Sixteen years ago, a war known as the “Holy Crusade,” which swept across the entire continent with the goal of overthrowing the rule of the Demon Race, came to an end thanks to the heroic exploits of the hero summoned from another world by the Kingdom of Yilansiya—Lian En Klauscher—and his companions.
He not only slew the Demon King but also liberated numerous nations and races from centuries of domination by the Demon Race.
This unprecedented and unparalleled achievement caused him to be hailed as a savior by the countries of the world, but it also made him the target of every faction eager to redraw the continent’s map after the war.
The first to act were the camps behind his companions—the Celendor Theocracy, from which the Holy Maiden of his party hailed, honored him as the “Knight of God” and offered him a status equal to that of the Pope; the Darkwood Sea, homeland of the Elf ranger, ignored a millennia-old taboo and sought to arrange the first formal union between Elf and human in history; and the Kingdom of Yilansiya, which summoned him, even had the Royal Princess who taught him swordsmanship become his fiancée, intending to bring him into the royal family.
Even the Dragon Race, which had remained neutral during the war, and the Demon Race, which sought to reorganize the Demon Realm after defeat, tried to win him over with vast wealth and treasures.
In truth, whichever side he chose, he could have enjoyed inexhaustible riches and glory.
But while the whole continent watched to see where he would go, he disbanded the Adventuring Party, concealed his identity, and returned to a village in the Northland of Yilansiya, where he married a village girl—
“Urp… More wine!”
This was a story eagerly discussed by the people of the continent—the anecdotes and legends of the hero.
But now, the protagonist of these tales, the invincible hero, had become a hopelessly drunken girl making a scene in a tavern in the Northern Capital.
“You’re still drinking? Little miss… This is your eighth jug already…” The bartender at the counter was at a loss.
Ever since this girl had barged into the tavern, she’d been sitting at the front, downing jug after jug of liquor. Her vigor even outmatched the fat-bellied old drunkards nearby.
“Little miss? Your whole family’s little misses! I’m a real man! A real man! Are you blind or something!”
Lian En slammed the empty jug hard against the counter, thumping it so forcefully that even the rough-looking men drinking nearby shot him glances.
Sensing trouble, the bartender quickly pushed at his shoulder and advised, “You’re talking nonsense from all that drink! Where’s your family? I’ll call them to come get you…”
“Bring—me—more—wine—!” If anything, mentioning that made Lian En’s drunken face flush even redder.
He pounded the counter with a loud thud, making the entire tavern seem to tremble.
“Whoa!”
“Was that an earthquake? Or an attack?”
“This is the plains. And besides, who’d have the nerve to cause trouble in Seles City under the Duke’s rule?”
The people in the tavern were startled, but then carried on drinking and carousing as if nothing had happened.
No one connected the tremor with Lian En’s actions.
To them, it was just a little lass drowning her sorrows, probably heartbroken.
In the prosperous Northern Capital, there were enough people drinking themselves into a stupor to build a wall; everyone was used to it by now.
“Hey. Young master’s drinking, and you’re making a fuss, little girl…”
No one noticed the fine cracks spreading across the counter. A few men seated nearby stood up, and one grabbed Lian En by the collar, scolding impatiently.
“This girl… looks pretty unique, doesn’t she? Hey, want to join our table? We’ve got drinks better than wine, you know.”
Seeing Lian En’s misty drunken eyes, the man’s expression twisted into a lecherous grin.
His companions crowded around, and when they saw Lian En’s face, they all whistled.
“I told you to stop drinking… Gentlemen, look, this girl’s already dead drunk. How about letting her off this time?”
“Stay out of it! Whether she can still drink or not is up to the little miss herself, right?”
“Little miss, my foot… Hic~ I can still drink…”
“You heard her.” The man gripping Lian En’s collar switched to slinging an arm over his shoulder, giving the bartender a menacing glare.
Realizing these men were trouble, the bartender shut his mouth and shot Lian En a sympathetic look. Lian En was hauled over to a table by the group.
“So you’re the one making such a fuss. Didn’t expect such a lovely beauty to be the culprit.”
On the soft seat across the table sat the stereotypical wastrel young master, his hair and clothes glinting with gaudy gold.
“So we brought her over straight away for you, young master!” The man deposited Lian En next to the young master, then, with his cronies, toadied up and toasted their patron.
“Good eyes on you. I’ll reward you!” The young master, addressed by his servants as “Young Master,” nodded grandly, then flamboyantly tossed wads of Paper Currency at them.
Lian En glanced up at the currency and her eyes widened.
—It was his own bust in armor. Beside the portrait was the number “100,” the highest denomination of currency in Yilansiya.
During his travels with the Adventuring Party to defeat the Demon King, he had once written to Meliya, mentioning that in his original world, metals like Aitixila were rarely used for currency due to their inconvenience, and he had grumbled, “If only this world had lightweight, portable paper money…”
“Currency made of paper? If we ever have such money, I’ll put your portrait on it. By the way, yours will be the largest denomination.”
So Meliya had replied in her letter. Lian En had never thought that even his offhand remarks would be remembered by her and made reality.
“That person… really is Meliya.” Unable to run from reality any longer, Lian En buried his head in his arms and sobbed.
The girl who looked exactly as Meliya did in her youth—she looked at most a year or two younger than himself.
So what he thought was just one night… how much time had truly passed?
“What year of the Saint Calendar is it now?” Drifting into thought, he murmured the question, caring little who would answer.
“Looks like she’s really had too much.” The young master’s men exchanged glances, grinning wickedly.
“It’s Saint Calendar 1453. Judging by those weird clothes, you must be from some mountain village, huh?”
Since Lian En still wore his modern clothes, these men took him for an ignorant country girl, mocking him with jeers.
“And isn’t it almost the Crimsonflame Princess’s sixteenth birthday? That’s why Young Master’s here.”
As they scooped up money, the cronies chatted idly, but their words struck Lian En like a bolt from the blue.
He had first been summoned to Aitixila in Saint Calendar 1434, and defeated the Demon King and returned to Meliya in 1437. Now, if it was 1453… sixteen full years had passed.
“No wonder the kid has grown so much!”
“Young Master… maybe this girl’s got a screw loose? Should we let her go? No way even a drunk gets like this.”
Seeing Lian En repeatedly smash his head on the table, the lackeys hesitantly asked their boss.
The young master, unconcerned, flicked his vulgar golden fringe under his feathered hat:
“No harm done. If we want to conquer the famed ‘Crimsonflame Princess,’ then practicing on a crazy country bumpkin is just right!”
“That’s right, Young Master! Hey, stop banging your head, little girl—if something’s troubling you, just tell us. Our Young Master is none other than Bert, first heir of the Walstroom family, the famous nobility of the Middlelands. Make him happy and the rewards will be great!”
“Walstroom?”
“You know, the one with the gold mine in the Middlelands.”
“Aren’t they nouveau riche? Nobles boasting about marrying our Princess—he’s the thirteenth this week…”
“Ugh.”
A few locals, sensing the drama, began gossiping, with mocking and disdainful glances like needles piercing at the Walstroom young master.
Whether emboldened by wine or by his wealth, the young master became even more fired up:
“That’s right! Young Master Bert here is richer than a nation! Even Duchess Meliya can’t ignore my marriage proposals forever!”
The noble named Bert slung his arm around Lian En’s shoulder and leapt up, boasting in the center of the soft seat.
But at the mention of Meliya’s name, Lian En suddenly turned and glared at him.
“You… what did you just say? Who are you proposing to?”
“Huh? Why, of course, to Duchess Meliya—”
Bert’s triumphant speech was cut short. Those handsome black eyes glaring at him were now filled with a terrifying chill.
In an instant, Bert’s world turned upside down. Before he knew what happened, he was sprawled on the tavern floor.
Beneath him, a crack split the pine floorboards and extended deep into the foundation.
Boom!
The floor around Bert caved in, and the whole tavern shuddered with a tremendous crash.
The diners, startled, dropped their food and drinks and dove under tables and chairs for cover.
“That really was an earthquake!”
“Go call the guards—no, get the Sage at once!”
“Y-Young Master?”
Amidst the clamor, the Walstroom servants, dizzy from the fall, crawled up and gingerly called to Bert, who lay in the dust and a pit nearly half the size of the front hall.
“…the daughter, ‘Crimsonflame Princess’ Milin, marriage proposal.”
Bert stared blankly upward, muttering the words he hadn’t finished saying.
The anxious attendants, and even the tavern ceiling, seemed to blur and drift into the distance, leaving only the strikingly impressive drunken girl hero standing on the seat, still posed from the over-the-shoulder throw.
His mind was clear, and he felt no pain at all. Yet being sent flying and smashing a pit into the floor by a drunken girl seemed like the absurdity of a dream.
“Don’t call her aunt…! Hic!”
Lian En let out a huge drunken burp, then, overcome by drink, collapsed limply.
At the same time, the counter and the table where Bert had been sitting both snapped in half and fell over.
The surrounding crowd, terrified by the bizarre sight, quickly fled the area.
“It broke clean in two!”
“Why does weird stuff keep happening tonight… maybe I’ve had too much?”
“…Lian En?”
Yet what no one noticed was that, among the customers, there was someone utterly unaffected by the chaos.
She quietly rose from her seat, her gaze fixed on the girl hero lying amidst the wreckage.