After running for quite a while, a narrow alley appeared ahead. I had wanted to stick to the main road and avoid places like this, but now, it’s become troublesome.
“Hehehe! Where do you think you’re going?”
“Noble Lady looks exhausted, and wouldn’t you know it, we just happen to know a nice spot to rest. Not far, just nearby.”
At this moment, the owners of the footsteps following behind finally revealed themselves. I’d secretly hoped these scoundrels would just give up and wander off, and even felt a bit relieved—but it seems they’re not that clever.
Nor are we that lucky.
“Wait a minute.”
“Yeah, I’ve got something to say. Didn’t you hear me telling you to stop?”
The voices from behind were probably two men, likely sitting in the farthest corner of the tavern earlier, just as we had been.
Turning around, sure enough, it was as I suspected. Though I couldn’t see their faces in the darkness, the two men looked rather sturdy, each with a Short Dagger and Potion at the waist—one also carried a Longsword, the other an Axe.
No need to look closely to know they were just the usual street thugs. How’s Evelyn doing now?
“……” Glancing at the girl propped up beside me, a faint scent of her hair drifted into my nose. Evelyn was already slipping into a Dream-Talk State, half asleep and half awake. Erica felt a little dazed; perhaps that was a good thing.
The girl likewise drew her Short Dagger for self-defense and coldly warned, “You’d best not provoke us. Just let us leave quietly—it’s for everyone’s benefit. If you knew who she was, your fate might be worse than death.”
After hearing Erica’s words, the men exchanged a glance, then burst out laughing, as if they were comedy actors who’d rehearsed this scene ahead of time. They even bent over with exaggerated laughter.
The man on the left drew his Longsword amid laughter and sneered, “They all say that. Always, ‘Oh, do you know who I am? Who my Young Lady is?’ Pff, of course we know. Isn’t she just a Noble Lady? Some Great Lady curious enough to sneak out of her boudoir at midnight.”
“A naughty young lady sneaking out of her fancy mansion, not even bringing a guard, right? So, are you the Maid or her bodyguard—think you can take us on?”
“That’s right, we’re a Professional Team. Time to teach the naughty Great Lady a lesson. Heh, it’s nothing serious, just earning some Ransom and having a bit of fun. All for the sake of giving them a little warning.”
“Oh, how noble and selfless! Boss, tie me up too!”
“Sorry! I only tie up pretty Great Ladies.”
“Well, can’t be helped then.”
“Yeah, guess there’s no helping it.”
Professional? Is courting death considered a profession now?
Judging by their conversation, they seemed pretty experienced. But it’s hard to say who’d learn their lesson tonight—maybe neither side. In fact, maybe the real question is whether it’s the dead or the living who’ll remember this.
Trying to treat a Noble Lady like some remote farming resource—unfortunately for them, what they’ve run into is a goddess-tier defense… No, the girl in my arms would be closer to a Fountain Defense Tower.
Recently, I’d heard about a gang attacking nobles for Ransom. Seems like this must be the lot.
I’d read about such incidents in the papers and reports lately—the name was… what was it… Ah, Black Robe Gang, that’s right.
If these men really are with the Black Robe Gang, this is both amusing and fortunate. But they’re clearly just small fry. There’s little value in what I can learn from them, so honestly, killing them would be a waste of time.
Better get out of here before Evelyn wakes up and ruins everything.
“Heheh, don’t think about leaving.”
“You want to go without dying first? Bah! You think you can leave without being tied up by me?”
The two men skillfully blocked both entrances to the alley, proving their reputation for quick work wasn’t undeserved. If I want to get away, it’ll probably have to be by force. But Erica is terrible at fighting.
Don’t elves have some innate talents? Maybe a Transformation Spell or two—can I turn them into sheep?
“Heh, whether you’re a servant or a slave, just leave the young lady and we’ll let you go.”
“No, boss, I snuck a look—she’s not bad-looking herself.”
“Idiot, if she doesn’t leave, who’s going to run home and send word? Otherwise, we tied up the lady for nothing!”
Maybe because they saw Erica hesitating, the men assumed it was fear and tried to persuade her to leave Evelyn behind.
If I abandon Evelyn, I get to live? Suddenly, a troubling question that had bothered Erica for a long time came surging up.
If she really had to choose between Evelyn’s life and her own—just like right now, forced to sell out Evelyn for her own survival—what would she choose?
“Mmm… Erica, it’s so noisy…” Supported by the girl, Evelyn gradually began to wake from her sleep.
This is bad—the Cleaning Worker coming to mop up tomorrow will probably cry!
If Evelyn sees this, those guys are as good as dead. Evelyn might lose herself to the thrill of killing, turning into a mad queen—Evelyn the Mad Queen! The logic chain is complete!
Just as Erica was pondering “How to Beg Would-Be Kidnappers Not to Die in Front of You,” she noticed some movement.
“That’s enough. Trying to bully two helpless ladies?” Someone stepped from the shadowy exit of the alley, accompanied by a “creak, creak” noise behind him. In the moonlight, he looked tall and skinny, his beard like a broom.
And what he held in his hand—rather than a unique weapon, it was clearly a farm tool—a Plow.
Ah—I remember now.
It’s the Plow Hero.
“And who are you?”
“Plow?”
With the newcomer’s appearance, the human traffickers’ attention turned at once. But as the Plow Hero calmly lifted the weapon from the ground to rest on his shoulder, one of them began to tremble, his lips shaking: “…That guy is Daltu, the Plow Hero—Daltu. He’s… that level of Hero. We can’t beat him… Quick, go get the boss.”
“Hero? Crap, we’re doomed. Hey, three-on-three, nobody cheat! Look, I’ll go call for backup. You’re dead meat!” Maybe fearing the Hero’s strength, the kidnappers who’d been threatening them just now fled at lightning speed.
Watching their retreating backs, Daltu—the so-called “Plow Hero”—put his weapon away and sighed. “This city is full of scoundrels. A little threat and they run for it. Are you two ladies alright?”
“Thanks to you, Sir Daltu, we’re safe. Please rest assured, you’ll be handsomely rewarded.” Erica tried to express her gratitude, but the Hero waved his hand, “Helping citizens is a Hero’s duty. No need for rewards.”
“……”
“However, I recognized those guys’ faces. They’re with the infamous Black Robe Gang that’s been in the news lately. Before they bring their so-called ‘boss,’ we’d better move elsewhere.”
The “Plow Hero” led the two of them to a nearby hideout, avoiding further trouble before the situation escalated. Since they were heading in the same direction, there was no choice but to follow for now.
Along the way, Daltu struck up a conversation: “You didn’t abandon your mistress and run. Most people would choose to save themselves in that situation. Looks like the young lady is someone important? A Baron’s daughter? Or a Viscount’s?”
“Well, that’s a secret.”
“I see. Still, this is your fault as the Maid. On a dark and windy night, bringing a Noble Lady out without proper guards is bound to attract trouble.”
Though Erica was frustrated at being scolded, she had to admit he was right. But what could she do? She was at her wits’ end.
She’d already expected something like this to happen. It was all Evelyn’s fault for insisting on going out alone at night. Her stubbornness had become impossible to dissuade, and the villainess’s temper was getting even stronger lately.
Just as the girl pouted, thinking, “If I don’t do something…”—the Plow Hero, Daltu, suddenly spoke up again. “So, are you really a Half-Elf?”
“Eh?”
“Sorry, I overheard your conversation in the tavern earlier. I also noticed some unsavory types following you out, so I… Well, I was a little curious about what they said about the Half-Elf.”
“Ah—”
But today was the first time I’d heard I was a Half-Elf myself, so I had no idea how to explain. In the original novel, Half-Elves weren’t mentioned much, so there were no memorable features either.
As Erica struggled to come up with an excuse, the Plow Hero continued, “I’ve heard most Half-Elves are female, and they’re becoming rarer because, well, the women don’t have that ‘function.’ Is that true?”
Daltu added, a little awkward, “Ah, I was just curious, that’s all.” He seemed to want the girl not to take it to heart, but she had no idea why he’d ask such a thing.
“When you say they don’t have that ‘function,’ what do you mean?”
“Like a Mule. From birth, Mules are Sterile. That’s the sad result of crossing a horse with a donkey. Human selfishness made these Mixed-Bloods. Are you like that? Are you also missing that function?”
“So you mean… are you asking if I can ‘reproduce’?”
“Yeah, can you get pregnant?”
Come on, who asks if someone has ‘fertility issues’ the first time they meet? If this were my old self before I transmigrated and gender-bent, I’d have clobbered you with a Mars Uppercut!
What an ill-mannered man!
I thought being a Hero would mean he had some refinement, but it turns out he’s just like most people in this world—not particularly gentlemanly.
At this moment, Evelyn slowly opened her eyes, darker than the night, her voice colder than a February wind.
“Despicable hypocrite, do not insult Erica.”