Zerava regarded the amazingly ignorant [Hero] of Kirkwall and just about banged her head on her desk in frustration. That someone could be so clueless was almost criminal. That such a person could make Crystal Cores should be criminal!!

“Crystal Cores have two major roles in society,” she said, hoping to distract herself from her frustrations by sharing a bit of history.

“The primary one, that people have known about for centuries, is absorbing them to help level up. You can use them to gain enough experience to gain levels, to level up your Skills, and to even improve your Attributes, though that is much harder to do,” she said, watching every movement of his face as well as his body language to see if any of this was new to him.

Unfortunately, the man was so stone-faced that he was almost impossible to read. So stone-faced, even, that she thought he was angry most of the time, making her firm her resolve to speak more.

“The second use, and more important in my opinion, is that they’re used to create magic items. They power just about everything from stoves to protective arrays to weapons of war. As such, they’re incredibly expensive, and any kingdom or country that can gain a steady supply of Crystal Cores would be in a position to start invading and conquering their neighbours.

“Not only that, but if the Guardian Kingdoms were to gain a steady supply of Crystal Cores, then they would push the war with the demon continent and probably invade them,” she said, fixing Joram with a hard stare that she hoped would convey how serious things were.

Instead of looking shocked, panicked, or anything suitable, he leaned back and frowned slightly. She said “slightly”, but for reasons she couldn’t quite explain, she felt more than a little bit nervous seeing that frown. Not only that, but his eyes squinted slightly as he watched her, making her heart jump in her chest.

She couldn’t quite say why she felt like that, but she did know that the sweat running down her back- and starting to bead on her chest- told her that she was in trouble, one way or another. Just as she was about to touch the emergency panel under her desk, Joram let out a long breath that softened his features considerably, nearly making her slump in relief.

“That wouldn’t be good,” he said, shaking his head marginally. “I’m not a proponent for war, nor do I like the idea of military conquest just because someone can take something from someone else,” he said, frowning again briefly before it vanished from his face once again.

“So, your advice would be to not sell these, then?” he asked, motioning to the strange Crystal Cores on her desk.

“Yes,” she said, stopping there because she didn’t quite trust her voice yet.

“Then, thank you for your guidance,” Joram said, dipping his head slightly as he spoke. “Well then, if we could get those tags for the gals, that would be great. Also, I appreciate your candor,” he said, giving her that ridiculously dazzling smile again as he stood up and retrieved the Crystal Cores from her desk.

“You’re welcome,” she said as she, too, stood up, quickly wiping her palms on her thighs to dry them. “Please, see me any time you have any other questions. Or if you need any other assistance,” she finished, holding out her hand.

Joram grinned at her, then enveloped her hand in his warm hand.

“I will, thank you,” he said, then turned to leave. He even touched the plate for the privacy ward and disarming it before leaving.

She sat down once more, no longer able to support her weight on her shaky legs, thinking.

Zerava now truly knew why Celys was so taken with Joram. Not in that way, but with… him. She was absolutely certain that she’d never met someone with the same presence as Joram, let alone anyone who felt so… formidable.

She couldn’t believe that he was a Level 17 [Crafter], whatever her [Identify] Skill told her. Even the [Great Knight]s she’d met when she’d travelled to Myrmeze, the capitol of the kingdom on bank business, hadn’t had an aura like Joram’s.

Zerava shook her head abruptly then got up and made her way to the storage room to dig out the slave tags. If there was one thing she was certain about, Joram deserved the Title of [Hero], whether or not he actually had it. He was just too… his presence was just too strong to be anything else.

* * *

Feeling unsettled by Zerava’s words of caution even though he’d suspected that Crystal Cores were more important than he’d thought, he made his way back to the front of the bank to where the gals were waiting for him… and a new skulk of foxes, it seemed.

“I’m not sure how long it’ll take to get the tags, so how about we take a walk?” he said when he got to them.

They just nodded as though they were demure and meek young women, throwing him off a bit before he nodded back at them and led the way out.

Once outside, he decided to head back to the caravan to have another look around. Instead of riding the… rickshaw- that’s what it was called!- he chose to walk with the gals. It was a nice day outside, and he kind of wanted to walk.

He was glad that the hero-worship had died down over the past couple of months, which meant that they were only stopped every few minutes instead of every other step. Still, they made good time and soon they were approaching the caravan. That’s when he noticed that they’d started following him instead of walking beside him.

“What’s up?” he stopped and asked, giving them a questioning look.

“What you do you mean, young master?” Fyrellia once more replied for the group, looking a bit confused.

“Why’re you walking behind me now?”

“It is only proper, young master.”

“…”

They began fidgeting under his scrutiny before he decided to let it go for now.

“Well, fine. Just don’t let anyone bother you, OK?” he said, looking at each of them in turn before turning away when they finally nodded at him.

Looking at the prices, they seemed to have stayed the same, which made him glad as he went through the stalls. He’d been a bit scared that the merchants would increase their prices to help offset the added cost of camping at his place. That they hadn’t reassured him a bit, and even raised his opinion of them a bit.

When he arrived at the bookseller, he saw that he was still well-stocked. He smiled, then began looking through the selection as the merchant smiled at him in greeting.

As he browsed the books, the kept an eye on their surroundings, curious to see what everyone’s reactions would be to see the “demons” walking around with him. Let alone their unusual attire.

He hadn’t gotten fancy with what he’d made them, even with Ilyana’s help. He’d effectively made them all jeans and t-shirts, very similar in design to what he normally wore. And with their new Converse-style sneakers, they were indeed drawing eyes. Though, he wasn’t sure if it was because of who they were or because of their clothing. Likely both.

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Looking at the collection of books, his inner bibliophile screamed at him to buy all the books! The weight of his wallet told him not to, though. But it was still hard to resist the allure of so many books, and hand-bound books at that!

Then he shrugged and just went with it. He quickly calculated how much everything would cost, then turned to the merchant.

“How much more stock do you have in the back?” he asked, nodding towards his rather sturdy wagon.

“I have about that many more yet,” the merchant replied, looking more interested in the conversation.

“Are there many doubles?”

“A few, mostly of the popular volumes. The ‘Dragon Subjugation’ series is very popular, so I have many more of those than the others,” he explained as he pointed to one of the shelves that contained a row of similarly bound books that he already passed over.

“Well, I’d like to buy all the books here,” he said, waving casually at the display and his wagon. “Well, everything except the doubles, that is.”

“Excuse me?” the merchant asked, blinking at him.

“I’d like to buy the books, please,” he said, giving the man a third-rate smile, wondering if the man had gone dumb.

“That’ll be quite expensive, young master,” the merchant said, now looking as though he finally believed Joram.

“More expensive than her?” he asked, frowning, as he pointed at Fyrellia because she was the closest to him.

“Ah, well, I guess not,” the merchant said, looking rueful. “Still, I’ll have to do a quick count of everything to give you a proper quote.”

“That’s fine. You can just let me know tonight after you get back,” he said with a shrug. “I’ll see you later,” he said, then headed off with the gals following closely behind him.

He didn’t find anything else that interested him, nor did it seem as though the gals had either. He’d been watching them, and those around them, to be sure they were both safe and content. He was glad that his paranoia was proven false, as no one seemed to really care about the three of them beyond a few lustful gazes. Which made him glad that he’d given them all proper clothing to wear.

After about an hour of wandering around, he headed back to the bank to get the tags. Once there, it only took another fifteen minutes or so to get them “attuned” to the gals and the permissions set up. They were kind of neat, looking like dog tags that American soldiers used to wear. They even came with their own little clip that could easily detach from the main part of the slave collar.

He also found out that they couldn’t have a carte-blanche when it came to his account. They each had a limit of a gold coin per day, which was actually a lot, all things considered. That said, they could deposit any amount of money on his behalf, so there was that.

After thanking Zerava again, he loaded them all up into the rickshaw and headed back home.

“Joram!” Shae’ra called out once he parked the rickshaw and helped the gals out, much to their embarrassment if he was reading it right.

“What’s up?” he asked as he watched her hurry over with the little dwarf girl following in her wake.

“Thank you for setting up the new greenhouse,” Shae’ra said, bowing to him when she got to him. “Ella, here, would also like to thank you,” she said, then gently pulled Ella forward as she still tried to hide behind the elf.

“T-t-thank, you,” she practically whispered when Shae’ra finally just dodged behind her instead.

“You’re welcome, Ella,” he said with a smile at the surprisingly slight dwarven girl.

In fact, he would have mistaken her for a human if not for her height, ears, super-thick hair, and ridiculous chest. She was about 1.4m tall, though proportioned like an adult human, throwing off his preconceived notions of dwarves quite thoroughly.

Her super-thick hair was such a dark brown that it would likely be mistaken for black in anything but direct sunlight, while her eyes were jet black. Her skin, though, was olive-toned, making her resemble a middle-easterner back on Earth. Possibly a Mediterranean gal. He had always been terrible at guessing where people were from based on their skin tones.

“Anyways, I hope that you’ll have fun with the place. Let Shae’ra know if you need any other ingredients, OK?” he said with a gentle smile, hoping that she’d soon get more comfortable with her new home.

“Y-yes,” Ella said, finally looking him in they eye when she spoke.

“Good!” he said cheerily, then turned to the three gals. “As for you three. Feel free to do whatever entertains you… so long as it doesn’t bother anyone else, I guess,” he said, adding that last caveat because he really didn’t know them.

They nodded at him before slowly heading off towards the mess hall, their hands flashing some sort of sign language as they went.

“Anything else I can help with?” he asked as he turned back to the waiting Shae’ra.

“Well, I was hoping that you could help by letting us know more about the plants in the greenhouse,” she said, looking both embarrassed at the admission and enthusiastic to learn.

“Sure, let’s go,” he said, then led the way to the first greenhouse.

It took him another hour to go through everything with her, as well as the other green thumbs there. It took another hour to answer their myriad questions, from germination all the way to daily care of the plants to how best to prepare them for consumption.

It was… nice. He finished by promising to schedule another sit-down with them after breakfast tomorrow morning. And a cooking class after that. Then he was practically carried off by the cowkin twins.

Once at the dairy, they bombarded him with questions about how everything worked. It got a bit awkward, especially with Avi laughing her ass off to the side, when they needed him to demonstrate how to best use the breast pumps. He’d been wrong in assuming that they might have developed something like that themselves. No, they’d all just manually massaged their breasts to get the milk out since time immemorial.

Once they knew how to use the breast pumps, their tops practically flew off as they each- both the cowkin and sheepkin- grabbed a pump for each breast and sat back with disturbingly happy smiles on their faces.

He beat a hasty retreat at that point, not wanting to have those images bouncing around his head along with those of Myra and Asami. And the three gals as they cuddled together in bed….

Damn, this is going to get so much harder, isn’t it? He silently commiserated his fate. Well, he’d done it to himself, so he only had himself to blame.

‘If you want to distract yourself, why don’t you play with your dungeon?’ Avi suggested, now as composed as he’d ever seen her.

‘Yeah, I might just do that,’ he sent back then made his way to his office before opening his Dungeon tab.

* * *

“OK, so, what the hell is he?” Arise asked as she took another look around to make sure that no one was close enough to overhear them.

“I’m starting to think that he’s a demon in disguise,” Fyrellia said, humming to herself in thought.

“That’s obviously not the case,” Qyress said with a light shake of her head. “Maybe he’s a dragon in disguise,” she posited with a shrug.

“How does that make more sense than a disguised demon?” Fyrellia asked, annoyed that her suggestion had been shot down so quickly.

“For one, he’d have already ravished each and every one of us,” Qyress started, but was cut off.

“And a dragon wouldn’t?” Fyrellia asked incredulously.

“That is a good point,” Arise said, nodding. “Are we just overthinking things?” she asked, looking at them again as she spoke.

“Probably,” Qyress said with another shrug. “Does it really matter? For as well-trained as we are, none of us can so much as catch a whiff of deception. In fact, would a demon or a dragon give us access to his bank account?”

“Oooh, one gold coin per day,” Fyrellia drawled, rolling her eyes.

“And…?”

“True,” Fyrellia said, conceding the point. “Neither would be likely to let anyone have any of their treasure, let alone giving away so many electrum rings.”

“So, is he just an incredibly powerful and naïve young man?” Arise asked, boiling it all down to just that for them.

“Probably,” both Fyrellia and Qyress said at the same time.

“So, do we take advantage of that? If so, then how?” Arise asked even though she obviously had a few thoughts on that.

“Well, I for one won’t plot against him,” Qyress said, shaking her head. “I’d rather wait to see what’ll happen next.”

“Me too,” Fyrellia said, pausing a moment to think before speaking again. “That said, I wouldn’t mind if he wanted to ravish me.”

“Oh, shut up,” Arise said, annoyed with the succubus. “Fine. We’ll just hang around and see what happens then.”

Qyress smiled, glad that they were starting to see reason.

“So, what do we do now?” she asked, looking at the other two. “Does anyone have any hobbies they’d like to pursue?”

“I wouldn’t mind joining Ella in the brewery,” Fyrellia piped up.

“I’ll… see what else there is to do,” Arise said, shrugging. “What about you?”

“Well, since the young master hasn’t restricted our movements, then I think I’ll take wing and have a look around the western forest for a bit,” she said thoughtfully.

“Why?”

“Who doesn’t like flying?”

“Point,” Fyrellia said, nodding as Arise gave them both a withering look.

“Fine. Just be back in time for dinner,” Arise said, giving up on glaring. “Maybe I’ll take a look at that contraption he paraded us around in.”

“Have fun,” Qyress said, then got up and headed outside to stretch her wings. It had been much too long since she’d been able to exercise them. Then, with a swift down-thrust of her wings, she shot into the air, exulting in the wind in her hair.

She didn’t like going unarmed, but at least it was something.

Then she forgot her worries for a time as she let herself go to the joys of flying again.