Part 2 – Episode 4
Creak-
When I unlocked the door, a whirlwind of gray dust swirled out from the gap.
Despite it being broad daylight, the interior of the house was so dim that it required turning on the lights. Creak, creak. With every step, a noise rose from the floor.
The furniture was mostly old, but everything one would need was there and inside the kitchen cabinet were tableware for two. In the wardrobe hung men’s clothes that looked like they had been worn a few times.
Although it was an old space, it felt like it was lived in not long ago.
Tweet-
After brushing dust off the table and placing Ru (the baby hawk) on, I looked back at Rue (the demi-god).
“You’re not joking, are you?”
The golden eyes that had quietly followed me as I searched through the house glistened playfully.
“Are you asking if it’s a joke that this house is mine?”
So it wasn’t a joke after all.
‘What about my warm fish stew with plenty of pepper in it?’
A tycoon, a noble, royalty. It seemed like I had been caught up in a delusion for a week.
Did the great Caleba want to experience being a commoner for once in the Banahel kingdom?
Well, fine. In that case, let’s…
“Clean up.”
Tweet-
“Let’s just feed Ru (the baby hawk) first.”
I took off my outer coat and rolled up my sleeves.
You must always start a major cleaning session with humility. First of all, take out your sword from the scabbard at your waist and hold it.
“Whoosh.”
A slow, deep breath. And concentration.
I imagined.
This place was an enemy camp where over ten fierce devils had gathered, and I had to cut down these devils with a single stroke to go and save Rue who was in danger.
‘Cut!’
With energy!
The shape of the sword flying towards Rue in a straight line of the ‘One Brush, One Stroke’ belonged to the technique known as…
The Devil Sword Technique.
The First Sword Art.
The Devil’s Drying method.
Swoosh.
Rue’s clothes, which had been dampened by melting snow, instantly became fluffy.
Clap, clap, clap! Loud applause poured out from the midst of the white steam.
“It’s always astonishing to watch. I’m sure the head maid will be deeply touched by your daily improving housekeeping skills..”
After bowing my head in response to the generous praise, I began the actual cleaning.
My attitude was initially light-hearted, but after starting, I thought, ‘This cleaning won’t be easy.’
Unlike the Weatherwoods mansion, which was spacious but had been consistently maintained, this house was terribly old.
And it seemed to have been untouched for at least five years. Judging by the layers of dust that appeared even after sweeping, it might have been over ten years…
But who was I?
I was the Weatherwoods strongest maid.
Or well, I was, once. Now I was Daisy, Viscount Weatherwoods, Count Vladiev, and also the god of the Southern Continent, also the creator of the Demon Sword Technique. Sometimes called Ash.
My greatest weapons were my stamina, strength, and Rue.
Thanks to these, I could scrub off the stubborn stains from the worn-out windows or the cracks under the dining table that wouldn’t come off easily.
Since there was nothing more unrealistic than trying to finish a major clean-up in one morning, I cleaned the parts that were noticeable to me to a presentable level for now.
‘Tomorrow, I’ll go into more detail, starting from the top… I’d better clean the window frames and windows carefully, and it would be good to refine the wardrobe and dining chairs and oil them a bit.’
The sun set while I planned a three-day clean up.
This house had a total of four windows, three of which faced the neighboring house at a distance of a finger’s width, and the only window through which sunlight came in was located on the west side of the bedroom.
The color of the setting sun was quite elegant, even if the rays were so thin they barely covered the top of my foot. I fell into a brief appreciation as I gazed at the gradually thinning crimson line.
‘Even when I think about it again, I’ve come a long way from Queen Island.’
The Banahel Kingdom, beneath the Aragald Mountain.
It’d already been three months since I embarked on the journey to find the Gray Hawks Clan.
Usually, after two or three months, most hawks reach adulthood.
However, my Ru (the hawk chick) still had fluffy down feathers and was about the size of a palm, so it looked like it’d only hatched a few days ago.
‘There must be something wrong with Ru.’
But how could I find out what the problem was?
On my way here, I sought advice twice, but the first expert said I was lying when I said Ru was only three months old!
The second expert babbled, ‘Ah, the Aragald Gray Hawk! A mysterious bird indeed! But no matter how mysterious, this size… Hmm… Let me study it. How about selling it to me? I’ll give you a good price, so you won’t regret it.’ And for that, I slapped him.
‘I need to meet the Hawks clan before Ru falls sick.’
At that moment, someone entered the house.
When I went out to the kitchen connected to the entrance, I found Rue, who seemed to have returned after being out for a while, unwrapping and spreading out ingredients on the dining table.
Suddenly, a faint fishy smell tickled my nose. The cause was the fish on the wooden cutting board.
“Doesn’t it smell?”
“It’s not spoiled.”
Rue skillfully removed the fish scales and cleaned the head and innards.
I stuck close to his back, watching his excellent cooking skills as he seasoned the fish, sprinkled spices, and prepared the vegetables.
When the fish stew finally took on a decent shape, I couldn’t hide my anticipation and tried to sneak a tiny taste, but…
“Wait, Daisy.”
How much?
“At least 30 minutes. Go sit over there.”
I endured 30 minutes anxiously while playing with Ru (the baby hawk).
The taste of the Calepa-style fish stew I had after a long period of patience was truly amazing.
‘Delicious.’
Was it because I had been hungry for a long time? I didn’t feel full until I finished three bowls.
I watched Ru slowly empty a small bowl the size of a rattle, nibbling at a piece of dry bread in my head like a squirrel along with it.
We could only eat 0.5 servings these past few weeks, but today we ate full servings each.
It suddenly reminded me of Rue wearing a straw hat and digging up fresh potatoes. Also, the sight of him mercilessly throwing away the leftover ingredients into the trash in the Weatherwoods mansion.
“Why were you so strict with food in Weatherwax when you eat so well now?”
I knew that it was difficult to find good quality ingredients around here since the whole neighbourhood was a slum. However, the Rue I knew was a person who would rather not eat and starve instead of using subpar ingredients.
“Remember well, Daisy. It’s better to starve than to use trashy ingredients.”
Wasn’t that right?
“We, who have achieved the unity of body and mind, can sustain our lives with the energy of the earth alone without eating food. Of course, there are limits; two years, perhaps. As for three years, I haven’t experienced it, so I don’t know.”
What? Two years? I could survive without eating for two years?
‘That’s… but do I really need to do that?’
But what did being able to survive without eating have to do with strict eating habits? I shook my head.
“Your answer just now raised more questions than it answered. Alright, I’ll just think of it as one of your whims like always.”
I thought that would be the end of the conversation, but Rue, after being quiet for a while, suddenly spoke up.
“…The last image of you that I remembered was when you were on Queen Island.”
I listened attentively to his words while chewing on a piece of bread that was not just tough but hard.
“It wasn’t you from when you volunteered for the army with me on Queen Island, the you that people started to follow, or the you that was hailed as a her – no, that wasn’t the you in my memory. The you inside me was always under a tent, drinking rainwater, swimming in the sea to find your younger brother’s belongings. With an exhausted, skinny face.”
“Ah, so you mean you felt sorry for me and wanted to treat me to a good meal when we met again?”
“I might have. It was a time when I was pretty sentimental.”
“Then what about now? Do I still look as pitiful as the days when I stayed on that island?”
Instead of answering, Rue snapped his fingers towards the air.
A mirror flew in from the bedroom and stopped in front of me. Through the layers of dust that had accumulated, my face, darkened by the sun and marked by the hard work of travel and cleaning, was revealed.
‘I look like I could catch a bear.’
I silently finished the rest of my meal.
Rue, who had finished tidying up and organizing the kitchen in his own way, came in with the mailbox and emptied its contents on the floor. Most of it was advertising leaflets.
“If you can’t win against them, join them… Hmm, that’s a pretty good quote. Let’s see… New Generation Bandits gang needs new members… That’s fresh. Is it be a thieves gang that only targets the upper class?”
“Impossible.”
So it was thievery against the poor? Then I’d need to visit them later when I had the time.
While I sorted through the garbage advertisements to throw them away, Rue was holding a letter and reading its content without hesitation.
Seeing that the quality of the paper was remarkably luxurious, it seemed to be a letter related to the issue Rue had found strange (the migration of the White Hawks clan).
“What does it say, Rue? Have they gotten your consent on their own and designated it as a cultural heritage? For a timid kind as you said, he sure is decisive.”
I was joking, but Rue’s expression was stiff.
“…It would have been better if that were the case. It’s become a lot more troublesome than I thought.”
There is a little bit if text missing. The quote from the first expert she asks about the hawk is cut off. Only the second quote is there.
fixed!
Thank you for the chapter!
Aah, Rue wasn’t slumlord after all… Recruiting gang members through leaflet does remind me that it’s not just these two but entire world which is a bit wakey.