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Chapter 15: The Hero Appears? (1)
A moment ago, Rough had caught the bottle Michael had thrown.
Jack Daniel’s.
The whiskey bottle was distinctive—its thick, rough glass gave it a substantial weight, even the sound of tapping against wood felt dense. And yet, despite being struck on the head with it while still more than half full, Wesley remained unscathed.
I’ve thought it before…
This was a very bad sign.
“What are you talking about?”
Tenesia tilted her head at Rough’s sudden words.
“You mean his life is in danger? Is someone targeting him?”
“No, it’s not like that.”
“Then?”
“It’s because of the Stigmata.”
“The Stigmata?”
The Stigmata—marks that appeared on saints awakened to divine power—could manifest physically or mentally. The severity varied, but in extreme cases, they could endanger the bearer’s life, making careful management imperative.
“Are you saying… the crown prince has awakened?”
“Yes.”
“Wow…”
Anyone familiar with Liechtenstein’s nobility would know which god resided in him.
“This could indeed be dangerous.”
Eldite, the god of destruction and annihilation. No one could predict what kind of Stigmata his godly power would leave on Wesley. But one thing was certain:
“If mishandled, he could be consumed by Eldite.”
Eldite’s Stigmata was not something to be taken lightly.
“That’s why I’m telling you this.”
Tenesia wondered why Rough would share such matters with her.
“As a fellow awakened, I need your help, Lady Tenesia.”
The Frost Empress of the North, Tenesia, was herself a saint using the power of Etius, goddess of storms and frost.
“I dare to ask, risking impertinence, but could your grace kindly instruct Crown Prince Wesley on how to manage his Stigmata?”
Though awakened at a young age, she was known to manage her own Stigmata well. Perhaps she could help Wesley too.
“But has it manifested?”
“It’s hard to say with certainty, but the likelihood is high.”
“So it’s not confirmed?”
“No.”
“Do you know what kind of Stigmata it is?”
“My knowledge is incomplete; I cannot say definitively.”
“I see. Then I shall confirm it myself—those who bear Stigmata know them best.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
“…Wait a moment.”
Tenesia’s curiosity was piqued.
“Why do you concern yourself with this?”
She knew little of the kingdom’s internal affairs, and as far as she was aware, no noble had dealings with the crown prince—or followed him closely.
“Well…”
Rough hesitated before replying.
“Surprisingly, the crown prince isn’t such a bad person.”
“I see.”
Tenesia had no intention of interfering deeply; this was someone else’s matter, and she had no right to meddle unnecessarily.
“Very well, then.”
Still, she could not ignore a subject acting out of concern for his ruler.
“Let’s at least take a look.”
She resolved to offer what little help she could.
“Joining you? Why… are you here?”
“I thought we were just visiting?”
In truth, superficially, it was a visit—so Wesley momentarily lost his words.
“Yes, I came to visit, but I just want to stay quiet.”
“Quietly eat and talk, then leave—what’s the problem?”
Why was he acting like this?
“Are you lonely these days?”
“I’m not, thank you.”
“Then why do you want to be around women?”
“For your sake, brother.”
“Don’t use that as an excuse to satisfy your own desires.”
“Call it whatever you like, but won’t you at least go talk to her?”
Faced with Rough’s persistent urging, Wesley peeked toward Tenesia’s table. There, he saw her shimmering silver hair and Teneb waving cheerfully, full of childlike innocence.
“Even for the sake of a child wanting to speak to His Highness, go ahead.”
“…Sigh.”
He didn’t want to, but the imploring gaze from beneath the snowman mask left him no choice. He rose.
“I’ll just eat and leave. I’m busy, after all.”
“That’s what I hoped, brother.”
As Wesley approached Tenesia’s table:
“Here! Here! Here!”
Each step closer only made Teneb’s excitement louder. Wesley caught a glimpse of Tenesia glancing back, her pale mask adorned with three teardrop-shaped frost marks under her right eye.
…Her silhouette feels familiar…
Earlier, he had been too flustered to notice, but now it seemed oddly recognizable. A face flickered behind the mask, yet he could not place it.
Where have I seen her…?
At that moment, Tenesia stood and extended her hand.
“Pleasure to meet you.”
Since the festival was meant for masked anonymity, formal introductions were unnecessary.
“Likewise.”
A simple greeting, lips curling slightly to substitute for a proper introduction.
Hands met.
Clasp!
The moment they touched, Tenesia’s hand flinched away.
“…Huh?”
Observing Wesley, Tenesia thought: He’s not unattractive.
It was her first time seeing him in person. She had expected a slovenly ruffian but instead found someone well-dressed, if lacking taste in masks.
“You’re awake! He’s awake!”
“Calm down. Don’t get overexcited.”
Teneb, unable to go out much due to illness, had learned about the world through books, especially tales of heroes helping the weak. Seeing Wesley fight villains at an inn felt like a storybook epic.
“This is just the start of a heroic saga!”
Tenesia felt uneasy.
“Teneb, don’t get carried away. We didn’t bring a priest to keep it secret.”
Teneb’s heart condition required caution. Overexcitement could be dangerous. Today, his recent improvement and birthday wish had allowed them to journey to the festival.
“Breathe deeply.”
“Fuu… fuu…”
Even with a priest’s advice that extreme excitement could be dangerous, vigilance was necessary.
“Here! Here! Here!”
“Teneb!”
“…Alright…”
Tenesia turned to meet Wesley’s eyes. So this is the crown prince.
She extended her hand.
“Pleasure to meet you.”
Again, no formal introduction, but each knew who the other was.
I’ve been asked for help…
As their hands met:
Smack!
The force made Wesley instinctively pull back.
…What was that?
Was this some kind of challenge? Breaking a stranger’s hand at first contact—surely insane.
“Did I offend you?” Tenesia asked, clearly embarrassed.
Unintentional…
It became clear—the Stigmata. Eldite’s destructive power could not leave the body unaffected. Likely, his body had evolved to match the divine force—but uncontrolled, it was dangerously unstable.
He’s in a far riskier state than I thought.
Still only a guess, but the pronounced effect made it almost certain. She herself had experienced side effects of divine power.
“Um… what should I call you… sir? If uncomfortable, we can step back.”
“N-nuna?”
Tenesia had reflexively acted to prevent Wesley from crushing Teneb’s hand.
Lucky for the mask…
Otherwise, he might have seen through the excuse.
“You never change, brother. Always ignoring the lady.”
Rough nudged Wesley to prevent tension from escalating.
“What do you mean I ignored her?”
“You know by your actions.”
“What did I do?”
“You never realize your mistakes.”
“I’m asking what I did wrong…”
“Waiter! Merge these tables, please.”
“Hey! I was talking… ugh, never mind.”
Wesley gave up first.
The tables merged. Wesley, now seated, felt unbearably awkward.
Why did it come to this?
Across from him, a woman glared, beside her a small child stared without eating.
Is this kid trying to kill me with kindness?
Rough had created this mess, and Wesley resented him.
“Um… could we shake hands?”
Teneb asked timidly.
“Shake hands?”
“Yes! Meeting a hero is my dream!”
“Hero…?”
He hadn’t done anything heroic, yet here he was.
“Oh, is that not allowed?”
“No, of course not.”
Adults oblige a child’s request. As Wesley reached for Teneb’s hand, Tenesia struck it away.
“Eh?”
“Uh…”
The sudden action froze both of them.
“Sir? If this is uncomfortable, please say so.”
Wesley was irritated but knew her excuse was false. He had intended to let it slide for Rough’s sake.
“I’m human; this situation is not comfortable.”
He needed to conserve his energy for more important matters.
Better to leave now.
He could not afford to waste time. Protecting Myer meant departing was priority.
“Is this uncomfortable for you?”
“…Ah.”
Tenesia herself was not upset; she had only reacted reflexively. Yet, how could she explain? Discussing Stigmata now would be awkward, revealing her identity impossible.
“Ah… sorry, I didn’t intend that.”
She glanced at Rough.
“Right, brother. A small misunderstanding…”
He caught her gaze and intervened, but…
“Misunderstanding? Forget it.”
Too late to undo.
“I’ll rest upstairs; you two enjoy yourselves.”
Wesley rose toward the second floor. Tenesia and Rough did not stop him.
“Damn.”
“Apologies. I was distracted by the Stigmata…”
At that moment, Teneb leapt up:
“…Hate you!”
Shivering, tears streaming down, he cried.
“You could have shaken hands! Why not?”
“Teneb… that’s…”
“I know you love heroes… why stop me?”
The louder he shouted, the more labored his breath became.
“Teneb! Calm down. Let me explain—”
“Today I can do what I want! Why not let me?!”
“Please, breathe, calm yourself. You might—”
“I want to do what I want! Like everyone else…”
Huff!
He collapsed, exhausted. Tenesia embraced him.
“Teneb!”
His heart condition was triggered from overexcitement.
“N-nuna… my chest…”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take you to the cathedral!”
“My chest… it hurts…”
“Hold on! I’ll get you there quickly…”
Suddenly, Wesley appeared over Teneb, pouring cold water on him.
“What… is this…?”
