Chapter 13
“Sorry.”
“I have no excuse.”
Cideon pinched the bridge of his nose as he looked at Oban, Millen, and Adolf.
All three were in a push-up-like stance called the “face-down stretch,” with their foreheads almost touching the floor, hands behind their backs, and their hips lifted to support their weight.
Millen and Adolf, skilled in swordsmanship and martial arts, were fine, but Oban trembled slightly.
He must have had a lot of stamina to last this long.
“Stand up. Why are you doing something I didn’t even order?”
“Sorry!”
“Enough. Stand up.”
All of this was surely done for him. These were people who had faced life and death alongside him and sworn to give their lives for him.
Technically, acting on their own and making things worse should be punishable by death under the rules—but Cideon decided to let it slide.
‘Since there’s no reaction, Bonni Chegou must be mentally okay.’
Magical contracts enforce consequences for actions that break their terms.
According to the contract, Cideon could not cause Bonni Chegou “serious mental harm.”
This was tricky. “Serious” is vague—it could mean different things to different people.
At the time, he neither had the ability nor the authority to change the contract.
Cideon accepted the strange inspiration along with the few rules of the contract.
“This old man has only one condition. When my granddaughter reaches adulthood, give her a position.”
Cideon was thirteen that year. By calculation, Broad’s granddaughter was only seven.
In the Harrier Kingdom, adulthood was twenty. That left thirteen years before she would be considered an adult.
A promise that far in the future? Usually, it meant an engagement.
“Do you mean I should marry the baron’s granddaughter?”
“Ha! Engagement? I mean a job. Give her a position when she becomes an adult.”
How ridiculous. Asking a person who doesn’t even have a place to live and is staying at the Count Onaid’s to give a job.
Cideon couldn’t help but laugh.
“Do you know what I’m doing right now?”
Broad laughed heartily. Then, patting Cideon’s neck like a fool, he said as if he knew everything:
“You’re doing something, aren’t you? You have a path to follow.”
Broad’s cunning had been consistent for years.
But all Cideon could do, as always, was clench his empty fists and nod.
The terms of the contract he offered were simple:
-
When Broad’s granddaughter comes of age, she must be given a job.
-
No unfair dismissal except for good reasons; no physical or serious mental harm.
-
If she chooses to leave, Cideon will provide some independence funds, and the contract ends immediately.
Broad put his precious granddaughter as collateral; Cideon, who had nothing, put his own life as collateral.
“May this be a good contract for both of us. Before that day, it’s best to see your granddaughter once. I will notify you of a suitable day.”
Cideon clenched his lips, biting gently, and clasped Broad’s hand as a response.
When he finally met the granddaughter, Cideon quietly observed her.
He noticed her red-tinged cheeks in the evening light, her small nose, and the wavy hair dancing on her white, round forehead.
He felt relieved she didn’t resemble Broad in any way. Perhaps that was why she seemed cute and even a little lovable.
Cideon followed her bright blue eyes as she examined him from head to toe—shoes, clothes, face, hair.
Then she pointed at him with a small finger.
“Who’s this old man? Is he your friend?”
…What? Old man?
“Ah, Bonni.”
Cideon had just turned fourteen a few days ago. He was tall and strong for his age, so someone might mistake him for an adult.
But being an adult doesn’t mean she could call him “grandfather.” There are boundaries.
‘She’s a child; maybe she doesn’t know proper titles yet.’
…Really?
Cideon frowned at the strange title, and the girl’s eyes met his with a sharpness unlike when she looked at Broad.
“My cute treasure. Why did you think that?”
At that moment, he saw hostility clearly in her normally gentle eyes.
“Her hair! It’s the same color as grandpa’s!”
“Ha! You’re right! Smart too!”
Smart? She’s probably just a fool who can’t tell white hair from silver. Hair color doesn’t matter!
Cideon gritted his teeth.
“Because of that old man, grandpa went to the capital, right? So he couldn’t come to my birthday?”
She already knew. She did it on purpose.
She might not resemble Broad physically, but she had the same nerve-rattling ways.
“Grandpa, are you going to the capital again with that old man? Can’t you stay?”
“Ha, Bonni. Look up and greet him.”
“No! I don’t want to greet him! He took my grandpa! Boo-hoo!”
She started crying. Broad gently rocked her up and down, like a rhythm, trying to calm her.
When patting her back didn’t stop the tears, Broad tried a more unusual method—something Cideon could hardly imagine.
“That person made our granddaughter sad. This grandpa will punish him! Bad person! Making our granddaughter cry!”
Smack!
The slap was weak, but the sound was sharp.
Smack! Smack!
“The grandpa punished the bad person who made our cute granddaughter upset! Good, isn’t it? Now stop crying.”
Cideon was stunned. He couldn’t even speak. His mind processed everything slowly.
Bonni finally stopped crying, burying her face in his chest, mumbling:
“No, it’s okay. But I still don’t like that person. Really don’t like him.”
Cideon thought silently: I don’t like him either. Chegou is really annoying.
The favorability that was supposed to rise after the thief incident remained unchanged for days.
He expected the quest to be easy once the thief was caught—but it didn’t rise. He was disappointed.
‘Of course it should have gone up.’
Where I come from, catching a thief with a broom gets you in the newspaper and a commendation from the authorities!
Here, favorability <Normal Level 1> felt meaningless.
He had tried many things to raise favorability afterward—all failed.
‘Dealing with this picky person is really hard.’
Maybe that’s why he worried. Yesterday, a visitor looked very tired, and he worried. Then he secretly gave a small bottle.
The bottle contained a finely ground yellow powder.
“This is a herb that only grows in our village. Dissolve it in water—it’s a bit sour but relieves fatigue. Only our villagers know this secret.”
