In the end, I relented in the face of an all-you-can-eat buffet of delicacies, but Tussa-san still insisted that I refuse.

“I was at the front of the line! And you, Sumire! You just pop out of nowhere!”

“S, Sorry…”

“I still can’t stand you snatching Fikar from me, but you don’t need more marriage proposals, do you?! Then you could’ve just given it to me!”

As I started feeling smaller and smaller in front of the hannya, the 7:3-part representative, concluding his hushed conversation with his fellow organizers, raised his hand to interject.

“About that~… What if we leave the dancing to Sumire-san and have Tussa-san perform the rites of devotion?”

“There’s no precedent explicitly against having two Sorceresses.”

“Sumire-san will be in the lineup, but Tussa-san will be the one reading the prayers.”

“If anything, the role of Sorceress is mainly for that ritual.”

Tussa-san thought for a moment about the organizers’ proposal before expressing her approval. Rather than being selfish and saying she still wanted everything, which wouldn’t have worked at this stage, she chose a path that made sure someone would propose to her.

I was very grateful that I wouldn’t have to perform a complex ritual that I knew almost nothing about.

But I still had some concerns.

“Um… If Tussa-san and I want the same dish, do we play rock-paper-scissors for it?”

“I’m not a glutton! Don’t lump us together!!”

Thus, time for dance practice was inserted into our laid-back schedule.

On a side note, I was praised by the townspeople for being selected to play the Sorceress.

As it would seem, this would be the first time in seven years that the Sorceress hailed from Tortea and the first time since Cecile-san had played the role for three years in a row. Up until that point, if, one year, a woman was possessed by a perversity mushroom in Tortea, next year it would be a woman in Carcathia, and vice versa. But, for the past seven years, not a single perversity mushroom had been spotted in Tortea and only Carcathian women were “lucky” enough to become possessed.

In that time, the question of which of the two strongest men – one each from the two towns – would play the Hero was also a delicate one, with Tortea being quietly frustrated that it couldn’t even nominate a candidate for the role of Sorceress.

I had the urge to say “Maybe the perversity mushrooms didn’t appear because of Cecile-san’s disciplinary guidance,” but I bit my tongue, thanking her silently for her hard work.

“The Sorceress’s moves aren’t that complicated. And you won’t be fighting any magic beasts.”

By horse, it took half a day to ride to Carcathia and back. That was too long to travel there every day for lessons, so we learned the choreography from former participants in Tortea and decided to rehearse in Carcathia a few days before the festival.

Cecile-san taught me the Sorceress’s moves and, to my surprise, Ludo-san was the one teaching Fikar how to play the Hero. A strong adventurer that stood head and shoulders above the rest of Tortea’s youth, Ludo-san was 19 years old and the Hero for the past three years. He was a flawless young man, well built and with an overall pleasant personality.

“Things would’ve been more peaceful if Ludo-san were chosen again this year…”

While Fikar was rehearsing with a handful of men pretending to be magic beasts, Ludo-san and I were taking a break together.

Hearing my mumbling, Ludo-san laughed and shook his head.

“I was going to turn down the role of Hero this year anyway.”

“How come?”

“I’m going on a trip. It’s for my 6-star promotion.”

“Eh?!”

The guild’s star-rank promotion tests required that you slowly ventured further and further northwestward, where the environment got harsher the more stars you had. Last year, when he took the 5-star exam, Ludo-san left at the end of the rainy season and although he managed to return half a month before the evening festival, it wasn’t easy. This year, he figured that he’d already played the Hero for several years in a row, so he might be better off spending the year preparing to deal with this test’s added level of difficulty. And anyway, he had Fikar to play the Hero for him.

Come to think of it, lately, I’ve seen him doing more training than guild work.

“Well, errr, then, Ludo-san, you’ll be going soon?”

“Yeah, I plan to come back in about six months.”

“Ehhhh…”

Ludo-san, a friendly and reliable adventurer and a favorite among men and women of all ages. I couldn’t imagine Tortea’s guild without him and, personally, he was a great help when I was starting at the guild and when I took my first star-rank promotion tests.

Ludo-san scratched his head and lowered his voice.

“You see, I’m an adventurer, too, and I knew it’d be frustrating to have someone like that so close by. I’m not saying I’ll become a Hero or anything, but I’ve got no time to lose.”

That’s… Ah, Fikar’s staring at me.

I hadn’t thought about it before because Ludo-san never showed it, but he used to be the strongest in his age group until Fikar showed up and easily overtook him. Any adventurer with a drop of competitive spirit would feel bitter.

“Once Fikar’s fully ready to play the Hero at the evening festival, we’ll part ways for a while.”

“We’ll miss you~”

Ludo-san, smiling as he patted me on the head, was like an older brother to me, and I honestly expressed my loneliness, at least until Fikar came to crush me.

There’ll definitely be a send-off party, so let’s prepare something to cheer him on. Something useful that he’ll be able to take with him on his grueling journey…

As I made my decision, Fikar rubbed his cheeks against me.