[a/n Warning dark ]
After that, I alternated between training and resting, recounting my experiences one by one to Merilyn.
Most of the stories were unpleasant.
Given the state of the world, stories involving death had inevitably crept in at some point.
"From what I've heard, it seems you've experienced quite a lot of harsh situations. Did you often witness people you were with dying?"
"Yes, well. It's that kind of world, after all."
As I responded, I charged forward.
My spear swiftly pierced through the center of a straw dummy, scattering fragments everywhere and showcasing its might.
It was the moment that my newfound familiarity with the spearman... No, the lancer class shone through.
But what stood out more was the performance of the spear.
Its durability—unscathed even after multiple uses—and the power to easily slaughter a straw dummy made of wood and straw were impressive.
With a bit more practice swinging the spear, it seemed possible to easily strike down enemies by thrusting this mighty weapon at the desired spot.
"So it feels a bit unfair. I just chose tasks with high rewards, but everyone talks about me being a hero killer and such."
Pondering these personal assessments, I continued responding to Merilyn's comments, but she just stared at me silently, not uttering another word.
Her eyes still seemed to smile, but that also appeared to be out of habit.
The fact that the corners of her mouth were not raised indicated that she was not enjoying the stories I had shared thus far.
"...Ahaha, are these stories not very good?"
"It's not that I think they're bad. I just don't think they're the kind of stories to be shared with a smile."
A serious voice matched my ambiguous smile.
As she sat there, the way she caressed the lute in her hand was tinged with a significant amount of bitterness.
"I am but a humble jester."
Her fingers moved in time with the rhythm of the verse that followed.
-Ding-a-ling~
With that, the music began.
It was also an answer to my question.
"The duty of a jester is to wander the world, fabricating stories heard, and to be judged by new acquaintances... And the stories thus conveyed can't always be pleasant."
Yes, the atmosphere was very melancholic, unlike the continuous flow until now.
"If it's sad, then let it be sad. If it's funny, then let it be funny. That is also an expression of one aspect of the world... So I just listen. No matter how much survival has turned into a cheap joke in this era, for those who have come to this land seeking salvation, life feels far more precious than death."
-Ding-a-ling♬
At that moment, the refreshing sound of the lute plucked at a slow tempo.
Just listening to it conveyed the loneliness embedded in her voice.
"...Yes, that's right. Not every story has to be cheerful."
Even a dirge sung at a funeral was meant to release sorrow, so how could a singer always seek only joy?
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I Became a Foreign Worker Loved by Transcendents
Action[the i do not own and fanfic that is heavily inspired by the original work][Author(s)글로벌레[dark fantasy] Description [Unique Trait - Those you meet will remember you. No matter what happens, they will remember you forever.] In a world on the brink of...
