Chapter 30 _ The Heat of Triumph, or When Two Heartbeats Overlap
The moment we pushed open the heavy doors of the Adventurers’ Guild,
we were swallowed by an explosion of cheers.
As the lingering glow of teleportation faded,
what lay upon the stone floor of the guild hall
was the massive corpse of an Ogre Lord—
well over five meters tall.
Steel-like skin.
Arms thicker than tree trunks.
At the sight of that overwhelming presence,
adventurers who had been drinking moments earlier
kicked their chairs aside and leapt to their feet.
“You’re kidding… That’s an Ogre Lord!”
“These kids actually did it!?”
The hall shook with thunderous applause.
—But not everyone was smiling.
At the edge of the crowd,
I spotted a familiar face.
“An acquaintance who keeps losing?”
The man who had laughed like that
on the day I first came to ask about Iris.
Our eyes met.
For just a moment, his lips twitched,
and he awkwardly looked away.
More rough-looking adventurers pushed forward,
faces flushed with excitement, footsteps pounding like a quake.
The pressure made me tense instinctively.
“Well, this wasn’t exactly our skill alone—”
My attempt at modesty was cut short
by a heavy hand landing on my shoulder.
I turned to see Roger—Wilfred—
leaning close and whispering sharply,
his voice low enough that no one else could hear.
“…You did it. That’s all there is to it.
Those who crawl through the mud and fight desperately
earn the right to taste the fruit.
…Understood, Mario?”
Before I could respond,
he disappeared calmly into the noise with Hans,
heading toward the bar at the back of the hall.
At the center of all that excitement
stood Iris.
Once mocked as “the mage who always loses,”
she had lived hidden behind disgrace and humiliation.
Until yesterday,
the air of this guild must have felt like blades against her skin.
But now—
Men raised their fists, praising her valor.
Women stared wide-eyed at her brilliant achievement.
“You did it, Iris! I misjudged you!”
“You’re amazing!”
Her name was called again and again with pride,
as if all the old insults had been lies.
Slowly—trembling—
Iris lifted her face.
In her emerald-blue eyes,
tears welled up, ready to spill.
They were not tears of despair.
They were the drops of release—
the shackles on her heart finally melting away.
“Iris… congratulations,” I said softly.
“Come on. This is the hero’s job.
You’re the one who writes the report.”
When I gently pressed her forward,
she answered in a shaking voice.
“…Yeah… thank you.
This is because of you, Mario…”
As she gripped the quill with trembling fingers,
I kept my hand lightly on her back.
(Come to think of it… Frey slipped away again.
For all her complaints, she’s the best at reading the room.)
I silently thanked my master—
and at the same time,
made a quiet decision of my own.
After submitting the report,
we stepped out of the guild.
The sky shifted from crimson to deep indigo.
A cool night breeze brushed our heated skin,
still alive with the aftermath of battle.
We walked side by side,
needing no words.
“I was scared…
but knowing you were beside me,
my chanting never broke.”
“I felt the same.
Without you, I’d be inside an ogre’s stomach by now.”
We laughed softly.
We reached the familiar crossroads—
the place where we usually parted.
But this time,
I didn’t stop.
I squeezed her small, warm hand
and walked toward the inn instead.
Iris’s eyes widened for a second—
then, as if she understood,
she squeezed my hand back, firmly.
Her fingertips trembled,
with anticipation and nervousness.
At the inn’s counter, I spoke.
“Excuse me.
Two tokens for the steam bath, please.”
The landlady smiled warmly,
as if she saw everything.
“Oh my, Mario.
…You’ve grown a fine face.
Have a good night.”
Iris blushed all the way to the tips of her ears
and buried her face against my shoulder.
The “steam bath” run by the town’s bakery.
Warm vapor poured from massive stone ovens,
gently loosening muscles abused by battle
and hearts held tight for far too long.
Surrounded by rising steam,
we finally felt it—
the hellish half-year we’d endured
had become something distant,
something survivable.
Back in the room,
the moment the heavy wooden door closed—
we embraced each other, tightly,
as if we might break.
In the dark room,
moonlight from the window traced her pale skin.
Again and again, our lips met.
Her warmth.
Her racing heartbeat.
The faint sound of her breath.
Everything was precious.
My chest felt ready to burst.
And then—
for the first time,
I held all of her.
Iris’s slender body trembled softly.
Not the trembling of something forced upon her by a knight long ago,
but the trembling of someone choosing—
with her own will—
to accept the man she loved.
“…Are you okay?” I whispered.
She looked up at me with moist eyes
and wrapped her thin arms around my back.
“…Yeah.
With you, Mario…
I feel like I can go anywhere.”
Those words stirred my soul
more powerfully than any magic.
After staring into the abyss of death,
the heat of our touching skin
became proof that we were alive—
etched deeply into my heart.
That night,
we forgot the coming of dawn,
seeking each other again and again.
Morning.
Soft light filtered through the curtains,
illuminating two bodies entwined on the bed.
Beside me, Iris slept peacefully,
her long lashes trembling faintly.
Watching her sleeping face,
I thought—
A shut-in who had stood at the edge of despair in another world
had taken up arms to protect someone,
and learned what love was.
I could never return
to being “no one.”
And I didn’t need to.
No matter what harsh fate lay ahead—
I would protect this warmth.
In this world,
I would live together with Iris.
In the clear morning air,
I etched that resolve into my heart—
quietly,
but with the hardness of steel.
