Chapter 48

Atis was a town situated in the northwest of the Liber Kingdom. While not particularly large or quite small enough to be called the "backwoods," it was a scenic land lush with greenery. On clear days, it offered a panoramic view of the massive, several-thousand-meter-high mountain range stretching out beyond the lake.

In one corner of this town stood a small diner. It was just past the lunch rush, and the customers were sparse. Amidst the quiet, a single young girl was raising her voice in a resentful whine.

"Ugh, why won't they let me through!?"

Sitting at the counter, the girl had been repeating the same complaint for some time, despite being perfectly sober.

Perhaps unable to bear the sight any longer, the owner of the diner called out to her.

"You seem dreadfully upset, missy."

"I have every right to be! I came all the way to Atis, only to be stalled right at the finish line..."

"Stalled? By what?"

"I want to go there."

The girl answered while pointing out the window toward the summit of Mount Giran, the icon of the mountain range.

The owner reacted with exaggerated shock.

"Wh-what!? Missy, you’re planning on entering the Mount Giran snowfields?"

"I am. What of it?"

"Drop it! I don't know what you're after, but that mountain is swarming with monsters."

"I know that. I also know entry is restricted. That’s exactly why I hired those guys, and yet look at them...!"

Recalling the incident made her blood boil all over again.

Mount Giran was one of the largest peaks in the Liber Kingdom, exceeding an altitude of 4,000 meters. From the 1,000-meter mark near the summit, it was perpetually buried in snow. The climb itself was treacherous enough, but the powerful monsters roaming the slopes made it suicidal.

That was why she had hired five mercenaries as guards. Everything had gone smoothly until they reached Atis, but the moment she mentioned climbing Mount Giran, they had scattered like startled spiders.

While their desertion was proof of just how dangerous the task was, she couldn't accept it. She had paid half the reward as a down payment; since they hadn't faced any real danger on the road here, it felt like her money had simply been stolen.

Between the desertion and her stalled plans, the girl—Lifa—was incensed.

"Even the people called the most 'skilled' in this town turned me down..."

Lifa spat the words out, cursing them as spineless cowards.

The owner could only manage a wry smile. Precisely because he lived in Atis, he understood the dangers of Mount Giran down to his bones.

"It can't be helped. To climb Mount Giran, you need permission from the Knight Order."

The knights blockading the mountain’s entrance were the ones who decided whether to grant entry. Naturally, permission was never given to anyone with half-hearted combat skills.

Lifa had splurged on mercenaries for that very reason, but since they had fled, she was stuck before the question of "permission" even mattered.

She had come all this way only to be left with no options.

"There's got to be a way in..."

Lifa slumped forward, face-planting onto the counter.

As she wallowed, the shop door opened with a clatter-clatter of the bell. After a brief silence, a stir of murmurs spread through the room.

Sensing the shift in atmosphere, Lifa looked back.

Her first impression was simply: black. A young man stood there, shrouded in a chilling, frigid aura.

The other customers whispered among themselves while watching him from a distance. The air in the room felt heavy and unpleasant.

"Who’s that?" Lifa whispered to the owner, drawn in by the tension.

However, the answer came from an unexpected direction.

"That is Harold Stokes. A swordsman renowned as the finest in this country, holding the alias 'Knight Killer.' Previously, he was known as 'Bad Boy Harold.'"

"Hmm... and who are you?"

"I’m just a humble traveler."

The speaker had a neutral appearance and voice, with gray hair and honey-colored eyes. A large, bulging yellow hat caught the eye. Lifa couldn't tell if the person was a boy or a girl, though they seemed to be around her age.

"More importantly, Harold Stokes is famous for his notoriety. Surely you’ve heard of him?"

"Regrettably, that fame hasn't reached the village where I live."

To be precise, Lifa was an eccentric who was isolated in her home village, so she rarely heard rumors of the outside world. She was voracious regarding things that interested her but completely tuned out everything else. This was the first time she had ever heard the name "Knight Killer."

However, to Lifa, his reputation was irrelevant. Only one point mattered.

"You said he’s the strongest swordsman in the country. Is he really that powerful?"

"Indeed. It’s said he can take on dozens of elite knights at once and win without a scratch. His strength is supposedly on par with the current Commander, Vincent."

"So, he’s basically at the top of the food chain."

Lifa’s eyes gleamed with a predatory light.

If he was that strong, she might actually be able to get permission to enter Mount Giran.

"Whoa, hold on, missy. You aren't thinking..."

The owner tried to intervene, sensing her intent, but his warning went completely ignored.

Lifa stood up with a burst of energy and strode over to stand directly in front of Harold.

Standing only 140 centimeters tall, Lifa had to crane her neck to look up at Harold, who stood at least 180. Despite the massive physical gap, she didn't look intimidated in the slightest.

"Got a minute?"

"...Who are you?"

"I’m Lifa. You’re Harold, right?"

"..."

Harold didn't bother to confirm or deny; he simply remained silent.

However, his face contorted with a bitter grimace. Based on what the traveler had said, he was famous—perhaps he hated being recognized?

Pushing the thought aside, Lifa got straight to the point.

"I’ve got a job for you, Harold. I’ll pay you, of course."

"A job?"

"That’s right. I want you to be my guard and climb Mount Giran with me!"

◇

Walnut-colored hair tied in pigtails. A blouse paired with a red checkered mini-skirt and knee-high socks—an outfit that screamed "calculated cuteness." And most distinctively, she wore a white lab coat that reached her knees.

Lifa Goodridge.

Harold had just run into the original character known as the "genius inventor" and the "token loli" of the protagonist’s party. To make matters worse, she was trying to hire him as a bodyguard.

(I just came here to eat, how the hell did it end up like this...?)

Lifa belonged in Weiss Village, not here in Atis. He wasn't sure what she was doing here, but as a man currently on duty, Harold had no reason to accept her request.

Except, as luck would have it, his destination was also Mount Giran.

He looked down at Lifa. There was only a three-year age gap between them, yet the height difference made them look like an adult and a child. Despite her small stature, she stared boldly into his eyes. Even the two cowlicks sticking up from her head seemed to radiate confidence.

"A brat like you, climbing that mountain? Don’t make me laugh."

"I’m fifteen, for your information!"

He knew that. Despite her stunted physical development, she was indeed fifteen. That was how her profile was set.

"And what is your goal? There are no toys or playgrounds on that mountain."

"I need biological data on the Ice Dragon (Hydra). And samples, if I can get them."

At Lifa’s declaration, the entire diner fell into a stunned silence.

The Ice Dragon was the master of Mount Giran—the area's boss monster. Most mercenaries and knights would be lucky to escape being slaughtered by it. In the game, a party at level 20 could take it down normally, but that assumed a full group. For Lifa to challenge it alone was essentially suicide.

In fact, it was doubtful she could even reach the dragon on her own. The encounter rate on Mount Giran was notoriously high. In that sense, asking Harold for protection was actually the most logical choice she could make.

"And why should I care about your request?"

"I’m not forcing you. I’ll just find someone else."

"I doubt you'll find another suicidal volunteer so easily."

"...I’ll wait a month, or even half a year if I have to. I have a reason why I must do this."

He could feel her stubborn resolve. If Harold rejected her, she really would spend months looking for a replacement.

And that would be a problem. The start of the original story was imminent.

If Lifa wasn't in Weiss Village when Rainer and the others arrived, the party’s composition would be ruined. In the game, her joining was the trigger that unlocked the "Synthesis" command.

If she wasn't there, item crafting and weapon strengthening might become impossible. At worst, it could hinder his efforts to stop the miasma in the Sumeragi Territory or foil Justus’s plans. Her knowledge of magic and science was vital to the plot.

Simply put: it was highly inconvenient for Lifa to be stuck in Atis.

If that was the case, he might as well take the job since he was going there anyway, then send her packing back to her village as soon as possible.

"...Fine. If you accept my conditions, I’ll lend you my strength."

"Wait, really!? Yes!"

Lifa cheered, throwing her hands up without even asking what the conditions were. Harold sighed, already dreading the new headache that had just landed in his lap.

But before they could finalize the deal, an interruption came from the side.

"Now, this sounds like an interesting conversation."

It was a voice just as familiar from the game as Lifa’s.

A casquette hat and yellow overalls. No shirt underneath, with only a sarashi wrapped around the chest. A bag stuffed to the brim hung from the shoulder. The person, aged fifteen or sixteen, had a handsome face that could pass for either a beautiful boy or a beautiful girl, wearing a constant, beaming smile.

"If you don't mind, I’d love for you to take me along as well."

The information broker Giffelt had appeared beside them without a sound, his smile never wavering as he made his demand.