When the royalty replied with reciprocated politeness and reverence, the old man urged her to drop the formal tone. "I could do without it!"

"Much esteemed Uncle—I wouldn't allow myself such impudence whilst conversing with you, who are in actual fact my benefactor… along with your dearest child, of course."

"'Grandchild,' if you please," the old man corrected. That old human was funny in his own way: When I myself asked him whether, according to the people's ways, I could be considered his child or not, he angrily rebuked me and insisted that, rather than a son, I was a grandson to him. It wasn't a son he wanted, but a grandson. Why that was, I had no idea, but as the senile old man seemed to love me so much as a grandson, I went along with his fantasies. "...But, oh ho ho! So I heard, so I heard! My grandson… your benefactor, oh? A surprise it was, let me tell you, worthy lady. A week ago, the poor boy couldn't put a word or two together straight when dealing with the checkout girl, but look at him now! A benefactor!"

Ah, well, okay. Was the old man making fun of me? Eh, that wasn't cool. It's true I struggled to talk with people without sounding like a freak, at first, but I was getting by now. Without making a comment, I glared at him so he at least kept the volume of his voice down. The old man grimaced at me and mouthed the word "sorry," before he went on.

"But believe me, my amiable benefactor, of us two, well, you are the true benefactor here." On that, I could only agree with the old man. It was true that I didn't see myself as any benefactor to the human princess yet. Fair enough, I appeared to have agreed to some rather heavy engagement to the noblewoman, so she could certainly be polite and call me her "benefactor," but I still didn't carry any of my pet soldier services under her orders yet.

And as our agreement, which I knew too little about, was a mutual exchange of riches and forces between our two parties, the noblewoman was the true benefactor here. Not only a day had passed since she promised me riches and wealth if I worked for her, and she already offered us a place to call home in the capital.

Politely laughing again, the noblewoman knew not to be too noisy. "You are being humble, esteemed Uncle. Please, do make yourself comfortable and relieve yourself of your journey's burden: you must sit."

"Too formal mannerism, and now too hearty hospitality. You know how to alleviate the burden on my old bones indeed, young benefactor. Thank you." And so they spoke.

I wanted to be the one to sit beside Cetha, but when the royalty wisely pointed out that he, her doctor, was better left to care for the elf maiden, I backed down. Finding comfort in the gorgeous noble woman's thick thighs, I sat myself next to the royalty and eventually used her laps as a pillow, as if it were the most natural thing to do.

Here, gimme the lap pillow, woman.

Somewhat thrilled but confused, the woman let me, and before long, the carriages were running.

Another reason for the old man to be seated next to Cetha was that, there, he could continue his friendly discussion with the noblewoman about this or that trivia with her face to face.

The old man had sat, and the royalty was already in her place. Agreeing with the noble lady, I shuffled on the bench and my mellow pillow lap so that I faced the sleeping Cetha. She was right. I'd rather entrust that frail, weak, and pale living thing to the old doctor. To boot, as if to make me all the more comfortable, the noblewoman then run her fingers in my dark hair; I snuggled deeper in her lap.

And my eyes were set back on the sleeping Cetha. Her fever was strong, and I was sad to realize she had gotten me fully used to her occasional moans of pain now and then as she slumbered. When the carriage took off, the pale color of her face and the thin veil of distress and sweat lying on her features tensed up at once and she moaned louder.

I grew alert to her pain and felt it for her, but before I could stand up and worry closer to the elf, the old man's palm gently caressed her hair, oh so warmly, and she instantly calmed down. Then again, breathing a sigh of relief, I thought the old man was better left to care for Cetha. Yes, I liked the old man, he was a handy tool. If calling a person a tool was inappropriate, I would say handy device.

But anyway. That was that. My little gang was headed to someplace neither the old man nor his grandson had thought of visiting anytime soon. The city, capital, and heart of the Kingdom I happened to have been born in. The country of Roerden. Drastic changes took place from one day to the other, and after only a week of aging, I could already call myself the big stuff in the game, yo.

In this luxurious carriage with this luxurious princess, I could imagine myself being an adventurer, or monster-hunter, soon enough already. "Becoming an adventurer" only sounded like a dream yesterday, but today, I couldn't wait to see. I mean, I wasn't so into the adventuring business of the adventurer people that I was so hyped about being one of theirs, but I wanted to discover all sorts of interesting quirky things about the Outside World while having fun, so naturally, the monster hunter's path seemed to be the most appropriate. Not that I knew much about life, however.

Also, I seemed to forget about it, but my main occupation, when the princess would require it, would be as the girl's secret pet soldier. Whatever, as the princess herself explained to me she wouldn't require my services so soon, I didn't think so far ahead in the future. As a result, my thoughts went mostly to adventurers… and being a schoolboy at the Academy of magic user apprentices, too.

The old uncle and I had planned to go about life in a similar way, but seriously, for things to fall into place so quickly was pretty convenient, to say the least.

Oh, and I had had the pleasure to obtain a new quest, not so long ago.

❮ "What lies behind the story…?" Main Quest — Accompanied by the Player's host, Princess Elina, let the Player head inside of the Capital and get all intimate with her. 0/1 ❯

The little story behind that quest was about the Player who, by chance, had ventured to meet with a certain third princess of a human kingdom that was at war with a certain orc tribe I was friends with. As the Player and the princess became friendly with each other, and a deal was struck between the two by the same occasion, the Player was tasked with following Elina, from whom he should obtain the next Main Quest soon.

But hey, "get all intimate with her — 0/1," eh? I know, right? Whatever does that mean, System, sir? I didn't bother asking, not that I would have gotten an answer anyway.

As of now, I was heading to the Capital anyway, accompanied by Princess Elina, of course.

And then, a long conversation unfolded. Everything I laid my hands onto was mine, and thus, my old man chatted with my noblewoman. My two humans got along very well; I was glad. The two animals together spoke, and the old human expressed his words of thanks again.

Briefly: The noblewoman was our benefactor. She had granted and permitted education to the two children. That was very nice of her. Of course, he, too, wished an education and life be granted to the two littluns in his care, but he was ashamed to admit, with an earnest sigh, that he alone could never hope to achieve that. So, when the youthful and gracious young princess was so kind as to magnanimously offer the littluns the prized education he wanted for both Cetha and me, he could never hope to thank the noblewoman sufficiently.

All of that was about the old man's speech, and he carried it on: Our situation was a bit tense back there. Going about visiting the world and trying to find a safe piece of land in which we could settle down to live, we went from battlefield to battlefield.

The story the old man recounted was an exaggeration, but I let him do his job as my advisor and guide.

For some reason, we could never settle down in someplace without it being infested by the evil of war and bandits. That was natural, with his grandchild being an (immensely cute, he said) ominous monster that everyone rejected, it was hard to find a place where to lay low at all. He didn't count how many innkeepers called the guards on us while we were "allowed" to use occasional stables to sleep with the horses.

Also, his condition as an old wrinkled fart, those were his words, didn't help either—constantly traveling with old bones proved tedious indeed. With two children to care for, the poor old man who evoked but sympathy was so overwhelmed.