Chapter 28: Alan’s Past
Alan met Lart’s gaze.
As a former teammate, Alan of course understood what Lart was thinking at this moment.
But the little mage who had once obeyed and admired his captain unquestioningly now appeared unusually stubborn.
“These were planted here by my friend,” Alan explained, lightly patting the dragon vines’ leaves. Under his palm, the lush, vibrant green plants did indeed seem somewhat well-behaved—provided one ignored the thin streams of highly toxic digestive liquid dripping from the cracks of the closed fruit buds.
The digestive fluid sizzled as it hit the ground, leaving several black corrosive marks in the soil.
Alan saw it too, but he casually averted his eyes as if nothing had happened.
After a brief pause, he added weakly, “…They are all magical creatures, and magical creatures sometimes have rather strange tempers. Besides, they were only recently planted—they’re still very young.”
Lart cleared his throat and said in a low voice, “I understand what you mean. But these… little things… they really aren’t as simple as you think.”
Hearing Lart’s solemn warning, Alan hesitated for a moment. But soon, he thought of Little Green, still perched on the bookshelf, whining daily for honey water and custard pudding.
“Really?” he couldn’t help but reply, pushing back against Lart. “Perhaps you’re only familiar with wild breeds, while these kids have already been domesticated? Isn’t that fairly common with magical creatures? The wild populations of Moen Pegasi are a nightmare, but once domesticated, they turn into a bunch of little cuties.”
Alan knew he was being a little biased.
But after spending so much time with the dragon vines, it was hard for him not to be.
The dragon vines might be a little mischievous, occasionally a bit fussy, but they were still remarkably good companions. Even something as picky and delicate as Little Green would help chase away mice when Alan wasn’t at home.
And while Alan recalled the heartwarming image of Little Green driving off mice, the scene that appeared in Lart’s mind was a disaster that had occurred years ago in the Grand Mage Tower of the royal capital: a particularly arrogant and foolish high-level mage, misled by Veles’s outwardly indifferent demeanor, had assumed that the tall silver-haired man was truly restrained and under the control of the other mages. Believing this, he stole a few of Veles’s dragon vines for a small experiment of his own.
Those seemingly lazy, delicate plants almost destroyed the entire Mage Tower. Dozens of high-ranking mages had been chased, heads in their hands, fleeing in panic. As for the culprit, he was devoured completely—without a single bone remaining.
“You need to stay alert, Alan,” Lart said. “No matter how friendly a magical creature appears, it can always reveal a terrifying side. That’s clearly written in the Adventurer’s Team Code.”
“Sss—”
A dragon vine, no thicker than a pinky finger, pretended to cough and spat a small stream of venom at Lart’s feet.
Lart stepped back without a change of expression, precisely avoiding the vine’s attack.
“See?”
He shrugged at Alan, giving him a warm, gentle smile.
Alan tapped the disobedient vine lightly with his toe, rubbing his temple in frustration. “They hardly ever do this… oh, forget it.”
In this world, some people were naturally loved by magical creatures—like Alan himself—while others simply couldn’t get along with these non-human beings. Think of Veles: after he left, Alan even caught a glimpse of a fairy dance taking place in the shrubs beneath the windowsill.
Alan finally brought Lart back to his home.
Let’s set aside Little Green’s fierce protests and various impolite behaviors—it nearly jumped up like some impulsive village dog and tried to nip at Lart’s heels. In short, Alan had to spend some time coaxing the indignant little vine back into the jewelry box before he could finally have a moment to properly entertain Lart.
He poured Lart a cup of herbal tea, adding enough honey to satisfy a month’s worth of fairies, according to the man’s known preference. Then he served a small plate of freshly cut figs. Alongside the sweet, fragrant fruit, he placed pale yellow yogurt cheese and wafer-thin slices of golden-red ham.
Lart lifted the teacup, stirring the viscous, sweet tea with a teaspoon. As he sipped the warm brew, a gentle, nostalgic warmth appeared in his eyes.
“Your tea is still as good as ever… I haven’t tasted tea this delicious in a long time,” he said.
Alan, thinking of all the honey he had just added, responded with a wry smile:
“Even a normal person would probably struggle to make it the way you like.”
After all, no one could guess from the outside that Lart’s tastes were so… unique.
“Mmm, I had others try to make sweet tea following the recipe you gave, but no one could replicate your flavor,” Lart said, holding the cup with both hands. He looked up and gazed deeply at the little mage in front of him, speaking softly.
Night had already fallen, and the small house in the remote countryside was dimly lit.
At this moment, Lart’s deep blue eyes seemed especially profound.
“Ah… I see,” Alan said softly.
“I’ve been looking for you all this time. But the Adventurer’s Guild refused to give me your location—they said it was at your own request,” Lart said.
“Well… I just didn’t want to cause trouble for anyone.” Alan replied in a dry, flat tone, looking at the imposing figure of Lart and vaguely sensing that the atmosphere was turning uneasy.
Sure enough, the next moment Lart suddenly stood up and pulled Alan into a tight embrace.
The hard armor pressed against Alan’s shoulders.
“I’ve been thinking about what I should say when I finally saw you,” the tall captain of the Knights Order, for the first time, looked a little vulnerable. His voice was low and hoarse. “I should apologize, Alan. I’ve been thinking about that incident, and I am truly very sorry.”
Alan didn’t wait for Lart to finish.
He pushed against Lart’s chest and struggled painfully out of his embrace.
“Uh… actually, there’s really nothing to apologize for, it’s all in the past,” Alan stammered, then added, “Strictly speaking, I should be the one apologizing. I left the squad without permission, and I went into hiding. Haha… Captain, you don’t even know how furiously Jones scolded me. The letter from the Adventurer’s Guild that was forwarded to me was so thick it would take two owls to carry it! And when I opened it, it was nothing but Jones’s insults…”
Alan’s voice gradually dropped.
Because Lart was watching him, and that deep, unwavering gaze made it impossible for Alan to maintain a pretend smile.
Yes, although Alan still cherished the memories of his clumsy days as an adventurer and still held great respect for Captain Lart, their separation could not be called happy from any perspective.
In fact, if it weren’t for Lart, Alan might never have left the life of an adventurer to become a garden mage in a remote countryside.
Where should he even begin telling the story…?
Before he realized it, he had always thought that life in the adventurer’s party had been enjoyable.
It wasn’t until occasionally, in fleeting moments, that Alan noticed his captain seemed to be drifting away from him.
But when had the problem started?
Was it the mission to retrieve the stolen goods from the Mermaid Palace? Even though Lart was the strongest member of the team, he had become like a rookie, trapped in the illusions conjured by the mermaids and nearly drowned in the depths of the lake.
For reasons unknown, Alan, completely unaffected by mind magic, had to dive in to save him.
He administered artificial respiration on the shore, and when Lart opened his eyes, his face changed dramatically, and he shoved Alan away.
Lart’s expression at that moment was more terrifying than a corpse, and Alan still couldn’t bring himself to recall the look in Lart’s eyes.
Or perhaps it was the mission to the Seven Gods’ Altar to obtain the Divine Grace Crystal?
Due to an accident in the magical field, they had to strip off all their clothing and pass through the Trial Gate in complete purity.
It was supposed to be an easy mission, yet the divinely favored Lart, upon seeing Alan, stopped outside the Trial Gate and completely abandoned the task.
Or maybe it was that cursed rabbit-person ambush?
Alan had been deceived by a gentle and seemingly harmless rabbit-person and was kidnapped by the rampaging creature into an underground cavern.
He was almost overwhelmed by the rabbit-person in mating season, and it was only when Lart, like a god of war, smashed through the entire underground cavern that Alan was rescued.
At that time, Alan was partially unconscious and disheveled.
He couldn’t remember exactly what had happened, only that after Lart dragged him out of the cave, it was as if he had discarded a piece of trash—throwing the mage he had once considered a close friend onto the ground.
The golden-haired man disappeared for a full day and night. Upon returning to the squad, he became even more distant toward Alan.
…
In the end, even the slowest member of the team, the dwarf Jones, had noticed Lart’s strange behavior toward Alan.
“Hey, what on earth did you do to make that guy turn into such a mess? You two need to talk! Clearing up misunderstandings is more important than anything! Every time that old relic looks at you, I swear it feels like he wants to eat you…”
Amid Jones’s incessant chatter, Alan quietly reflected on all his own actions. He still couldn’t find anything he had done to anger Lart, but he resolved to find a chance to talk to him.
Just as Jones had said, clearing up misunderstandings was the most important thing.
However, when Alan finally found an opportunity to approach Lart, he overheard a conversation between the elf poet and Lart in the corner.
Nora, the elf, was the team’s vice-captain. Although a bit talkative, she was genuinely kind-hearted.
If even a dwarf had noticed something off between the captain and the mage, it was only natural that an elf would be aware as well.
At that time, Nora was trying her best to console Lart. Like Jones, she wanted the relationship between Lart and Alan to improve, ideally returning to how it had been before.
But…
“I want to leave the squad.”
Alan heard Lart’s trembling voice clearly.
He had never before heard Lart speak in such a tone. Known as the embodiment of the knight’s code, Lart was always composed, gentle, and strong. Yet at that moment, he sounded utterly crushed.
Every word that came out of his throat seemed unbearably heavy, filled with despair.
“I… cannot stay with Alan,” he said.
Nora was stunned.
“What are you talking about? You yourself told me that Alan is indispensable to the team! You were the one who brought him in! And he trusts you so much, respects you so much—”
Lart interrupted the elf poet’s questions in despair.
“I’m not losing my mind, Nora. But I can’t stay in the same party as Alan. I’ve tried… I really… I just can’t endure it…”
Alan didn’t hear the rest of Lart’s words.
At that moment, he had already quietly slipped away from the corner.
Even now, Alan still didn’t want to recall that night.
He had long known how weak he was. His spells were precise but utterly lacked destructive power. In an adventurer’s party, someone like Alan was indeed a burden. He had lost count of how many times he had survived life-or-death situations only thanks to Lart. Through all of that, an incredibly deep bond had formed between him and Lart.
And precisely because of that, Alan never imagined that the very person who had always been most protective of him—Lart—had been silently enduring all of it.
The next day, Alan was injured during a mission.
He naturally left the party under the pretense of recuperating, telling everyone that he would return once his injuries healed.
But then he went into hiding.
Using the Adventurer’s Guild’s pigeon system, he withdrew from the squad.
He received no fewer than a dozen letters in response, with his teammates expressing their longing and concern in various ways.
But among all those letters… there wasn’t a single one from Lart.
Perhaps, Alan thought, for Lart, his departure finally lifted a heavy weight from his heart.
The person no longer had to endure the burden in the party.
From that moment on, there was no trace of Lart in Alan’s life.
Until now.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Author’s note:
Lart thought he had got the script for chasing his wife to the crematorium. But in reality…
