“Well then, I’ll leave the church in your care for now, Lynn.” Celia stood at the church entrance, giving instructions to her assistant before her.
“Leave it to me!” Lynn nodded. Though she couldn’t cast healing spells like Celia, treating scrapes and bruises was more than manageable for her.
Elent had already packed that massive half-carrot and loaded it onto the carriage parked by the roadside.
“Elent, let’s go.”
Celia and Elent climbed into the carriage. The driver was a dark-skinned, middle-aged man who turned back and flashed them a grin.
“I’ll be counting on you, Aunt Colton.”
“No need for formalities. This is my job, after all. Besides, I’ve been to this village many times, I’m quite familiar with it.”
That was true enough. In Celia’s memory, Aunt Colton really did travel around this area quite often—a familiar face in these parts.
“Mm, we’re heading to Baker City, right?” Aunt Colton adjusted his seat, gripped the reins steadily. “Alright, we’re setting off!”
He gave a low shout, cracked the whip through the air with a snap, and the carriage began to move.
The carriage rolled past fields where farmers were hard at work.
The sky was a pure, flawless blue, sunlight streaming down to illuminate the earth.
Such sights couldn’t be found in the city where Celia had worked in her previous life; the sky there was always gray and hazy.
Only here, in this other world untouched by industrial pollution, could one see the true color of the sky.
Celia leaned against the carriage window, her gaze drifting outside, momentarily lost in thought.
Still, no matter how pleasant the scenery, it would always become monotonous after a while.
When the same groves and meadows appeared for the third time, the novelty had just about worn off.
Celia pulled her gaze back and looked at Elent sitting across from her. This Hero Candidate sat ramrod straight, hands on his knees, looking rather stiff.
Looks like it’s time to make some conversation.
“Say, Hero,” Celia spoke up first.
“What is it?” Elent immediately sat up even straighter.
“Since you’re an Adventurer and even have the qualifications of a Hero Candidate, you must have experienced plenty of interesting things, right?”
Given this was a world of swords and magic, an Adventurer’s stories shouldn’t be too dull.
Listening to them would help pass the time and maybe even gather a bit of useful information—two birds with one stone.
Of course, as for hot-blooded adventures, she was only interested in hearing about them.
For someone who had died once already, nothing was more important than enjoying a peaceful life.
Grand, sweeping adventures? Those were for the young; she just wanted to retire early.
“Uh, I suppose that’s true,” Elent scratched his head, not expecting Celia to ask about this.
“But, still, I’m nothing compared to my father.”
“Your father?” Celia followed up.
“He sounds impressive.”
“Yeah!”
At the mention of his father, Elent became animated, his eyes lighting up. “He was a great Adventurer, traveled to countless places! Like the legendary ‘Fairy Tale Kingdom.’ He said the scenery there was like a painting, flowers of all seasons bloom together, the rivers are sweet, and the people always have smiles on their faces—no worries at all.”
“Oh?”
Fairy Tale Kingdom? That sounded like an ideal place to retire. Celia silently made a note of the name.
“That does sound nice. I hope I can visit it myself someday.”
Encouraged by Celia’s interest, Elent continued:
“He even went to the underground Dwarven Kingdom and saw Lava-forged Divine Weapons. And in the Southern Desert, he once chased the Moonlight Oasis with the Sand People, which only appears at night…”
Elent rattled off many place names and stories of adventure, his voice filled with longing.
Celia listened, but her mind was at work.
Elent’s father, an Adventurer who had visited so many places, must have been extraordinary. Was The Recipe Book really written by someone like that?
No one knew how long had passed when the carriage slowed.
“We’re here, you two.” Aunt Colton’s voice pulled them back to reality.
Celia lifted the curtain. A towering city wall appeared before them. The gates of Baker City stood wide open, a steady flow of people and carriages streaming through.
Celia hopped out of the carriage, with Elent following close behind, the sack of carrots hoisted onto his shoulder.
Looking up, the stone-built city walls appeared truly grand. These otherworldly buildings left a deep impression on Celia.
Once inside the city, streets were lined with all manner of shops. Outside a tavern, a crude wooden sign swung in the breeze.
The sound of hammers rang from the blacksmith’s forge. Leather-armored Adventurers passed by in small groups.
Everything here was just like the scenes she had only ever seen in novels and animation before.
Celia’s attention was caught by a fruit stand.
The stall was piled high with bright red fruit, looking strikingly similar to an apple stall she remembered from an anime—even the way they were arranged was nearly identical.
She stopped for a moment, staring a little longer.
Elent noticed Celia’s gaze, walked over to the stall, and picked out the largest, reddest fruit to buy. He handed it to Celia.
“Give it a try, this is called Red Sun Fruit, a Baker City specialty. It’s much sweeter than regular apples. When I was a kid, my mother would only buy me one if I did well.”
Celia took a bite. Rich juice burst in her mouth, the sweetness flowing smoothly down her throat.
“Not bad.”
Seeing that Celia liked it, Elent looked genuinely happy.
“Priestess, let me take you to my house first.”
Elent led Celia through several bustling streets to a quieter residential area.
He stopped in front of a small two-story stone house and pushed open the wooden door.
“Mother, are you home? I brought a friend with me!”
“My, that’s rare.”
An elderly voice sounded from within the house.
An old woman with silvery-white hair walked out.
When she saw Celia following behind Elent, her cloudy eyes suddenly sparkled, and she looked them both over with a gossip-loving elder’s gaze.
“Sit, sit, don’t be shy.”
“Mother, this is my friend, Miss Celia. She’s a—”
“I’m Martha.” Mrs. Martha cheerfully interrupted her son, pulling Celia to sit by the table, then poured a glass of dark, mellow wine.
“What’s your name, dear?”
“Hello, Mrs. Martha. My name is Celia.” Celia replied with a sweet smile.
“Good, good, try some. This is one of Baker City’s specialties.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Martha.”
Mrs. Martha examined Celia, growing more pleased the longer she looked, the wrinkles on her face smoothing out.
“Elent has never been good at taking care of himself since he was little. I’m grateful to have a friend like you looking out for him on the road.”
Already visiting his home, she moves fast.