The Terminally Ill Hero’s Husband is the Demon King

Iber held out his hand and shook hands with each person in turn. Gillian, caught off guard, shook hands with Iber as well. The short mercenary looked at Iber and said,

“Iber? Never heard of you.”

“You don’t know me? If you don’t know me around these parts, making money will be hard for you.”

“Aren’t you full of confidence? A hunter, hiring mercenaries?”

“If you’re too suspicious, you’ll go hungry. Winter is still a long way off, and hunting season is just beginning, so why don’t the two of you finish up the work you’ve taken quickly and come join us? I’ll give you an advance just for joining, so don’t worry.”

The mercenaries nodded. Even if they didn’t take it later, it was good to have a possible job as insurance. Iber told them how to find him at Hundred-Year Fortress.

“Then what about this mister here? You look like a traveler with no work and too much time, too. Don’t just idle around. Come make some money with me. You don’t have to feel pressured, since you don’t necessarily have to hunt wolves or bears. Even rabbits or deer can bring in decent money if you catch them.”

Iber laughed and pressed his fist firmly against Gillian’s shoulder before pulling it away. It seemed to be his habit to act freely even with people he had just met, as if treating them like friends. Gillian refused.

“Thank you for the offer, but I’m not interested in hunting. I have to go to Gray Mountain.”

“This friend’s been interested in the Demon King since earlier. Did you come looking for the Demon King? Are you a minstrel?”

“Come on, he doesn’t have an instrument for that.”

At Iber’s question, the mercenary answered. Iber laughed, then said,

“If your voice is the instrument, you don’t need to carry one.”

“That could be true, I guess? Hm, his voice does sound nice, huh? Is he really a poet?”

“No, I enjoy listening to stories, but that’s all. I heard your stories well. I’m tired, so I’ll go first. I’ll pay for the drinks.”

As a sign of thanks, Gillian took coins from his pouch and placed them on the mercenaries’ table. It was enough to cover not only what they had already drunk, but one or two more cups besides. The mercenaries, delighted, waved at Gillian. When Gillian left the restaurant, Iber followed him.

“Mister! Hey, Mr. Poet! If you’re planning to go to Gray Mountain, come with me. Since you’re bored, think it over while we go together.”

“I’m more comfortable moving alone.”

“This is your first time here, isn’t it? I’ll guide you well. I’ll feed you something good, too. Ah, right, I’ll tell you stories about the Demon King. How about it?”

Gillian stopped walking. Iber was someone who wandered Gray Mountain and made a living by hunting. There was a high chance he knew something about the Demon King.

“I’m tired today, so I’ll sleep here before going.”

“Good. I know an inn with an incredible bath. Want to go together? If you soak yourself deep in hot, fragrant water, there won’t be anything in the world to envy.”

When Gillian gestured as if telling him to lead the way, Iber set off first. He frequently looked back to make sure Gillian wasn’t slipping down some side road, then eventually moved to walk right beside him. The violet and indigo left in the sky darkened into night. The light leaking from the buildings looked all the warmer.

Even when he entered the inn Iber guided him to, Gillian had no idea he would be bathing in the same place as Iber. He should have realized when Iber paid the bathing fee for two and asked them to prepare it.

While the bathwater was being prepared, Gillian rented a small room and sat there blankly for a while. Before long, a maid knocked on the door, saying the water was ready. Gillian followed the maid into a damp room where the bathtubs had been prepared.