7 - Martelli with Two L’s

Octavia took off, following the other woman. For the nth time this morning, Valrion thought he could finally have some privacy to thoroughly explore his elemental power, but once again, Octavia dashed back to him and disrupted his plans.

“I’m sorry! I forgot you!” she shouted, removing the knotted cloth from his mouth before scooping him into her arms. She supported him upright, close to her chest, and walked hastily outside the room.

He was confused as to why she had brought him along, but once his irritation faded, he remembered that human babies required constant supervision. They would sleep, wake, cry, move around, and sometimes do something dangerous, like accidentally suffocate, all at random times. With his mouth stuffed, it was no wonder Octavia became flustered.

It was ridiculous that Octavia was so excited she forgot about him, but he had witnessed similar cases. Humans would attend fairs or other public events with their families, become so engrossed in themselves since it had been a while since they had fun, and only remember their children after almost reaching home. Though it only happened a handful of times, every single story always made him chuckle.

Parents in Heaven might have done that by accident once or twice over their thousands of years of existence, but the difference was that Heaven was safe. Even in the most secluded corners that hadn’t been visited in centuries, the King and his guards would be alerted the moment something was amiss—as if the rivers and hills themselves had eyes.

The hallway outside the room was narrow—only about three adults could fit side by side. Several paintings of gardens and hills in various sizes adorned the walls, masking the absence of tables, potted plants, or other typical decorations people would find in houses. In the olden days, some of these artworks would feature eidolons, but he couldn’t find any in this collection.

Upon initial inspection, at least five other rooms existed on the floor, though none should match the size of the master bedroom where he was staying. The house’s overall dimensions seemed larger than they appeared, and the placement of the windows allowed ample light to flood the space.

A few steps ahead was the staircase to the ground floor. Carefully, Octavia descended, her free hand resting behind Valrion’s neck to steady him. The hall down here was at least twice as wide as the one upstairs, with a long table beneath the stairs laden with stacks of paper and two unlit lanterns in one corner.

Unlike the dullness and lack of activity in the rooms above, he could perceive numerous things around him now—the crackling of food cooking from somewhere in the back of the house, the dominant scent of cinnamon wafting through the air, and most interestingly, the aggressive chattering of people in the front part of the house. When he focused harder, he could make out his mother’s voice, accompanied by at least two men.

Considering that Octavia was called for what sounded like a quarrel between a guy who wanted to kick another one out, he had expected her to bring him there—to the source of the noise. They walked down the hallway and passed by several closed doors on either side before arriving at what must be the common room of the house.

His mother sat alone on a long couch, her back to the hallway. He saw her frown clearly when she glanced over her shoulder at him and Octavia. Behind her stood a woman of similar age, her expression showing the same anxiety. Like Octavia, she wore an apron around her waist, but her inner gown was dark blue.

A dormant white fireplace made of what appeared to be limestone loomed on the wall beside them. Above it hung a tapestry with a pale yellow background, resembling the warmth of daylight. The design depicted a blacksmith at work—his powerful arms raising a hammer to strike a glowing piece of metal on an anvil as heat rose from the forge in the background. At the bottom of the tapestry, the word “Martelli” was etched in bold, rustic black lettering.

It was such an Eruvian thing to deliberately display intricate custom-made tapestries in visible places for visitors to admire, often adding their household names to boost their pride. Most likely, Martelli was his family’s surname, though he didn’t dwell on this as his eyes settled on the two men standing behind an identical couch across from his mother.

One was a slightly hunched elderly man dressed in all black with strands of gray and white in his hair. Beside him was a tall young man in his twenties with tanned skin and black hair. The most noticeable difference between them was the sword fastened to the young man’s right hip and the piece of paper he held. Valrion’s best guess was that this guy was the house guard.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

He glanced around, searching for his father, but given the family dynamic he had observed, chances were his father was currently at work. There didn’t appear to be another kid his age either, so he could be an only child.

All the constant assuming and wondering were tiring at times, but what other choice did he have? The Handbook itself advised him to learn about his surroundings.

“You must be kidding.” The young man lifted his gaze from the paper and glared at the old man, whose determined expression seemed forceful given his smaller stature. “You’re not? Are you actually being serious?”

“Why would I lie?” the old man insisted. His tone didn’t imply any hidden meaning. “Doesn’t every weapon bought from the Martelli Workshop come with a certificate of authenticity?”

The young man snickered while shaking his head. “Old man, old man. If I were you, I would have admitted my bluff and given up already.”

“What is it, Sergius?” Valrion’s mother asked.

Sergius drew out the rest of his laughter as he stared at the paper, then walked over and handed it to Valrion’s mother. “Look at how the name on the stamp is spelled.”

The tension in her face faltered after reading the paper. Chuckling, she muttered, “I see.”

Sergius took the paper and gave it to the maid behind the woman. “Read it, Fina.”

The maid grabbed the paper. It required her a bit longer to read before she laughed a tad louder than Valrion’s mother as if intentionally mocking the man. There could be more than two maids working for this house, but from her voice, Valrion was certain she was the one notifying Octavia.

“Yeah? What do you see?” Sergius asked.

“It wasn’t noticeable at first, but you could see it’s missing another ‘l’,” Fina stated.

“Oh, really? We might be wrong, though.” Sergius shot a glare at the man, whose gaze had already dropped to the ground. He moved toward Octavia, but instead of giving away the paper, he held it in front of her face. It was considerate of him, considering both Octavia’s hands were occupied with carrying a baby.

Repressing her laughter, Octavia said, “Yeah, it’s missing another ‘l’.”

“Is that so? Hmm, how strange. I noticed it, the lady of the house noticed it, the two maids noticed it—” Sergius swung the paper to the side, holding it in front of Valrion. “—I’m sure even a baby would notice it as well.”

It was only about five seconds of reading time, but Valrion managed to get the necessary information: a certificate of authentication, stamped with a bright red hammer and avail symbol and “Marteli Workshop” added underneath. Comparing it to the name on the tapestry above the fireplace, Sergius wasn’t wrong. Even the most gullible person in Eru would see how it needed another “l”.

The workshop was located in Savio, under the Kingdom of Luxellum—a kingdom he had never heard about before, but this shouldn’t be surprising considering a millennium had passed. This sword was considered A-grade and cost 2,400 nota, which seemed to be the kingdom’s currency. The old Eru he knew didn’t have its own currency and primarily used gold, silver, and copper coins for transactions.

Once again, it was another new thing for him to memorize.

[Main Quest updated: A New Era]

[EXP +20]

The thrill he felt upon seeing EXP was indescribable. Any progress, particularly regarding the main quests, was exactly what he had been hoping for. He wasn’t sure what was going on in the room, but he paid no attention to Sergius, who had returned to scold the elderly man. Checking the Handbook was his priority.

[Level: 1]

[EXP: 20/105]

[Health: 261/276]

[Mana: 23/23]

[A New Era

➤ It turns out you’re born into a middle-class family that owns the Martelli Workshop. You live in Savio, a town in the Kingdom of Luxellum, but all of this is just surface-level information. There’s much more to this family that you can discover.]

The quest’s description was just a summary of what had happened so far, but it didn’t deter him. No matter how he looked at it, he had accomplished something. EXP must really be “experience”, and he would earn more points by, to put it simply, living his life to the fullest.

He should learn to worry less. Although the question of who was behind the Handbook would always linger in the back of his mind until it was answered, the image had done nothing but guide him so far.

“What’s funny? Is it Sergius’s face?” Octavia whispered. If not for this, he wouldn’t have realized that the EXP increase had caused him to giggle.

“Stop that.” Sergius’s voice was more stern than before, prompting Valrion to watch the heated exchange before him again. “That woe-is-me look won’t work on anyone in this house. I don’t care if you’re so old that you’re just a step away from your deathbed. You aren’t getting a single coin from us. Please leave and never show your face again. Do it when I’m still polite, Sir.”

The elderly man cast an irritated look at Valrion’s mother and tried to snatch the paper from Sergius’s hand, but Sergius quickly pulled it up and hid it behind his back. If the difference in their ages weren’t so obvious from their outward appearances, it would look like Sergius was poking fun at a child.

“What now?” the elderly man grumbled, his face contorted in a scowl as he glared at Sergius.