A Father's Worries and an Unrequited Appreciation

Re:Beginning: A Job-Filled Reincarnation

Crimster

Chapter 9: Re:Beginning: A Job-Filled Reincarnation | Chapter Nine: A Father's Worries and an Unrequited Appreciation

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Re:Beginning: A Job-Filled Reincarnation | Chapter Nine: A Father's Worries and an Unrequited Appreciation

Paul's never been that good of a person. You could call Paul Greyrat a piece of trash, and he'd just brush it off—hell, he'd probably readily agree with you. He's always been like that. Some may say that he's a man of desire. He had talent in the sword but squandered it by slacking off when he was younger. He ran away from the training hall and used Lilia to get back at the dojo. He still felt terrible for that, but at least he told the woman that he had wronged. "Sorry." He thought he could be someone better when he married Zenith. He thought he could get better when he found out she was pregnant with his child. He thought he could be a good person for once. He thought he had the chance to right the wrongs his father did when he was younger.

That's what he thought.

Paul doesn't think of himself as a father, however… On the contrary, his son teaches him more than he teaches. Rudeus wasn't naive like you'd expect any toddler to be. He wasn't up to any pranks whenever their eyes left him. He wasn't an idiot of a kid like his father had been. Instead, he looked like he had it all figured out. It seemed like he had a purpose.

Paul thought he'd found a son he could confide in when Rudeus watched his training with a familiar intensity in his eyes. From that moment on, Rudeus seemed to like the sword and everything that came with it. Paul thought it was his chance to impart some knowledge to his boy… To do something for him as any father would.

Paul was wrong about that as well. Much to his chagrin, Rudeus learned magic from a tutor Zenith forced him to hire. Rudeus was so skilled that it'd be an understatement to say he was anything but a genius. He was good at math; if Paul let him or wanted him for that fact, he could do the house's finances. Rudeus was also already very literate for his age, and the icing on top of it all was that he was such a natural in the arcane arts to a fault that he became a saint-tier water mage only two months ago, a little over a year since he started being tutored by the Migurdian Roxy Migurdia.

Paul had to let that fact sink in. Rudeus already surpassed his father by the time he was four.

He tried not to let it get to him and started training his son fervently. The boy never complained, nor did Paul for that matter, but Paul was never that good of a teacher, so Rudeus seemed a little confused whenever he showed him a Sword God technique. That was fine by Paul, though. Everyone had to start somewhere, and his son was only four. If anything, Paul didn't plan on teaching Rudeus sword techniques until he turned five, but he figured it would be okay with his progress.

Paul wasn't ready for what he saw in his son. Because whenever he showed him a Water God technique—it almost looked like he knew… When it came to Water God, it never looked like Rudeus was learning from Paul, and it never felt like he was teaching his son. Instead of watching his father and trying to replicate what he did, it felt like Rudeus was trying to get his body in order. To Paul, it looked like he was simply inconvenienced by his body.

By that time, Paul wholly realized that Rudeus was a natural, or at least extraordinarily naturally gifted—specifically in that style. He pretty much sucked at the other two.

His son was more intelligent than he was. He could do math better than he could. His magic skill was bar none, and he was learning whatever sword techniques Paul was teaching him at a rate that could be considered irregular.

Paul was floored…

His son was Rudeus Greyrat, a prodigy you'd only see once in a lifetime. He was the son of Paul Greyrat, a man with little to no outstanding qualities besides having a talent for swinging a sword around and being a notable philanderer, and Paul didn't feel like Rudeus's father, not one bit.

However, he couldn't hate his son for being so gifted. When Rudeus was young, he'd cling to Paul like he would go off and die in some war. Whenever he did something right, and Paul would praise him, Rudeus would give him that same goofy smile. Rudy was Paul's son and a good kid, a smart one, for sure—a certified genius, actually, but he was Paul's, and he wouldn't trade him for anyone else.

Paul thought everything was going well—and it was for a time. That was until the nightmares started. He remembers it all happening in a haze. There was screaming in the middle of the night— anguished screaming. You'd only hear that from someone losing their loved one or a dear friend, but Paul heard it from his four-year-old son down the hall. He remembers rushing out of his bedroom with Zenith close behind. Paul—a man who notoriously slept with his sword—couldn't even grab it with how fast he jumped out of bed.

When they ran through the already-opened door, all Zenith and Paul could see was Roxy holding onto Rudeus's hand. Rudeus woke up a second later as Lilia peeked into the room behind the couple.

Paul couldn't see him too clearly from where he stood, but he could tell his son's expression was grim. Rudeus spoke to his teacher in a hushed voice and, after pulling away his hand from Roxy's, laid down to face away from his parents.

"Can you please stay with him tonight?" Zenith told the girl infront of them in a hushed whisper. One thing they all could agree with was that Rudeus liked Roxy especially. Paul even caught the kid perving on her a couple of times. That was when Paul wholeheartedly knew he was his kid.

It was an honest no-brainer to not leave the kid alone for the night, so having the girl stay with him seemed the best course of action. "I'll do my best," Roxy responded with her usual sleepy-eyed expression.

Paul thought that was the end of it. He presumed they wouldn't have to worry about those nightmares after that night. He hoped his son, who seemed to have such a promising future, wouldn't be plagued with such thoughts.

They were not lucky, and his son wasn't spared.

The next time it happened was when he graduated from Roxy's teachings. It had to be something dreadful. His crying and screaming were terrible to listen to as a parent. Zenith and Paul figured he'd make it big as a mage. He also had a talent for the sword, but he couldn't capitalize on it yet because he was only so old. His father even entertained the idea of Rudeus becoming one of the Seven Great Powers, but when they saw him screaming and sobbing while being nestled into Roxy's chest that night. Calling out a name they had never heard before. They—he realized Rudeus was still a child, one that was going through things Paul couldn't understand. A child that, even though he was his father—Paul couldn't help.

Zenith found herself crying against her husband. Even Lilia, who Paul thought was keeping her distance from Rudeus, was brought to tears. However, the man managed to hold his back. He watched his son's face shift. He was unmoving in his tutor's dainty arms. His eyes were glazed over, but Paul could see something in them. He was gritting his teeth, and the emotion reflected in his eyes was deep regret and seeming hatred for something.

If Paul was forced to guess what he was angry at. It would have to be himself.

What Rudeus displayed was something no kid should know, even if Paul was the child's father in infront of him. He was struck with the realization that he could do nothing for him.

He failed as his father at the earliest point in his life, and no matter what, Paul would never forgive himself.

It was a morning like any other in Buena. Something about a good night's rest and some sex always makes you feel refreshed the next day. Zenith was still fast asleep by the time Paul left their room. Frankly, as much as he would've liked to stay in bed with his lovely wife, he preferred riding Caravaggio around the village to get his daily patrol out of the way. Paul always wanted to appreciate the scenery, especially now since it was lush white. It was nothing special, but compared to the capital, he found this much more appealing. It's why they decided to move out here after all.

When Paul went out, the village was still quiet as usual. The only person he met along the way was Mister Smith; he always liked to make his own rounds. He was a good man. Paul knew from Laws that he was basically the village's protector before he was. Of course, the older man was past his prime by now, but he was still trustworthy and reliable.

"Another early morning, Mister Smith?" Paul trotted alongside the man and got off his horse when he stopped beside him. The only thing around them was the snow-covered path they were walking on. A few houses speckled the land, but no one else was in sight.

"Great to see ya this morning, Lord Paul, and stop with the Mister." He put his hand out for a handshake, and Paul grabbed it. Smith's hands were rough, and his fingers were thick from farm work. He had the hands of a worker, alright. "Smith is plenty fine." The man scratched his stubble with his free hand. He carried a broadsword on his hip. It was of decent make from what Paul could see.

"Nonsense, Mister Smith, I'll always appreciate the help." From the extent Paul knew of the man, he was humble. Even after Paul arrived in Buena, Smith offered to fill his spot for a few days when Zenith gave birth to Rudeus.

"Whatever you say, Lord Paul." He swiped his hand in the air. "How's Lady Zenith doing nowadays? She's not overexerting herself taking care of the house and that boy, is she? I'm sure having a saint-tier water mage is a lot to handle at his age."

"Haha, Zenith is healthier than ever. We're actually trying for another one." The two laughed together at Paul's remark. If Paul remembers correctly, Smith has a kid older than Rudeus. He couldn't bring himself to remember his name, though.

"What about your boy? He's been doing fine, I presume? I've seen him running around with Laws' kid recently—" Paul didn't think much of Smith's interactions. He knew he was a quizzical man from the moment he met him. "Shame that girl was born with green hair. Regrettably, I'm sure my boy even picked on her." He gave Paul an ashamed look. It was a shame the girl had the hair color she did. Paul was just glad his boy didn't discriminate. Though one look at the girl, and even Paul could tell she'd be a looker when she was older, maybe his boy was just trying to get a headstart.

"He's been holding. Kids their age tend to go off somewhere and find trouble wherever they can." Paul shrugged. After his son's nightmares over the past year, he tried his best to offer support. He'd already resigned himself to being a failure of a father at this point.

"Well, I better go before the wife misses me too much." Smith gave a wave, and Paul remounted Caravaggio. They gave each other goodbyes and left their eyeshot without any issue.

It's about time to start training, isn't it?

As dull as they usually were, Paul's rounds had a few interactions here and there. He had a few conversations occasionally—mainly with Smith, but they weren't the favorite part of Paul's mornings. That would be when he got back home to train his son.

After Rudeus graduated from Roxy's teachings, he'd always take the time to study Paul. Seeing how well he seemed to rebound scared his father more than a little, but he let him do as he saw fit. The worst thing Paul could do was mess with his seemingly composed nature.

Don't rock the boat, yeah?

Rudeus had always been and is still a weird kid. He knew things he shouldn't and could always weasel his way out of an argument. If Paul didn't know any better, he would've assumed he was an old man possessing a child's body, but that would be ridiculous. He'd more readily accept he was a Miko or something like that. Which, from Paul's perspective, could very well be the truth. Which only meant keeping everything Rudy was capable of a secret. Just to be on the safe side.

Nonetheless, Paul would teach him if Rudeus wanted to learn swordsmanship from his father. He just wanted to help. He still wanted to do something—anything for his son. Rudeus's sudden shift in demeanor after that night didn't help ease the worry that Zenith or Paul had after he had that nightmare.

The boy became cold—distant, not with how he acted toward people. However, Paul had heard from Laws that Rudeus was drawing himself farther away from Sylphiette as of late, much to the young girl's annoyance. I can tell from a mile away that little Sylphiette has feelings for my boy. Young love at its finest. Paul sighed openly.

Once he came into eyeshot of his house, he saw him in the front yard. Doing push-ups as usual. Paul could immediately tell Rudeus was being harsher with himself the day after the nightmare. Rudeus would readily run himself haggard whenever they trained and only met his father with annoyance whenever he tried to stop him. Paul let him be because of it. He was a genius, after all. He seemed like he could handle it.

Even now, he was pushing himself. Paul dismounted Caravaggio and put him in the small stable they had in their front yard. "You already do your morning run?" It was a redundant question that he already knew the answer to. Paul was strict with his son's daily routine. He thought he'd have to ease up on him a little, but Rudeus was the one who insisted on it at the end.

"Of course. Anything unusual today?" He stood back up after he finished his set. He was still a boy no taller than Paul's crotch, but Rudeus was working harder than most of the nobles in the country—and at least a quarter of the promising swordsman of his era. Paul would say he'd be proud of him if he didn't know the reason behind Rudeus's actions.

"Nope, same old, same old. Just chatted with Mister Smith on the way back, is all." When Paul looked back at him after tying Caravaggio to his post, Rudeus was already doing his stretches.

He's awfully thorough with everything he does, isn't he? Paul chuckled. The almost forgotten wooden sword in the snow beside Rudeus reminded Paul of when his son asked for it. His original plan was to start when Rudeus turned five like he said, but he wouldn't blow off his evidently troubled son and deny his request. "You already ready?" What's with him asking so many stupid questions today?

"Always." That was such a cheeky answer. Paul would've probably hit him for the arrogant tone if he wasn't an intermediate-ranked swordsman at his age. Did he mention that? Rudeus couldn't hit you hard enough worth for shit, but he was skilled.

Saying he was just good made Paul feel like he was underplaying his son just a little bit. The man was pretty sure there was nothing Rudeus couldn't do. He knows it sounds like he's just a doting parent or something, but Paul had never seen something Rudeus struggle with. That's probably why he had such high hopes for him when he was younger. But now the man knew what he had to deal with in that head of his. So, Paul tried to keep his shallow thinking out of the way as much as possible.

With that, they started their exercises. It was nothing too draining. Paul didn't want his son calling it quits before they even got to the real stuff, but the boy spoke up within an hour.

"Dad, can you show me that technique again?" Rudeus was a couple of paces away from Paul as he looked up at his father, wooden sword in hand. He still had that relatively large bracelet he had found all that while ago on his wrist. All Paul knew was that he had found it. He didn't care about the details; it was just some nice-looking bracelet Rudeus had stumbled upon. If some stupid noble was dumb enough to lose it in the first place, then Paul considered it Rudy's property as much as theirs. No one even seemed to mention it nowadays. It simply became part of his attire.

Rudeus's best style was Water God, so Paul kept that in their drills. Not that Paul didn't teach him Sword God or anything like that; covering all your weak points was essential. He'd probably teach him North God at some point, but not for a while. Call him an ignorant fool, but the man never liked that style, and it never really got him out of any meaningful confrontations in his past. "It's more like a Fwoo ! I think you're doing more of a Schlang !" Paul dragged his sword infront of himself as he parried an invisible sword, letting the unseen blade's edge drag along his, and as he pivoted his sword sharply downwards, the opponent's blade followed. With a swift motion, Paul riposted, striking downwards on the head of the nonexistent opponent.

Rudeus had struggled with the technique 'Flow' for quite some time. You could say he struggled, but it was more of his body's fault for being unable to do it. Paul could tell his son could. It was just that his body wasn't listening to what he was saying. "You get me?" The man saw his son's expressionless face when he looked down. He was never as good of a teacher with this sort of stuff. It was more of a feeling to him at the end of the day.

There was a reason Ghislaine was a Sword King, and Paul was just stuck with advanced in all three styles.

"Got it." Rudeus looked at the wooden sword in his hand, a look of determination in his eyes as he nodded. He knew what he needed to do; it was just getting his body acclimated to moving in a certain way. Yet another of his son's qualities was his understanding of his father. Father like son, as they say. "Do it." Rudeus spared his father a glance as he set his sword in a Water God stance. His body was prepared for any blow to come his way. This was Paul's cue to act.

Paul slashed his sword toward him—not in any meaningful way. It was just an act to be able to properly perform the technique. Rudeus preferred to do it this way, and Paul wasn't the kind of guy to turn down a request from his son. He braced his legs—good. Rudeus watched the edge of Paul's sword and his wrist—good. His blade met Paul's and parried—then, he stumbled after he did so from the movement… Not so good.

"Gaah—why can't I get it?" The angry sigh told Paul all he needed to know. He could understand why he was so angry. From his observations, he should be fine. Everything about Rudeus's technique was pretty much as good as you can get. His stance was good; he moved correctly and controlled each movement. He just couldn't bring his body to do it.

"Let's take a five-minute break, Rudy." Rudeus shot him a pout, or at least what Paul construed as a pout. "It's essential to give your body its appropriate time to recuperate. You're still young, so you shouldn't beat yourself over a simple mistake." Paul gave him the best smile he could muster and sat on the snow. Rudeus followed suit, even though reluctantly. They were dressed for the weather, so sitting outside would be fine.

"So Rudy—" He looked over to his father. "How have you been doing recently?" The question must've caught him out of the blue because he stumbled backward when he went to sit down.

"Where's this coming from, Dad?" He straightened himself. He seemed annoyed at the prospect of Paul asking him a question like the one he did.

"I don't know—is it a crime that I want to talk to my son?" Be that as it may, Rudeus didn't look satisfied with his father's explanation. "You know why, Rudy. " The look Rudeus gave his father wasn't easily explainable.

"Then you just want to talk? About what, exactly?" His voice seemed accusatory for some reason. It wasn't like Paul would send him off somewhere for being a bother or anything like that. He hadn't deserved treatment like that.

"I don't know about anything, really. How about those little statues you make or how things are going between you and Sylphiette?" Paul hadn't tried to pry myself into his son's life. When he had that nightmare, he tried even harder not to , but maybe that was the opposite of what he should be doing.

There was only one way to figure it out, and that was by talking. Strange that Paul Greyrat was resorting to talking and not beating the shit out of someone with a sword, right?

"Nothing is going on between me and Sylphiette. I'm only four! I don't know what you think I do with my free time, but it isn't how you spend yours, Father." Ouch! That stung a lot more than he cared to admit.

Paul scooted over and flung his arm around the boy's shoulder. "Oh, come on~! I know how she looks at you; she's got it down for ya!" When did he start talking to his son like this?

Rudeus didn't respond as he looked the other way. "Ah—How are your magic studies going? I'm sure you're making breakthroughs. Considering how smart you are and all—"

Rudeus brushed his father's arm off of him. "I'd like to get back to training, Father—" Paul could tell he wasn't mad. He was just a little annoyed at his actions. That's understandable, really. It seemed his boy didn't like to talk about his love life out in the open—or much of anything nowadays. "I just want to get stronger—I just… need to be stronger," Rudeus whispered as he looked down at the wooden sword he was wielding.

His son needed to get stronger? He was already a water saint-tier magician by the age of four. Isn't trying to get stronger than that—unnecessary—maybe even selfish? "I think you're plenty strong, Rudy." Paul's words didn't reach his son's ears as he continued to look down at his hand gripping his sword.

What did he see in those nightmares?

Paul pushed off his legs and stood up. "Okay, then, I guess I'll be your dance partner. How about we get started with some—"

Paul could hear it clearly when he spoke.

He could hear it even from where he stood. Running. It wasn't deliberate running like someone was training, but as if they were panicking. They were running right towards them. In a moment, Paul could see him. Blond hair, young-looking face, and long ears; it was Laws. Why did he look scared? "Paul!" He yelled at the knight as he ran closer to the father and son. The yell garnered Rudeus's attention as well. He looked up from his sword. Rudeus seemed to garner a look of concern on Laws' face and started to show a look of confusion on his own. Paul could understand that—after all, when the parent of the girl who has the hots for you comes rushing at you looking this terrified, it'd cause a little bit of confusion.

Paul jogged to the gate so he could meet the elf halfway somewhat. Whatever it was, it had to be important if Laws was running hard enough to be out of breath, but even then, Paul wasn't too worried about whatever had Laws this worried. He was somewhat of a scaredy cat when it came to a lot of things. "What's the matter, Laws? Did a magic beast get an entire flock or something?" It had happened before. It was right before one of our monthly excursions when a magic beast—specifically a Terminate Boar had made its way into the village. Luckily, no one got hurt—besides the beast, that is.

"Th-there was a…" He breathed deeply, falling to his knees as he clutched his chest. He had been running fast, and the Greyrat home wasn't close to his. "There's been a murder!" He yelled in a moment.

White flashed before Paul's eyes. A—murder…? In Buena? Rudeus's face shifted into a worried expression at the declaration. If Laws was the one to give them the news, that couldn't mean that—it couldn't, could it? "Who, Laws?" Paul quickly changed from carefree to serious as he grabbed the man's shoulders and shook him slightly. He had to take a forceful approach. Laws wasn't taking the situation well, so Paul needed him to speak. He couldn't do anything if he didn't tell him what was happening. "It wasn't Sylphiette, was it?! Isn't she out for a lesson with Roxy right now?!" Paul needed info right now, and the only man that could tell him was the slumped-over form infront of him.

"No!" He staggered up slightly and looked Paul in the eyes. There was some fear but also a hint of relief. He seemed to tremble at the thought of what the knight had said. "It wasn't—God, i-if it was her—I-I wouldn't know what to do." Paul patted him on his shoulder. He seemed to compose himself slightly from knowing his daughter was fine in this situation. "No, it was Mister Smith on the other side of the village—it wasn't a magic beast, no signs of a mauling… No, this was definitely a sword." His breathing slowly grew from erratic to slightly more composed as he continued to speak.

Mister Smith? I talked to him this morning… Gods—this happened between now and then, but I didn't see anything on my way back… Damn it! Paul punched his leg for his own stupidity. He wasn't careful enough; he obviously didn't look hard enough, but he was just doing his rounds.

We live in Buena—and nothing happens in Buena.

But Laws was serious. Paul could see it in his eyes. He wasn't a man who was lying or overreacting. "Let's go then—show me where he is." This wouldn't be the first time Paul would see a body. Nor would it be the first time he'd kill a man once he found the bastard who did this. Laws staggered up after Paul. "You can ride Caravaggio. I'll go there on foot and be right behind you." Laws gave a nod and went to untie the horse.

When Paul looked at Rudy, he was still standing in the same spot, seemingly rooted there. Just staring at the two of them as they readied to leave. "You just stay here, Rudy." The boy didn't react. He seemed to be thinking about something in his head. "Just keep practicing; I'll bring little Sylphie over later so you can play with her. For now, stay safe, and if anything happens—guard your mother." He slowly nodded. Paul saw his grip tighten around the handle of his wooden sword.

It wasn't long after that when Laws mounted Caravaggio as he darted out of the yard, and Paul gave chase. His legs could keep up with a horse for a short distance, and they were only heading into Buena. So this much would be nothing for the retired adventurer.

With that, Paul left his son in the yard. Rudeus was still looking distantly into the snow-covered fields as his father went to deal with whatever had happened in the village. A thoughtful look spread across his face as he muttered something under his breath, but Paul couldn't hear it. He was too far away, and this wasn't the time to worry about that.

Thick, sharp icicles pierced through the snow and climbed toward the sky, but it abruptly stopped before the structure could grow any farther. The mana flow was cut off from it—preventing it from continuing its expanse. Brandishing a wand, Sylphiette stood there, amazed at what she had just made. "Impressive as usual, Sylphie." The girl looked over to her teacher and smiled. She was easy to please but diligent in learning. She was a perfect student if Roxy had anything to say about it. Nothing like Rudeus, however, that was for sure, but no kid or man was like Rudeus at the end of the day.

"I still have a long way to go if I want to be as strong as Rudy one day!" Roxy grinned at her assertion. She's been chasing after the boy ever since the day of his graduation. She's only been getting better, so her teacher didn't mind the goal she set for herself. Still, Roxy doubted the girl knew what she meant when she said that.

I'd consider her a prodigy in her own right, but I think I need to reevaluate that word since I've met Rudeus. I guess they're just prodigies in their own ways. Even Rudeus can't use incantation-less healing magic.

"You've gotten plenty stronger yourself lately—" Roxy leaned over to the wide-eyed girl and touched her shoulder. "You should be confident in the abilities you've worked hard to achieve." Roxy could tell she wasn't the type to get carried away or grow arrogant with what she could do, but it never hurts to gently reaffirm her progress. So far, Sylphie has been blindly chasing after a boy Roxy knew she had little hope of reaching, but the demon woman promised her that she'd help, and she wasn't one to go back on her word.

"I still have a long way to go, though." Sylphie didn't seem upset; she didn't even pout. Instead, she held her head high as she melted the spell she had previously made. She wasn't lying when she said she'd spend as long as it took to be able to stand next to the boy, apparently. Roxy could admire that dedication. It made her job easier—as her teacher, her duty was to support her studies and ambitions.

But still… Trying to catch up to Rudeus only seems to get further every day—he never stops improving, does he? After her declaration, Sylphie started training with a serious mindset. From Roxy's perspective, she could do little but be impressed by the little girl's determination. During the last two months, where Roxy has been exclusively tutoring Sylphie, the girl has been putting all of the advice both of her teachers have given her into practice. Now, she could cast all intermediate spells with little difficulty—even fire magic. Roxy even had Sylphie cast an advanced-tier wind spell the other day. That didn't necessarily make her any closer to Rudeus regarding strength, but her progress was prominent and steady. It didn't help Roxy at all that Rudeus would have the nerve to correct her whenever he would come around during her lessons. If he were older, I wouldn't mind giving him what for! However, it was a shame to say that Roxy would unfortunately learn something new whenever Rudeus did come around. The fact that he knew so much vexed the Migurd girl.

Rudeus had a way of talking that just made you understand him. Like whenever he described melded magic and how it worked exactly. It was surprising how easy he made it sound when any of the professors back in Sharia would stumble through their words and just say, "It is what it is." That didn't mean the boy was without his faults, though.

"Rudeus isn't all that strong once you get to know him, Sylphie." Roxy's voice sounded a touch sad, didn't it? I mean, once you see the boy at his lowest, you can't see him in the same light anymore. He wasn't a peerless paragon of magical knowledge. Instead, he was an intelligent boy who had his own demons to deal with.

"Rudy's really strong, Master! You should know that more than anyone—" Roxy thought for a second. She hadn't told her of his nightmares, had she? The woman thought momentarily but decided it wasn't overstepping boundaries to inform his friend of his more glaring problems.

"Well, you see, Rudy has these nightmares occasionally—" She dragged her words purposefully, almost wanting to be stopped by some hidden force.

Nothing like that gave her a convenient out, so she continued. "You see, these nightmares are very intense. Every time he's had them, he continually screams or cries." The worry on Sylphiette's face was disheartening, and in a moment, almost unexpectedly, Sylphie tried to run off, most likely toward the Greyrat house. If it weren't for Roxy grabbing her by the hood to stop her, she'd probably already be halfway there.

"Wait, right there, missy!" The moment after that, the elf lost her footing on the snow and slipped onto her behind.

"Let go, Master! If Rudy's hurt or something, I have to help him!" From what Roxy could see, the girl was practically on the verge of tears when she looked back at her teacher. Sylphie struggled but stopped when Roxy touched her head to ease her worry.

"He's not hurt or anything like that, and it isn't the kind of pain you can heal with healing magic—it just seems he's going through a lot at the moment. I understand your worry. Kids like you shouldn't have nightmares like Rudy does, but so far, I'm the only one able to ease him—why, we don't know." The girl pouted when Roxy finally let her go. She couldn't tell what had made her have that expression, but the demon figured it could've been the notion that she wouldn't let her run to him. It could've also been because Roxy said she was the only one capable of helping him.

"Instead of worrying about Rudy, you should worry about your feelings, little miss." Roxy poked her in the cheek with her staff, and the little girl gave her teacher a meek look, almost as if she were a deer caught by a hunter. She had become a flush red when the word feelings reached her dagger-like ears.

"It's nothing like that!" She shot her hands out to her sides. The same little hands which were now bundled up into fists.

You acting up this much already confirms my suspicions.

"Aww, come on~. I wouldn't be your Master without knowing and picking up the hints you've been laying all over the place. At the end of the day, even Sylphie is still a little girl." Teasing her was plenty enjoyable enough. Roxy could never get Rudy with this kind of teasing. She was the one being bullied by him most of the time, so this was refreshing by comparison. "You don't have to lie to your Master. I won't let a soul know what we discuss during our lessons." This is what girls do, right? Talk about their feelings and stuff? Roxy never had that many friends growing up or in Sharia, so she didn't know. How was Lene or Lanletta doing nowadays? Roxy hadn't seen either of them since her time in Sharia.

Look at me now. I've been teaching two prodigies, yet I've never even spent a night with a man, and here I am trying to help my student with her love life—aren't I the one who needs coaching?! I"m thirty-eight, knocking on thirty-nine, for crying out loud!

Sylphie is four, though—you couldn't consider her feelings for Rudeus to be of love. If anything, it seemed like it was the start of a childhood crush. If you take that with her confession she did on his graduation day, you could hardly consider her an ordinary girl. She was much brighter than a person her age ought to be, but when you compare her to Rudeus, she didn't match up, but to be fair, no child did. Nevertheless, Roxy knows one surefire way to end this back and forth. "Well, I'd be wary, Sylphie. Sir Paul already knows how you feel and is trying to get Rudy—"

"Lord Paul knows that I like Rudy?!" Fear seemed to rip through the girl at the moment.

Uh oh, Sylphie, you let the cat out of the bag. A second later, the girl covered her mouth after she shouted. Then she slumped over and hugged her knees. Then she started—crying…? Roxy stood there for a second, not moving. What was I supposed to do in a situation like this? I-I just need to reassure her, right? "There, there, Sylphie. I didn't mean to upset you or anything…" She crouched down next to the girl and patted her head. This worked for Rudy, so that might be the optimal treatment.

"W-why do you and R-Rudy just pat my head?" She was back to stuttering and only seemed to cry even harder.

"You just have really soft hair, Sylphie—it's nice to touch." She cried even louder. Oh, right—she has that whole complex about her hair.

Why am I just absolutely the worst at consoling a child? Roxy looked over the girl's head whom she was currently comforting and saw a sight she didn't expect. Is that Laws—on Caravaggio? He was plain as day as he rode to their location.

Roxy could see from here that he had a look of panic sprawled across his face.

"Miss Roxy! Phi!" The voice of her father seemed to calm the tiny girl down handily. When Laws reached the bottom of the hill, he leaped off the horse and quickly ran up it.

Did something happen?

"Father? Is something wrong—" Seeing her distressed father worried Sylphiette but definitely let her ease up on the tears falling from her cheeks. Laws ran and hugged the girl in an almost frenzy. A moment later, he covered her ears with his hands. Roxy could see that the man was trembling slightly.

"Miss Roxy, there's been a murder in the village—it was Mister Smith." He breathed deeply and spoke in a shaky voice.

Murder…? She shook at the thought. Mister Smith—he was kind; I can't see why anyone would want him dead. Roxy had seen her fair share of things throughout her time, but a murder wasn't something she'd have expected from a place like Buena. To say she was desensitized to death wouldn't be how she'd readily describe herself, but she had seen that enough times as an adventurer. It was a common occurrence among newbies, after all. She had even taken several lives in her life.

"Paul should already be there." Her father was still covering Sylphie's ears. She didn't fight the hold, but her face portrayed a shocked and worried little girl. "Lia's already heading over, so can you please take Phi back to the Greyrat's house?" His voice was firm. He didn't want his little girl to see a dead man today.

"I can do that…" With her answer, Laws uncupped Sylphie's ears. She looked at the two adults with a questioning gaze.

"Dad, what's happening?"

"Nothing that concerns you, Phi… I was hoping you could stay with the Greyrats for the day. You can play with Rudeus while I'm out in the village." He gave a forced smile. Sylphie was most certainly not buying her father's statement but nodded anyway.

"Miss Roxy, please take Caravaggio back to the house. I'm sure Paul and I will be stopping by later." Roxy nodded and, with a reassuring smile to his daughter, Laws ran down the hill and back toward Buena.

"You worried, Sylphie?" The girl clutched her wand tightly, watching her father's back grow smaller as he ran off.

"A little—I just have a feeling that something terrible is gonna happen." Roxy could understand why she'd think that, but it wouldn't do her any good to worry.

"Just let the adults handle it—" She rubbed Sylphie's head with her free hand. "You kids shouldn't have to worry about something the adults will take care of."

What would Rudy do in this scenario…? Who am I kidding? He's just a child… With that thought in mind, Roxy mounted Caravaggio and hoisted Sylphie onto the horse's back. Without any delay, they headed toward the Greyrat residence.

Notes:

Author's Note: Well, here you have chapter nine. I don't want to give away too many details on what I want to do, but it would be great to hear what you guys think is happening in the story. We're getting closer to the end of Buena with each chapter, so I can't wait to see what everyone thinks about the finished arc when it is finally concluded.

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. Even if I don't comment on every comment, I still look at them, so thanks to everyone who leaves them.