... ROLL OUT!"
The birds shifted. A few slaves paused in their work to stare. Somewhere, someone dropped a tool.
Ren closed his eyes. Naofumi let out a sound that was half groan, half laugh. Noritoshi felt his lips twitch.
And then, impossibly, Ren raised one hand in a lazy salute. Naofumi did the same, the gesture tired but genuine.
Noritoshi lifted his hands and shouted, "Roll out!"
""Roll out!"" Everyone echoed back.
Motoyasu beamed.
The carts began to move.
The first mission was underway.
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Yo guys. Author here. Did you guys peep the new cover? I know what I said about Malty, but that art is genuinely so tuff.