Eddie only belatedly realized the cheers were coming from directly in front of the inn.
He rushed to the window and pressed up against the glass.
Outside, someone was trading blows with Ketron. They were using wooden sticks, and yet the sound of their collisions echoed like something brutal and destructive.
One of them was Ketron. The other—a man Eddie had never seen before.
And yet, anyone who’d read The Hero Didn’t Even Bother Hiding His Power would recognize him instantly.
White robes that screamed “cleric,” golden blonde hair, bright green eyes, a perfectly trained physique, and a massive wooden staff as his weapon—
It was unmistakably Augustine, the holy warrior. A cleric and fighter, and one of the most distinct characters in the hero’s party.
While everyone else shouted with excitement each time the two clashed, Eddie’s eyes were locked solely on Ketron.
Something about him looked off. Unsteady. On the edge.
Without hesitation, Eddie yanked the door open and stormed outside.
“Wooooaaah!”
The crowd was roaring.
Another BANG—and then CRASH. The noise was insane. Sure, Eddie had accepted he was in a fantasy world now, but he still wasn’t used to the fact that people could make those kinds of sounds just by colliding with each other.
“Out of the way!”
Muttering curses under his breath, Eddie shoved through the crowd.
‘Eddie’ had a tall frame and a solid build. But there were so many people packed into the square that even his size wasn’t enough to make much progress.
It was like every single person in the capital had come to the central plaza just to watch this fight.
Pushing, elbowing, and wriggling his way forward, Eddie finally reached Ketron—only to find him standing there with his arms limp at his sides, completely drained of will.
His eyes brimmed with tears.
That heartbreakingly vulnerable sight sent a flash of fury straight up Eddie’s spine.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”
He shouted, charging forward and wrapping Ketron in a tight hug. It was a reflex.
The movement made Ketron’s tears finally spill over. His hands hung lifelessly at his sides, still clutching the stick so hard his knuckles had gone white, but the fight in him was gone.
“Ket.”
Eddie called his name softly. Ketron slowly lifted his head. Tears streamed from those black eyes, reminding Eddie all too clearly of the day they’d first met.
The same look he’d worn when he realized he’d been betrayed by his comrades.
Eddie wiped the sweat from his forehead and took a deep breath. First, calm him down.
“Shh, hey. It’s okay. Don’t cry. Look at me, okay?”
He pulled Ketron into a tighter embrace. The boy was too tall, and his shoulders too broad, for a proper hug—so instead, Eddie wrapped his arms around Ketron’s waist and patted his back.
The way he spoke was like someone comforting a child, but Ketron was no child—it wasn’t exactly easy to hug or soothe someone built like a tank.
Still, Eddie’s head ended up buried against Ketron’s wide, solid chest, and he kept patting his back with quiet determination.
“Why are you crying? Come on, don’t cry, okay?”
“…Eddie.”
“Yeah.”
The sound of Ketron saying his name alone seemed to take everything out of him. He sobbed silently, and Eddie gently used his sleeve to wipe away the tears. Should’ve brought a damn handkerchief.
In his concern, Eddie didn’t even notice it was the first time Ketron had ever called him by name.
That soft, youthful face—still downy with baby fuzz—he’d worked so hard to feed, to comfort, to brighten. And now it was stained with tears again, just like that day.
Eddie felt his rage bubble up again.
Who hurt my kid this time?
He's already so young and fragile—who the hell hurt him again?
Well, the culprit was obvious.
“Ket, stay right here for a sec.”
Eddie gave his shoulder one last pat, then turned toward the man staring at them in shock—Augustine.
“What exactly did you do to my kid?”
My kid.
That unhesitating claim made Augustine’s expression go from startled to completely flustered.
“I-I didn’t mean—uh, I just—”
“A grown man beating up a child! Are you serious?!”
SMACK!
Augustine’s eyes widened in shock.
It took him a moment to realize what had just happened.
He’d just received his first-ever back-of-the-head slap.
* * *
Augustine was dazed.
First, the kid had just stopped moving mid-fight and started crying. Now this silver-haired man had burst through the crowd, screaming his head off.
The guy—bright silver hair, violet eyes—was gorgeous. Even with all the beauties Augustine had met in his travels, this one stood out.
To be more specific, he was exactly Augustine’s type. Like, his ideal, dream-type.
The problem?
His dream guy was absolutely furious at him.
“You were sparring with a kid who’s injured! What the hell were you thinking?!”
“I-I didn’t know…”
“Don’t give me that!”
Injured? He hadn't noticed.
But now that he thought about it, if those tears were because of an injury, that would explain a lot.
And the way the guy held the kid—tender, emotional—it had to be either family or a very close lover.
No wonder he looked at Augustine like he was a monster.
Eddie smacked Augustine on the back a few more times for good measure.
It didn’t hurt, honestly. But it was humiliating. Mortifying, even.
Here he was, the holy warrior, the hero, savior of humanity… reduced to a scolded child by a man shorter than him.
He’d never been scolded before.
And worse—this gorgeous man, his exact type, was the one doing it.
Augustine felt unjustly accused, but couldn’t bring himself to argue.
Eventually, the angry man spun on his heel, grabbed the still-crying Ketron, and stormed back into the inn.
The crowd, seeing the fight suddenly end, buzzed with confusion and turned their attention back to Augustine. But what could he do? The match was over—and he’d just been publicly backhanded.
“…Ah, well.”
Augustine sighed, spreading his arms with a wry smile.
“Looks like that’s the end.”
He slung the wooden staff back over his shoulder and accepted that the fun was over. The crowd groaned, disappointed, but began to disperse. Spontaneous spectacles like this always lost their audience quickly once the climax passed.
Still—
Augustine found himself recalling both Ketron and the silver-haired man in his mind.
It was strange. He was sure he’d never seen either of them before.
So why did they feel familiar?
The dark-haired one with black eyes—that face was weirdly familiar, too. As was the silver-haired one. He couldn’t remember their names. He hadn’t even asked.
Where had he seen them?
He tilted his head, trying to recall, but ultimately gave up. He wasn’t the type to stress over things that didn’t have clear answers.
I’ll come back here later.
That decided, he rubbed his still-stinging back and walked away.
Despite still feeling a little dazed, his body felt lighter than it had in a long time.
Then he realized—
“Ah, my Fire Chicken Noodles…”
Caught up in the fight, he’d forgotten to order the dish he’d originally come for.
* * *
Eddie led Ketron to his room and quickly ducked into the kitchen to grab a plate before heading straight to the basement.
“Gerold! Hot towel, please!”
Eddie shouted as he passed, and Gerold nodded.
Heading into the convenience store, Eddie made a beeline for the fridge. He spotted what he needed and tore open the package, tossing it into the microwave.
Nervously pacing in front of the microwave, he waited until the familiar ding sounded, then quickly plated the food.
“Hot—ouch.”
Honestly, everything about this place was great except for the constant risk of burning his fingers.
Grumbling, Eddie hurried upstairs. Gerold handed him a steaming towel.
“Thanks,” Eddie said, juggling both plate and towel as he went up to the second floor.
“Ket, I’m coming in.”
Not even bothering to knock, Eddie opened the door and stepped inside.
Ketron was sitting on the edge of the bed. The curtains were drawn, so the room was dim despite it still being daytime.
A heavy, sunken atmosphere surrounded Ketron as he sat there.
Eddie placed the plate on the nightstand and approached with the hot towel.
He gently pressed the warm cloth to Ketron’s swollen eyelids.
“Ket, you okay?”
“…”
“Hungry?”
No response.
Even as Eddie gently pressed the towel to his whole face, Ketron said nothing. He didn’t even flinch. The tears had stopped, but his mood was clearly at rock bottom.
Eddie bit his lip, wondering what to do.
Then suddenly, Ketron reached out and pulled him into a hug.
Wait—what?
Caught off guard, Eddie found himself enveloped in Ketron’s solid chest. After a second of hesitation, he let himself relax.
Fine. This kind of moment probably did call for human warmth.
The problem was that Ketron had been sitting on the bed, so Eddie, dragged into his arms, now ended up basically perched on his lap.
And Eddie was tall, too—maybe not Ketron tall, but still. With nowhere to put his legs, he shifted awkwardly, trying to find a stable position.
“Ket, hey—hold on a second…”
Eddie fidgeted, but Ketron only held on tighter. He clearly had no intention of letting go. Eddie sighed and gave up, letting his body go slack. There was no question—Ketron was not in a normal state.
Fine. Just treat me like a comfort plushie…
Still… this position is kinda…
It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but Eddie couldn’t bring himself to push Ketron away, not when the kid had his head buried in his shoulder like that.
Even if it was just for now, he could serve as a temporary human-sized stuffed animal.
Waiting for Ketron to settle down, Eddie adjusted slightly to find a better sitting position. The kid’s chest was broad enough to hold him without issue.
That’s when Eddie realized something he hadn’t needed—or wanted—to know.
So… our Ket’s, uh… left-side heavy.
Feeling the pressure under his butt and realizing which way Ketron leaned left Eddie briefly flustered.
Still, he didn’t pull away.
Instead, he kept gently patting Ketron’s broad back.
If it offered even the tiniest bit of comfort, that was more than enough.