I run into a caravan of wagons up ahead.
They say they’re in a hurry. Should we pull our wagon aside?
“Hmm…”
By my count, there are eleven cargo wagons.
Talk about bad luck. How do we meet another caravan at one of the few crossroads on this wide plain?
It’d be more likely to run into bandits trying to rob us.
Still, what’s done is done. We’re not in a rush, so let them pass. Dragging that long line of wagons behind us sounds exhausting.
“Let them go first.”
“Understood.”
Veil Noah talks to the driver at the front of their caravan.
We pull our wagon back, letting them pass.
That’s when it happens.
“Whoa!”
A wheel on one of their lead wagons collapses, tipping the cargo and spilling boxes everywhere.
“Ugh…”
It’s a sight that makes you want to cover your eyes.
Whatever’s in those boxes, it’s a massive loss.
The boxes burst open, and fist-sized red fruits—crushed from the impact—stain the ground red with bl00d-like juice.
“Oh no, this is bad!”
The driver freaks out, and onlookers groan in dismay.
“Big Bro, what’s going on?”
“Their wagon spilled its load. Looks like fruit.”
Karen sticks her head out the opposite window to check.
“Isn’t that Kellip?”
“What’s Kellip?”
“Super rare fruit. I’ve never seen so much being hauled like that. And it’s all ruined…”
As Karen speaks, our wagon suddenly shakes.
“What the—?”
A sudden stop, now a jolt forward? Are we next?
“What’s happening… ugh!”
I bang my head as the shaking stops.
What’s going on? Their wagon tipped, so why’s ours shaking?
I kick open the wagon door and step out.
One look, and I know what’s up.
An overwhelming fruit scent, like thick fog, chokes the air.
A few breaths, and a strange taste lingers in my m0uth. It’s the aroma of the fancy fruit, Kellip, now smashed on the ground. And this scent’s driving the horses wild.
Our horses, usually calm, lose control and charge toward the fruit pile.
The crossroads turns into a multi-wagon pileup.
Horses break free, wagons veer off, and in the chaos, horses bury their heads in the Kellip, chomping away.
What is this mess?
Both our people and their caravan just stare, dumbfounded, at the horses feasting.
“Decal, sir, I’m sorry. I should’ve kept more distance.”
Veil Noah says.
“Who could’ve predicted this? Not your fault. How do we fix this? Gotta pull the horses back…”
But they don’t look like they’ll listen.
What kind of fruit makes animals go this crazy?
Interrupt their meal, and I bet they’ll kick us hard.
“Cleaning up the spilled Kellip might be faster,” Veil Noah says.
That thought bums me out, but she’s probably right.
“What’s going on here!”
A young w0man’s sharp voice cuts through.
I know instantly she’s the caravan’s boss.
Her outfit’s a flashy evening dress, fit for a fancy party.
Even with her scowl and attitude, you can tell she’s from some high-class family.
Pink hair, meticulously styled down to her back, and sparkling blue eyes.
She’s drop-dead gorgeous, but there’s a vibe—kinda immature.
Despite the chaos, her raw emotions scream spoiled rich girl, not quite a lady.
“Oh no! The Kellip! It was a gift for Father!”
People rush to support the w0man, who’s too shocked to stand steady.
“Miss Diana, calm down!”
“Calm down? Father was so excited for this! Who did this?”
I get a bad feeling, like trouble’s coming my way.
The w0man, Diana, gathers her people, listens to their chatter, then marches straight for Veil Noah and me.
Her gaze pierces like a spear. She wants to talk.
Just as I pegged her as the caravan’s boss, she’s pegged me as ours.
We face each other, whether I like it or not.
Diana plants her hands on her h!ps, glaring up at me.
“Your name and family!”
Name’s one thing, but family?
Veil Noah steps forward, sensing something.
“Decal, sir, I’ll handle this.”
“Executor, step back. I’m talking to him.”
She clocks Veil Noah as an executor in one glance—sharp.
The way she orders around people twice her age tells me her family’s got serious clout.
I keep it polite as I can.
“Name’s Decal. No family, just an adventurer.”
“Hah.”
Diana snorts, like I’m beneath her.
Arms crossed, she eyes me with contempt.
“Adventurer? A lowly drifter dares block the Vanguard caravan?”
“I’m sorry for this unfortunate accident.”
“Sorry?”
Sparks fly from her eyes. Is she gonna eat me alive?
“My people say your horses bolted, startled ours, and caused the spill. If that’s true, you’re the one who’s sorry.”
“…”
She glances at our wagon and keeps going.
“Judging by your cl0thes and wagon, you’re no ordinary adventurer. Some fallen, nameless family? How you gonna make this right?”
Ugh. Our horses startled them?
Sounds like their driver’s spinning lies.
“Misunderstanding. Look at your wagon’s wheel. It collapsed first. Our horses just followed the fruit smell.”
“Misunderstanding? Don’t give me that. Even if you’re right, this isn’t something we can just let slide.”
“Ugh…”
I press my temples and say,
“This is just an accident. Let’s not make a scene and sort it out, Diana…”
Slap!
I’m stunned.
Diana just slapped my cheek.
“Who said you could use my name, you rude b*stard!”
“…”
Veil Noah steps between us.
“Lady Diana, violence only makes things worse.”
“An executor dares talk back to me? Is this guy worth more than your life?”
“Darling!”
Isti rushes to me, checking my cheek with a teary face.
“I’m fine.”
“But…”
That girl’s got a spicy hand.
Felt like fireworks went off in my m0uth.
Even Veil Noah’s flustered, so she must be someone big.
“Noah, step back.”
“Decal, sir.”
“No more playing nice.”
“Think you can touch me? Lay a hand on me, and you’re dead on the spot.”
I stare at Diana.
How should I make her pay for this…?
I muse quietly.
“What’s that look?”
Diana steps back, sensing something off.
Then—
“Diana!”
Someone calls her name, approaching.
“Sis!”
A w0man appears from the back of the caravan.
Looks like Diana’s older sister. Pink hair, bright blue eyes.
But their vibes are worlds apart. If Diana’s a greenhouse flower, her sister’s wild and free.
Her hair’s natural, no makeup, yet her sharp features and clear skin make her stunning.
Tall for a w0man, over 170, with a model-like figure that grabs attention.
She gently pushes her clinging sister aside and steps toward me.
“My sister was rude. Sorry.”
“…”
Her apology cools my anger a bit.
Still not letting this slide, but I’ll see how it plays out.
“Sis, you don’t need to apologize to these people!”
“I know you’re upset, Diana. But you can’t just hit people.”
Diana shrinks under her sister’s words.
“Sorry… he overheard my name and used it so casually…”
Apologize to the guy you hit, not your sister.
Unbelievable.
“Interesting.”
Diana’s sister glances at me.
“An adventurer with an executor and an elf. Didn’t know not to use a noble’s name? Or just fearless?”
“That all you got to say?”
I reply flatly.
“I’d let you go, but we’ve got losses too. Your horses ate our Kellip. Vanguard’s honor is on the line. You’re not blameless.”
So, if animals eat their fruit, we’re liable?
Her intent’s clear now.
“You want us to pay for the spilled Kellip or whatever?”
“Hmm, compensation would be nice. But an adventurer’s income can’t cover it. Market price is 6,800 gold.”
Six thousand what?
For fruit? That’s insane.
“Honestly, that amount’s nothing to us. Just want things settled.”
“Settled?”
“Yeah. Hand over your horses and one driver’s head. That should do it, right, Diana?”
“They all need to pay!”
“I’m no murderer. That’s a bit much.”
Lose 6,800 gold, so kill our horses and pin it on a driver?
I’m shocked.
She’s my age or younger, yet says this like it’s nothing.
First time since arriving here I feel this.
Like meeting someone from another world. Our mindsets, our upbringings—completely different.
What was I doing at her age?
Killing people or horses to settle a score? I couldn’t even watch cows or pigs get slaughtered.
All eyes are on me.
Not just the fancy Vanguard sisters, but Veil Noah, Isti, Karen too.
I’m not nervous, though.
I’m a hypnotist. Twisting lives with a few words is my game.
All for my amusement.
Yeah, let’s have fun.
I’m just reaching into a gift box. No one knows what’s inside.
That thrill—these sisters handed it to me.
“What if I say no?”
“What’s that mean?”
“Means I won’t hand over horses or drivers. And unless I see a real apology, I’m not satisfied.”
“Haha!”
The sister laughs boldly.
“Wow, you from another world or something? First time someone’s talked to me like that.”
“This is why country folk are scary. They’re clueless,” Diana chimes in, annoyed.
They don’t know about hypnosis, fine.
But even in a straight fight, we’d crush them. What’s their confidence?
It’s almost laughable.
“I like your guts. Formal intro: I’m Tilia. Tilia Vanguard. Hero candidate at Melbrit.”
Melbrit’s the hero academy, right?
“When I give my name, you can use it,” Tilia says coolly.
“Didn’t expect a senior. I’m Decal.”
“Hero candidate selection period, huh? That why an executor’s with you?”
“Yes. Decal’s an urgent mission achiever,” Veil Noah says.
“Nice. Diana, get my sword.”
“Yes, Sis!”
Diana scurries off excitedly.
What, we dancing with blades now?
“Decal, you look confused. We disagree, but we both want something. So, we duel.”
“Duel?”
Soon, one of Diana’s lackeys brings a thin, double-handed sword, kneeling before Tilia.
The blade’s curved like a katana.
“I win, I take your horses and driver’s life. You win, we’ll apologize as you want.”
“…”
Finally, things are clear.
I grin, thrilled about the possibilities.