After putting out the village fire, I brought Yuria with me back to the carriage.
There wasn't a shred of emotion on her face, but the way she kept a firm grip on my hand the whole time was so endearing that I nearly burst out laughing.
We were waiting near the carriage for a while when, before long, Clovis returned.
"Sir Argent, you've arrived ahead of me, I see."
"Yes. There were quite a few monsters gathered, so I dealt with them on my way here. The fire also looks to be mostly under control now."
"That's a relief to hear. But who is that girl…?"
"A child who was left alone in the ruins."
"I… see."
Clovis stared at Yuria with an intensity so blatant it would've been obvious to anyone watching.
No doubt he'd already sensed the power of Chaos Mana slumbering within her.
And yet, for all that, he was still an Archmage Lord, apparently.
Even though he was probably drooling on the inside, the way he composed his expression back to calm on the outside was almost admirable.
"Ahem. Quite a lot of wounds on her. And from the looks of it, she seems to have lost her parents…"
"She was abandoned by them long ago, apparently. As for the wounds, I'll have to heal them once we get back."
"I see. Then allow me to take charge of the child."
The nerve of this bastard.
Look at that thieving instinct kicking in right away.
Part of me wanted to plant my fist square in that face, but I held back and merely shook my head, keeping my tone gentle.
"No, that won't be necessary. I've decided to take her in myself for the time being."
"…Excuse me?"
He clearly hadn't expected this turn of events at all.
Clovis's face finally twisted into an expression worth looking at.
"As it happens, my family has an adorable ten-year-old niece. I thought I'd take this child home to give her a friend."
"A-are you certain? Taking in a child picked up off the street—into House Argent, of all places…?"
On the surface, it sounded like he was simply confirming my intentions, but there was a thinly veiled note of contempt and mockery toward Yuria woven into his tone.
Of course there was.
This man might play the part of a good-natured gentleman on the outside, but underneath, he was steeped in the typical noble-supremacist mindset.
Well, in a fantasy world where class distinctions exist, I wasn't about to call that itself a crime.
There was, without question, an unbridgeable wall between nobles and commoners in this world.
Even so, Clovis was on the extreme end of it.
It was bad enough that, in the original story, after taking Yuria in, he never so much as touched her or exchanged a word with her—except when draining her power.
If he hadn't seen some use for her as a tool, he would surely have killed her the moment he found her.
"Yes. Is there some kind of problem?"
"I wouldn't call it a problem, exactly… But wouldn't the others in your household object?"
"They won't."
I don't intend to pat myself on the back for it, but I have done my share for this family.
There's no way they could raise an objection.
And even setting aside anything I've done, they're not the sort of people who'd coldly turn a child away.
Edmund especially—soft-hearted to the point of being a pushover—would no doubt welcome Yuria with open arms.
"Besides, you may have already noticed, but it seems some portion of Chaos Mana's power has found its way into this child."
"Chaos Mana's power, you say?"
The way he widened his eyes as if hearing it for the first time honestly irritated me a little.
Just moments ago the man had been drooling over her, and now he could put on such a shameless act.
"Yes. But as you well know, Sir Haven, when a vast amount of mana settles into a body whose vessel hasn't yet been refined, side effects are bound to occur."
"In the worst case, the body could collapse entirely."
"Which is why I intend to look for a solution. Shamelessly enough, I'm also planning to ask my teacher for help."
Here, I deliberately dropped the old man's name.
Otherwise, this fellow would have flaunted his title as Archmage Lord, insisting he could offer more help, and tried to drag Yuria away by force.
But now that the illustrious name of Godwin Rowell had come up, this man could no longer throw out any more absurd proposals.
Because the only reason he'd been able to sit in the seat of Archmage Lord in the first place was that my teacher had given it up.
The continent's sole 8th-Circle Archmage.
Before that reputation, even the title of Archmage Lord shrinks small.
"…I see. If you're seeking Sir Godwin's help, then there's little use in a mere commoner like myself saying anything further."
If you know that much, then be a good boy and get back to your carriage.
And stop staring at my disciple like you want to eat her.
"Still, should you ever need any assistance, please don't hesitate to ask."
I don't need it, so just leave.
Unable to let go of his lingering hopes to the very end, he left those parting words before trudging back toward his carriage. I watched his retreating back and couldn't help a satisfied smirk.
"Baal."
"Hm?"
Yuria must have noticed it, because she gave our joined hands a little tug, as if shaking them.
When I looked down, she tilted her head and asked.
"Why are you smiling?"
"Something amusing happened."
"I see. Then I'll smile too."
Yuria took her own lips between her fingers and forcibly pulled them into the shape of a smile.
What incredible empathy.
I was struck by an empathetic ability that surpassed even the capital-F types I'd seen in my past life.
No—actually, in this case, maybe it should be considered the capital-T method of empathizing.
Sympathizing with someone else's feelings not with the heart, but with the head.
But that, too, was so very Yuria that it made me laugh.
"Well, let's be off now."
"Where are we going?"
"Home."
"I don't have a home."
"You will now. There's a friend there about your age, so I hope the two of you get along well."
"A friend?"
Yuria stared at me as if to ask, "What's that? Something you eat?"
Even so, she must have spent quite a long time in this village.
Not a single friend to rely on, all that time?
Well, then again, there was Lyriette, who despite belonging to a proper noble family, had grown up without a single friend either.
Nothing too strange about it, I supposed, nodding as we climbed into the carriage together.
And so, the carriage bearing us soon left the desolate village of Rosemill behind, hurrying on its way.
***
Despite having spoken so grandly to Yuria, it was a bit embarrassing that I couldn't head straight back to House Argent just yet—there was still business to settle first.
Even skipping the banquet, there were still a few remaining items on the schedule that needed handling.
By the time we finally returned to the Mage Association in Arcanel, the sun that had risen when we departed from Rosemill was already sinking low again.
The moment we arrived, I handed Yuria off to a servant to be bathed and changed into fresh clothes, and then went to see my teacher.
"…So you're telling me you brought that little one home?"
"Yes, Master."
My teacher glanced back and forth between me and Yuria, who was clutching my hand tightly, then rubbed his eyes as if questioning what exactly he was looking at.
"When you suddenly turned into a doting uncle, I wondered if you'd eaten something bad, but now I'm certain of it. Did you swallow some poisonous herb somewhere?"
"No. I haven't lost my mind, nor have I eaten anything wrong."
"I'll have to peel that skin off you myself and check."
"Why are you being like this? You're hurting your disciple's feelings."
At my whining, which didn't suit my usual demeanor at all, the old man clapped a hand to his forehead as if he'd just witnessed something unbearable.
Even I had to admit that last line was a bit much.
Fair enough.
"Tch. It's because it's absurd enough to warrant it, you brat. What kind of late-life fever has struck you, making such a fuss over raising children?"
"Didn't you say it yourself, Master? That to reach the 8th Circle, there are times when one must look around at the world rather than at magic alone."
"That wasn't what I meant by it! No—well, I suppose I can't say you're entirely wrong, but…!"
Unable to bear losing an argument to me, he grumbled and glared at me before shifting his gaze to Yuria.
"So then, little one. What's your name?"
"Yuria. I'm Yuria."
At Yuria's simple, straightforward statement of her name alone, the old man clicked his tongue loudly as if offended.
"Tch, what kind of upbringing lets you speak so casually to your elders. I'd like to see the faces of the parents who raised you. Tch!"
"I don't have parents. I was abandoned when I was six."
"…I meant that you've grown up fine and strong without them."
"Yeah, Yuria's strong."
To think I'd live to see the great teacher get so thoroughly outmaneuvered.
Truly, one lives and sees all sorts of things…
Whack!
"Ow!"
"You wretched brat! Why didn't you tell me you'd brought home an orphan!"
"What? But I found her in the ruins—isn't that already obvious?"
"You still should've said something! I thought at the very least she'd barely managed to survive thanks to her parents!"
Ah, I see how that misunderstanding could arise.
I suppose I had summarized the situation a bit too much.
Since all I'd said was "This is a child who survived the Rosemill village disaster. I've brought her here to take her as my disciple," this fault was, in part, mine to bear.
Well, let's call it roughly a nine-to-one split of blame.
Nine for the old man, one for me.
"Anyway, you intend to take her as your disciple?"
"Yes. From the looks of it, likely due to the influence of Chaos Mana, she carries an enormous amount of mana within her."
"Even this old man can see that much. …Have you given up on reaching the 8th Circle, then?"
"Of course not. I'll continue my own studies while teaching her, whenever I have time to spare."
Truthfully, I didn't harbor any ambition to raise Yuria into a great archmage.
If she followed my teachings well, I'd be grateful; if not, so be it.
I wanted to raise her into a fine person, more than a fine mage.
That was the entirety of my ambition.
Dress her in pretty clothes, speak kind words to her, show her fun things.
And perhaps, somewhere along the way, I might get to see this child smile.
Harboring that small hope, I looked down at Yuria—
only to find her gaze fixed entirely on the old man.
"Grandpa, what's your name?"
"Godwin Rowell. I'm the old man who happens to be the teacher of the one who brought you here."
"Baal's teacher? Then my teacher's teacher?"
The way she mixed his name and title together created a rather jarring sense of dissonance.
Should I consider this a kind of half-formal speech?
It's not particularly heartwarming, though.
"If you're going to become this brat's disciple, then yes, I suppose that's what I'll be."
"Okay, got it. Teacher-teacher."
"…Just call me Grandpa."
"Teacher-teacher-Grandpa?"
"I mean call me by a proper title, you little rascal!"
Oh, there aren't many people who can win an argument against my teacher.
Aside from Grita, whom I saw yesterday, perhaps.
"Then, Grandpa Godwin?"
"Tch, even the name grates on my ears. Just Grandpa will do."
"Okay, Grandpa."
"…Hrm, ahem."
Wait a moment. What was that smile he just hastily hid?
Calling me a doting uncle just a moment ago, and now this old man was developing a bit of a soft spot himself, in his later years?
"Enough with the introductions… Well, I trust you'll take good care of her, whatever happens. Grita's disciple must have already given the report, so go on and get some sleep."
"Yes, Master. I wish you a good night."
"Good night, Grandpa."
Yuria, still holding onto my hand, gave a little wave with her free hand, and the teacher, after staring at her for a moment, abruptly turned his back and walked away.
He must have done that to hide a smile threatening to slip out again.
Something told me that if Yuria ever held out her hand asking for pocket money, he'd grumble the whole while but still press coins into her palm.
"Baal, where are we going now?"
"Time to head to our room and get some sleep. Good children need to go to bed early, you know."
"Am I a good child?"
"Of course."
"Yeah. Yuria's a good child."
Guiding Yuria along as she diligently promoted herself, I brought her to my room.
Getting her a separate room right away seemed unlikely to work out, so for now, I decided to let her sleep in mine.
Above all, I was worried that Clovis—that madman—might try something reckless if given the chance.
'Ah, right, I need to contact Lyriette first.'
Feeling tired myself, I was about to lie down and try to sleep when I suddenly recalled the promise I'd made with Lyriette before leaving the estate.
I'd told her I expected to be away for about a week.
She'd asked me to contact her at least once every two or three days.
Knowing Lyriette's personality, I was certain she'd wanted to ask me to contact her every single day, but had held back.
She probably didn't want to burden me while I was busy with official duties.
Still, wanting to hear my voice at least once, she must have settled on that compromise.
In any case, what a thoughtful, adorable child.
Flash.
I set the ring I'd been wearing down on the table and channeled mana into it.
A faint light bloomed, forming a holographic, three-dimensional image.
It soon began to take on a familiar shape.
It was Lyriette's face.
"…Uncle? Is that you, Uncle?"
She'd apparently been just about to go to sleep herself, appearing in her pajamas and asking several times over whether it was really me.
"Sorry to keep you waiting so long, Lyriette. Can you hear me clearly?"
"Yes, yes…! I can hear and see you perfectly! I was starting to feel sad, wondering if you'd forgotten our promise."
"As if I would."
How could I ever forget a promise with my dear niece?
At my confident smile, Lyriette broke into a bright grin.
"How's your official work going? You must be terribly busy, aren't you?"
"Something urgent came up, so I've been a bit busier than expected. If not for that, I would've contacted you both yesterday and today."
"Something urgent? Was there some kind of serious problem?"
"It's fine. I just finished resolving it today."
Calling it "resolved" was a bit of a stretch, but I exaggerated slightly on purpose to put Lyriette's mind at ease.
"Well, of course. There's no problem in the world you couldn't solve once you stepped in, Uncle."
"Ha ha, now you're flattering me too much. Still, thank you."
I thought perhaps, after so long apart, uncle and niece might finally settle into a peaceful conversation, when—
"Mmm… Baal, aren't you asleep yet? Let's sleep together."
Had she woken up because of the sound of our voices?
Or had she simply failed to fall asleep in the first place?
Yuria came shuffling over from behind, rubbing her eyes.
Somehow she looked like a child frightened at finding the parents she'd been sleeping beside had vanished in the dead of night.
"U-Uncle? W-was that just now a girl's voice…?"
"Hm? …Ah."
I was about to tell Yuria to go back to sleep first, when this time, a voice came from the other direction as well.
Ah, right.
This ring has a weaker signal than a crystal orb, so the person or background around isn't visible—only the voice carries through.
Should I explain now?
But if at all possible, I'd rather keep it a secret.
'I want to surprise her, after all.'
Since this child would become Lyriette's very first friend, I wanted to keep it hidden as long as possible and reveal her with a proper flourish, as a surprise.
"Ah, sorry about that, Lyriette. I went a bit far out today, and I'm quite tired, so I think I'll turn in early tonight."
"Wh-what!?"
"I'll come back as soon as I possibly can, so please wait just a little longer, alright?"
"W-wait just a moment! Uncle…!"
Click.
"Tch."
Cutting off contact with our lovely niece so unilaterally left an ache in my heart.
But there was no helping it.
This, too, was all for a greater cause.
After all, sometimes close friends plan hidden-camera-style surprises on someone's actual birthday, to make the shock all the more dramatic.
Just until the day we return to the main estate.
I only needed to keep it hidden until then.
This meant I probably couldn't contact her again for a while.
She'd surely be burning with curiosity, pestering me with endless questions otherwise.
'How happy will she be, I wonder.'
Just imagining Lyriette's reaction when I brought Yuria home and introduced her, saying, "This is the child who's going to be your friend from now on," filled me with a bubbling sense of joy.
I want to get back as soon as possible.
Perhaps I ought to move up the schedule a little.
"Baal?"
"Ah, sorry. Let's hurry and get to sleep."
At Yuria's insistent voice, I rose and led her to bed, singing her a lullaby until she drifted off to sleep—only then did I finally close my own eyes as well.