Gun of Ashes

”Rounding it off, you basically saved my life, Lorenzo.”

Hebdo pushed open the tavern door, motioning Lorenzo to follow him in.

”Actually, I didn’t think much of it at the time, but later, while lying in the hospital, Red Falcon rambled a bunch of nonsense to me.”

”Red Falcon?”

Lorenzo was a bit puzzled as he walked into the tavern. The interior decor was quite in line with Viking style, with round shields and blade and axe hanging on the walls, cow horn cups scattered on the tables, and of course, the lingering strange smell.

Lorenzo wasn’t sure how others felt, but to him, it kind of felt like returning home... However, it was strange that there weren’t many guests here; aside from the bartender, Lorenzo and Hebdo seemed to be the only patrons.

”Yes, Red Falcon. He lay in bed, yelling randomly, without fearing death even after escaping it. Thinking back to Maruri, he was the same; this guy was so happy-go-lucky, he didn’t care about life or death at all.”

Hebdo casually chose a table to sit down, as his expression became somewhat nuanced in reminiscence.

”Vikings don’t fear death because we yearn for the Heroic Spirit Hall afterward, but obviously for Red Falcon, there’s nothing for him after death. I asked him why he felt that way.

Red Falcon told me that based on his life trajectory, if nothing unexpected happened, he would have died in some dirty corner of the Lower City District years ago. The Purification Mechanism saved his life, giving him a somewhat decent job and a stable residence.”

”Although for Red Falcon, it was like crawling from one hellhole to another that wasn’t so bad, at least he survived.”

The bartender staggered over, serving two large bottles of beer for them, with dense foam floating above the liquid and a few ice cubes suspended within.

”He told me that from then on, every day he lives is a bonus.”

”A bonus?”

Lorenzo laughed at the word.

Hebdo couldn’t help but laugh too, shaking his head helplessly as he did.

”That guy is overly optimistic, but when you think about it, there’s some truth to it. I should have died in Maruri, but I came back alive, thanks to you,” Hebdo said, taking a big swig from his cup. ”Every day I live now is an unexpected blessing.”

”That sounds quite nice.”

Lorenzo thought of the past because of Hebdo’s words, but he didn’t dwell too much on it. He just touched lightly on that memory before pulling back.

”It seems we’ve all stolen some time from the Death God.”

Lorenzo commented softly, his fingers rubbing the cup. Beneath the rough texture, he could distinguish every crack.

”So how’s Red Falcon now? Why didn’t he come with you guys?” Hebdo asked.

”We had to leave in a hurry. Red Falcon’s injuries haven’t healed yet, and the main thing is that the guy demanded a vacation. When we went to Maruri, he was dragged back halfway through his leave,” Lorenzo explained, thinking of Red Falcon’s downcast face as he added.

”Let him rest a bit. Even the most optimistic person can’t be pushed too hard.”

”And what about you? Don’t you need some rest? After blowing Maruri to bits, you rushed here without a break. Sometimes I think you’re like a disaster magnet, Lorenzo.”

Hebdo said with a chuckle.

”Alright, alright, but what did you bring me out here for? Just to taste your Viking beer?”

Lorenzo glanced at the floating ice cubes in his drink, their impurities visible to the naked eye, with some grit frozen within.

”I guess these ice cubes were fished out from the sea, right? Pure and natural, the taste of nature.”

The taste was a bit off, but Lorenzo didn’t mind it.

”It’s not just about the drinking...” Hebdo began, but his voice was interrupted by another person.

”Mainly because I wanted to see you.”

Before Lorenzo could look up to find the source of the voice, a man appeared before him, placing the tray he carried on the table, filled with steaming roast meat and beer.

The man sat down and took a hearty swig from his cup.

At some point, the bartender had already left, leaving the tavern with just the three of them.

”We have plenty of time; no one will interrupt us,” the man continued.

Lorenzo examined his face—an aged-looking man, with his face eroded by the cold wind and sharp blade and axe etching scars into it. He looked weary, yet his eyes were brimming with energy.

”Um... do you Vikings have any customs or rituals?”

Lorenzo turned to Hebdo, regretting not asking Bola more, but life is probably like this, always throwing unexpected events at you, catching you off guard.

”Don’t mind that, Mr. Holmes.”

The man said with a smile.

Lorenzo swallowed hard, the sudden encounter making him a bit uneasy, but he quickly adapted, displaying a smile halfway between friendly and cheeky.

”Hello, Your Majesty.”

...

The current king of the Viking nations, the world-renowned King of the Ice Sea, Ragnar Rodbrock.

He was sitting right across from Lorenzo, one hand holding a cup, watching the foam rise in the liquid, pondering something.

”So, let me think about how to start.”

He showed no pretense of a king, and through his mannerisms, you could still see the raw wildness. His exposed skin was covered with scars and burn marks.