The scattered adventurers returned.
[Jeez, Quagmire, you are a ridiculously strong guy...]
[Seems that return trip from the Demon Continent paid off.]
[But still, to defeat THAT, you have to be on another level of strong!]
The companions unanimously praised Quagmire, but he remained humble about it, not giving in to arrogance.
He knew that acting arrogant now would just cause friction for everyone.
[The raid was close to certain death, right? I mean, I didn't think for a second that I could defeat this thing just by myself you know... But that matter aside, we need to figure out how all of us are going to handle looting this Dragon's corpse for the return trip.]
So he extends the sense of achievement of successfully slaying the dragon to every one of the adventurers.
In doing so, he ensures that fame of his name is spread throughout the country.
[All of us...? Are you good with that?]
[I can't loot it all by myself, and if I leave it here, monsters will just devour it. Get what can be gotten, because I must burn the body soon. It'll be problematic if it becomes a Dragon Zombie.]
Thus, the day of the Quagmire is over.
Actually, locating the Red Dragon and returning from the trip took about seven actual days, but the [day] of the Quagmire was over.
Today's harvest was materials from the Red Dragon.
After selling a fortune's worth of materials, he returns to his bed with a warm feeling in his chest.
Before turning in to bed, he stops for a meal at the bar and eats a substantially smaller amount of food as compared to his breakfast.
He who is devoted, prays to God gratefully for passing yet another day safely.
The Good Night ritual is not something seen or known to others, but it is an important thing to him.
Because it meant that now that the day of having to be the Quagmire is over, he can resume his search for his long lost family on the morrow.
--- From Rudeus's point of view ---
The nightly event.
I am eating a meal as usual in the bar.
Of course I'm by myself.
The meal is just enough for myself.
This guy is rich and lonely.
But it's not like it's a bad thing.
Because I hate being crowded anyways.
[It was right at that moment! The Red Dragon had appeared!]
On the stage in the bar, three minstrels brought with them their instruments and began to play.
One stands in front of the others and with a sweet sounding voice, spins a tale. The two others perform the background music accordingly, joining in with a JARAN~ sound effect.
The Minstrel.
It's an occupation that makes money by being commissioned as entertainment by singing about or reciting poetic tales.
In the case of a big town, it's normal to be part of a Theater and to have exclusive contracts to certain places.
But it's not just that.
Adventurers with the occupation [Minstrel] are splendid people.
They sing of their travels with other adventurers, and the tales they twist are funny and exciting.
The affinity between an adventurer and minstrel is good.
In addition, in this world without copyright, on a daily basis, the tales they hear are often taken in and retold in a new and unique way.
There are also the times when some minstrels gather, share ideas, and evolve their craft.
Among them, those with different instruments often party up by forming a band and travelling the world.
Of course, even they have enough skill to fight against monsters.
A singing, dancing, fighting adventurer.
In this world, that is what a Minstrel is!
Occasionally, this party of three minstrels I'm watching have been seen in the Adventurer's Guild from time to time.
They must have been a C-rank party.
Their name was [Big Voice Band].
It was a wonderfully ostentatious name.
However, they weren't really talented, and their own works were unpopular.
In an effort to keep creating something more popular, I received an interview request about this and that and the subjugation job I did the other day.
The song being sung now is the story they heard me tell of my journey.
I consider the one who's singing.
Is he doing alright?
Hmm, it’s okay.
In my previous life, I was crazy about music.
I tried to produce a song for a certain Vocaloid[2], but it ended up as a complete failure.
Since then, the only musical instrument I continue to say I can play is the KETSU-Drum. [3]
I am always up to the task to play those drums.
They twisted a tale just from the story I told them of what happened.
Even if they aren't talented, their creativeness will at least be accepted.
The song is played in the style of a village's storytelling old gramps.
It reminds me of a television documentary program.
It should be interesting to hear it.
But the narration is bland, and the song will likely remain unpopular.
Even if they were to change it now, the heckling has already started.
Even I, the actual hero of the story, would say it is terrible.
Around the time I'm thinking such things...
BAM!
Suddenly the door to the bar is thrown open.
A chilly air blew in.
Eyes stared.
People trembled.
[At last I've finally found you, "Rudeus of the Quagmire"!]
There stood a member of the Long Ear Tribe with hair like French bread.
While it looked like an adventurer, its clothes were suitably dress-like.
It wore a backpack and had a sword and shield hung around the waist.
The only word needed to describe her face was Beautiful.
Almond eyes, long ears, and lustrous blonde hair.
A slender body with a flat chest and long ears.
It certainly feels like this is what's called an 'Elf'.
Before she could point a finger.
All eyes were fixed on me.
[Geh... "Quagmire" ...isn't here...?]