The Principle of a Philosopher by Eternal Fool “Asley”

Chapter 9.2, Encounters In Younger Days

Chapter 9.2, Encounters In Younger Days

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That night, Gaston and Billy quietly slipped out of the boys’ dormitory. They headed to the Adventurers’ Guild, where they signed up and waited for Irene’s arrival.

Only a few minutes remained until their rendezvous.

“Gaston,” Billy murmured, his eyes darting nervously over the boisterous crowd of adventurers.

“What is it, Billy?”

“Ever had a drink?”

“Never.”

“Me neither.”

Despite the War Demon Empire’s lack of age restrictions on alcohol consumption, Gaston and Billy had remained diligently focused on their studies.

At their young, impressionable age, the sight of seasoned adventurers reveling in their mugs sparked a flame of curiosity within them.

“We should give it a try sometime,” Gaston proposed.

“S-sure, let’s,” Billy agreed, his face lighting up. “What should we start with?”

“I’ve heard mead is good for beginners. Ale can be pretty bitter.”

“You seem to know a lot.”

“One of the many tips I got from Master Sagan.”

“Master Sagan…? Makes sense– wait, what?”

Billy’s eyes widened in astonishment at the mention of the War Demon Emperor’s name.

“My father served at the royal capital. Master Sagan would occasionally play with me during lunch break. I got to learn a lot of magic spells from him, too.”

“Isn’t that… kind of a big deal?”

“…Yeah, I shouldn’t have brought that up. Forget I said anything.”

“W-why?”

Before Billy could press further, Gaston’s attention shifted to the entrance, where Irene strode in with an air of confidence.

“HER, that’s why. Irene idolizes Master Sagan. She’ll only get jealous if she hears this.”

“Ah, that makes sense. Got it,” Billy sighed, already well-acquainted with the intensity of Irene’s outbursts after just a week.

“What were you two whispering about?” Irene asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously as she approached.

“Just talking about trying a drink sometime,” Gaston replied smoothly.

“Really? You two haven’t tried drinking before?”

“Have you?” Gaston countered, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

“Of course! I’ve been coming to the Adventurers’ Guild since I was a kid. It’s second nature to me,” Irene boasted, puffing out her chest.

Gaston and Billy exchanged glances, their eyes shifting up and down as they assessed her small stature.

[[Yup, still looks like a a kid to me.]]

Unaware of their silent assessment, Irene beamed with pride, completely oblivious to the irony of her statement.

“So, what do you think about grabbing a drink after tonight’s monster hunt?” Gaston suggested.

“Great idea! Nothing beats a drink after a fight!” Irene’s eyes sparkled with eager anticipation.

“Sounds like fun,” Billy agreed.

The trio stood up and made their way to the large bulletin boards where numerous requests were posted.

“By the way, what rank are you two?” Irene asked.

“We just registered, so…” Gaston began.

“…Obviously, we’re rank F,” Billy finished, their voices harmonizing in unison.

For a moment, Irene froze, her eyes wide with disbelief, and then she let out a loud, incredulous,

“WHAT?”

Gaston chuckled at her reaction.

“What rank are you, then?”

“C! I’m rank C! Does that mean I have to babysit you two!?” Irene exclaimed, exasperation clear in her voice as she clutched her head in her hands.

Gaston thought for a moment, then leaned in to whisper to Billy.

Irene, absorbed in her moment of despair, didn’t notice their quiet exchange.

“How about we split up?” Gaston suggested, turning his attention back to Irene.

“Huh?”

“Yeah, Irene, you can take on a rank C quest, and we’ll handle an F-ranked one,” Billy added with a grin.

“HUH?”

Ignoring her stunned expression, Gaston and Billy quickly picked a random quest from the board and headed toward the guild’s reception desk.

“Let’s go, Gaston.”

“Right behind you, Billy.”

Leaving a bewildered Irene behind, the two young men approached the receptionist, their steps sure and purposeful.

“Hey, wait a minute!” Irene called out, a mix of frustration and disbelief coloring her tone as Gaston and Billy turned their backs on her.

Sharing a conspiratorial smile, they ensured their amusement was hidden from her view.

Despite having only been in school for a week, Irene’s intense presence had already made a lasting impression on their minds, and they could predict her reaction with uncanny accuracy.

“YOu know what? Fine! I’ll look after you!” Irene’s declaration rang out behind them, as expected.

The young men wrapped their arms around each other’s shoulders, chuckling as they exited the Adventurers’ Guild.

“Hey, wait up!”

Despite her exasperated shout, there was a trace of happiness in Irene’s voice as she hurried after them.

??????????

“Three zombies,” Gaston muttered, his eyes scanning the request form in his hands.

“This one is two killer bees,” Billy added, his voice a bit uncertain as he held up his own form.

“You know, you can take up to three quests at a time. It’s a waste not to,” Irene chimed in, her tone laced with a hint of superiority, completely forgetting that she too had once hesitated to take on more than one quest at once.

“We know that,” Gaston replied. “But getting accustomed to the process is more important right now.”

“Exactly. We need to learn the ropes before diving into more,” Billy concurred, nodding in agreement.

Gaston and Billy seemed perfectly in sync, moving as one cohesive unit.

It was Irene who struggled to keep up with them.

“Ugh, boys are such a hassle!” she exclaimed in exasperation.

“Irene, you’re the real hassle,” Gaston remarked dryly.

“Yeah, Irene, you’re a hassle,” Billy echoed, unable to resist joining in.

“Hey! That sounds like an insult!”

“It was an insult.”

“Right, I didn’t stutter, did I?”

Irene glared at them, a vein throbbing on her forehead to underscore her frustration.

However, she found herself at a loss for words against their bluntness.

As they worked through their quests, the three often offered opinions and clashed, but it was invariably Irene against Gaston and Billy.

Despite their unbalanced dynamic, they complemented one another in an oddly effective manner, continuing their quests until the dawn of the next day.

“Impressive. You two reached rank E in just one day,” the guild receptionist praised.

Gaston and Billy simply nodded, their expressions modest, while Irene puffed out her chest proudly.

“Why are you bragging?”

“You were just shouting orders from behind.”

“I was supervising! It’s thanks to my oversight that we succeeded!” she retorted.

“Is that so?” Gaston turned to Billy, his expression skeptical.

“First I’ve heard of it,” Billy replied, mirroring Gaston’s expression.

“Enough! Come on, we’re having a drink! It’s on me, the RANK C adventurer Irene!” she declared, striking a triumphant pose.

Gaston and Billy raised their hands in refusal, shaking their heads.

“We’re equals. No need for unnecessary gestures.”

“Agreed.”

Irene’s deflated expression was fleeting. She quickly regained her haughty demeanor, muttering under her breath,

“…How cheeky.”

??????????

The morning sun of the second weekend day bathed Beilanea in a gentle glow. In a cozy corner of the Guild, the three young adventurers celebrated their first successful round of missions.

The clink of their mugs, a sound that resonated with their shared sense of satisfaction and anticipation, filled the air.

Gaston and Billy’s mugs brimmed with sweet mead, while Irene’s contained a frothy ale.

With a hearty cheer, they downed their drinks in one go.

“Sweet!” Gaston and Billy exclaimed in unison, their faces lighting up with enjoyment.

“Bitter!” Irene grimaced, scratching her neck in discomfort.

“What.”

“Didn’t you say you’d had drinks before?”

“Only mead!” she confessed, her face twisted in distaste.

Gaston and Billy exchanged exasperated glances.

“She probably just wanted to show off,” Gaston said, rolling his eyes.

Billy nodded in agreement. But Irene wasn’t one to back down easily.

“Hmph! This is the taste of adulthood! Maybe it’s a bit too early for you two!” Irene declared, holding up her empty mug defiantly and looking down on the young men with a superior air.

“Oh really? We’ll see about that!”

“Let’s find out whose palate is more refined!”

Irene’s bold challenge backfired as the young men took her words seriously.

“Uh, wait, hold on a sec!”

“Three ales over here!”

“And the first to cave pays the tab!”

“Wait a minute! I thought you said we were all equals here?”

“Equal in what?” Gaston smirked.

“In competitions, there’s no such thing as equality,” Billy added with a mischievous grin.

“Gah…!” Irene’s protest was cut short as three mugs of ale were promptly placed on their table.

A brief, tense moment later, the guild echoed with simultaneous exclamations of…

“”BITTER!””

??????????

By the afternoon, the streets of the city seemed to tilt and sway as Gaston found himself practically carrying Billy back toward the Magic University.

“What kind of monster is she? She drank that ale like it was water…” Gaston groaned.

“Ha! She certainly showed no ladylike qualities. She even said she wanted more… ugh,” Billy clutched his stomach.

“Hey, don’t throw up on my shoulder! Aim for the ground!” Gaston urged, guiding Billy towards a nearby alley.

Billy’s face was ghastly pale, and he looked on the verge of losing whatever remained in his stomach.

“I told you, we should’ve used a Recover spell,” Gaston muttered.

“No… I need to experience this… fully…!” Billy insisted, his voice weak but determined.

The Recover magic spell would have sobered Billy up in an instant, but youthful curiosity and stubbornness had compelled him to endure the full effects of his first real drinking experience. Gaston himself, though feeling equally miserable, shared in the sentiment.

Gaston leaned his heated body against the wall. Up above, he saw the bright, blue sky. Down here, however, was a dimly lit back alley. Gaston felt seized by a strange sensation in this realm of contrasting light and darkness.

“The world is truly fascinating,” he mused aloud, but then he noticed that Billy had already succumbed to unconsciousness, collapsing beside him.

A small, quick shadow darted across Gaston’s field of vision, drawing his attention.

“What was that?” he muttered.

The shadow stopped as if in response to his voice. The sunlight shifted, and the alley was soon illuminated. A skinny white creature appeared before Gaston’s eyes.

“A mouse, huh?”

Observing the starving rodent, something clicked in Gaston’s memory.

[Oh yeah, I think Irene’s drunkenly stuffed a piece of bread into Billy’s pocket…]

Gaston carefully reached into Billy’s coat, retrieving the neglected bread.

“Sorry to disturb you, but we’ll be resting here for a while. Consider this your rent,” Gaston said, placing the bread in front of the mouse.

The mouse hesitated, eyeing Gaston warily before cautiously approaching the bread. It began nibbling, its desperation evident in the speed with which it devoured the morsel.

“I see you’ve been hungry,” Gaston said, gazing back up at the sky.

“Squeak!” the mouse cried out in a surprisingly loud voice, quickly finishing the bread and then circling Gaston’s feet in what appeared to be a gesture of gratitude.

“Heh, cheeky little thing,” Gaston remarked, amused by the mouse’s behavior.

From that day forward, whenever Gaston passed through the alley on his way back from a hunt, he made it a point to feed the white mouse.

Before long, he named the mouse ‘Konoha,’ though the story between them was one for another time.

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Volume 9 Bonus Story 2 – Interview With A Dangerous Mage

“So… you are Ishtar?”

“Yes, Master Sagan. I’ve come because I heard you were seeking capable mages.”

In the grand throne room of Regalia Castle, a space reserved for solemn ceremonies and important audiences, an air of expectancy hung heavy.

Sagan, engaged in his official duties after bidding farewell to Asley, Pochi, and the King Wolf Garm, was now facing a different kind of visitor — a mage called Ishtar.

Kneeling before the throne where Sagan sat, Ishtar spoke with a voice both raspy and rich. Sagan had been informed beforehand that Ishtar was a woman, but her appearance was half a mystery due to the veil she wore.

“Is there a particular reason for the face veil?” Sagan inquired, his gaze steady as he observed the way the veil concealed her face below the eyes.

“My apologies, Master Sagan. My face is too hideous to show to someone as great as yourself,” Ishtar replied.

“I see. Very well, then. So, what CAN you show me?”

His words were not merely a question but a subtle command. Ishtar’s eyes narrowed, and her lips curled into a faint, enigmatic smile.

“If you’ll excuse me–” she began, her voice trailing off as she rose gracefully to her feet.

With an air of practiced elegance, Ishtar began to invoke a spell, her gaze locking onto Sagan’s.

It wasn’t just her eyes that were directed at him; the Spell Circle she conjured was as well.

Realizing this, Sagan stood up from his throne.

His aides moved forward to intervene. However, with a raised hand, Sagan signaled them to halt.

“Fire,” Ishtar intoned, her eyes gleaming ominously as she unleashed a formidable fire spell towards Sagan.

In a blink, Sagan’s left hand shot up, effortlessly intercepting the roaring fireball.

“What is the meaning of this?” Sagan asked, his voice calm and unwavering

“What are you doing, you fiend!” one of Sagan’s aides shouted, their face contorted in anger and alarm.

As Sagan held the fireball in his hand, Ishtar’s grin widened. Surrounded by the formidable soldiers of the War Demon Empire, she was acutely aware of her disadvantage. Should Sagan choose, she could be subdued in an instant.

“Well done, War Demon Emperor Sagan,” she said.

“You were testing me?”

“Not at all. I merely demonstrated my abilities, as you requested.”

Sagan’s eyebrow arched in a subtle expression of intrigue.

“Is that so?”

“If I’m not chosen, I will simply leave.”

“”What nonsense!”” the aides exclaimed, their voices rising.

Yet neither Ishtar’s intense gaze nor Sagan’s penetrating stare wavered.

It was as if they were engaged in a silent duel of scrutiny, each assessing the other and asserting dominance with their arcane auras.

The tension had an almost tangible weight, silencing the aides.

“…Very well,” Sagan murmured after a moment.

He proceeded to crush the fireball he had been holding in his hand, reducing it to a harmless puff of smoke.

“”My Lord!”” the aides called out in unison, their concern evident.

“Silence,” Sagan commanded, his voice quiet but firm. The single word restored a semblance of order in the throne room.

“”…!””

“Ishtar, was it?”

“Yes, Master Sagan.”

Ishtar knelt once more.

“That was interesting. You’re hired.”

“”My Lord!””

The aides’ voices echoed in the throne room, a chorus of disbelief.

Despite that, Sagan and Ishtar remained locked in their silent exchange of glances, each probing the other’s intentions.

[This woman… despite everything she’s done, she all but claims she could escape. Her audacity and that little game… impressive. And that magical power of hers is considerable. She seems ambitious, too… I’ll need to keep an eye on her…]

[So, this is the current Emperor, Sagan… He’s not one to be trifled with…!]

This encounter unfolded on the day after Asley and Pochi had returned to their own time.

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