Chapter 9: Me? My Name Is Li Qiuchen.

Ellen and Jocelyn skillfully stripped Young Master Kairui down to just a thin undergarment, taking his heavy wallet but returning his staff, placing it beside him.

(The staff had a Tracking Gem, and the two of them had fiddled with it for a long time without being able to remove it.)

As for whether to kill him, Jocelyn turned to look at the still terrified girl.

“No… we can’t kill him!”

Naili’s face was bloodless, her voice trembling with tears.

“If Young Master Kairui dies, his father, the Old Baron, will never let it go! He’ll turn the whole town upside down, he’ll take revenge on you at any cost, and… and I’ll be implicated too…”

“But if we just let him go, won’t we be in even more trouble when he wakes up?”

Jocelyn’s voice, muffled by her heavy armor, was practical and realistic.

She deftly tossed the question to Naili, who knew Kairui better.

“No! He… he’s always like this when he’s drunk! There was… there was a time before when something like this happened.”

Naili hurriedly defended, as if grasping at the only straw of hope.

“Once, he was knocked out in an alley by a new stableboy, and when he woke up, he remembered nothing! Really!”

Ellen listened in silence, his gaze shifting between the unconscious Kairui and the anxious Naili.

He counted thirty Tucker Copper Coins from the freshly obtained wallet and pressed them into Naili’s cold hand.

“Naili, can I trouble you one more time?”

His tone was gentle, carrying a comforting strength.

“Go get some liquor, the stronger the better.”

Naili looked at the heavy coins in her palm, then up at Ellen’s deep-featured face with Northlands characteristics.

A strange sense of familiarity flashed through her heart, making her cheeks flush slightly.

“Y-yes! I work at the Oak Barrel Tavern. I’ll be back soon!”

She lifted her skirt and, like a startled but determined fawn, dashed out of the alley.

In less than fifteen minutes, Naili returned carrying a large jug of beer reeking of malt, her breath still a little uneven.

Ellen took the jug and, without hesitation, poured most of the cheap ale over Kairui and the ground around him.

The pungent smell instantly filled the air, covering up the subtle traces of the earlier fight.

“All right,”

Ellen clapped his hands and gave Jocelyn a look.

“Now, he’s just a poor drunk passed out by the trash heap.”

Jocelyn took the remaining beer, sipped it, and commented,

“Not bad.”

Then, through a gap in her armor, she downed the rest in one gulp.

As long as something wasn’t poisonous, Jocelyn was always happy to try it.

(This isn’t entirely accurate. It should be said that as long as it’s not highly toxic, she’s willing to taste it.)

***

Naili’s attic was cramped but tidy, situated on the top floor of the Oak Barrel Bar.

The air was thick with the scents of aged wood, beer malt, and a faint soapiness from the girl’s clothing.

After paying a hefty “temporary lodging fee,” the bar owner—a middle-aged, beer-bellied man—finally agreed to let the two “distant cousins of Naili” stay for a few days.

By flickering candlelight, Naili carefully tended the burn on Ellen’s chest from a Magic Missile.

Her touch was gentle, but her gaze kept drifting to Ellen’s face, filled with mounting curiosity and disbelief.

Finally, as if making up her mind, she spoke timidly but with conviction:

“I… I can’t be wrong.”

I’ve had this ability since I was a child. I never forget a face or thing I’ve seen.

She looked up, her golden eyes shining in the candlelight, meeting Ellen’s gaze.

“You are the Philosopher Mage, Lord Ellen.”

In the center of the Duke’s Capital square stands a group of statues.

That man… looks exactly like you.

And…

Her gaze shifted to Jocelyn, clad in black heavy armor in the corner.

“He is Lord Barbaros, Master of Destruction. It’s said he died in battle so the squad could move forward…

Didn’t you perish together with the Demon King in the Demon Sealing Battle three years ago?”

The air froze instantly.

A faint metallic scrape came from Jocelyn’s heavy armor.

Ellen’s heart skipped, but his face remained composed.

He gently pushed Naili’s hand aside, pulled the coarse cloth shirt over his chest, and showed a gentle, honest smile.

“You’ve mistaken me, little one. My name is Li Qiuchen, from the Northlands of the continent.”

As for him…

He pointed at the heavy armor.

“He’s no Master of Destruction.”

He walked to the armor, knocked on the cold chestplate, and said teasingly,

“Squad Four, don’t be so mysterious. Come out and show this kind-hearted young lady, or she’ll keep letting her imagination run wild.”

Under Naili’s startled gaze, the heavy black armor gave a soft “kakaka” sound.

The chest and helmet segments slowly opened, folded, and retracted like a living creature, finally shrinking into a simple black box.

From the terrifying War Machine, a lively girl with a high ponytail and a few freckles on her cheeks emerged.

Jocelyn stretched with a yawn, then flashed a bright smile at the stunned Naili, revealing a pair of cute little tiger teeth.

“Hi! I’m Jocelyn. Cool, isn’t it? I’m a die-hard fan of Lord Barbaros! I spent all my savings to buy this imitation from a Black Market Merchant—isn’t it super realistic?”

Naili stared at the vibrant girl, so close to her own age, then at the exquisitely designed armor that was far from a simple replica.

Barbaros, the mysterious member of the Demon-Sealing Squad, was said to have many followers.

Such an explanation seemed plausible.

At last, her gaze turned to the black-haired, black-eyed young man who called himself Li Qiuchen.

Her never-forget-a-face ability told her this face was identical to the Philosopher Mage Ellen’s statue.

But… if they were the legendary heroes, why deny it?

And why were they here, in such a wretched state?

Reason and perception clashed violently within her, leaving her in turmoil.

She wished so much that the man before her was the omnipotent Philosopher Mage of legend, so he could help her out of her predicament and maybe even help her find Nai De.

“But… your face… The statue is made of Black Iron, and from a distance, the faces of the Five Heroes aren’t very clear, but I looked carefully, very carefully, and your face and El—”

Naili tried to insist.

“There are many people on the continent who look alike.”

Li Qiuchen interrupted her, his tone calm and unquestionable.

“As for those two Demon Sealing heroes you mentioned, they’ve already fallen. I admire them as well. If you mistake me for the great Philosopher Mage, I’m honored.”

Li Qiuchen smiled and shrugged.

“But we are Li Qiuchen and Jocelyn—just two ordinary people caught in a bit of trouble.”

His gaze was deep and sincere, with a touch of weary realism.

Li Qiuchen’s greatest strength was that he could lie without so much as a blush or a skipped heartbeat—sometimes with such conviction that others believed him.

Naili looked at him, then at Jocelyn making funny faces, and for the first time, her certainty wavered.

Maybe… she really was overthinking.

Maybe she just hoped someone would appear to save her.

The resurrection of dead heroes—how could such a thing be possible?

“O-okay… I’m sorry, I was rude, Mr. Li Qiuchen, Miss Jocelyn.”

Naili lowered her head, deciding to temporarily accept the explanation, though the seed of doubt in her heart did not fade.

“There’s no offense at all.

On the contrary, being mistaken for such a great hero makes me rather happy.”

Li Qiuchen replied with a smile, then corrected gently,

“But since I’m your cousin now, you should call me Brother Qiuchen.”

“Y-yes, Brother Qiuchen.”

The girl’s face blushed, radiating warmth.

“And Sister Jocelyn.”

At that moment, amidst the noise from the bar below, a few drunken conversations drifted up:

“…Did you hear? The livestock at Old John’s place on the east side of town went crazy again last night. They had to kill it…”

“Again? This place is getting more cursed…”

“Shh! Quiet! Don’t let ‘him’ hear…”

“What are you afraid of?!”

Someone shouted discontentedly.

“The Mayor has already gone to the city for the Temple Mage. Soon… soon the problem will be solved for good.”

Jocelyn’s smile faded.

She met Li Qiuchen’s eyes, both seeing the seriousness within.

It seemed this peaceful town hid far greater problems than a single wastrel.

And the two “ordinary people” had already been swept into the storm.

“All right, everyone, curfew is coming. In fifteen minutes, the Patrol Squad will be here. Anyone who’s had enough to drink, best head home.”

Boss Tide knocked on the long table, addressing the crowd.

“Hey! Tide, since when does a tavern owner chase away customers?”

A man leaning against the bar protested, slamming his wooden mug.

“White, if you could pay your tab, I’d gladly let you sleep here all night. Thanks for your patronage—fifteen Tucker.”

Tide used his big belly to nudge open the cabinet door, waving for the others to leave.

After a brief commotion, the lower floor fell silent.

The tavern owner Tide pulled the round bar from the door, securing it for the night.

Night deepened.