Ginz haphazardly threw his few clothes into a coarse burlap bag. Then, with the utmost care, he organized his tools into a special backpack with dozens of small pockets: scissors, knives, branding irons, sets of needles, bronze awls, and shears–all fitting into their designated places. Ginz's face remained emotionless. For someone who had fought tooth and nail to scratch up the little he had, he displayed no attachment to the workshop whatsoever.
Ginz gave me a small box containing leather cups and an assortment of dice sets made of wood and bone. I noticed a few sets of tinted red leather with golden rivets and dice made of ivory. The Liar’s Dice game must’ve been a success among guardsmen and nobles alike.
“Will you miss this place?” I asked.
“I hope never to come back. I’d rather work with you, even if that means being punched by Orcbud on a daily basis,” Ginz replied.
The life of a low-level craftsman wasn’t easy. The initial cost of becoming one was steep. A craftsman required a considerable amount of resources just to reach the level where their creations covered production costs. Then came the relentless competition against guilds and high-level craftsmen who could mass produce the same products at a higher quality and efficiency. Arguably, the life of an early crafter was even more bloody than the struggle of combatant classes.
“If you keep calling her Orcbud, you’ll wish to be back in no time,” I pointed out.
“I know. That was the last time. I swear,” Ginz said, checking his backpack for the last time.
Without looking back, Ginz pushed me out of the workshop. Outside, his roommates stood in a compact circle, engaged in hushed conversation. Firana stood a few meters away with her arms crossed. When the welcome bell rang, the craftsmen raised their heads and fixed their hungry eyes on Ginz.
The craftsman subtly jabbed me with his elbow.
“Ginz won’t be staying at the workshop any longer, so I’d call this a problem solved. Now give me back my sword, and we will leave,” I said, reaching out my hand.
The craftsmen were left speechless. What else did they expect? They probably wanted me to drag Ginz out of the workshop so they could steal his schematics. I clicked my tongue in annoyance. They would only let Ginz go after obtaining what they wanted.
“We made a pact. We promise to share all the recipes created at the workshop.” The tallest craftsman stepped forward, tightening his grip around my sword. “We want the explosive recipe and the steam machine schematics. They belong to us.”
I gave Ginz a quick glance, but he looked away. He hadn’t mentioned anything like a pact. It wasn’t a surprise he had barricaded inside the workshop. Then it clicked. Ginz was aware of the agreement and wanted me to drive his old companions away.
I considered my alternatives. This was the easiest among all the confrontations I had faced since arriving at Farcrest. I believed I could overpower them even with my bare fists. I sighed. While it would be easy, I was conscious of Firana watching. I checked my Character Sheet. [Intimidate] was still corrupted, but [Minor Illusion] was not. I could summon a Wendigo and call it a day, but even that was slightly over the top.
“Give my sword back. Last warning.”
“Not until you hand what’s ours,” the craftsman barked. They must’ve known I was a non-combatant.
“Those schematics are mine and not on sale,” I grunted.
The craftsmen laughed.
“Like the caretaker of a run-down orphanage could devise something like that. We will not move until Ginz surrenders the prototypes,” the craftsman said with a mocking grin. “You wouldn’t get it, Caretaker. We are talking about more money than you will earn in your entire life.”
Before I could start shaping my mana, Firana stepped forward and drew her sword. The craftsmen were momentarily taken aback, never before confronted by an armed opponent. After a second, they burst into laughter.
“What are you going to do, kid?” The tall man said. “We are unarmed non-combatants. The City Guard will put you in a cell before the end of the day if you ever dare to touch us.”
Firana grinned, separating her legs and adopting a menacing stance. “I don’t know about that. You have a sword in your hand, idiot.”
The craftsmen's faces turned as pale as milk. Then, the tall man dropped the sword and scurried like a roach back toward the safety of the workshop. His buddies hurried to follow. Firana, satisfied, picked up my sword and offered it to me with a wide smile.
“I didn’t use violence.” She proudly declared.
“Threatening someone with a sword counts as violence,” I replied, holding my laughter the best I could.
“Oh, shoot.” Firana deflated.
I gently patted her shoulder, secretly satisfied with the situation's outcome. Despite Firana’s uprising as the heir of a mercenary family, protecting others seemed ingrained in her nature. No matter how much pride I felt, I kept a stern expression. For the time being, I wanted to avoid normalizing violence.
“Let’s go before they think to call the guards,” I said.
Back at the manor, the guards at the iron gate greeted us. Sir Janus had taken the orphanage’s security with utmost seriousness. No member of the Aias extended family had dared to come nearby. However, with the royal army and a dozen noble families staying in the city, I feared the City Guard couldn’t spare any recruits to stand guard outside the orphanage.
Ginz had completed the shotgun shells just in time.
We crossed the iron gate. Ilya was sitting on the manor's steps, thoughtfully looking at her boots. My first instinct was to quickly cross the front yard. Halfway through, I noticed she wasn’t in distress. I was so used to dealing with problems that her wide smile threw me off. Ilya jumped on her feet and came to receive me. The girl gave me a tight surprise hug that I promptly reciprocated. Even if I wasn’t a hugs guy, I could get used to this.
“I’m guessing something good happened?” I jokingly said.
Ilya stepped back. Her smile was so big that it seemed impossible to erase.
“Look,” she said. Then, she summoned her character sheet and, with a hand movement, she pushed it at my face.
Name: Ilya, Gnome.
Class: None (Child).
Titles: Governess’s Little Helper.
Passive: Longsword Mastery Lv.1, Archery Lv.1
Skills: Mana Manipulation.
Status: Ecstatic Lv.1
Before I could react, Firana rushed past me and hugged Ilya from the stomach, lifting her into the air. Ilya kicked and struggled, but Firana’s embrace was too strong. Ilya had finally done it.
“Let me go!” Ilya demanded, but Firana ignored her.
After a moment of struggle, Ilya realized any resistance was futile and let Firana's display of affection go uncontested if only to finish quickly. Seeing both girls going along was rare, but life at the orphanage had changed a lot since my arrival. Despite the weak winter sun and the biting cold wind, my chest warmed.
I fed [Awareness] with a bit of mana. Even if my brain felt like a pin cushion, I wanted to take a permanent mental picture of the scene. Ilya and Firana had more in common than they suspected. Both were fiercely devoted to the orphanage in their own ways. I tried hard not to get emotional. These were the little things that made teaching worth the effort. It was easy to forget that people could change for the better.
“Just in time,” I said when Ilya’s feet touched the ground. “Firana earned us tickets to the tournament earlier today.”
Ilya raised an eyebrow.
“I fought Captain Kiln. She’s super strong!” Firana couldn’t hold her excitement anymore. She put her arm across Ilya’s shoulders and dragged her inside the manor as she told her about the duel in great detail. I decided to give them space to sort out their relationship.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
I stopped Ginz at the entrance and waited until the kids were out of earshot.
“Remember what we talked about?” I asked.
Ginz nodded. “Yes, no saying ‘Orcbud’ or any derivative. No mentioning the precarious state of the orphanage. And no telling the kids Elincia used to be a bully.” Ginz nodded.
“Was she a bully, though?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Most of the time, we deserved the beatings. Still, most of the time, Elincia put more strength than necessary behind her fists.” Ginz shrugged.
Good enough. I sighed and opened the front door to let Ginz enter. My intuition told me I wouldn’t get much more civility from the craftsman. I sighed yet again. Convincing Elincia to take him back was going to cost me. I just hoped she could leave old wounds aside and understand the advantages of having him at the orphanage.
I closed the door and searched my pockets for the key.
“Hey Elincia! Wow! Have you gotten some extra kilos lately?” Ginz said the instant I stopped paying attention.
A cold sweat covered my body. God damn you, Ginz. Everyone at the orphanage was better nourished since my arrival, but that wasn’t reason enough to point out people’s weight in such a direct way.
“Thanks, Ginz. In this household, we eat proper meals.” Elincia said with a smug expression.
The tension on my shoulders suddenly disappeared—another unnecessary scare. Having Ginz living at the orphanage wouldn’t do any favors for my cardiovascular health. I just hoped his skills as a craftsman at least offset his lack of social awareness.
“I invited Ginz to stay with us for a while. He has agreed to pay for the accommodations and teach classes in return.” I said before she could inquire about the reason behind Ginz’s visit.
Elincia’s expression quickly soured. I understood her response. Nothing could erase the fact Ginz had abandoned Elincia and the orphanage in the moment of greatest need. The past couldn’t be undone, but we needed to be pragmatic looking forward.
“I’m aware I wronged both you and Mister Lowell’s legacy. There’s no day I don't feel ashamed for leaving the orphanage, but please try to understand. We never got along, and I wasn’t made for raising kids. I mean, look at me. My spine is made of jelly at best.” Ginz suddenly said, his voice carrying a depth I never heard before. “I can’t say Rob is a smart man, but he has ideas that can change the orphanage and the whole kingdom. If you let me stay, I’ll work hard to make those ideas a reality.”
Other than the backhanded comment about my intelligence, Ginz’s level of introspection surprised me. Self-awareness was a strange commodity, after all. Elincia’s expression softened, probably thinking about Mr. Lowell’s original vision for the orphanage—a place where kids could learn all kinds of subjects and trades.
“You can stay. But remember, Ginz, you are on The List. ” Elincia said, her voice not welcoming nor threatening. I wondered if she had dwarven blood in her veins. Having a list of grudges sounded like something a dwarf would have. “Now, let me show you your new room,” Elincia added in a more civil tone.
I carried Ginz’s belongings to his new sleeping quarters. Elincia guided us across the reception room and into the dorms. Then she opened the last door at the end of the corridor. It was a medium-sized room, similar to the one she had given me before I started sleeping in her room. Elincia opened the curtains and the windows, letting a cold breeze wash away the smell of confinement.
“This used to be my room, wasn’t it?” Ginz said, examining the empty wardrobe for markings only he was aware of.
“Welcome back, dweeb,” Elincia replied. “Mister Lowell would’ve kept the doors open to every returning orphan, so feel at home.”
After a moment, we left Ginz alone to sort out his belongings.
“I don’t want to hear any kind of hammering in the sleeping quarters. We will get you a proper workshop soon. Head to the kitchen when you are done here.” Elincia added before closing the door behind her.
A wave of relief washed over my body. Things had gotten smoother than I expected.
“I find your emotional stability very sexy, Rosebud,” I jokingly said as we walked down the corridor.
“You are getting old, Clarke,” Elincia replied, jabbing at me with her elbow. “So, how did things go with Captain Kiln? You really took your time out there.”
“Firana gave a once-in-a-lifetime show. Captain Kiln will support us.” I said.
“I’ll ask you for the details, but I’m sure Firana is dying to tell me,” Elincia said as she reached for my hand and gently squeezed it. “Did you behave, or did you try to abduct a skeeth?”
“I tried. They were bigger than I expected,” I said, smiling.
I still needed to find a good moment to tell Elincia the details of our adventure. Between my new Class, Holst’s arrival, and the Silence Pact dissolved, I needed to stop and sort things thoroughly. Luckily, we now had Ginz to support our endeavors around the orphanage.
“Let’s go break the news about Ginz to the kids. Then I have something to show you.” I said.
“Oh, I’m going to squeeze him dry. We can’t continue maintaining this work pace, just the two of us. We need a respite.” Elincia leaned to my ear. “And maybe we will find a moment to have fun, you and me.”
* * *
“I’ll break him,” Shu said from the height of her chair, her eyes gleaming with evil intent.
“No, Shu. You will not break anyone,” Elincia replied.
“Okay, I won't,” Shu shrugged and walked to the kitchen corner where Loki was resting. The Changeling’s body was covered entirely in bright runes, so I had to squint to watch him directly.
Shu said something in Loki’s dog ear. Then, the changeling turned into a duck, and started dancing with Shu to a non-existent tune. I smiled. The tiny harpy girl was genuinely unreadable.
The kids were generally excited about Ginz’s arrival. The fact both Ilya and Zaon knew him from before he abandoned the orphanage helped the craftsman earn the acceptance of the younger orphans. Ilya’s early birthday present also helped to soften the relationship between them. Just like Elincia, Ilya hasn’t completely forgiven Ginz.
“Alright, Ginz. Your first assignment will be watching over the kids while they have dinner. Ilya will help you,” Elincia said with a mischievous smile. “Meanwhile, Rob and I will go to the grove to practice a powerful spell. I don’t want anyone nearby. I’m talking seriously.”
The kids instantly noticed the gravity of the situation, so they nodded with severe yet cute expressions. The ease with which Elincia managed the group was admirable. Ilya helped Ginz serve the meal: soup, bread, cheese, and dried fruits. Months ago, having such a variety of food on the table was unthinkable.
We left Ginz in charge of the kids. I grabbed the shotgun from my bedroom and joined Elincia at the big stump. Then we walked silently to the deepest part of the manor grounds, a small grove of tall, lush trees with white bark, now completely devoid of leaves.
“So, are we going to test Ginz’s shells?” Elincia asked as we got lost among the trees.
“I’ll teach you how to shoot. My mana pool is improving, so I won’t need the shotgun. I’ll be combat-ready in no time.” I replied.
Elincia gave me a worried smile. “I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but I will have to see that with my own eyes.”
“You just want to see me naked,” I said.
“Guilty as charged,” Elincia giggled.
We walked to the deepest part of the groove until we reached the tall, almost fortified stone wall surrounding the manor grounds. Elincia grabbed my hand and pulled me along the border for another minute until we reached a clearing. I didn’t notice the white gravestones until I almost stepped on one. They were the same color as the trees.
A small cemetery I had never noticed before.
“Hey, Dad, It’s been a while,” Elincia said as she approached the gravestone in the center.
If Mr. Lowell was buried at the manor’s grounds, he didn’t follow Byrne back to Earth in the end. The man had stayed at the orphanage to the bitter end. No wonder why Elincia had fought to keep the place going during all these years. She had inherited Lowell’s will.
Elincia cleaned a speck of moss from the gravestone and returned to my side. Despite the situation, she was smiling. “No time to waste. Let's shoot that beauty.”
Over the next hour, I taught Elincia the basics of gun safety. Hunting with a bow and arrow had a similar safety code because she picked it up quickly. We practiced until I was sure Elincia had memorized everything. It was time to do some actual shooting. Before loading the chambers with one of each kind of shell, Elincia used her detection skills to ensure we were alone at the groove.
“Do you trust Ginz’s handiwork? He tested the shells, but this is the first time he crafted an explosive,” I said.
“Ginz is talented and hardworking. Why do you think I recommended him when you first asked me for a craftsman? I trust his creations more than I trust him,” Elincia replied with a relaxed expression. “I brought a few potions with me, nonetheless.”
After seeing the effectiveness of a High-Grade Health Potion, I couldn’t be more at peace. Even if the recoil was too strong, a potion could fix a wounded shoulder in mere days. It would be painful, but ultimately, it wouldn’t leave scars.
“When you are ready,” I said, covering my ears with mana and using my hands to cover Elincia’s.
Elincia smiled, pointed at a rotten tree, and pressed the trigger. The sound of the detonation traveled through our bodies, and a cascade of wood splinters fell before us. She fired again, and we received an encore of shattering wood. Both shells worked as expected, although they produced lots of smoke, and a black residue covered the chamber. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed with good maintenance. Elincia walked up to the tree she had shot and examined the metallic pellets still encrusted in the wood.
“This is more fun than I expected,” she laughed. “I could hunt a Mountain Bison with this.”
As much as Elincia enjoyed the experience, I couldn’t laugh back.
“Eli… promise me you will not do anything reckless,” I said. I still had to break down the news about Holst returning to Farcrest, and Elincia's improved firepower worried me.
“You are the reckless one in this relationship, not me,” she rolled her eyes.
“I’m talking seriously. Listen. While we were looking at the parade with Firana, we found someone.” I said. “Holst.”
Elincia slowly nodded. What I didn’t expect was her grabbing my hands and pulling me into a deep kiss. The shotgun uncomfortably squeezed between us, and the acrid smell of explosive residue filled my nose, yet I didn’t care.
“The orphanage is thriving, the kids are growing healthy, and we have each other,” Elincia softly said. “Living a happy life is the greatest revenge we could dream of.”
I smiled and playfully rubbed Elincia’s ears, ignoring her complaints. I wondered how she would react when I told her I was a dimensional traveler. That conversation would have to wait because the sun was about to set, and hunger waited for no one. I smiled, glancing at Elincia’s deep emerald eyes. Vengeance was a dish best served warm.