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~ - 68

Chapter 68: Extra: Lingering Regrets and the Path Forward

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The moment she locked the room door and turned around, the dry, rough texture of the wooden floor traveled up through the soles of her feet. The corner room on the second floor was somewhat quieter than the tavern below, but laughter and the clink of cups still rose up as faint vibrations through the seams of the floorboards. When she opened the small window by the wall just enough for two fingers to fit through, the sound of the fountain blended softly into the night air, and the scent of sizzling skewer grease slipped thinly inside.

The chilled wind brushed her cheeks and calmed the heart rate that had risen with tension. The pounding inside her chest was still restless. Trying to steady her breathing, Elena placed a hand on the window frame and let out a single breath from her shoulders. Behind her came a thump, a dry sound. When she turned around, Fran had jumped onto the bed and was crushing the pillow like a body pillow. The sound of creaking springs bounced softly.

“Still, I can’t believe the Saint-sama really existed. I thought my heart was going to stop~”

Fran said it with an exaggerated sigh.

“Of course she exists. You’d seen her before, right?”

“I’ve seen her, yeah, but only from far away. Someone low-ranking like me isn’t even worthy of getting close to her.”

“Well… Maybe that’s how it is.”

Elena could relate. The headmaster of the magic academy, or the legendary mages among its graduates were the same too. She had seen their silhouettes on ceremonial platforms countless times, but she had never exchanged words with them up close. Distance polished symbols, while reality blurred when viewed from afar.

Fran, her cheek resting on the pillow, shot Elena a sly glance with only her eyes.

“The Saint-sama was cute, huh. Even from another girl’s perspective, wasn’t she like the embodiment of ‘cute’ all rolled together?”

“She was.”

“And on top of that, she’s Lloyd’s lover… Right?”

“…Don’t tease me.”

She said that out loud, but a small bitterness spread at the back of her throat. The atmosphere had relaxed a little, yet the restlessness in her chest refused to fade.

Returning to the window, Elena rehung her robe over the back of a chair, and at the edge of her vision she saw the shadow of that night. The sensation of a thick palm roughly covering her mouth. Disgust and fear raced down her spine in an instant, and she instinctively brought a hand to her lips and took a deep breath.

Anger was easy. But at the same time, anger rotted the eyes. It dulled thought and stripped away freedom. Julius, and Garo. Just lining their names up in her mind made the pit of her stomach burn.

What she had spoken of before Lloyd today felt as though the blade had dulled simply by being put into words. Exposed to his calmness, the fury inside Elena was being sorted not into the shape of revenge, but into the shape of “distance.” She would not get involved anymore. Just deciding that made part of her shoulders feel lighter.

“But hey, are you really okay with it? The ‘handyman’ thing… You’re probably agreeing because of me, right?”

“Well, yeah, that’s true… But honestly, I don’t have anything else I want to do, and I really thought that was the best option for now.”

Saying she had no lingering attachment to her old life would be a lie, Elena thought, pausing once before continuing.

“But that probably stopped being possible the moment I left Julius behind. So then I figured I should choose the safest and most enjoyable path.”

“I see. Then that’s good.”

Fran smiled in relief and kicked her feet lightly while lying on her stomach. The thin blanket rippled in small waves.

Toward her, Elena felt a debt she could never fully repay. If Fran hadn’t been there that night, Elena would have been raped by Garo. Just imagining it made her stomach tighten. That was why Elena wanted to support the way Fran wished to live, as much as she could… Not out of obligation, but as the price of her own choice. Silence settled. Outside the window, metal skewers struck the edge of an iron plate with a small clink.

“Hey, hey. Lloyd looked happy today, didn’t he?”

Fran whispered.

Keeping her fingers on the window frame, Elena lowered only her gaze and nodded slightly.

“…Yeah.”

Relief, a bit of frustration, and the feeling of being left behind. All of it mixed into the roughness at the back of her throat. That gentle gaze he had turned not toward her, but toward the person beside him. Seeing that, Elena finally realized it. That somewhere in her heart, she had feelings for Lloyd.

When they were together, he had been a “companion,” “the one who filled the gaps in the party,” and “a dependable, caring presence.” His reliability and strength had saved her again and again. When Fran jokingly told her to “go seduce him,” she had brushed it off with a wry smile only because it hadn’t been entirely unwelcome.

Now, at this late stage, she had finally discovered that true feeling. But… It was already too late. Precisely because it was too late, she could only swallow it quietly. He had found someone precious to him.

“Well, well. Someday you’ll find someone great too, Elena! Or what, are you gonna seriously go head-to-head with the Saint-sama?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t want that kind of thing. Besides, fighting the Saint-sama would be far too irreverent. I’ll pass.”

“I think you’d hold your own, though.”

“You’re not about to say ‘at least in the chest department,’ are you?”

When Elena’s gaze snapped sharp, Fran’s eyes darted away. The delay in her silence was answer enough. Elena pressed a hand to her forehead and let out an exaggerated sigh.

“…Maybe I will go back to the royal capital tomorrow. You can run the ‘handyman’ business on your own.”

“I’m kidding! I’m sorry~!”

As Fran hurriedly pushed herself upright, Elena’s shoulders shook. Behind the laughter, a faint ache still lingered. She didn’t know whether laughter shaved away pain, or pain gave shape to laughter. Either way was fine. For now, she just needed to choose the stones to place ahead of her, one by one.

“Tomorrow, let’s head to the abandoned village where Lloyd lives first thing in the morning.”

“That’s the place Lloyd hasn’t even told the ‘boy merchant’ about, right? I wonder why.”

“…He’s probably thinking about worst-case scenarios. That’s how wary Lloyd is of the Church. The ‘boy merchant’ understands that too, which is probably why he excused himself when we started talking about the location.”

She thought back on today.

Across the desk at the trading company, the child-faced merchant had set down his quill and quietly stood up the instant they touched on the topic of “tomorrow’s meeting place.” Lloyd had lowered his voice and told the road name in a volume that wouldn’t reach Cron.

That boundary existed for both of their sakes. Lloyd kept silent so as not to expose Cron to danger, and Cron likely chose not to ask because he knew that, in a crisis, he wouldn’t be able to protect everyone. Because there was mutual trust, they deliberately kept their distance.

“We should be careful too.”

“Yes. Let’s go over those details with Lloyd and the others tomorrow.”

As if signaling the end of the conversation, someone downstairs in the tavern began to sing. A sweetly lilting folk song traveled through the wood, swaying faintly. Closing the window until only a finger-width remained open, Elena opened the travel bag on the floor.

She took out a small bottle she had bought at the large bathhouse earlier that day, moisturizing oil blended with citrus and herbal scents. When she pulled the stopper, the memory of steam from earlier resurfaced.

She sat on the edge of the bed and dripped a single drop into her palm. Warming it between both hands, she gently pressed it to her cheeks and forehead. Skin roughened by travel slowly began to breathe again. When her fingertips passed over her temples, the pain from earlier receded a little. There was no mirror, but through touch, the contours became certain.

“Let me use some too~”

When Fran reached out from the bed, Elena shared a bit of the oil. Fran sniffed it as if it tickled her nose, narrowing her eyes happily.

“I like stuff like this. It feels luxurious.”

“It’s a necessary expense. When your skin’s rough, spell pronunciation gets sloppy.”

“Wait, really!?”

“No. It’s a mood thing.”

The two of them chuckled softly. Their laughter overlapped in low tones and quickly faded. Out of habit before putting out the light, Elena stood by the window once more. The night wind was colder than before, and the sound of the fountain seemed clearer. Clamor was dangerous, but it was also salvation. You could breathe while blending into the crowd.

I need to decide how I’m going to live.

She murmured it in her mind and exhaled. Just as Lloyd had chosen something to protect, Elena had to choose the path she would walk. She covered the candle flame with her fingers and blew it out. Darkness spread, and the light outside the window cast lattice-like shadows across the floor. When she returned to the bed, Fran beside her lifted half the blanket.

“…Hey, Elena.”

“What is it?”

“Let’s keep working together from now on.”

“Yes. Likewise.”

She packed many meanings into that brief reply: that Lloyd was alive, that he was standing beside someone, that they themselves were here. All of it was made up of fragments of today’s “gratitude.” The blanket was pulled up to her throat, and the distant singing unraveled into thin strands. Just before closing her eyes, Fran rolled over and muttered something under her breath, but it never became words.

The room, with the light out, was quieter than she had expected. The creaking of the floorboards had stopped, leaving only the thin thread of the fountain’s water sound in her ears. Behind her eyelids, the red sunset slowly drained of color, and the overlapping image of a black-haired back and a pale profile faded away.

Elena let out a slow breath and sank into the depths of sleep. Tomorrow, they would head to the abandoned village first thing in the morning. There was much to discuss there. But tonight, she would sleep with that thought as her pillow. The faint scent of moisturizing oil drifted softly at the edge of her dreams.

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