The Porter Is Not Interested in the Hero Party

43 – MOOD FOR LOVE (5)

The night air, which was blocked by the outer wall, clung to us as soon as we crossed the threshold, damaging the grass. Millet said to me while wearing a thick coat.

“cold.”

And as he smiled, his breath rose white between his teeth. Looking at the shape that rose like the smoke of cooking rice in the countryside, I also blew in the same way and smoked white steam. Then I asked her, stroking my body with both arms.

“What did you call for?”

I knew what they were calling for, but out of courtesy, I asked. When we turn our heads, the soft lighting creates a hazy night fog, making us feel like we are dreaming. Miele brushed off the wet grass and sat down on a chair outside the house.

“me. It’s strange.”

Millet was definitely strange. When I met Benuel today, it was strange, as if the hero made a bombastic remark that he did not understand him. His smiling face also looked a bit strange, and it was strange that he gave off an awkward atmosphere unlike usual. I nodded and said.

“Yes.”

“Especially today.”

“Yes.”

She said nothing but a story for which I nodded. After I answered twice, she did not continue the conversation. He just grinned, as if trying not to show his emotions. But the smiling face didn’t look like a smile, rather it looked depressed. I asked her

“Did you want the hero to understand Millet?”

“….yes. from one to ten.”

The scope of her understanding was a bit broader than I thought. Even if the hero had been here, the scale would have been the same. I asked.

“Why did you think that?”

“Because a warrior is a warrior.”

“It is difficult. It is too difficult for an ignorant person to understand.”

Millet did not elaborate in words. She took a small book out of her arms and handed it to me. The book was a popular fairy tale among the people. A romantic story about a hero showing up to defeat an evil villain and save the world.

[The stylish hero Carlos]

Millet nodded as I switched between the book and her. In response to the movement to read quickly, I reluctantly opened the book and began to read the contents.

[Hero Carlos is the most stylish man in the world. He was liked by everyone and got along well with everyone.

Carlos also got along well with the elves. Because he was a warrior. Carlos could be friends with anyone in the world.]

Carlos befriends an elf.

Of course, this person did not actually exist. Before the demon king appeared, it was just a fictional fairy tale that was popular in kingdoms and empires. A time when there were only low-quality people who worshiped the devil, and people growled at each other as they fought people.

“This is a book I haven’t seen in a long time. It was popular when I was young.”

“I read that book too when I was little. I mean it was there. The hero is a person who understands everyone. So. I hope even a freak like me can understand. So I practiced hard and trained hard. I won first place in the hunter competition, and I did a lot of work here and there.”

Millet wasn’t bad. As is often the case, Millet was expecting too much from the hero. Some people want to understand themselves and affirm everything about themselves. He wants an angel to appear who accepts his wounds with infinite tolerance, and believes in the fact that one day such a person will appear and embrace him like a religion.

But I didn’t want to understand that optimism. Because there is no one in the world who can understand everyone. Millet said while crying.

“I thought a hero would understand me. But no. The hero always keeps a little distance from me.”

Millet seemed to feel that way about the hero. It seems that the hero tried to understand and harmonize with Millet in his own way, but that effort was not enough for Millet, and it felt like an act of drawing a line.

Even if good people gather, the results do not flow only in the good direction. Her gloomy expression proved it. Millet was staring at the floor, sobbing, and tears rolled down her dainty cheeks.

Millet was a very selfish woman. However, he was also a pitiful elf struggling with the desire to be understood by others. I looked at Millet’s tears and asked.

“What’s wrong with not being understood?”

“yes?”

Millet opened her eyes wide and looked at me. I spread my arms and said.

“Look at me. I’m crazy about braggarts and widows. Do you understand why a man who is smart and handsome enough to settle down and start a family is wasting his time?”

Millet frowned and looked at me. She was trying to understand me, but it didn’t seem to work. Blinking her eyes a few times and tilting her head, she said.

“….I do not get it.”

“Yes. Miss Millet. Millet-sama, then, are you not friends with me? Because I have a corner that Millet-nim doesn’t understand. Can’t we be colleagues and friends with each other?”

Millet was taken aback when I brought up an extreme story, and shook her head hurriedly.

“Yeah, I hate that. Because porters are good people.”

I smiled and nodded.

“That’s right. We may not understand each other, but we can still be friends. Miss Millet. Did you really come to the party just because you’re a warrior? There’s nothing good about the hero, did you just come in blindly because you’re the hero?”

Millet shook her head. The relationship between Millet and the hero was not a simple one that can be summarized in a children’s book. He was a real comrade with whom he formed a deep bond when fighting against the demons.

“…..no. The warrior is very kind and nice. Always show the same attitude when dealing with others. Even if you meet a bad person, you will understand if there are circumstances, but when fighting demons, you are ruthless. Determined and cool.”

“Yes? Millet already knows so many good things about the hero. Miss Millet. The hero is trying to understand Millet. Because it’s the same colleague. That’s another cool thing about warriors. Trying to understand your colleagues and put yourself in their shoes.”

Millet smiled and nodded.

“right. A warrior always thinks deeply. So there are times when the reaction is a bit slow and there are times when it is erratic, but that is fun.”

“The hero may have encountered elves for the first time as Millet. Wouldn’t it take time for people from different cultures to understand each other? And, what if you don’t understand? Even if there is something you don’t understand. we can be friends Like me and Mille. like everyone else.”

Millet stared at me and smiled. Seeing the shade lifted from the smiley face, it seemed like my heart was relieved. She looked up at me and swung her foot out, then tilted her head and asked me.

“The porter seems to understand me very well.”

“I am… … . Isn’t he such a wonderful person?”

“What is that.”

Millet laughed while speaking with a disgusted expression. I laughed as much as Millet laughed, and forgot how cold the night air was.

“What is the porter’s dream?”

Miele said as she got up from her seat.

“Are you talking about dreams?”

“So, why do you want to join the party and go to the Empire?”

“Because it is my hometown.”

It was a simple reason, but it was also a word that contained complex circumstances. Most people imagined my situation in a different way at these words and then turned around.

“Hometown.”

Millet looked around. I saw a dark forest surrounded by beautiful lighting and a subtle mist. The sound of grasshoppers was crying in the distance, and when I turned my head and looked at the second floor, there was Punuel studying. She came out on the balcony and looked down at Millet and me, then disappeared like a shadow through the second floor door.

Millet’s eyes were shining as he looked at her.

Miele looked up at the second floor with bright eyes and then looked at me and said.

“I understand.”

“You understand.”

We made eye contact again and laughed. Miele spread her arms wide and carefully opened the front door. After making sure everyone else was asleep inside, I stepped back cautiously. Then he wrapped himself in a blanket, threw himself on the sofa, and spoke to me in a low voice.

“good night.”

“Good night, sir.”

So I closed my eyes again. After a deep story, mental fatigue presses your body and you fall asleep quickly. Before I could close my eyes and count to 10, the world enveloped in pitch darkness and silence, inviting me to rest.

“I-over there… … .”

But my break didn’t last for a while. I blinked and looked around, but saw the night sky still glowing with stars over the ridge. When I looked around with a puzzled face and turned my head, the hero was sitting with an awkward smile on his face.

“That… … . sorry, sorry Take a short walk together… … . would you please? I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep.”

I pondered for a while.

Couldn’t I just say I’m tired here and go to sleep?

Am I not doing my job well enough as a porter?

“That… … . Oh, can’t we? mister?”

But when the hero is having such a hard time, how could he ignore it?

I stood up without even breathing a sigh.

“Yes. Warrior.”