JULIAN GREYRAT
My body felt like a sack of rocks, weighed down by exhaustion that still clung to my bones. I'd pushed my mana to its limits again, all due to my experiments on those prisoners. And to make matters worse, I'd unconsciously left the barrier technique running, draining my mana without pause.
The strain on my energy was intense, but I could sense the slow recovery beginning.
Shifting in what I initially thought was my bed—though, it was much harder—elicited a tired groan from me. With a drowsy blink, I managed to pry my eyes open. Rubbing my eyes groggily, my gaze fell upon a blanket draped over me.
"Hm?"
The blanket wasn't a familiar sight. Wait... this wasn't even my room.
Uh-oh...
It seemed that after I carried Nanahoshi back to her room, my consciousness had given in simultaneously. Well, I was pretty exhausted, to be fair. It appeared that she had tucked me in and placed the blanket over me.
I tried to sit up but felt a subtle soreness in my limbs. Picking up the covers, I saw a big amoeba shaped wet mark on my pants.
Nocturnal Emission, huh?
It is a spontaneous orgasm during sleep that includes ejaculation for a male which usually happens after stressful dreams in REM sleep which activate the sympathetic nervous system hence leading to ejaculation.
Nocturnal emissions are most common during adolescence and early young adult years, but they may happen any time after puberty. It is possible for men to wake up during a wet dream or simply to sleep through it.
Average age of puberty was around 8-14 in my old world. Which means, that currently I was in the process of puberty. Other than a few massive growth spurts, I haven't really noticed any other changes in me. Perhaps the facial hair genetics are not very good in the family.
Hmm, facial hair, huh?
Maybe I should try growing it once I am a bit older.
Well, anyways, I think I should washup first.
With a swift movement, I removed the covers from over me, rolled them and tossed them into the laundry and went to the bath.
(*********)
Emerging from the bath, a white towel draped around my lower body, I felt a sensation of renewal wash over me. Wisps of steam spiraled upward from my body, carrying with them the residual warmth and relaxation from the hot water.
It was as though the steam itself carried away the traces of fatigue that had clung to me—the aftermath of both the nocturnal emission and the depletion of mana through my experiments.
The bath had been a haven, a refuge from the complexities and challenges of the day. As the water had embraced me, the knots of tension that had accumulated gradually unraveled.
The heat had seeped into my muscles, melting away the stress and weariness that had settled deep within. It was like shedding layers of exhaustion, one by one, until only a sense of vitality remained.
As I stepped out of the bathroom, the cool air caressed my skin, heightening the sensation of rejuvenation. Currently, I was back in my room.
Employing [Wind Magic], I summoned a gentle breeze to aid in the drying process, ridding my skin of any residual moisture. With renewed vigor, I slipped into a set of casual attire. This day held no obligations— a rare respite in my schedule—yet it was also marked by a meeting that I had put on hold for a long time and that required my attention.
It wasn't work related. By saying "work" related, I mean something that involves Orsted's objectives.
Today, I opted for an attire distinct from my usual robes---a gift from Nanahoshi on my 13th birthday.
Instead, I selected an ensemble that exuded a more relaxed vibe. A grey shirt formed the foundation, complemented by a black top. Below, I wore the same shade of black pants as my top, striking a balance between casual comfort and presentability.
After that, I walked toward the lower drawers. Carefully, I retrieved a pair of shoes crafted from the tender hide of an [A Rank] monster. Not only were they comfortable, but their quality and origin denoted their Comfort. The hide of this monster had thermal insulation properties with automatic response to surroundings.
In essence, it functioned as a temperature regulator, creating a contrast between its internal conditions and the external surroundings. Consequently, on scorching days, the interior remained refreshingly cool, while on chilly occasions, the interior exuded a comforting warmth.
One could also say I may have "cold feet".
*silence*
Hm, I shouldn't joke. I am not very good at it.
Moving on.
With Orsted absent from the premises, I decided to start my day by visiting my mother's room. As I entered, a peculiar emptiness greeted me—she wasn't there. Almost involuntarily, my hand instinctively drifted toward the space where my sword typically hung, a customary precaution I usually took before venturing out.
However, since today wasn't marked by a mission or task requiring its presence, I had left it behind.
My gaze scanned the room, a sense of unease beginning to unfurl within me. Fingers tapped lightly against my thigh in a subtle display of restlessness as I took in the absence of her familiar presence.
I stood in the midst of the room, my senses heightened, attempting to discern any trace of her. Yet, despite my efforts, there was an unsettling void where her essence should have been. I was about to activate my [Mana Eyes] to detect her mana residue but my eyes landed on a piece of paper.
Walking over to it, I picked it up and read it.
I am talking mom to the market. You can't keep her cooped up in the room all day. Stop being such a mom con. ~Nanahoshi.
Ah, she must have taken her with her. While Nanahoshi possessed no magical powers, it was still a reassurance to have her accompanied. Perhaps I should consider acquiring a slave and training it, to be constantly by her side even when I couldn't be there.
The idea of procuring a slave, someone who could offer both protection and assistance, seemed like a practical one.
Well, I'll think about it at a later time.
A sudden pang of hunger stirred within me, interrupting my train of thought. It was as if my body had suddenly realized it required sustenance, and the feeling grew stronger with each passing second. With a resigned sigh, I set aside my current thoughts.
Navigating the familiar corridors of the residence, I soon found myself in the heart of the house—the kitchen. The aroma of cooking wafted through the air, teasing my senses and intensifying my hunger.
As I entered, I noticed something unusual. There, on the kitchen counter, was a spread of ingredients that seemed to have been prepared beforehand.
Four whole eggs nestled in a neat row, alongside a handful of beans and a medley of mushrooms. A few slices of bread were artfully arranged nearby. The question of who had taken the time to cook escaped me; it was a mystery that got clouded in the face of my growing appetite.
With the meal now plated, I settled into a chair at the kitchen table, a sense of anticipation building within me. I usually do not eat food prepared by someone else, but it's not like I do not appreciate meal made by someone else.
As I brought the first forkful of food to my mouth, a cascade of flavors exploded on my palate—richness from the eggs, earthiness from the beans, and a satisfying crunch from the mushrooms. The bread provided a perfect accompaniment, its warmth and texture completing the culinary experience.
It was quite decent----surprisingly.
Probably mom made it.
The meal disappeared surprisingly quickly, each bite satisfying the gnawing hunger that had spurred me to the kitchen.
With a contented sigh, I leaned back in the chair, appreciating the simple pleasure of a well-cooked meal.
Having sated my hunger, I rose from the table and headed to the sink to wash the dishes, my mind already turning to the next step in my day. The thought of a cup of tea to aid digestion surfaced in my mind, and I quickly set a kettle to boil.
The fragrant aroma of steeping leaves soon filled the air, comforting and invigorating all at once. Once it came to a boil and the leaves started to leave their colour, I poured it into my mug and squeezed a lemon in it.
Cup in hand, I moved through the hallways of the residence, my destination clear. It was time I did a bit of training.
Reaching towards the far end of the house, I walked down the stairs leading to the basement. The basement was a single, gigantic room. The room's metallic walls bore the marks of countless sparring sessions—bent and broken shards of metal scattered across the floor.
Me and Orsted did countless spars here since Nanahoshi would often nag about broken plants. For someone with little to no interest in anything of this world, she sure cared a lot about greenery. Then again, I think it's just how women are. There is no coherent reasoning in their actions.
Stepping into the room, I took a deep breath, feeling a surge of energy coursing through me. My mana was almost recovered and now my morning routine awaited, a series of exercises that not only maintained my physical form but also served as a boost to my swordsmanship abilities.
Push-ups, pull-ups, crunches, squats, dips, bear crawls and planks. I did them until I felt my body protest. Needless to say, I did not employ mana.
As I moved through the routine, I used [Ice Magic] to cool the room, preventing the inevitable sweat that accompanied such rigorous exercise. The chilled air provided a refreshing contrast to the exertion, allowing me to push myself further without discomfort.
Each repetition brought me closer to a state of clarity, the physical exertion clearing my mind and focusing my thoughts.
By the time the routine was complete, I stood in the center of the room, my chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. The sense of accomplishment that accompanied a well-executed workout was undeniable.
With a final, calming breath, I wiped the sweat from my brow and made my way toward the exit.
The next item on my agenda was long overdue—a meeting that had been postponed for far too long. As I strode through the corridors of the residence, my thoughts turned to the individual I was about to meet. The purpose of the rendezvous was nothing too significant.
It wouldn't matter even if I do not go. But I do not have anything else to do for the time being. With that thought on my mind, I departed from the house.
(***********)
I arrived at Capital City of Rapan after a few minutes of a rented carriage ride. At times like these, I sometimes remember Kalajav---my horse, however, I lost it during the Metastasis Event. After that, I wasn't able to meet horse as strong and sturdy as him, so I never got another horse.
It seems like he was the only horse meant for me. And if that's so, then I might've lost a valuable asset.
Navigating through the bazaar, I opened the crumpled piece of paper and went over the contents. There was a name and an address. It wasn't too far from my current location. Activating my [Mana Eyes], I studied the lingering mana residue on it. Lookinng around, I tried to reach out for the specific residue of magic.
After a few moments of focused exploration, I eventually pinpointed the source. Surprisingly, it was merely a street adjacent to my current position, deviating from the address inscribed on the paper.
Putting the piece of paper back in my pocket, I walked over to the owner of the residue. The person was hunched, picking up a few vegetables from the stall. I walked over, my footsteps muffled under the veil of cacophony of noises in the bustling bazaar.
As I drew near, I extended my arm and lightly touched her shoulder. In a swift instance, her body quivered, and her gaze snapped around to meet mine. However, the initial reaction swiftly faded, replaced by a fleeting expression of puzzlement, only to quickly transform into one of recognition. In a subtle display of deference, she offered a slight bow, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke, "S-Sir Julian!"
"At ease. Don't be so nervous, Eva." I spoke up, my voice low.
"Ah, oh, sorry for that. I wasn't expecting you to meet you here," she responded, her words a touch hurried. Subsequently, she began to haphazardly adjust the disheveled strands of her silver hair, attempting to restore some semblance of order.
"Hm? Oh, it's my fault. I should have announced my presence." I replied, looking at her and then at the basket full of vegetables. Hmmm, let's see; garlic, tomatoes, mushrooms, onions and carrots. "Vegetable stew?" I asked out loud.
The girl looked at me by tilting her head before looking at her basked. "Oh? You mean this!" She spoke in a tone as if lamenting over something, "Yes. I was buying a few things to make a vegetable stew. I wasn't expecting you though. I will buy something better."
"No need for that. I was just keeping a promise." I replied as she nodded. Once she completed her purchase, I paid for it, despite her reluctance initially. Following the completion of her shopping, I fell into step behind her, the silence between us hanging undisturbed. Neither of us uttered a word.
The only social skill I had was that I excelled at curtailing---ending conversations, but initiating or sustaining them was a realm I seldom.... uh, almost never ventured into. While I hadn't given it much thought, I couldn't envision myself attempting it in the foreseeable future either.
I found myself pondering this as I reflected on my own behavior. Curiously, I realized that I did engage in conversations quite frequently with my mother and Nanahoshi. It was a paradoxical contrast to my usual reticence. Why did I feel comfortable talking to them? The answer eluded me momentarily.
"So, err, Sir Juli--"
"Just Julian is fine. I don't particularly care for honorifics, especially when I'm just hanging around," I interjected casually, my hand offering a dismissive wave.
For a moment, it appeared she was about to respond with a retort, but she ultimately smiled and nodded, her head giving a slight bob. "Sure. Thank you! Although..."
"Hm?"
"Why did you introduce yourself as Kiyotaka that day? I overheard people calling you Julian in the restaurant," she inquired, a glimmer of curiosity dancing within her crimson eyes.
I leaned back slightly, straightening my back, offering a nonchalant shrug. "I'm known by both names. I just happened to blurt out what came to mind in the spur of the moment." I replied as a matter-of-factly.
"Aha! I understand now," she responded, her tone reflecting a mix of revelation and understanding. Her reaction almost made it seem as if she had unraveled the mystery of the world. Was my choice of name bothering her to such an extent?
"So, where are you leading me?" I inquired, my hand instinctively finding its way to my neck as I gave it a slight twist. It had become a habit of mine in this world, much to Nanahoshi's chagrin. Though she constantly scolded me for breaking the habit, it seemed to have ingrained itself as a subconscious reflex by now. I found myself doing it involuntarily, almost as if it was beyond my control.
Not my fault, really.
"You're the one trailing behind, sire," she retorted playfully, a light giggle escaping her lips as she covered her mouth with her hand.
"Oh? In that case, I'll just head back the other way. Nice to meet you, take care, and goodbye," I responded briskly, pivoting on my heel to reverse my course. I hadn't quite expected the interaction to conclude so abruptly, but I figured I'd head back and perhaps catch some rest.
A full day of sleep. Hoorayy---!
However, just as I was about to embark on my retreat—A sudden tug caught me by surprise at the back of my attire.
"What?" I queried, casting a glance over my shoulder.
"I was kidding, Si—uh, what I mean is, I was just trying to make a joke," she explained, her expression bearing a hint of strain.
Ah, so she had been joking. Well, I suppose I'll fib a bit. Let's fall in line. "I was joking as well," I asserted, pivoting to face her directly.
Her countenance seemed to radiate an air of skepticism that was screaming, 'You can't be serious,' but what could I do? My facial features weren't exactly the most versatile for conveying nuances.
Not my fault, really.
Following that exchange, she guided me to her residence, which, in all honesty, exuded a sense of modesty.
The building itself was not imposing in size, presenting a rather unassuming facade. Inside, the space was sparsely furnished, with only the bare essentials present. In summary, the condition of the dwelling was far from ideal, manifesting signs of wear and neglect.
"Hm, uh, remind me why are we at your house again?" I inquired, my gaze sweeping across the surroundings. I noted the absence of any mana remnants apart from her own.
"Oh, my apologies... Well, why don't you have a seat? I'll fetch something for you," she suggested, her voice carrying a hint of hesitation. It appeared she wasn't entirely accustomed to conversing with people she wasn't too familiar with.
Body language serves as a compelling indication to the intricate interplay between non-verbal cues and human psychology.
It unveils a clandestine realm of thoughts and emotions that words often fail to capture. A mere tilt of the head, the fleeting glance, or the subtle wringing of hands can reveal volumes about an individual's underlying disposition.
Take, for instance, the pronounced manifestations of social anxiety: averted gaze, fidgeting, or the self-comforting embrace, all serve as poignant indicators of one's unease in unfamiliar social terrain.
Moreover, the hesitance in engaging with those of unfamiliar acquaintance unveils itself in the measured cadence of speech, the subdued tone, and the elusive eye contact that seeks refuge elsewhere. These nuances, often subliminal, form an indispensable lexicon through which astute observers decipher the intricate narratives of human interaction.
Yet, one must be cautious in their interpretation since it varies from human to human and that it can be easily manipulated. A farce to make one believe a certain way and to make someone drop their guard.
"So, um, what would you like?" she inquired, her head timidly emerging from what seemed to be a snug kitchenette, a contrast to the more expansive arrangement I had witnessed at Orsted's abode.
"Hmm. Coffee," I unintentionally blurted out, momentarily forgetting that coffee wasn't a commonplace beverage in this world, despite my ability to replicate it.
"Coff—what?" She arched her head in a swift gesture of puzzlement.
"Water will suffice," I quickly amended my request, hoping to steer the conversation away from the unfamiliar subject. Given that knowledge about the coffee beans I'd been distributing was limited, hence, her reaction was unsurprising.
She disappeared into the kitchen and emerged swiftly, carrying a glass of chilled water. After I finished the refreshing drink, she initiated her introduction.
Her name was Eva, and she didn't possess a surname. Her lineage was a blend of human and demon ancestry, her mother being of the demon race.
The particular demon lineage she hailed from remained a puzzle even to herself, primarily due to the rarity of silver-haired demons like herself. Eva's mother had passed away during childbirth, leading her father to entrust her care to her grandmother and depart, leaving her alone.
She mentioned his departure was ostensibly driven by grief, but it was more plausible that his absence stemmed from a lack of responsibility. Such occurrences weren't unheard of, even back on earth, where fathers vanish after their children's births.
Abortion was a rare choice in this world, making the possibility that Eva might have been the result of a mistake or a fleeting affair quite plausible. Despite the circumstances, it seemed unlikely that a father's departure could be entirely attributed to grief for his wife.
Of course, I refrained from vocalizing my thoughts, as she appeared to harbor some empathy for her father. Bursting that bubble would likely serve no constructive purpose.
Curiosity led me to inquire about her grandmother, and she informed me that her grandmother had recently passed away, bequeathing her the modest dwelling as her sole inheritance. This house stood as her solitary possession.
Observing her surroundings, it was evident that maintaining the house might prove more burdensome than beneficial. The upkeep and associated expenses seemed disproportionate to the advantages of having a roof over her head.
Inquiring further, I asked about her occupation. She revealed that she was presently unemployed and contemplating the prospect of embarking on an adventuring career. Her intention was to eliminate low-level monsters and secure enough earnings to sustain herself.
While a sense of empathy wasn't my natural inclination, the dynamics were undergoing a significant change due to a specific proposition I had in mind. This marked a departure from my usual disinterest in others' situations.
Given the intermittent nature of my presence of being always away for missions, entrusting my mother's care solely to Nanahoshi didn't sit well with me and left a bad taste in my mouht. The responsibility should rightly be mine, as she is MY mother, rather than being passed onto Nanahoshi, who had her own commitments.
She had to focus on going back to her old world. Not do chores for someone else.
"Are you still actively seeking employment?" I inquired, a hint of purpose underlying my question.
"Ehm, as I mentioned before, I'm contemplating the adventuring path, although my current skill level leaves me quite uncertain---dubious even," she responded, her fingers absently scratching the back of her ear in a gesture of uncertainty.
"I take it that you're a magician, yes?" I inquired, my gaze subtly directed to her palm, exposed as she scratched her ear. It was oddly smooth, like polished surface of a marble.
Taking into account her choice of clothing and the fabric it was made out of, it appeared that she leaned towards mid-range spellcasting. Long-range magicians tended to opt for lighter, more flexible fabrics, while those who favored mid-range combat often chose thicker materials that provided some measure of defense against potential physical blows.
"You can tell?" she inquired, her eyes widening in genuine surprise as her attention turned towards her own ensemble. "These are just my comfortable home clothes, not exactly my usual attire. How were you able to discern that?" She continued; her curiosity evident as her eyes sparkled with intrigue.
"Intuition," I responded with a casual shrug of my shoulders. While not an outright falsehood, it wasn't the full truth either.
I had witnessed Komrad using a similar tactic before. He deliberately displayed items associated with the [North God Style] to mislead, even though his true proficiency lay in the [Sword God Style], a fact betrayed by the length of the hilt required for his signature move, the [Long Sword of Light].
Thus, while my deduction wasn't entirely baseless, there was room for error.
"I see. Well, yes, from a young age, I've been informed that I possess a substantial pool of mana," she shared, her tone a mix of contemplation and nostalgia. "As a result, my grandmother procured several magic tomes, and I managed to achieve an intermediate level in all categories of [Attack Magic]. However, I've been stuck at a plateau for quite some time now. No matter how diligently I strive, it has become stagnant," she continued, a trace of melancholy tingeing her smile as she gazed at her palm, seemingly lost in recollections of days gone by.
"I see," I responded, my tone subdued. Achieving intermediate rank in all branches of attack magic was an uncommon feat. Her advancement stalling due to resource constraints seemed plausible, although it wasn't the only factor.
Once a mage grasped the fundamentals of manipulating mana, avenues for advancing ranks could be explored through inventive applications or sheer mana expenditure, much like Rudeus' approach.
Sill, that is impressive.
"So, um, I was thinking about repay--"
"I have a job for you," I interjected, my gaze unwavering as I fixed my eyes directly on her.
"E-eh, what?" Her eyes widened, her expression reflecting a mix of confusion and disbelief, as though struggling to process my statement.
Did she suddenly lose her grasp of the [Human Tongue]? Should I attempt to communicate in the [Demon God Language]?
"I mentioned that I have a job for you," I repeated, this time in the [Demon God Language]. Her eyes grew even wider, a reaction I hadn't anticipated. I hadn't realized human eyes could stretch to such an extent, but then again, she was only half human. In her case, perhaps anything was possible.
"No, I heard you clearly the first time. I was just... uh..." she faltered.
"Surprised?" I offered, completing her thought, my head resting against the back of my hand.
"Uh, yes, I mean, uh, what kind of job are you offering?" she inquired, her demeanor shifting noticeably. Her posture took on a distinct quality, one that suggested she wasn't approaching this from a position of gratitude, but rather that of negotiating a deal.
Nice.
"I am in need of a caretaker for my mother. Originally, I considered acquiring a slave and providing training, but given your circumstances and your accommodation in the criteria I had, I have a proposal for you," I explained, outlining the situation at hand. I refrained from divulging the specific details of Zenith's condition, opting instead for a more general overview.
"I see..." Her voice tapered off, and her gaze lifted to meet mine. Her crimson eyes held a faint but discernible intensity, "....are you suggesting that I become your slave?" she queried, her tone bearing a distinct edge.
"Not a slave. A maid, if you'd prefer the term," I corrected, aiming to clarify the nature of the role. Her response conveyed a sense of skepticism, as if the notion of being a maid might be beneath her.
Embedded within the very essence of life itself, across species and epochs, lies an intrinsic inclination towards the path of least resistance.
This cardinal principle, an embodiment of efficiency, reflects an adaptive wisdom honed by evolution. Yet, it is a principle that extends beyond mere survival into the intricate fabric of human behavior, transcending biological impetus to become a psychological underpinning.
The human psyche, with its proclivity for comfort and familiarity, renders individuals susceptible to the influence of those who discern and capitalize upon this inherent predilection.
By aligning their overtures with the preexisting inclinations of their target, one can orchestrate a subtle symphony that guides the course of interaction toward the desired culmination. This art of manipulation, while bearing an unsettling connotation, is itself a testament to the intricate cognitive landscape that characterizes our species.
It underscores the delicate interplay between autonomy and susceptibility, inviting a nuanced exploration of the ethical dimensions that govern the manipulation of innate human tendencies.
"You value your life, yes?" I continued pressing as she looked down, her hand balling into fists, ".....you do not want to become an adventurer but since you're no good at other jobs, it is the only one that you can opt for."
"I..." Her response faltered; her voice barely audible as she seemed to grapple with her thoughts.
"If you don't want to, I will not force you." I spoke and was about to stand up.
"No, I mean, uh, I wanted to repay you for that day, but it ended up with you helping me again." She spoke, standing up.
"I am not helping you. I expect you to work all hours of the day, every day to look after my mom. I might kill you if you slack off too." I spoke in a nonchalant tone.
She stayed silent and suddenly smiled, bowing her head in a rather noble-like way, "Thank you very much for the offer. I will gladly take it up."
Oh? I didn't even tell her how much I'd be paying her. Well, I guess I can pay her ther bare minimum. Hmmmm.
But then again, she would be serving Zenith not me, so a higher pay would be better. People are often swayed with money. Majority of them.
And that is how I got a maid for my mother. Eva.
Afterwards, I brought her to fabrics shop and brought a ready-made maid outfit for her.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Name: Eva
AGE: 20+
Hair: Silver
Eyes: Crimson
Occupation: Zenith Greyrat's personal maid
(***)
3rd Person Perspective
The setting sun cast long shadows as evening descended upon the desert landscape of the Begaritt Continent, a region known for its relatively cool temperatures during this time of day.
The sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink as it slowly descended beyond the horizon, casting a cold yet golden glow over the Begaritt Continent. the screech of random monsters flying here and there. However, the avoided flying over Orsted's house becauseof a strong, potent mana residue.
Julian Greyrat.
Unbeknownst to this phenomenon, Julian stood on the expansive balcony of his home, his gaze fixed on the serene scene unfolding before him.
His sharp eyes took in every detail of the landscape—the way the fading sunlight kissed the desert sands, the delicate dance of leaves in the breeze, and the distant city lights that began to twinkle like stars.
Julian was a man of observation, finding solace in the subtleties that often went unnoticed by others.
With a deep inhale, Julian absorbed the scents carried by the wind—the earthy fragrance of the desert, the sweet aroma of blooming flowers from his lawn, and a hint of spices from his kitchen. He relished the softness of the evening light on his skin and the distant echoes of laughter from the bustling city beyond.
As the evening progressed, Julian's senses remained sharp, attuned to the ever-changing environment around him. He observed the gradual shift in colors as the sky darkened, the emergence of the first stars, and the way the city's lights began to paint patterns against the night canvas.
His contemplation was interrupted by movement at the entrance of his estate. A spark of surprise ignited within him as he spotted figures approaching. It took only a moment for recognition to dawn upon him—a mixture of subtle giddiness and anticipation bubbling up within his chest.
Nanahoshi was returning after a long absence, and she wasn't alone. Julian watched Nanahoshi walk towards the house, his mother by his side. His previous worries about his mother instantly faded away. Nanahoshi was grinning ear to ear as she talked to Zenith while the usually impassive expression of Zenith was coloured by a meek smile.
She was wearing a silky dress that covered the entirety of her neck and narrowed down just under bosoms, further accentuating her feminine beauty. Her hair was tied in her usual bun, framing her slightly chubby face into perfection.
(Thanks to Hyakki Hiryu for making this remedy for tired souls)
With a glint in his eyes, he backed up a few steps, his muscles coiled like a spring. Then, with a surge of adrenaline, he leaped over the balcony railing. Time seemed to slow as he descended gracefully, the wind whipping past him.
The ground rushed up to meet him, and he landed softly, his knees bending to absorb the impact. Julian straightened and looked at the surprised and baffled faces of both Nanahoshi and his mother.
He looked straight at his mother who suddenly smiled. Without saying a word, she extended her hands forward. Julian's face remained still, however, he bent his back and lowered himself to hug Zenith.
Nanahoshi watched from behind, her head tilting slightly as she watched them with a warm look in her eyes.
"Tell me next time where you're taking my mo-- ow." Julian suddenly yelped as Zenith pinched his arm, prompting him to shut his mouth and not talk in a mean way to Nanahoshi.
"I left a note. You should at least be able to pick your mom's mana residue if you were that worried." She replied with an indifferent shrug.
"Hmm." He hummed and then looked down at Zenith. "Are you alright?"
She merely bobbed her head in affirmation and patted Nanahoshi's head. There was a subtle blush on her face, but she looked the other way, not letting him see it.
"So uh, mo--"
"Welcome back, ma'am." A voice interrupted them suddenly---this time to the emergence of a new figure. Eva, the new maid, stepped out onto the porch, her presence exuding a quiet confidence.
Her maid outfit a unique blend of traditional and modern elements. The fitted blouse featured delicate lace accents that added a touch of elegance, and the knee-length skirt allowed for ease of movement. An elegant belt cinched her waist, completing the ensemble that seamlessly combined practicality and style.
However, as soon as Eva stepped onto the porch, Nanahoshi's demeanor shifted. Julian noticed a subtle change in Nanahoshi's expression—the cheerful smile fading, replaced by a guarded look.
She looked at him with a look that could easily qualify as a mix of disappointment and rage.
"Oh yea, this is Eva. She is--"
"I am a bit tired. I have to go back tomorrow to the academy to continue my research." She interjected, for the first time.
"Oh? Alright. Good night." Julian replied. However, upon looking at her face he was left confused as she had a baffled look on her face.
Without wasting a second, she bolted in.
"What's wrong with he--"
Once again, before he could finish his sentence, Zenith tip-toed since she was now much shorter than him and stroke his head with a punch. It was a harmless one and he didn't even feel it. However, the look of disbelief was evident. She striked him again, and again, and again.
"Wha---mom?" A confused stammer escaped his lips as he covered his head with his hands but didn't run away and let her punch him all she wanted. After a few minutes of relentless beating, she settled down, apparently out of breath.
Realising what this was all about, he quickly straightened his back. "Uh, mom. This is Eva, your maid. I made a contract with her this afternoon."
Zenith's expression changed for a moment and she facepalmed. Letting out a tired sigh, she spoke up for the first time since she came back. "Sleepy. Bed.....room."
"Eva." Julian called out as she lent her hand to Zenith and started leading her inside the room. Before she left, she slapped the back of Julian's head one last time.
"Not my fault she jumped to conclusions." Julian muttered under his breath, hoping his mother didn't hear him complain.
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