"Bounty hunter?"
Gawain blinked in surprise. That was a new and straightforward profession.
Britain had knights, hunters, wandering warriors—but no one called themselves bounty hunters. It sounded like a job done solely for money, and no one looked down on it less.
Though knights inevitably pursued wealth too, it was usually in a more dignified way. This was much more blunt.
Besides, bounty hunting was done quite tactfully in this land—knights had to save face. Sometimes people got things for free without paying, and the knights had to accept it with a bitter smile.
"Yes, she said she was a bounty hunter. Since she didn't seem like a bad person, neither we nor the lord reported her to the authorities."
"If that's the case, why are you still trying to chase her away?" Gawain asked, puzzled.
It would be understandable if they just ignored it, but after hearing this, everyone seemed nearly in tears.
Why?
Because they were poor.
Poverty limits people's tolerance for others.
Imagine—every time she came, the town suffered damage from all kinds of accidents. If it happened once or twice, maybe it would be fine. But if it happened repeatedly, even King Arthur himself might not bear the economic losses.
You see, poverty was common in Camelot, especially in their town. People were so poor they would tear a single piece of clothing in two just to cover the essentials.
In the past two years, everyone had become experts at building houses—their skills were advanced.
What? Building houses in other lands makes money?
Don't be ridiculous. The houses she destroyed weren't worth as much as the ones she demolished. If the "bounty hunter" hadn't been careful and visited less often this year, several of them would have frozen to death last winter.
As for the mountain of monster corpses she left behind, maybe it was her way of apologizing and making amends?
Only a fool would think so.
You know, "monster" is a general term for powerful creatures. Most of the time, the bigger the monster, the harder to deal with. Their skin was as hard as steel, and only a strong knight's sword could cut it.
So what use was a pile of monster corpses that couldn't be eaten, sold, or moved?
They were buried in a pit outside the town. Anyone could take them, but the town was unlucky enough not to benefit.
"So basically, she's someone who's bad at communicating and behaves strangely—not a villain, won't hurt you, but protects you while causing trouble."
"Yes, exactly!"
"Then why not just tell her the truth and ask her to leave? She's a good person and won't do anything bad, right?" Gawain was baffled.
Even a simpleton like him couldn't understand their thinking.
From the description, this bounty hunter really hadn't done anything wrong. Leaving monster corpses behind was probably her way of apologizing.
Hmm? How does Gawain know this?
Don't ask—the answer is: I'm experienced.
She was just a bit aloof. On the other hand, Gawain was easygoing and even liked the people in town.
At least, he didn't think she hated the town or wanted to stay forever.
Yet now, the townsfolk wanted Gawain to drive her away. Wasn't that cruel?
Hey, why does Gawain understand her feelings?
Don't ask—the answer is still: I'm experienced.
And if she knew she was despised by the people she loved, how sad would that be?
Hey, why can Gawain empathize with others?
Don't ask! The real question is—are you really trying to uncover all of Gawain's dark secrets?
Am I, the Sun Knight Gawain, still human?!
"It's not that we don't want to, but—but—" The middle-aged man blushed, then finally admitted in a voice barely audible: "We're afraid."
"What?"
"…We're afraid."
"I didn't hear you, please say it louder."
"I'm scared!" the man cried.
He was forced to admit, as a middle-aged man who fought alongside King Arthur against ten thousand Saxons, that he was afraid of a little girl and had to humiliate himself.
That's it? The man who followed King Arthur to battle is a coward?
Damn it, if I could beat you, I'd definitely—
Forget it, I can't beat you.
"Okay," Gawain said, speechless. "Don't worry, leave it to me. I'll take her out of town. By the way, does she have any distinctive traits? I guess no one dares identify her."
At this, the tavern erupted in excitement.
People scrambled to describe her.
In the end, the middle-aged man who spoke earlier took charge and rattled off the bounty hunter's appearance at lightning speed.
"She's very beautiful. Though she looks cold, she's definitely a beauty. I'm sure the knight will recognize her immediately. Also, she has long silver-gray hair—very long. She usually wears all black and a big black hat. Most strikingly, her clothes… well, the style and appearance are simply amazing—"
At this, the man's face naturally glowed with longing, a look all hopeless romantics understand.
The other men blushed and looked away shyly.
"In short, Master Knight will recognize her at once." He cleared his throat, reluctant to admit it was because she was so tempting they had endured her presence for two whole years.
"Huh? Are you talking about her?" Gawain raised a hand and pointed blankly toward a corner of the tavern.
Everyone froze and stared, wide-eyed.
There, in a corner, a woman sat huddled on the ground, her hat pulled low over her face.
Her long silver-gray hair spilled over the floor, making her features unmistakable.
"Reward… reward… Miss Bounty Hunter?"
People rushed out of the tavern in a panic, while those who stayed shrank away, unwilling to meet each other's eyes. Whether out of shame or fear, no one could say.
At last, Gawain understood the situation a bit better.
"Well, you've heard it too—from the beginning." Gawain approached, speaking kindly, "Can you come with me out of town? I'm sure you can feel it's not that everyone hates you, but that they're limited in what they can accept."
"Don't bother… with me."
The woman coldly slapped away Gawain's hand and buried her head in her knees.
Her stuttering wasn't emotional—it was simply unfamiliarity with conversation. It matched the middle-aged man's description perfectly.
Gawain felt awkward, unsure how to get her to leave.
Well, then, let's fight.
Gawain resolved: "Let's have a passionate duel first."
"······"
The bounty hunter lady remained silent, drowning in sorrow, trapped by her own feelings.
Since arriving in town two years ago with no memories, she'd thought everyone was kind to her. Somehow, she always felt an urge to hug these cute two-legged animals. In short, she found them adorable and wanted to squeeze them.
She'd believed she was loved just as much.
But now—all of that was shattered.
Like this, like this—
Wasn't she just a fool to always feel good, indulging in her own woven dreams?
The bounty hunter was so ashamed she wanted to crawl into a crack and disappear.
Woohoo, I'm too embarrassed to see anyone!!!
So, on this day, the small town witnessed a fierce battle.
And Gawain had a lovely companion on his journey.
Yes, very cute.
You said so—the defeated killer whale sister-Skadi!