“It’s not a big deal as to why I’m angry, it’s just an argument over the family inheritance.” Duarte sighed as he spoke, looking towards the ground in slight embarrassment.

“The family inheritance? Sorry for eavesdropping, but what you were arguing about didn’t seem trivial at all. A problem you had to address no matter what, right?”

“Well, I suppose so. It’s just that my father wants me to… inherit the family profession…” The teenager’s voice grew more hesitant towards the end of the sentence.

Although he made it out to be a small problem, it clearly meant a great deal to him.

“You mean to be a blacksmith?” Mican tilted his head curiously.

“To be a production blacksmith, yes. He wishes for me to inherit my mother’s smithing techniques, as I have the talent for it.”

“You mean, you don’t want to?”

“I… I do…” The young teenager spoke in a withered tone. “but I also don’t.”

The slight withering in his tone was pushed out by the end of the sentence, and Duarte spoke out the statement firmly, with a hardened look on his face. Looking closely, Mican noticed a firm glint of resolve gleaming in the teenager’s eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“I love my mother, just as much as my father, and I’m… not unwilling to inherit her will.” The teenager’s hands slowly curled into fists as he spoke. “but there are things I need to do.”

“You have a good father, Duarte.”

Even in Mican’s old world, where freedom was much more emphasised, his own father had not even given him the chance to decide for himself. Harold gave Duarte freedom, and a great deal of it seeing as to how the boy had been postponing the decision for some time. It almost made Mican envious. Almost.

“I know… I know very well, and it only makes the decision more difficult.” Duarte sighed gently before continuing. “Still, I want to become an adventurer, and I don’t wish to give up on this dream.”

“An adventurer?” As he heard the term, slight curiosity arose in Mican.

“Indeed, and not just any adventurer, but a strong and famous one.”

“Why? What’s so special about becoming an adventurer?”

As the conversation continued on, Mican felt the desire to further encourage the teenager into speaking. Although he had started out comforting Duarte for the goodwill of the Ashleye family, he saw a valuable chance here, a chance to learn more.

“My dad always treats me as young and stupid, but he just doesn’t get it. The only one who understands in this world is my sister, and maybe my mom, if she was still alive…” The teenager grew more energetic in his speech as he continued.

“Throughout the entire course of my life, I’ve seen a load of horrible problems. Of course, I can’t compare to people like you or my dad, but I’ve seen enough. I’ve seen people dying, I’ve seen them dead. I’ve seen them have their throats slit by the weak. I’ve seen them lying on the ground with their entrails hanging out, a remnant of a passing war.”

He took a deep breath before continuing.

“I’ve seen their rotting corpses being eaten by crows. I’ve seen parents selling their own children to escape from the horrible hunger, and loving mothers reduced to whores for even the chance of a meal. I’ve seen a sickness that would kill you in a single week, making you grow black lumps all over your body.”

The young teenager grew only more impassioned as time went on.

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“I’ve seen the disgusting monsters drag my close friends to their graves, kicking and shouting as they died a screaming death.” The black-haired boy looked up at the ceiling to the inn, his gaze slightly murky. “I’ve seen the wind and rain claiming lives as if a farmer on a wheat field. I’ve seen the ground literally crack from the lack of hydration.”

“I’ve seen the corrupt merchants run people over with their carriages, with no consequences. They were fine people, Mister Mican! Fine people!” The youth’s face grew flushed as he choked slightly on his words. “Fine people living fine lives, that died horrible deaths, gone in the blink of an eye!”

Mican could only stare back at the teenager in response, completely shocked.

“There’s only one way to avoid such a cruel fate, Mister Mican. That is becoming an adventurer. All of these situations, all of this, it could all be avoided with power. The power to control your own life.” The boy’s eyes grew slightly misty as he spoke. “If I had such a power, perhaps my mother would not have died such an ignoble death.”

“I know very well that both I and my family could likely have shared such a fate, if my mother had not joined the Willow Caravan… If Boss Melinda did not protect the members of her caravan like she does… but I don’t want to live and die like that.” The resolve that was gleaming in the teenager’s eyes was now displayed across his entire face. “I want to explore the world and experience all sorts of things. I want to become strong enough to protect my sister and father, without needing to depend on anybody else!”

By the time he finished his impassioned speech, the boy found himself standing on the ground of the room, his fists clenched towards the ground.

As his voice faded away, it was as if a complete silence overcame the room, as if the noises of the drunkards and the partygoers were completely absent. The only noticeable activity were the lights still dancing outside the stained-glass window.

It was safe to say that Mican was completely shocked by Duarte and his speech, his eyes widened and his mouth hanging slightly open.

While Duarte acted older than he appeared, Mican could have never guessed that his mind harbored such grand and profound thoughts. Mican couldn’t recall the last time he had met someone with such a deep insight on the world, and on his own situation. Duarte was self-aware, determined, full of resolve and courageousness. On top of that, he was even clever.

People usually wouldn’t be given such high evaluations in Mican’s mind, but Duarte was allowed one as he had seen horrible sights and had been through gruesome experiences from what he said. Even despite that, his determination in becoming an adventurer only seemed to grow, and it raised Mican’s evaluation of the young man, Duarte.

He didn’t know whether or not it was an experience unique to travellers in a travelling caravan, or if such sights were commonplace in this world, but either way he realized that he had been slightly underestimating this new world, even despite all of his precautions. To think that Duarte and by extension, Sarah, had been through the world at such a young age.

Perhaps the calming light had an effect on the blacksmith’s son, or perhaps Mican’s listening skills soothed him, making him talk more than he otherwise would have. Becoming aware of his loose mouth, Duarte quickly broke out of his slight trance, sitting back down on the chair in a sheepish manner.

Mican leaned forward on his seat, calming his emotions which had been affected by Duarte’s blood-boiling speech. He then looked the young teenager right in the eyes.

“Duarte, I understand your plight, I truly do. I’ve been fully impressed by your comprehension and cleverness. I’m sure your father also understands, although you may not believe him. I’ll be straightforward with you as you’ve decided to share this with me.” The young man gave a slight sigh before addressing the teen again. “You may not fully understand the decision you are trying make, despite your determination.

It took a while for the teenager to fully understand what Mican meant, his facial features freezing over stared at the sitting man.

“Really? Well, who knows. Maybe you’re right.” The black-haired boy crossed his arms as an indifferent expression settled on his face, slightly turning away from Mican.

Mican had expected this sort of reaction from the teenager. Although he didn’t say it, he was clearly quite proud of his comprehension skills, determination, and wisdom at such a young age. It was not to mention that he had spilled his heart out to Mican but had gotten only a seemingly superficial answer in return.

“Trust me, Duarte.”

“You wouldn’t understand, Mister Mican. It is fine, though.” He was clearly hurt by the seemingly patronizing advice.

“Duarte, I understand more than you know.”

Reaching into one of the pockets on his shirt, Mican shuffled around for a while before reaching his hand back out, a bronze gleam flashing from the item held within his fingers. The gleam attracted the teenager’s curious gaze, and he turned to face the young man.

Pushing his hand forth, Mican handed the item to Duarte. The item was a bronze pendant, in the shape of a tag. It had a tough string lined in a circle from the end of the pendant.

“An adventurer’s pendant!” Duarte exclaimed out loud, his eyes widening in shock.

Looking up from the pendant back to Mican, he gave the young man a deep look, viewing him in another, more positive light.