Settling In 5

A question from some viewer that never quite made it into Han Se-ah's field of vision, buried under the flood of chat. In a world where the goddess actually existed, why would the hero she had chosen lower herself before the royal family? The person who ought to have answered was currently melting into a puddle under the maids' lavish attentions, so I could only reply to it in my head.

Well, because the king was chosen by the goddess too….

The Divine Right of Kings.

The political doctrine that a monarch's authority comes not from men but from God was, in this world, not a tool for consolidating royal power — it was historical fact. The goddess who had created every living thing upon this land had, among the humans who gathered into tribes, bestowed a crown upon one of exceptional talent. That was the story.

I didn't know the true history carved into this land, but the mere fact that the Temple wasn't frothing at the mouth and declaring a Holy Crusade against the royal family was proof enough it was real. Those zealots would never tolerate anyone using the goddess for propaganda.

"This way, please."

"Is there any luggage we should carry in for you?"

"If you're tired from your travels, we can prepare a bath."

In short, if the hero was the supreme general appointed by the goddess, then the king was the leader she had appointed. And according to the K-medieval fantasy common sense baked into the game, the sword-swinger ranked one notch below the leader.

The Temple had publicly declared that the goddess had appointed a hero, so of course the royal family — itself recognized by the goddess — would verify that hero. And as for Han Se-ah the player, she didn't seem to have a single complaint about the treatment.

Well, how many games had there been that only treated you like a hero on the surface?

Games that sent the hero meant to save the world off on their journey with pocket change and a wooden stick. Games where a great commander had to chop firewood on a back mountain the moment the season changed. Games where the hero who saved the world ended up hauling boxes at a general store, or where a protagonist with dragon's blood got beaten like a dog and arrested by the local town guard.

So even if, politically speaking, they were bowing their heads to the royal family, watching them receive such lavish treatment in practice left Han Se-ah the player and her viewers with nothing to do but grin from ear to ear.

"Ugh, uwaaah…."

"Oh my? Your back is terribly knotted. I suppose that's only natural for someone who's been fighting so hard to defeat the Demon King in the Tower. I've heard that mages tend to sit at desks for so long their muscles go stiff."

"Ahk— th-there—?"

"It's all right. It may hurt a little at first, but it'll feel wonderful afterward."

"I-I'm gonna get— banned? This is a warning, right— ah?! I don't know! Just look at Roland's face! I turned the camera on as a gag thinking it'd just be funny pain, but this is seriously dangerous!"

You could tell just from what the camera was showing. The women had been guided in a different direction from me under the pretext of working out their fatigue. The camera lingered briefly on a private bathtub scattered with flower petals, swung over to me for a moment, then swung right back when the massage started.

Of course, once that "massage" progressed from loosening arms and shoulders to stripping clothes and applying scented oil, the camera came whipping back to me in a panic. Still, Han Se-ah — who'd accidentally filled her stream with massage ASMR and earned herself a healthy dose of ban anxiety in the process — didn't seem to have a single real complaint.

She'd probably been expecting a future of forced muscle-loosening that would make her yelp out ridiculous comedy screams… but a maid who performed that kind of painful variety-show massage on nobility would be fired on the spot.

"Ugh, the treatment is so good it's actually making me nervous. Feels like we're living too high."

"Do the nobles in the capital live like this? This is a bit much…."

"Haaah, I'd love to let the sisters at the Temple try this massage. They've been saying their backs hurt from hanging laundry lately."

I had no particular desire to be waited on hand and foot, so I sent the maids away and settled in for some peaceful internet browsing — only for the camera to come fleeing over to me for refuge. For a long while after that I web-surfed like a kid cheating on a test, shifting the hologram this way and that to keep it out of frame.

It wasn't just Han Se-ah who'd melted. Everyone came shuffling into the drawing room with cheeks flushed red from the aftereffects of their baths, so thoroughly softened that any skilled fan artist who saw them would probably have drawn four slimes instead of people.

"So we just… rest here until we meet the princess. I hope we get to wait a long time."

"I'm worried my sword will go dull if I keep this up. Roland… want to spar a little? Just to loosen up?"

They walked over at a leisurely pace and collapsed into the chairs around a table already set with refreshments. Every one of them was draped limply over the furniture, swaying like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wilted plants — and the maids who had followed them in paid it no mind whatsoever as they attached themselves to the party.

They poured black tea from teapots that were practically works of art, set out desserts small enough to scoop with a tiny teaspoon, and chattered softly by their ears with recommendations of this and that — always carefully within the bounds of not embarrassing anyone who didn't know proper etiquette.

You really had to hand it to star-rated maids.

The fact that not a single maid attending us was without a star rating was impressive in more ways than one. At this point it felt less like the maids had stars attached to them and more like they'd exclusively selected people who already had stars. And given that the Schmidt surname had been passed down, the head maid was almost certainly of noble birth.

What had been an adventure through a plague-ridden land fighting the undead had somehow turned into a nature documentary set in a lily garden surrounded by maids. Thanks to that, Han Se-ah's stream had once again surged in popularity.

…Man, human nature — a man's instincts, specifically — really was that predictable.

The capital's royal-adjacent district was a place where players lingering in the city — and players who'd scattered into various roles as mercenaries or merchants — couldn't set foot. Just ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as high-end apartment complexes had security watching who came and went, this neighborhood where nobles clustered was not somewhere players could casually enter.

So the daily routine of eating breakfast waited on by maids, wandering the streets to light up the minimap, bathing under maid attendance, having dinner, and going to sleep was itself being used as a kind of game guidebook.

"But do you guys actually find this interesting? No, I'm not trying to pick a fight… someone was apparently building a 3D map of the kingdom's capital just from watching my stream. It just occurred to me and I thought it was pretty impressive."

"Hey! What— how do you even interpret that to get there?"

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

At that point the situation flipped, and the viewers were the ones laughing at Han Se-ah for worrying about her stream. They just snickered and asked what she was going to do if they genuinely were happy just watching the maids. Faced with that, Han Se-ah had no choice but to accept it.

This was an unfriendly first-generation virtual reality game with no playback speed controls and no skip function, after all. There was nothing to do but quietly wait for the princess's summons.

Still, the waiting itself wasn't painful, so nobody felt any real dissatisfaction. I certainly didn't — Han Se-ah had grabbed the camera and dashed out for a capital tour, leaving me free to enjoy some peaceful web surfing.

Lying on a plush bed with a magical tool's cool breeze on my face, browsing the internet while the maids handled every little thing from bathwater to meal prep. So this was what a luxury hotel vacation felt like.

"Miss Hanna, Her Highness has said she will invite the members of the hero's party to dinner tomorrow evening. Shall I adjust your schedule?"

"No! Tomorrow evening is fine."

"Very well. Understood."

Fortunately this wasn't a maid hell designed to hold guests forever, and on the evening of the third day, the head maid brought us the news at dinner.

She walked over deliberately clicking her heels to announce her presence, yet her waist didn't move an inch. Approaching with such impeccable composure that you'd think she had an iron rod sewn into her dress, she looked so refined that without the apron you'd have taken her for the owner of this villa.

And of course, that elegant, immaculate appearance set the viewers off arguing about something completely pointless again.

"But if you want short skirts and skin exposure, wouldn't it be better to just look at a different outfit? Even for a maid uniform, the core is the black dress, white apron, and the cap on the head — if you're going to do exposure with that outfit, ahem…."

Was the Japanese-style moe-fied weeb maid outfit better, or was the traditional maid uniform — a full-coverage dress with an apron over it and no skin showing — the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠superior choice? A debate worthy of viewers who felt pure happiness just watching Han Se-ah surrounded by maids with zero story progression.

And with Han Se-ah spotting the donation angle and casually fanning the flames, at least the wait wouldn't be boring.