The Rising of the Shield Hero Vol 11

by Aneko Yusagi

  “There’s no way Mr. Naofumi would be seduced so easily. It would save me a lot of trouble if it were that simple.”

  Huh? What was that supposed to mean?

  “That’s where I come in! Don’t worry, little Naofumi, I’ll cure you of your distrust of women!”

  “Rafu!”

  Sadeena’s excitement rubbed off on Raph-chan, causing her to join in the ruckus. What an annoying woman. It was in my best interest to just ignore her.

  “Oh? Your reaction must signify your approval! I won’t let you down, little Naofumi!”

  Huh?! She just interpreted my disregard however it suited her! Just when I thought this woman couldn’t get any more annoying!

  “Look! Boobies!”

  Sadeena embraced me from behind and pressed her breasts up against me.

  “Go to hell!”

  “Mr. Naofumi! Calm down! Sadeena! Behave yourself, please!”

  “Aww . . .”

  Sadeena yielded, backing off when I protested. But she still had a grin on her face that was really getting on my nerves.

  “Fehhh . . .”

  “Can I rub up against Master from the back like Sadeena, toooo?”

  “Permission denied!”

  Filo seemed to think it was all some kind of game and started getting ready to grab me from behind in her filolial queen form. Damn it! If ignoring them didn’t work, just what was I supposed to do?!

  “Sheesh . . . Don’t you have any other slaves? I’m going to be mad if this trip was all for nothing.”

  “We do, indeed! In fact, we’ve been saving the best for last.”

  “Every now and then you try to play tricks on me, don’t you?”

  Seriously. I really wished I didn’t have to deal with these creeps.

  “What is it that you’re looking for then, Shield Hero?”

  “Right now I could use some slaves that are good with their hands. Other than that, any slave that can fight will do.”

  I already had a few slaves back at the village that were good with their hands, but I needed more. What I really wanted was more slaves that had a natural aptitude for detailed work like Imiya, who I was teaching how to make accessories.

  “I see. This way, then.”

  “You better not show me any more fakes.”

  “Of course not.”

  The slave traders took us to another section and . . . Yeah, I’d seen one of these before.

  “Those are lumos, right?”

  I walked over toward a cage filled with lumo therianthropes. Imiya wasn’t originally from Lurolona, but if any of these lumos knew him already then it would probably make them easier to work with. Kind of like how having Raphtalia had made it easier to work with Keel. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

  “Do any of you know a boy named Imiya?”

  “That’s a common name. Which Imiya might you be referring to?”

  A lumo that was slightly taller than Imiya responded. It was a . . . male, I think.

  Hmm . . . So Imiya was a common name. This was useless if I couldn’t say his full name. What was it again? I remembered it being abnormally long. Leu . . . Nope, I couldn’t remember it. I gave up. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but whatever.

  Oh, wait! Rishia was the brains around here, so maybe she would remember.

  “Hey, Rishia. Do you remember that long name of Imiya’s?”

  “Fehhh . . .”

  That meant she didn’t.

  “Oh well. We’ll just have to bring Imiya back with us later.”

  Just when I was about to give up for good, Raphtalia spoke up.

  “Mr. Naofumi, you know Imiya is a girl, right? Her full name is Imiya Leuthurn Reethela Teleti Kuwariz.”

  Raphtalia spouted off Imiya’s full name like it was nothing. Just how good was her memory, anyway? Raphtalia was actually pretty impressive. Or maybe she was just good at remembering names.

  “Just the other day you mentioned some dish with a rather long name, too, Mr. Naofumi.”

  “Oh yeah, I guess I did. Faux filets de sardines au basilic.”

  Sardines with basil, in other words. There were fish similar to sardines in this world, but they weren’t quite the same. They didn’t have basil here, either, so I just made do with some random herbs. Not long ago I’d cooked the dish for the slaves to celebrate their return, since we’d finally gotten the village’s basic infrastructure in place. It was a French dish, by the way.

  “Imiya’s name isn’t much more complicated than that.”

  “You think so?”

  The name of the dish wasn’t difficult to remember since each of the words had meaning. Imiya’s name just sounded like some kind of foreign code to me.

  “You mean that Imiya!”

  The lumo male spoke up again.

  “You know her?”

  “She’s my niece. Of course I know her!”

  Oh? I guess we’d found one of Imiya’s family members. It was our lucky day.

  “Are any of these others from the same place as you?”

  “Yes, some of them are from the same village.”

  “They’ll do just fine, then. I’ll reunite you all with Imiya.”

  I let the slave trader know that I would be buying the male lumo and his fellow villagers.

  “Understood. Yes sir.”

  “And . . . might I ask who you are, sir?” the lumo asked me.

  “What? Is it not obvious? I’m a slave driver.”

  I had a feeling slaves would come flocking over if I said the truth out loud while we were in this place. It’d save me a lot of trouble if I just glossed over it for now.

  “There you go again with the lies . . .” interjected Raphtalia.

  “Is Imiya . . . is she doing well?”

  “She’s doing very well. She’s doing her best to help out at our village,” Raphtalia reassured him.

  Imiya was obedient. That was for sure. Perhaps a bit too timid, though.

  “I see. I look forward to seeing her again.”

  I never would have thought that absurdly long name would turn out to be useful, but it sure helped us out today.

  “Oh my! I have a feeling things are going to get even more exciting back at the village!”

  Sadeena’s mouth was moving again.

  “Probably. By the way, I’ve been wondering . . . What’s your relationship with Raphtalia, anyway?”

  “I’m just a drifter that came from the same place as little Raphtalia’s parents. They took good care of me.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  I’d just figured all of them had lived in Lurolona for generations. But I guess that made sense. The territory that I was governing now was a region that Eclair’s father had worked to develop, and it’d been designated as a demi-human-friendly area. But once he died, there was no one around with political influence anymore and the region just fell into ruin.

  “Well, I think that should do it for today.”

  My coin purse had been feeling pretty light ever since I’d paid Sadeena’s debts off for her. I probably couldn’t afford to buy any more slaves than this right now.

  “I guess it’s about time we head back,” I said.

  “Wait just a moment. Yes sir.”

  The Zeltoble slave trader spoke up.

  “What is it? Is there something else?”

  “We have a pair of slaves that we think you will find most interesting.”

  “If it’s more slaves sent by Siltvelt then I’ll pass.”

  “Oh no, certainly not. These two are . . . today’s main dish, shall we say?”

  “I’m just about all out of money, you know.”

  “A powerful drug can become a dangerous poison in the wrong hands. This is a pair that we believe you will know how to handle best, so we are prepared to offer them to you at a very reasonable price.”

  A powerful drug, huh? That sounded good, but it also meant I’d be dealing with a dangerous poison if I wasn’t careful. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to
take a look.

  “Let’s have a look.”

  I followed the slave traders out of the room.

  “This way.”

  We seemed to be in some kind of quarantine area for sick slaves. It sure didn’t seem very sanitary. I wasn’t about to start doing charity work, but this was just bad for my mental health. I walked over to a cage, pulled out a vial of medicine, and beckoned to the slave inside.

  “Ugh . . .”

  “Here. This is medicine. Drink it.”

  “Th . . . thank you.”

  I couldn’t help myself. It was for my own mental health. The slave was suffering right there in front of me, so I gave it the medicine. I’d made a good portion of my money from selling medicine in this world, so I was confident that my medicine would make a difference.

  “I’m sure you already know this, but—”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll be sure to reimburse you with a portion of the profits later!” the slave traders cut me off.

  “Don’t speak in unison like that! It’s creepy!”

  The Zeltoble slave trader started skipping. Come on! Seriously! He was creeping me out. Anyway . . . after all was said and done, it came time to meet the pair of slaves.

  “Here we are.”

  We were standing in front of a cage with two demi-humans inside.

  “Wh . . . what now?! I’m working like I’m supposed to, right? What do you want?!”

  One of them was a young boy around 12 years old. He looked as healthy as could be.

  “Oh? Is that you, little Fohl?”

  “You’re . . . Nadia!”

  Huh? They knew each other? I pointed at the slave and Sadeena nodded.

  “I saw him fighting in the coliseums every now and then when I first came to Zeltoble. I even saw him fight in the underground coliseums a few times.”

  So he was a slave and a fighter. I’d heard that some people in Zeltoble ended up as slaves and were forced to fight in the coliseums. I guess this Fohl kid was one of those combat slaves.

  “And that one?”

  I pointed at the other slave lying at the back of the cage.

  “No idea,” Sadeena replied.

  It was hard to see since it was so dark, but I could make out someone lying on a bed of straw. Whoever it was didn’t seem to be in very good condition.

  Cough . . . cough . . .

  I looked the Fohl kid over. The first thing that caught my eye was the color of his hair. It was black and white. I could tell from the colors and texture of his hair alone that he was more valuable than the other slaves. His eyes were blue, with pupils that were vertical slits, like those of a cat. Those slits, surrounded by blue irises standing out against the whites of his eyes . . . That alone gave him an air that felt almost intimidating. His face had a wild look to it. There was something in his eyes that said the whole world was his enemy. His ears were also a bit cat-like, but thicker and rounded. What really stuck out was his tail, with its black and white stripes. Could it be?

  “Strange. Something about him reminds me of an opponent that we faced in Kizuna’s world.”

  Raphtalia echoed my thoughts.

  “What a coincidence. I was just thinking the same thing.”

  “Umm . . . the white tigers, riiight?”

  Oh? Even Filo had noticed, apparently. She was right. Something about the slave reminded me of the white tigers that we had fought in Kizuna’s world. It made me think of the half-human, half-beast enemies that Kyo had created. How should I put it? I imagined this slave was what the perfected version of those things would look like. He looked like a human that had been very skillfully combined with a white tiger. I’m sure he was just a demi-human, of course. But my prior experience with white tigers put me off.

  “He seems expensive. Even for a kid.”

  “Factoring price in from the very first impression . . . My hat’s off to your financial prudence, hero!”

  Even Raphtalia seemed stunned by my verdict.

  “Your focus on the bottom line is impressive, little Naofumi!”

  Just ignore them all!

  But actually, they did have a point. Maybe thinking about money before anything else wasn’t such a good thing, after all.

  “I mean, compared to the other demi-human slaves, something seems different about him,” I said.

  “You have good intuition. This slave is a hakuko. It’s a type of demi-human with quite the reputation,” the slave trader responded.

  “Hakuko . . .”

  “It’s said that the very first holy heroes named the race in ancient times.”

  In Japanese, the character for “white” could be pronounced “haku” and “ko” was one of the pronunciations of the character for “tiger.” When the two were combined to refer to the legendary white tiger they were actually pronounced “byakko,” but if you didn’t know that I guess you might mistakenly pronounce them “hakuko.”

  That meant it was a type of demi-human that had been around since ancient times. In that case, it might have been a good investment, but . . . what if he turned into some kind of monster like the Spirit Tortoise when he grew up and then ended up going on a rampage or something? That was not something I wanted to deal with.

  And anyway, what was up with that name? Why did all of the past heroes seem to have such bad taste in these things? It was the same with the legends at the Cal Mira islands. Then again, I did name my filolial “Filo,” so I guess I couldn’t really talk.

  “I see. And what are you planning to do with this one?”

  “We would like to present him to you.”

  “He does seem rather strong, but certainly not what I’d call a ‘powerful drug.’”

  Even the White Tiger guardian beast in Kizuna’s world hadn’t been impossible to defeat. The shields that I had unlocked using materials from the beast had left an impression on me because they had some really annoying equip effects like support nullification. The same went for Raphtalia’s katana, too. The equipment was really difficult to use well.

  “Do you know his level and stats?”

  “His level is written here.”

  I looked over the papers that the slave trader handed me. I’d had a hunch, but apparently the two slaves were siblings. Level 32? He sure looked young for a level that high. The slaves back at the village were all pretty grown by the time they hit level 30.

  “That’s higher than I expected. Does the fact that he still looks like this have something to do with his race? Or just individual differences?”

  “He’s still a child at this level. One special characteristic of this type of demi-human is that they cannot class up until level 50. They can reach level 60 without classing up, as well. Yes sir. Consequently, they can reach a maximum level of 120 after classing up.”

  “In other words, he’ll be even stronger when he becomes an adult.”

  “Exactly.”

  Impressive. So this was some kind of special type of demi-human. Even Filo had to class up at level 40, so I could only imagine what kind of development these siblings might exhibit if I leveled them up. My interest had definitely been piqued. The boy’s sister was level 1, by the way.

  “The hakuko demi-humans are known for having used their exceptional combat prowess to repeatedly thwart the plans of Melromarc’s legendary figure known as ‘His Excellency, the Wise.’ Yes sir.”

  Using Trash as an example wasn’t going to help anything. Nothing about him impressed me. And that meant he’d used his influence to bring his tyranny all the way here.

  “Using ‘His Excellency, the Wise’ as a point of reference isn’t saying much . . .”

  “If it weren’t for that man, the name ‘Melromarc’ would likely mean nothing to other countries.”

  “You sure are talking him up.”

  “Regardless, the hakuko is one of this world’s most prestigious races, not counting the heroes. Yes sir.”

  “I see.”

  Ignoring whether or not Trash was any more impressive d
uring his prime, I guess it was safe to assume that hakuko demi-humans had exceptional combat skills. The ability to thwart an enemy’s strategy using physical force was probably something I could use, considering that I was generally limited to defensive measures. Of course, that was assuming that these slaves truly had such potential.

  The slave trader whispered in my ear, as if to avoid being heard by the siblings.

  “By the way, even the supposedly unrivaled hakuko is no match for an orca in the water. Yes sir.”

  “Who are you talking about now?”

  The slave traders both looked over at Sadeena.

  “Oh?”

  What?! Now they were telling me that Sadeena was a superior type of demi-human?! Then again, the Japanese character for “killer whale” was a combination of “fish” and “tiger,” so I guess it made sense that they would be powerful animals. But anyway, we were supposed to be focusing on the slave siblings right now.

  “As for these siblings, the brother is in perfect health, but the younger sister has a genetic disorder. She is blind, cannot walk, and does not have much longer to live. However, her brother cares for her more than anything else in the world.”

  So he was still trying to protect his dying sister even after they had become slaves. It sounded like the hero of some clichéd story. If this were some kind of manga or something, he wouldn’t even need to be the hero. With that kind of conviction, he would be a popular character even if he were the villain or something. And he had the strength to actually stand by that conviction because of his race. He fit the stereotype perfectly.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Perhaps you could separate the two. Put the brother to work. Tell him that his sister will be hospitalized, and then go leave her in a field somewhere. Of course, you would make the brother believe she was still alive. You have monsters that are good at imitating voices, right? Just let the brother hear her voice from time to time.”

  Did I have monsters that were good at imitating voices? There were only four things that my monsters did: dig up dirt, run around peddling, eat weeds, or fight. Did he mean Filo? I looked over at Filo.

  “Whaaat?”

  “Can you imitate voices, Filo? Can you do an imitation of Melty?”

  “Yuuup! Filo-chan, you’re so charming!”