Lena:

Lena looked at two small children standing quietly and still before her, each wearing a slave collar.

Lena didn't like children.

And now, she had been ordered to look after these two. By her husband's brother, the prime minister of Crysteth.

She had no particular skills, nothing noteworthy regarding abilities, and no job or money.

All she had was the aftermath of a failed marriage.

And the memory of her husband's parting words:

"You were a hopeless wife. And hopeless in bed. That barmaid is heaps better than you."

And now she had to look after two ex-slave children and move to a completely different country to do so.

I'm not worth much, am I?

I suppose I had better start.

"Hello, my name is Lena, and I'm looking after you from now on. May I have your names?"

Holding hands, the boy and the girl looked up at her but said nothing.

What now?

She knelt and held their outside hands in hers.

"Hi, what's your name?" she asked the boy.

"Mason."

"And yours?"

"Becky."

What now?

"It's about time for the evening meal. Would you like to help me?"

They stood there, blank looks on their faces, and didn't react.

OK, maybe they don't know how. Or something.

"Well, if we can all sit down and eat tea?"

She managed to get them to sit on two chairs, next to each other, of course.

The meal had been supplied: a thick soup. All that Lena needed to do was reheat it and spoon it into the three bowls.

Unfortunately: "Oh dear, there's no serving spoon. Wouldn't it be nice to have a summoned spoon? It's not as if I'd ever get something exciting like a sword."

The orphans sat on their chairs and did not react in the slightest.

That pathetic joke went down faster than a drowning sailor taken by a starving kraken.

"Anyway, I'll use a small spoon."

She ladled out three bowls and put them in front of each child and herself.

The orphans carefully ate their meal while looking around the whole time as if fearful that someone would pinch their food. Of course, there was no dinner table conversation.

I really don't like kids.

But Nimbus doesn't care, either. He's doing the minimum to remove his brother's embarrassing ex-wife. And deal with the slaves at the same time.

They finished the meal. They were in temporary accommodation before moving to Manifestoria - a tiny chalet with a single large room for everything, plus a small toilet block. Lena was forced to lay their sleeping mats side by side on the floor.

This sucks. Now, what did we do as kids before bedtime... That's right, we had a bath. And we changed into pyjamas.

Actually, we only had a bath once a week. But, frankly, these kids stink.

Clothing had been provided, so at least that was one problem solved.

"OK, now you need to have a bath..."

Lena remembered there wasn't a bathtub available. It's more like a bucket and a wood stove to heat water.

"Well, a stand-up and wipe yourself down with a wet cloth bath."

They stood there and looked at her. Still not giving her any positive emotional reactions.

"Come on, the water is hot; I'll wipe down your backs, just remove your clothes. Please?"

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

There was a slight amount of fidgeting from the kids but nothing else.

Sigh.

"Here, Becky, if you can lift your arms, that's right, and I'll take off your tunic-"

It's filthy. I'm sure my clothes were never this bad.

"OK, turn around, I'll wipe your back and... Gulp."

Red weals were crisscrossing her back - half a dozen or so. Lena froze.

Oh, crap. Oh crap. I was forgetting, I blanked it out, they were slaves. They must have been physically abused and mistreated.

She dropped the wet towel she had been holding, stepped back and sat down heavily in front of them.

I can't do this. I can't. How can I look after such terribly damaged children? What can I possibly do?

This is even worse than the breakup of my marriage. At least my ex-husband never abused me.

Amazing, I'm thinking something positive about him.

Nonetheless, nonetheless...

She sat there for ten minutes or so. The two children waited stoically. She realised that she was in a hopeless situation. She had no support group and no family to fall back on. No job to go to. Nimbus couldn't care less about any of their fates, just as long as nobody abducted the slaves.

And she was due to be shipped to some Voice-forsaken little town in a tiny country, whose only claim to fame was it was so isolated that no one, either Crysteth or the Slavers, could be bothered claiming it, at least for the time being.

She looked into the almost dead eyes of two eight-year-old children.

"Well, kids, it looks like you got nothing but me. And I've got no one at all. That's tough shit for me, but you deserve better."

Desperate measures. The only thing I have left is to make a vow to the Voice of the World. If it's strong enough, I'll get some sort of help from the Voice.

Sure she would. Vows could be like that. The higher the strength, the more the Voice would 'help' the person. What sort of help, however, could never be predicted.

Sometimes, such help was not all that pleasant.

Voice of the World: I make this vow: I will help these kids to the best of my ability.

Ding! Accepted.

I thought there would be a more extensive notification. Never mind.

The two children slightly jumped when she made her vow. Then, their eyes focused on Lena's face for the first time since she had met them. But nothing much else happened.

It was still difficult, and not very satisfying, to get them washed and changed into their pyjamas and into their beds. But there was a definite improvement.

Lena doused the candles lighting up the room and snuggled into her bedding.

Well, at least they're acknowledging my presence.

Was that better? I suppose so.

Ding! Your vow to look after the inactive child slaves Mason and Becky to the best of your ability for as long as they need it was accepted at 100% strength.

The following have been notified:

Mason and Becky.

Inactive slaves Esther and Evereena.

Manifestorian guard Aragon.

The Misfits.

All the other members of the Manifestorian guard.

Eleanor (The Manifestorian King's daughter).

The treasurer (of Manifestoria).

Nimbus ( the prime minister of Crysteth).

Kelper (The gold collar current Slaver emperor).

She almost jumped out of her bedding with a strangled yelp, then anxiously looked at the kids. They were still sleeping.

What the hell is that?

100% strength?

And who are all of those other people?

And, oh shit, the Slaver emperor?

What bullshit is this!

But the Voice of the World didn't bother answering.

Kelper:

This time, he managed not to drop his pen. As before, his notification did not include a list of all of the other recipients and did not include the name Manifestoria.

Another 100% vow? Who is this Lena? And why is it so crucial that some unknown vermin is making some stupid promise to look after two ferals?

What bullshit is this?

Nonetheless, he drafted more orders to capture this Lena vermin and her two ferals.

Nimbus:

This is more weird bullshit. Now we have Lena making a 100% vow. I would have never thought she had it in her to do anything like that.

And the Slaver emperor was notified.

Better get Lena and Co out of Crysteth as soon as possible.

The Misfits:

"Hey, anybody, do you know who this Lena person is?" said Bronsen.

They were all having their evening meal, so everyone was present. And nobody had any idea about what the message meant.

"Betcha, it's just more bullshit from System-san," said Cassy.

"Yeah. And what is it with all of these high-strength vows?" said Aragon.

Narrator:

Actually, that was a good question. What was with all these high-strength vows being broadcast to lots of people? Generally speaking, vows did not typically work like that.

Remember, System-chan might have its own motivations and goals. But, it was rigidly constrained by its programming. Only when the conditions were right to create some heroes was it allowed some agency, allowed to start acting on its own desires, to bring about the goals it wanted.

The Misfits provided a perfect opportunity. They were ideal hero material. And they were so easy to influence and guide subtly in the desired direction. However, System-san had to give something equivalent back to them, which they received in abundance. Sky-high abilities, and lots of them. They wanted and expected interaction from System-san, so they received it. The Misfits got more communication from System-san in a week than the average Felixian got in their entire lifetime.

And, of course, the rules the Misfits made up for themselves. They might have been a joke, but System-san took them very seriously. After all, what better gift to give back to the Misfits than to allow them to have their perfect, four-way, eternally balanced relationship?

There was just one tiny little problem with all of this. Rule number 2: 'It's all bullshit.'

System-san religiously followed that rule, also. Of course, with a certain amount of bias to System-san's advantage.

There was a lot of bullshit, high-level bullshit, in System-san's actions.

It also carried over to System-san's interaction with people who were not Misfits but somehow connected.

Whether they liked it or not.

So, for example, their vows weren't just your standard Voice of the World vows. Nope, they had to be over-the-top 100% strength vows, broadcast to everybody that might be relevant.

It was carefully calculated to the nth degree to generate the desired outcome.

It was all a lot of bullshit.