Chapter 355
Chapter 355
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 355
Chapter Title: Midnight Conversation (1)
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Just a few words were enough to settle on staying the night at the orphanage.
Yareli found this spur-of-the-moment plan absurd, yet somehow amusing at the same time.
It was so different from her own life, always bound by procedures and plans—it even felt refreshing. Much like the stories of Oliver's past that she'd heard from him.
"Ah... Would it be all right if we stayed the night?"
Oliver belatedly asked Yareli for permission, as if the thought had just occurred to him.
"I think that would be fine."
"Ah, thank you."
With Yareli's agreement, Oliver expressed his gratitude and immediately rolled up his sleeves, following Director Amelin to repair the roof.
Leaving Yareli all alone.
She was dumbfounded again, but as the orphanage children and staff stared at her blankly, Yareli asked in Gallos.
"...Is there perhaps anything I can help with?"
Shortly after lunchtime, Oliver's visit to Arc Orphanage unexpectedly turned into an overnight stay, and he ended up helping with the various chores that had piled up.
He assisted Director Amelin in repairing the roof, built a new fence, patched holes in the walls, and replaced the creaky floorboards.
These were all tasks that required significant physical labor, but Oliver quickly got the hang of them and handled them adeptly.
There was a slight sense of fatigue, of course, but it wasn't bad at all.
Occasional manual labor like this refreshed his mood and cleared his mind, even if it would be tough to do every day.
"So, I think I had a pretty good day today. How about you, Miss Yareli?"
In the dining hall on the first floor of Arc Orphanage.
Oliver asked Yareli, who was sitting at the same table. She looked quite tired, but still seemed fine overall.
"It was good. Though there was something a bit ridiculous."
"Ridiculous?"
"My companion suddenly left me behind and went off to fix the roof alone."
"Ah... But do you have other companions besides me?"
Yareli slightly lifted her thick glasses and massaged the bridge of her nose. She seemed genuinely exhausted.
In that moment, her ice-blue eyes were fully revealed.
"Joli!"
A girl about five years old approached Yareli and shouted energetically. She was very lively and, like the other children, clearly fond of Yareli.
"What did she say?"
"She said... my eyes are pretty."
Yareli said shyly. She didn't seem used to such pure compliments from a child.
Oliver nodded and replied.
"That's true. Your eyes are beautiful."
Oliver spoke as the maids at the House of Angels had taught him. They had insisted that whenever you meet a woman, you should always compliment her beauty—whether she actually was or not.
'That's the mark of a gentleman.'
'But I'm not a gentleman.'
'Please. Just go with it on the small things.'
Oliver recalled that conversation from back then.
The maids at the House of Angels had gone through quite a bit of hardship teaching him, so in return, he tried his best to follow their advice.
But it seemed like a mistake this time.
Upon hearing Oliver's words, Yareli's expression hardened again, her emotions flickering in confusion.
A moment later, she shook her head and spoke.
"Was that something you learned somewhere too? Always saying someone is pretty."
"Oh, how did you know? I learned it from some acquaintances. They said to always tell women they're pretty, whether they actually are or not."
Oliver explained his lesson without the slightest hesitation. Yareli, the genius of the Magic Tower, apparently had insight that pierced straight to the heart. Impressive.
"......"
"...You're looking at me with contempt right now. Did I make some mistake?"
Oliver asked, noticing the disdain filling Yareli's eyes.
It was obvious even to ordinary eyes, not just those of a black magician.
The children nearby sensed the tense atmosphere and quietly backed away.
'Should I ask again what I did wrong?'
As Oliver pondered, the sound of a cart being wheeled in echoed: drrrrk.
From the kitchen came a massive pot of soup, baskets full of bread, bowls, and utensils all loaded onto the cart.
The children, who had been playfully waiting, caught the scent of food, stood from their chairs, lined up, received their bowls, utensils, a hunk of bread, and soup, then returned to their seats.
"The food here comes out pretty well."
Oliver muttered. Yareli set aside her contempt for the moment and asked.
"Does it?"
"Yes, the soup is rich, and they give plenty of bread."
Oliver recalled the watery potato soup from the orphanage and the mines.
Ever since Joseph had taken him in, the quality of his food had improved exponentially, but Oliver hadn't forgotten those flavors.
After all, he'd spent more time eating thin soup than good food.
"Sorry it's late."
As Oliver and Yareli watched the children receive their meals, the director came out carrying a tray with bread and soup for Oliver, Yareli, and herself.
She deftly served the food to Oliver and Yareli, then sat across from them.
A moment later, a black-haired girl who seemed to be staff approached.
"Director, I've distributed all the food."
The director nodded and called the children in Gallos, suggesting they say grace before the meal.
As soon as she spoke, the children clasped their hands tightly, closed their eyes, and the director and Yareli did the same.
Oliver followed suit, clasping his hands and closing his eyes.
A moment later, the mealtime prayer began in both Gallos and the kingdom tongue.
"Heavenly Father above. We thank you for providing our daily bread today. As we gather around this table and partake of the food you have given us, grant us the grace to become more abundant. Bless all those who sweated to prepare this meal, and allow those who do not receive your grace at this moment to escape their suffering. We give thanks in your name. Mahala."
Yareli recited the pre-meal prayer fluently, and Oliver eavesdropped, following along a half-beat behind.
Once the prayer in the two languages ended, everyone began eating.
Clink. Clink.
Oliver first scooped up some soup with his spoon and tasted it. Not only did it look hearty, but the flavor and nutrition were substantial too.
"Is the meal to your liking?"
The director asked Oliver, who was tearing into his bread bit by bit, and Yareli, who was slowly sipping her soup.
"Yes, it's delicious. Director."
"It's delicious for me too."
"I'm glad to hear that. I felt bad making our guests work hard when the food is so modest."
Yareli waved her hand, politely declining the apology, and Oliver did the same.
In truth, Oliver was more than satisfied with food like this.
"Dealing with the children wasn't hard at all. It was actually nice... Lately, I've had a bit of a headache, and it helped me forget about it for a while."
Yareli spoke sincerely.
"Thank you. The children were all excited today since it's their first time meeting guests from across the sea."
"I just answered their questions."
Indeed. While Oliver was repairing the roof, Yareli had kept the children company.
They asked where she was from, why she was there, what Landa was like, and so on.
Yareli answered diligently, hiding only the fact that Oliver had come because of Joanna, and the children—raised in a place with nothing but a small town and fields nearby—were utterly captivated by her words.
Landa certainly had a charm that drew people in.
'Though enjoying that charm is another matter.'
"And thank you for lending a hand too."
The director thanked Oliver.
"I've been worried about all the places that needed fixing lately, but thanks to you, I finished in half a day what would have taken a week."
"I'm glad I could help... Could I ask you something?"
"What is it?"
"Does the director usually repair broken things herself?"
Oliver asked, recalling the orphanage where he'd grown up. When the roof leaked, they'd typically skim from the children's living expenses to hire help or have the kids hold buckets underneath.
"I handle minor repairs myself. Hiring people costs money."
"No subsidies?"
Yareli interjected with a question. She seemed interested in orphanages too.
"The government cut the subsidies. And there's a new policy limiting aid to twenty children or fewer."
Yareli glanced around the tables where the children sat. There were at least three times that number.
In other words, she was supporting more than three times the number eligible for aid.
While Yareli was surprised by this, Oliver remained calm—he'd already heard about it from Carver.
The director spoke again.
"But don't worry too much. The Pater Church provides subsidies too, and we get anonymous donations."
"Anonymous donations?"
"Yes. They send money regularly with letters."
"That's a very kind person."
Oliver quietly tore into his bread without a word.
"Yes... A kind person. Especially in tough times."
"Tough times?"
"Ah... It's nothing. By the way, may I ask your names? It's been so long since we've had guests that I forgot to ask."
"Ah... I am Yatelli Iceai, affiliated with the Scardi Subschool of the Elemental School at the Magic Tower. I'm sorry for not introducing myself sooner."
"I am Xenon Bright, an employee of the Magic Tower. Sorry for the late introduction as well."
"No, no—I'm delighted to have such kind guests. Especially from Landa."
It felt like there was some hidden meaning behind her words. His guess wasn't wrong.
"Could you ask me why I'm learning the kingdom tongue now?"
"Why are you learning the kingdom tongue?"
"To write a letter... to the Pater Church Holy Knight branch in Landa, to be precise."
"A letter?"
"Yes, there's something I want to ask."
"What?"
"I'm wondering if Joanna is doing well. She became a holy knight, left for Zelland, and we parted ways, but she was the kind of child who wrote letters every week at shortest, once a month at longest. Suddenly, the letters stopped. Do you know anything?"
That confirmed it. The director didn't know about Joanna's demotion and reassignment.
Yareli gazed quietly at Oliver, her expression showing bewilderment, and after a moment's thought, Oliver spoke.
"I don't know for sure. As I mentioned earlier, the holy knights and the Magic Tower don't exchange much information... And we've been busy lately too."
Oliver lied without batting an eye.
"Ah, I see."
"Yes... I'll look into it once I arrive in Landa."
At Oliver's words, Director Amelin kindly closed her wrinkled eyelids and nodded.
"That would be more than enough. Thank you."
After finishing the conversation with the director, Oliver ate in silence, and Yareli and the director did the same.
Once the meal ended, the children swarmed around Yareli, asking all sorts of questions about Landa.
Like how many carriages were on the roads, how many airships filled the skies, whether ice cream was free everywhere, and so on.
Yareli answered each question kindly one by one—unlike her aloof, cold demeanor at the Magic Tower.
'But it doesn't feel all that out of character.'
Oliver thought as he watched from a step back.
Maybe that was Yareli too. Not certain, but people do change depending on their surroundings.
Then, a boy about seven years old approached Oliver and tugged at his pants. He seemed to have something to say.
Oliver asked Yareli to translate. The boy said.
"Did big brother come from Landa too? What are you here for?"
"Me?"
"Yeah. That big sister said she came to help you. Are you from Landa?"
"Yes. I'm from Landa."
"Then, do you know our big sister? Joanna—she's amazing."
The child asked with an innocent smile, and the other children looked at Oliver with puffed-up anticipation, wondering if he knew their sister too.
Oliver thought of Joanna—who had neglected the other children for her siblings—and slowly opened his mouth.
"I..."
"Can't sleep?"
Deep into the night, well past bedtime.
As Oliver stood outside the orphanage, gazing at the pitch-black sky and the village shrouded in darkness, Director Amelin appeared behind him and spoke.
Oliver answered without turning around.
"Yes... For some reason, I can't sleep. Normally, I sleep right on schedule."
"A change in bed can do that. Or maybe something's on your mind."
"I see... Is the director unable to sleep because something's bothering you too?"
"As you age, nighttime sleep naturally decreases. But yes, something is on my mind."
"What?"
"Various things, but what I'm most curious about is whether Joanna is in Landa."
The director brought up the topic from dinner earlier. So she had known it was a lie after all.
"How did you know?"
"You pick it up with age. Whether someone's lying or telling the truth... Not always right, but sometimes it hits the mark."
Given her emotional state, it didn't seem like bravado. Though different in nuance, she carried the same seasoned aura as Forest, Kant, or Merlin.
Did everyone develop it with age?
"Then why didn't you ask earlier?"
"Because of the children. Joanna is a hero to them."
"Ah, I think I get it."
That was exactly why Oliver hadn't answered the child's question truthfully earlier, but had brushed it off.
When Joanna's name came up, the children's emotions had shone with pure affection and admiration.
"Also, it seemed like you didn't want to talk about it, Mr. Xenon. I didn't want to put a guest in a difficult spot."
"But now it's different?"
"In this old woman's eyes, yes. Or is there another reason you're out here in the middle of the night?"
Oh... It was strangely convincing. Something had been nagging at him, keeping sleep away—maybe it really was that.
"If it's all right, could you tell me what happened to Joanna?"
The director's request. Oliver fell into thought.
"Hm... I don't know the details myself. But if it's okay, could I propose a deal?"
Oliver suddenly suggested a trade. Completely out of the blue.
But the director neither panicked nor acted surprised, responding calmly.
Both outwardly and inwardly.
"What is it?"
"Truth is, it's true I came here because of Lady Joanna, but I don't know the specific reason myself. I feel like I need to resolve that before I can leave with peace of mind... Could you help? Then, I'll tell you everything I know."
Oliver laid bare all the facts he'd hidden. It could have caused a stir.
But he had no choice. It was what he wanted to do.
Fortunately, the director neither panicked nor showed fear.
"I don't know how much help it'll be, but I'll do whatever I can. You're not from the Magic Tower, are you?"
"No. I did come from the Magic Tower. But I have another identity too."
"What is it?"
"Black magician."