The Banished Black Swordsman Wants a Peaceful Life with the White Saint in the Frontier ~Huh? You Want Him to Come Back with the Saint? It’s Already Too Late~ - 44

Chapter 44: Extra: The Hero’s Struggles

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“Damn it! What the hell have you done, Garo?! You useless fool!”

As soon as the door slammed shut, Julius spat those words out. He stood frozen in the center of the room, assaulted only by regret and anxiety. His breathing was rough. His throat felt scorched and dry. The sweat that had dampened his palms made him vividly recall the slippery sensation when he had gripped the hilt of his sword.

“Elena is just as bad. To blow up at me over something that minor… That’s disrespectful! Who does she think I am…!?”

Saying it didn’t calm him at all. He exhaled sharply, threw himself into a chair, and pressed a hand to his forehead. Through the gaps between his fingers, the scene from earlier rose up again and again, only to shatter each time. Garo’s huge body rolling on the floor, his clothes torn. Fran’s tear-stained face, the onlookers’ stares, and then… Elena’s gaze looking down at him as if he were some kind of vermin.

Elena and Fran had apparently already checked out of the inn and left.

A traveling healer who had happened to be in the tavern on the first floor had taken over Garo’s treatment. The chanting that had been audible from downstairs moments earlier had ceased. He would regain consciousness any minute now. The tavern’s clamor had settled, leaving only the dull sounds of clinking glasses and laughter drifting through the floorboards.

Some time had passed since the argument with Elena. And yet, he couldn’t calm down. The exchange kept swirling through his mind, his emotions chasing each other in circles. Anger, anxiety, humiliation.

Saying “Do as you please” back there had been meant to preserve his dignity as a Hero—or so it should have been—yet the words had come back around to slap him across the face. His dignity was already in ruins, without question.

Every step he had taken down the hallway, stabbing gazes had burned into his back. He could still feel them on his skin. The blatant stares and the ones hidden in the shadows weighed on him equally. So he had at least fixed his expression. He lifted the corners of his mouth, relaxed his brows ever so slightly, and pretended to show the composure befitting a Hero. But the sweat running down his forehead and back mocked his performance, refusing to stop.

Sure, Elena has always been emotional, but… Even Fran took her side? I thought she was a smarter woman than that.

He muttered inwardly, as if offering himself an excuse. No—that wasn’t it. The most foolish one had been himself, who hadn’t even been there. At that moment, Julius had been downstairs laughing at stupid jokes, putting his hand around some woman’s waist, and drinking cup after cup.

Information gathering, he could call it that. He could also say it was to boost his motivation. But in the face of the wreckage behind that door, such reasons were flimsy as paper. A thorn of guilt caught in his throat. Another regret crept in, not letting Garo have a woman. He had never imagined Garo had been so starved for women that he’d try something with a teammate.

Just saying he was part of “Hero Julius’s party” was enough to get all the women he wanted… How ridiculous. Outwardly, he dismissed the thought. But that very shallow decision might have been what fueled Garo’s desires. Such an unflattering possibility rose unbidden to his mind.

At that moment, the door was knocked on—twice, timidly. Julius straightened his posture.

“Enter.”

Garo peeked through the crack in the door. Burns marked his cheek. His clothes were blackened. His shoulders sagged more than usual. The heaviness of his huge frame now looked like the heaviness of pain. Looking awkward, he stepped inside without meeting Julius’s eyes. Julius stood and glared straight at him.

“…You’ve done it now, Garo.”

He spoke quietly, but with a blade hidden in the words. Garo’s shoulders twitched.

“…Sorry. My blood was boiling. I apologize. But…”

He broke off, then shot Julius a sharp look. His burnt cheek twitched faintly.

“Hey, Julius-sama… Is it true Lloyd Valt is alive? If so, that means you lied to His Majesty too, doesn’t it?”

The air in the room felt dry. Julius blinked once, then rearranged the facts behind his eyelids. Where had it leaked? No, it must be Elena. She must have let it slip in the heat of the moment. Not satisfied with just quitting the party, she even had to say something unnecessary… How infuriating. He should have cut her down right there.

“There is no need to discuss that now.”

Julius made his voice as cold as possible and cut the matter short. He didn’t want this topic spreading further. But Garo narrowed his eyes.

“Come on now… Still hiding things from me? And yet you want me to trust you? That’s asking a bit much, ain’t it?”

“Trust? That’s my line, you idiot! Trying to put your hands on a teammate… How stupid can you be!? Even a monkey could predict what kind of trouble that would cause!”

His restrained true feelings slipped out.

At the harsh reprimand, Garo’s shoulders sank slightly. He looked about to retort, but the words died in his throat and he fell silent.

Julius exhaled deeply. No good, calm down. Venting emotions would only make things worse.

As long as the king’s decree bound them, he couldn’t discard Garo. Conversely, Garo couldn’t abandon his position as a royal guard either. Neither could cut the other, so what bound them wasn’t trust but interest. They were merely using each other for as long as necessary.

“…Sorry. I said too much. Forget it.”

Julius returned to his chair and leaned an elbow on the backrest. He gestured for Garo to sit as well, but Garo didn’t respond.

“So what are you planning to do from here?”

Garo asked in a low voice. Julius exhaled through his nose and began gathering the scattered papers on the desk, pretending to impose order on them. Moving his hands untangled the swirl in his mind, if only a little.

What I’m planning to do? And whose fault is it that things became such a mess?

His irritation simmered, but this wasn’t the time to be angry.

Think.

Three options came to mind. As he aligned the corners of the papers, Julius mentally examined each one.

First: call Elena and Fran back. If he could get them back, their combat strength would instantly recover. No one knew their competence better than he did. They weren’t easily replaced. The Hero’s banner and the party’s morale would surely return to normal. But with the incident involving Garo, this option wasn’t realistic.

And worst of all, an apology would be necessary. In that case, who would apologize? Garo? Julius himself? Even before saying the word aloud, his chest filled with rejection at the thought. His dignity as a Hero, his family name, the royal commendation he had received, everything bit at the idea of “apologizing.”

No… Those two won’t come back.

If they hadn’t possessed that level of resolve, they wouldn’t have walked out together back there. Julius hadn’t been able to offer the words or proposals necessary to make them return.

Wait… If Lloyd came back, Elena and Fran might return too, right?

A new idea rose to his mind immediately. If Lloyd returned, Elena and Fran would likely follow. The party would return to something close to its original form, and Julius could face the king under the excuse of having “worked to correct the situation.”

Explaining Lloyd’s supposed death could be handled as well. Confusion during an expedition wasn’t unusual. Claiming they merely thought he had died would smooth things out. But in that case, Julius would have to apologize to Lloyd and ask for his help.

No way. Me lowering my head to that guy? Absolutely not.

At that thought, Julius gripped the armrest tightly.

“I have to prove my own strength.”

The words slipped out. Garo’s brows twitched faintly.

“Sorry, it’s nothing.”

Julius clicked his tongue and lowered his gaze. Lloyd’s existence was truly troublesome. With Lloyd nearby, people evaluated him on their own and compared him to Julius. It felt like the meaning of being the “Hero” was slowly being eroded. And then there was His Majesty’s strange expectations. What was that about?

It felt as though the title of “Hero’s Party” was being used as nothing more than an excuse to keep Lloyd close and it irritated him. What was the king expecting from some swordsman of unknown origin who couldn’t even Resonate with anyone? There was no way he would bow his head to Lloyd. So this option was out as well.

Finally… The last idea was to request His Majesty to introduce new mages and healers. Logically, this was the quickest. Acquire new members under the king’s authority and reorganize the party. But that would mean calling himself the “Hero who lost every talented member selected by royal decree in a short time.” His Majesty’s trust would definitely crumble.

And the nobles’ rumors spread fast. If his family learned he had lost all his companions, Julius couldn’t imagine what his father or brothers would say. On top of that, there was the issue of how to explain Elena and Fran’s departure to the king. If he claimed they had died right after reporting Lloyd’s death, it would be like parading his own incompetence.

Then should he tell the king they left of their own will? In that case, everyone—not just the king—would realize Lloyd’s true importance. They would conclude Elena and Fran had left because Lloyd was gone. Julius’s evaluation would plummet. The more he thought, the more he felt the ground crumbling beneath him.

The corners of the papers were already aligned. Yet Julius’s fingers kept searching for corners, searching for corners that weren’t there. The pointless motion felt like a mirror of his current thoughts, and he stopped his hand.

“Uh… Julius-sama?”

Garo cleared his throat, and Julius looked up reflexively. Right. They had been discussing what to do next. He couldn’t sever ties with Garo yet. Not now. They didn’t trust each other, but they couldn’t dispose of each other either. Here, the king’s decree ironically served its purpose.

“…Rest for tonight. Your wounds haven’t healed, have they?”

“Got it.”

When Julius said that, Garo gave a short nod and turned on his heel. Julius watched the large back for a moment, then shifted his gaze to the window.

It was already night. The lamp hanging from the sign of the tavern across the street swayed, casting an oily light across the cobblestones. Laughter. Horses neighing. A peddler calling out somewhere far away. Everyday noises drifted in as if through a thin cloth. And Julius alone remained on this side of that cloth, holding his breath tightly.

“It’s fine. A good idea will come to me tomorrow.”

He told himself that. His voice was shockingly calm as he said it. Like a room with the lights out, there was no warmth in it. Distant laughter broke and faded at the window frame.

I’m not wrong. I’m not wrong.

Julius’s night went on and it was the longest night he had ever lived.

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