Never Meet Your Heroes (1)

My heart skipped a beat. Fallen heroine? Mourning? I had no idea who this woman was talking about, but something told me I should play along if I wanted to avoid awkward questions about why I was wandering around alone.

"Yes, of course," I said, trying to sound appropriately somber. "It's... It's a terrible loss."

The woman's expression grew even more sympathetic. "I can see you're struggling with the news. Laura was beloved by so many—not just in Belldune, but across all the neighboring regions. When word spread that Belldune was holding a public mourning for her, people started traveling from everywhere to pay their respects."

Laura? Ok, I should get some intel about the heroine so I wouldn’t feel out of place.

"Are you traveling to Belldune for the ceremony as well?" I asked, hoping she'd offer what I was really after.

"Indeed, we are. Would you like to ride with us? It seems wrong for someone mourning Laura to make the journey on foot." She gestured toward her caravan with genuine kindness.

Perfect. "That would be incredibly generous of you. I've been walking since dawn."

The woman helped me climb onto the back of her wagon. As we rolled down the dirt road, she and the other travelers shared stories about this Laura person. Apparently, she was some kind of scholar and mage who had been part of a famous adventuring party.

The journey to Belldune took most of the afternoon. As we crested a hill, I got my first look at the city, and it was nothing like the rustic cabin I'd stayed in with John. Belldune sprawled across a valley beside a wide river, with stone buildings rising several stories high and what looked like actual paved roads. Tall walls surrounded the city, and I could see guard towers at regular intervals.

This is actually a real city, I thought, feeling both excited and intimidated. Not just some medieval village.

As our caravan approached the gates, I could see the crowds that the woman, whom I found out was called Marta, had mentioned. People were streaming in from all directions, with mostly black or darkened clothes.

Good thing so far that no one is mentioning my tracksuit. Even more lucky, it’s dark enough to pass for a mourning outfit, it seems. But, if opportunity presents itself, I should try to find clothes that will make me blend a little more with the crowds.

Black banners hung from the city walls, and I could hear the distant sound of bells tolling.

"Thank you so much for the ride," I told Marta as we entered the city proper. "I don't know how I can repay your kindness."

"Just honor Laura's memory," she replied with a sad smile. "That's payment enough."

I bid farewell to the caravan and found myself alone in the crowded streets of Belldune. The city was unlike anything I'd ever experienced—a mix of impressive architecture and medieval technology that felt both foreign and strangely familiar.

Alright, first things first—I need to figure out how to survive here. I had no money, no place to stay, and no job skills that would translate to a fantasy world. My plan was simple: find work, earn enough to get by, and then figure out my next move.

I spent the next few hours wandering the streets, looking for anyone who might be hiring. But it quickly became apparent that I'd chosen the worst possible time to job hunt. Nearly every shop I approached had a sign posted saying they were closed for the mourning period. The blacksmith's forge was cold, the general stores were shuttered, and even the market stalls were covered with black cloth.

"Excuse me," I asked a passing merchant, "how long will the mourning period last?"

"Three days," he replied. "It's traditional when a hero falls. Only essential services remain open—taverns for the travelers, inns for lodging, and restaurants to feed the crowds. Everything else stops."

Great. So I can't even look for work until this is over. I wandered into what seemed to be the main square, where preparations for tomorrow's funeral were already underway. Workers were constructing a massive platform, and I could see priests arranging flowers and ceremonial items.

The crowds were impressive. Everyone seemed to know exactly who Laura was and why her death mattered. Meanwhile, I was just some lost kid from another world who'd lied about knowing the deceased just to get a free ride into the city.

As evening approached, I realized I had a more immediate problem than unemployment: I had nowhere to sleep and no money for an inn.

Maybe I can find stables or an abandoned house where I could spend the night. The crowds of mourners had filled up most of the available lodging, and from what I could overhear, the prices were astronomical.

John has given me a small backpack with supplies, and among water and some food, there was a blanket. If I were to find some hay, I could improvise and sleep there. Though I have no idea what kind of farm life I should expect. So far, it was generic as it gets. A horse was pulling the caravan, and the whole city, while impressive to see from someone who hasn’t been to modern Europe, let alone one from before the age of industrialization, it didn’t stand out in a sense that this would feel different from Earth. It’s more like I just travelled back in time.

Still, knowledge of these times in my world doesn’t give me any advantage in getting lodging. C’mon, Kazuki, think. Assume people are as generous as in other isekai. And the idea struck.

Wait, maybe I can use this Laura situation to my advantage. Everyone here seemed genuinely moved by the funeral preparations. I'd already successfully convinced Marta that I was here to mourn, so maybe I could find someone sympathetic enough to offer me shelter.

It didn’t sit right with me to do this, but I was out of options. I had no idea what the laws were if people were sleeping in the streets like they were homeless, and I had no intention to find out. In our nature, survival is set in our genes, and so this is what I must do to survive.

I spotted a middle-aged man arranging flowers outside what looked like a small general store. He wore simple black clothes and was watering the flowers when I approached him.

"Excuse me, sir," I said, approaching, trying to act out feelings of respect and desperation. Ok, I was going into the begging mode. "I've traveled a very long way to pay my respects to Laura, but I'm afraid all the inns are full." I let my voice carry genuine worry—which wasn't hard as I was desperate, just not for the reasons he thinks. "I spent all the money I had just getting here for the ceremony, and now I don't know where I'll sleep tonight. I don't want to dishonor her memory by sleeping on the streets during the mourning period."

The man looked up, his tired eyes immediately softening with sympathy. "You came all this way just to honor our Laura? That girl... she touched more lives than she ever knew."

"She did," I agreed, feeling a stab of guilt about the deception. Still, I’ve reached to point of no return. "I couldn't bear the thought of not being here for her final farewell. But I'm afraid I didn't plan well for the crowds."

"Aye, people have been streaming in from everywhere since yesterday. Some traveled from places I've never even heard of." But his face smirked a bit. “Though some came here to cheer on the rest of her party. They are all arriving for the burial.”

“No, that is terrible. I know they have done a lot for us, but still, there will be days for cheering; first, we must mourn.”

“Yes, yes. Exactly! Though, sorry to say, I have no spare rooms to offer.”

“I’ll take anything, a closet, a stable. I brought with me a blanket to sleep with, just don’t want to be on the street.”

The man was scratching his head, thinking. “Well, there is a storage area behind the house, you can take out some stuff, and make a place for yourself there. Just don’t try stealing anything, or else you won’t make it far. I have good relations with the guards.”

“No, no. I wouldn’t try anything like that. Especially during these hard times. That would be a disrespect to our fallen heroine.”

“I knew you seemed like a good lad. Then follow me and let’s set you up then.”