Chapter 11.1, The Holy Warriors’ Vow
| The Principle of a Philosopher by Eternal Fool “Asley” | Next Chapter>>
In a time long past, the Devil King had been vanquished…
As the Sacred Calendar approached its end, Giorno, one of the legendary Holy Warriors, had settled in a modest town.
The house of the Hero who had once defeated the Devil King was neither grand nor humble.
Giorno’s once-handsome face had aged, now softened with gentle lines and a bit of stubble.
Sitting before a simple meal of milk, bread, and warm soup, he let out a sigh of contentment.
“Phew…”
He took a bite of the bread, chewed, and swallowed.
When the bread stuck in his throat, Giorno grimaced slightly and massaged his throat before washing it down with milk. He let out another, more relieved breath.
“…Phew.”After patting his chest and rubbing his face, Giorno finished the milk and soup, leaving the bread behind.
He took his sword, which leaned against the wall, and strapped it to his waist. As he stepped outside, a familiar face made him smile.
“…Hey, long time no see.”
His voice carried a warmth reserved for old friends.
The person before him was none other than Lylia, an Elf and his comrade from the days they battled the Devil King together.
Her hair, a blend of white and green, swayed in the breeze, and her eyes, the same color, gazed at him kindly. She covered her mouth as she laughed.
Then she pointed at Giorno’s facial hair–
“Pfft– hahah! What’s with that beard?”
“Is it that bad? It’s pretty popular at the training grounds, though…”
“It’s terrible. And what’s this about a training ground?”
“I started it recently. I don’t have much to offer, but I think small efforts like this can advance our skills… and help him.”
“That’s quite a long-term perspective.”
“You’re still searching for your own ways too, aren’t you, Lylia?”
Lylia, Giorno’s steadfast ally and fellow warrior against the Devil King, stood before him.
“It really has been a while. Five years, right? The last time was when we ate together with Bright, Ferris, and Chappie.”
“Yeah. Who knows where those three are now…”
“There’s not even a trace of their arcane energy left. It’s impressive how they’re able to hide themselves so thoroughly, considering they were his top disciples and a Heavenly Beast.”
“Your manner of speaking hasn’t changed at all, but you’re awfully respectful when it comes to Asley.”
Giorno chuckled at her observation.
“Hahaha, I guess. But I can’t help but respect him. His achievements were extraordinary.”
“Asley is a friend. You don’t need to be so formal.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
With that, Giorno stuck out his tongue playfully. Lylia sighed, exasperated.
“Think about your age. That beard doesn’t suit you at all.”
“That’s odd. You haven’t changed much either, Lylia.”
“Don’t lump Elves and humans together.”
“But you do nag a lot more now. Yep, you’re definitely aging too.”
At Giorno’s comment, Lylia turned away, her nose in the air.
“So, what brings you here today?”
“Do I need a reason to visit?”
“Not exactly, but you must have one.”
“Well, I do. But aren’t you supposed to be at the training ground?”
“Oh, right! If you’re not in a hurry, want to come along?”
Giorno pointed towards the training ground, asking Lylia.
She groaned but didn’t object, which Giorno took as agreement. He smiled again and started walking, with Lylia silently following, observing the town.
“This town is quite unremarkable.”
“It’s a rebuilt village that was destroyed by the Devil King. It can’t be helped. Oh, the egg tart at the tavern next to the Adventurers’ Guild is delicious. Want to try it later?”
“Sure, why not… But how do you even know that, anyway? With the monsters under control, it’s rare for people to go to the Adventurers’ Guild nowadays.”
“Well, that’s precisely why the tavern is trying new things. I go there for various other reasons.”
Lylia caught the deeper meaning in Giorno’s words.
“…Even if things are calmer, monsters are still dangerous. I understand why you’re in demand, but it’s degrading the quality of adventurers.”
“That’s what the training ground is for… Haha.”
Giorno’s awkward laugh made Lylia tilt her head in curiosity.
They soon arrived at a building filled with rows of people.
“”Good morning!””
The synchronized greeting welcomed Giorno and Lylia.
“…This is a lot more than I expected.”
“In numbers only,” Giorno muttered what seemed to be a complaint, which Lylia quickly understood after observing his disciples’ movements.
Her mouth formed a thin line as she gave him a knowing look.
Despite managing numerous trainees, Giorno didn’t break a sweat as he saw them off.
When the last disciple left, Giorno finally spoke,
“You didn’t say a word back there. Looks like you’ve actually matured a bit, eh, Lylia?”
“What the hell was that?”
“Mostly aristocracts’ kids.”
“Makes sense… Their outfits and swords were flashy, but their movements didn’t match.”
“Haha, I knew you’d notice. In this day and age, few pursue the sword. Most of them want my connections or the prestige of being taught by me…”
Giorno’s expression turned somber, and Lylia fell silent.
“If that’s the case, why bother teaching them?”
“Some of them have real talent. You noticed a few, didn’t you?”
“One or two, maybe.”
Lylia’s face twisted in a reluctant admission.
“If I can pass on even a bit of my swordsmanship, it’ll be worth it. It’s crucial… to help him.”
“…You’ve changed.”
“You’re one to talk.”
Giorno’s retort left Lylia speechless.
He chuckled softly.
“Haha — ngh…! Ack! Cough, cough…!”
“Serves you right for mocking a sacred Elf.”
Lylia turned away, and failed to notice how Giorno’s hand had a faint red stain.
He clenched his hand, hiding it from her, and wiped his mouth.
“Ahaha… Maybe you’re right.”
“Well, since you’re raking in money from those kids, how about you treat me today?”
“Of course. Wait outside while I wash up.”
“You didn’t even break a sweat.”
Without looking back, Giorno said, “I need to be at my best to escort a sacred elf,” and headed deeper into the building.
Once Lylia stepped outside, Giorno examined his hand. His usual cheerful demeanor vanished as he stared at his own blood.
It was a brief — very brief — moment of vulnerability. He looked in the mirror, smiled, then murmured to the reflection, as if speaking to someone beyond it.
“Asley, my man… This might be tougher than the Devil King.”
◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆
While Lylia waited outside, Giorno emerged, looking as he always did.
“Shall we go? Seems like you have something to discuss too.”
“It’s tough even finding the Adventurers’ Guild with my weak magic.”
“Ahaha… times have changed. Now that God’s blessings have returned, we’re the odd ones out. Those who survived that battle are scattered or working for the Holy Empire. Now, this way…”
“I still feel like you’re mocking me,” Lylia said, following him with a pout.
They passed through the commercial district and arrived at a quiet alley where the Adventurers’ Guild stood.
“The building’s new, but it still feels deserted.”
“You could become a regular, you know.”
“Are you suggesting I move here?”
“Only if you feel like it.”
Giorno opened the door to the Guild.
Inside, it was customary for sharp eyes to greet anyone entering — but that only applied if there were any adventurers present. Such was not the case today.
“Not a single adventurer,” Lylia noted.
“Even the receptionist is missing,” Giorno added with a chuckle.
“It’s lunchtime, but still… not having a replacement is just sloppy.”
“Well, we’re here for the tavern anyway.”
Giorno pointed toward the attached tavern, where the owner raised a hand in greeting.
Giorno nodded back and chose the farthest table, ensuring their conversation remained private.
The tavern owner glanced at Lylia and spoke up,
“C-could you be… Lady Lylia, the Fighter?”
Lylia didn’t respond, but Giorno beamed.
“Yes, she’s my dearest friend.”
“Good God, she’s quite the beauty…”
Hearing the owner’s unflattering words, Giorno grinned at Lylia… who steadfastly stared at the wall, ignoring both men.
“Did I say something wrong?” the owner asked Giorno nervously.
“Naaah, don’t think so. She’s probably just shy.”
Giorno’s comment made Lylia snap.
“EGG TART!”
“”Huh?””
“Owner! Bring me the egg tart!”
Her cheeks flushed, Lylia’s sudden order — or rather, demand — startled the owner.
Giorno, on the other hand, started chuckling.
“C-coming right up!”
“Ahahaha… And two vegetable juices, please.”
Lylia didn’t object to Giorno avoiding alcohol for lunch.
“Two ales!”
…Actually, she did.
Despite her insistence, Giorno stuck to his choice, leading to an odd scene: two ales before Lylia and two vegetable juices before Giorno.
“You’re no fun,” Lylia grumbled.
“It’s still early.”
“I can use the Recover spell, you know.”
Despite knowing that the suggested spell could completely detoxify the alcohol, Giorno still shook his head.
“I have a reputation to uphold. If the townsfolk see me drinking, rumors will start.”
“So you think I have no class?”
“You don’t live here, so it’s different.”
“Always so evasive. Fine, I’ll play along.”
Lylia took a bite of her egg tart, her usual scowl quickly replaced with a rare look of contentment.
“…This is really delicious,” Lylia remarked.
“Told you. It’s my favorite,” Giorno replied, but it seemed Lylia hadn’t heard him.
She took another hearty bite of the egg tart.
“Impressive as always. That’s Lylia for you,” Giorno said, watching her.
He had never forgotten how Lylia had once been the eating champion of Sodom’s city, a title now held by Pochi. Regardless, her appetite remained undiminished.
“Mmh! Gwimmeh ahh lush muor auf theseh!” she mumbled through a mouthful of tart.
“I doubt anyone can understand that. Oh, she wants ‘a lot more of these,’ by the way,” Giorno translated for the amused tavern owner.
“Coming right up!” The owner’s cheerful voice rang out from the counter.
Lylia’s hands didn’t stop, and she quickly devoured all the prepared egg tarts. The owner, smiling, set about making more.
Meanwhile, Giorno…
“Giorno, what’s wrong?” Lylia asked.
“Can’t you tell? I’m looking at my wallet.”
“Why are you looking at it?”
“I’d hoped you’d think about that before asking…” Giorno sighed deeply, glancing at Lylia, who tilted her head in confusion.
“Owner! I eagerly await the next batch!”
Lylia’s mind was completely consumed by food. Giorno watched her with a wry smile.
| The Principle of a Philosopher by Eternal Fool “Asley” | Next Chapter>>