Chapter 12
Chapter 12
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 012
Chapter Title: Villa, Sponsorship, and Shopping
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◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Philip and his group rode in the carriage to a mansion a short distance from the shopping district.
"This is it, Philip. It's a villa where royalty from neighboring countries stay briefly when visiting the academy to see their children or relatives who've enrolled. The merchant guild has about three more buildings like this anyway."
Philip looked around the villa that Lizriel Yusuf had shown him, a satisfied expression on his face. It was a two-story building with six rooms, filled with all sorts of expensive furniture and decorations.
"You're lending me this place?"
"I'd love to just give it to you, but that might cause some issues."
Philip nodded.
"Yeah, figured as much. Is everything else ready?"
"Of course. We've already hired a butler, head maid, chef, and gardener. The butler will handle hiring the other staff. All you need to do, Philip, is relax here."
'She doesn't seem suspicious at all.'
It was the expected outcome, but Lizriel was even more accommodating than Philip had anticipated.
He'd wondered if she might doubt the authenticity of the 'Golden Seal' from the Yusuf Merchant Guild, but it seemed she had a way to verify it was genuine.
"Um, I need to pee. Where's the bathroom?"
Lua, who had been standing quietly, suddenly spoke up. Felicia Oswald, coming from nobility, was startled by the girl's blunt wording.
"You can't say it like that. You're a fourteen-year-old girl, and there are men here."
"...?"
Lua tilted her head, as if she had no idea what the problem was. Felicia pressed a hand to her forehead.
She knew the environment Lua had grown up in.
"The bathroom's at the end of the hallway."
Lizriel answered.
"Thanks. I'll go with her real quick."
Felicia took Lua toward the bathroom.
'...I invited her, but why did she really come?'
Philip tilted his head. He couldn't figure out why Felicia had tagged along.
Now alone in the drawing room, Philip asked,
"When do you plan to announce the 'Golden Seal'?"
Lizriel smiled faintly and wagged her finger at his question.
"I'll handle that. More importantly, I still can't quite believe it. That seal is my ultimate weapon."
"You trust me completely?"
Lizriel let out a small sigh.
"...The fact that you're even asking means you have no intention of deceiving me. When people lie, they usually have a motive. Especially when fooling someone like me, who has the power to ruin them—they'd need some grand purpose, right?"
"Fair enough."
"But you haven't laid any conditions on me. You must know how much benefit you could gain from this. People like that are either ridiculous con artists or someone with not long to live. But you're neither. That's why I trust you."
"...I could still be a con artist."
"I have no other options left anyway. Continuing the succession battle like this, I have no chance of winning. You're like the die I'm betting on in this gamble, Philip. No need to test me. Until you betray me, I'll do everything to earn your favor."
Philip nodded.
Lizriel Yusuf was an outstanding merchant, so her easy trust felt unnatural. He'd wanted to know why, and her reasoning made perfect sense.
'She's been backed into a corner at this point. It's not that she has a reason to believe— she just wants to believe.'
If she didn't get involved with the protagonist's group in the original story, Lizriel's fate would be quite cruel. Of course, that had changed now.
"Oh, looks like the girls who went to pick flowers are back."
Felicia and Lua, who had gone downstairs, were coming back up holding hands.
'Women bond fast.'
Philip approached Lua and asked,
"Lua, what do you think? Do you like it here?"
"Huh? Um, it seems like a really nice house."
Lua answered without much thought. It was the first time she'd seen such a large house. It seemed ten times bigger than the village chief's home at the foot of the mountain.
"Good. This is where you'll be living from now on, so it has to suit you."
Philip nodded.
"...Huh? Me... why?"
Lua's eyes went wide.
"Because I'm planning to officially sponsor you from now on, and I don't want the girl under my sponsorship living in the dorms."
At the word "sponsorship," Lua blinked.
"Sponsorship... what's that?"
She vaguely remembered hearing it at the entrance ceremony but didn't know what it meant.
"To put it simply and straightforwardly, it means I'll be your guardian. I'll take responsibility for your food, clothes, housing, sleep—everything."
"So... why?"
Lua was innocent but not stupid. Philip felt he needed to convince her.
'What should I say?'
After a brief moment of thought, Philip just smiled faintly and replied,
"Because I want to. Why, don't you like it?"
Lua tilted her head.
She didn't dislike it. She was just confused about what was happening.
'Why is he being so nice to me? If Uncle were here, I'd ask him.'
In her short life, unconditional kindness had only come from Uncle and Ruen.
The villagers at the foot of the mountain shunned her and Ruen for being orphans, and the village kids wouldn't play with her.
Sometimes boys hitting puberty would try to lure her to secluded spots with gifts, but Lua could see right through their intentions.
Philip's motives eluded her.
'Does he pity me?'
She remembered the look on Philip's face as he carried her out of the dorms.
His gaze, filled with sympathy and regret, even held a hint of guilt, and his touch was as gentle as handling fragile glass.
'...I don't get it. But I don't hate it.'
There was no repulsion. Just surprise. But she didn't want to go back to the dorms.
She'd been forcibly separated from Ruen and lived for days amid indifference and cold treatment.
The girls she shared a room with were kind, but not kind enough to endure a stranger commoner's crying for days.
'Do you need help? I can't really do much...'
'I get that you're sad, but...'
Lukewarm indifference, neither cold nor warm. If it had been outright coldness, Lua might have forgotten her sadness sooner.
Kindness and consideration born from obligation, not sincerity, hurt even more.
'I didn't want to cry either.'
Having made up her mind, Lua nodded.
"I... like it."
Philip reached out and stroked Lua's brown hair.
"Good choice."
Meanwhile, Felicia, watching the scene, chewed her nails in utter confusion.
'...Should I stop this? Should I say something?'
On the surface, it looked heartwarming, like a fairy tale scene. But the protagonist was her student, and Philip Oswald.
'Has that girl really changed him?'
The issue was Philip. Felicia knew his violent, self-centered personality all too well.
Though she'd never been the direct target, it wasn't the sort of temperament that changed easily.
If Philip were his old self, she would have stepped in immediately to stop him.
But her brother, whom she hadn't seen in years, had changed dramatically.
Just yesterday, when Instructor Diana Frenhal mentioned Philip arguing with senior instructors, Felicia nearly fainted in shock.
'What did you say? A fight? Philip?'
'Yeah. I heard he clashed with Instructor Haron Babe.'
'He didn't... draw his sword, right? What happened to Instructor Babe?'
'...Felicia. Your brother just had a verbal spat. And apparently, Haron Babe crossed the line first.'
'What? A verbal spat? No way.'
Philip wasn't one for verbal arguments. Fists or swords came first.
To her, a verbal spat wasn't even an incident.
She didn't think Philip was in the wrong anyway. She'd already warned the swordsmanship instructors firmly.
Philip was like a failed spell on the verge of exploding—never provoke him.
If he caused trouble, she'd take responsibility and punish him, so just avoid him.
Even after that, Haron Babe had poked at him—it was the instructor's fault.
"...You, let's talk for a sec."
"Huh? No, why?"
Felicia grabbed Philip's wrist and dragged him out of the drawing room. Lizriel, watching amusedly, smiled at Lua.
"Hi?"
"Hello."
Lua bowed politely. Lizriel beamed, finding her adorable, then spoke.
"Do you know what happens if you freeze sweet cream with magic?"
It was affection at lightspeed.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "...You fought with Instructor Haron Babe, right?"
Felicia, having dragged Philip to the second-floor terrace, finally spoke.
Philip flinched. But it made sense—she'd hear about an instructor drawing a sword.
"Yeah, I did. I didn't want to... Sorry."
Felicia let out a disbelieving scoff at his apology.
"Why are you apologizing? I heard Haron Babe crossed the line first."
"It was something I could've endured and let slide."
"Endured? You?"
"...Can't I?"
"No, you did well to endure... I mean, it's just..."
Philip stared blankly at Felicia fumbling for words.
She seemed unsure herself what she wanted to say.
'Puberty?'
"If it's not a big deal, can I head back? I've got a lot to do."
'Gotta go blow some cash.'
Felicia's eyes narrowed, and she turned away sharply.
"...Do whatever."
She seemed sulky, so Philip hesitated briefly. But with no sign she'd speak, he turned to return to the drawing room.
Then her calm voice came from behind.
"Philip Oswald."
"What?"
"Why are you sponsoring that girl?"
Philip blinked. He couldn't say she'd awaken as the Sword Saint's heir in five years.
"She looked like she needed an adult's help. If you'd seen Lua crying in her dorm bed, sis, you wouldn't ask."
Felicia found it convincing—she'd seen Lua exhausted from crying, asleep.
She had no grounds or reason to interfere.
Philip still made her uneasy, but snatching this luck from Lua over that would be unfair.
"...If you decide to sponsor her, take full responsibility to the end. It's a... fine choice, but I still don't think you've changed."
Felicia mumbled awkwardly.
She never imagined speaking to her once-loathed brother like this—it embarrassed her.
"Got it. Wanna come shop for Lua's clothes?"
"What?"
"Weekend's soon, so she needs outing clothes. Training sword too, pocket money, and something for that frizzy hair."
Seemed no need to worry.
Philip had once fantasized about unlimited credit—very plebeian, highly improbable.
'This is guilt-free pleasure.'
He was in the academy's fanciest boutique with Lua.
"W-Welcome!"
The 30s-looking manager broke into a cold sweat at Philip.
'...Is this young man Lizriel Yusuf's lover?'
Ridiculous misunderstanding, but inevitable.
Why else would Lizriel Yusuf personally cover all his picks?
The boutique had items even nobles balked at.
Philip said to the owner,
"Hi. Buying clothes for this girl—no corsets, just comfortable activewear, a few recommendations?"
He was the handsomest man she'd seen lately.
Nearly smiling, she composed herself. One wrong word, and reprisal from the Yusuf branch manager—who knew?
Lua's eyes widened at the dazzling displays.
"Anything catch your eye?"
"Doesn't seem like anything I could wear."
Many dresses targeted adult women, not underdeveloped girls like her.
"Pick what you like. We'll buy and tailor to fit."
Philip sank into the shop sofa.
The owner blinked in disbelief.
'...What?'
Something an ignoramus would say.
Alter off-the-rack? Why make kids' clothes then? Pride as expert vs. livelihood threat—she grimaced silently.
'Like a princess's clothes.'
Lua gaped at lace-heavy dresses and frilly ribboned onesies.
"...Guess I'll pick a few."
Philip chuckled at Lua gawking.
He stood, scanning outfits.
'Brown hair—beige or white coords. Pink looks good too.'
Lua was still baby-faced.
Cute over mature suited her.
"Wanna try some? Fitting room?"
"Curtains over there. Maid...?"
Ladies usually brought maids or nannies.
"..."
Philip eyed her silently: No maid— you want me to help change?
"I'll assist. This way, miss..."
Lua followed behind the curtain.
She tried several; polka-dot dress, frilled-shawl one, comfy pajamas selected.
Philip smiled softly at Lua in the dress.
'Ponytail would be cuter.'
Men grew girlier with age, into knitting, gardening, pets.
Philip fit the pattern.
Uncle-shopping-niece vibe—he leaned in.
"Come here a sec."
"Okay."
He picked a sky-blue ribbon matching her hair, gathered it neatly into a ponytail.
"Hm."
Satisfactory.
Curious, Lua checked the mirror and gaped.
A stranger girl stared back: knee-length white dress, blue ribbon.
"Doesn't look like me."
Philip nodded at her mutter.
Well-fed, well-rested kids glowed. Pretty base, well-dressed—doll-like adorable.
"Deliver all this, please."
The owner agreed. Philip spotted a sapphire dress—jeweled, lacy luxury.
"That too."
"Yes, sir."
Satisfying shop—someone else's money helped.
"Let's go."
Philip led Lua out. Much more to buy.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Next: blacksmith-cum-armory.
Hidden deep in back alleys—a secret shop Philip frequented most in-game.
"Where's this?"
"Sells swords, shields, armor. Once inside, stay quiet—no talking. Owner's grumpy."
"Okay."
"Good girl."
Philip patted Lua's head unnecessarily and entered.
"...What? Who sent you?"
Molten metal and oil stench.
Muscular man in braces only, hammer in hand, greeted them.
"Won't sell without intro? I know what this place is."
He retorted; man shook head grudgingly.
"No. Gotta eat. But I don't sell premium to the unqualified."
'Picky as ever.'
Yonson's Armory. Yonson: muscular mage-turned-blacksmith, formally trained at yellow mage tower.
Canon: sole continent success fusing smithing-magic.
Ignore other merchants—befriend Yonson for future ease.
"What'll it be?"
"Decent sword for her, and bracers."
"You paying?"
"Yes."
"Show your skills then. Best you've got—I'll match goods to worth."
Yonson: master artisan, proud.
Game required certain skill/secret art grade for his gear.
Philip pondered.
'Show mana control.'
Ideally, jaw-dropping level.
"Lend a sword."
Neria at villa—belt empty. Yonson frowned at request.
"Dagger okay?"
"Fine."
Philip gripped handed dagger, focused—blue Sword Aura bloomed.
Yonson snorted.
"Hmph. Aura users everywhere. That all?"
"Nah."
Philip grinned, swung at air.
Aura whipped out, stretched meters to slam opposite wall.
Yonson gaped at brick scar.
"...Fuck! What the hell was that?"
Philip frowned.
"Kid's here—watch the language."
"Not my problem? Explain. How'd you morph external Aura like that? Magic-only shit. Mana total unchanged?"
"But it worked."
Yonson gritted teeth.
Defied his common sense.
Swordsmen refined mana to Aura for external effect; mages used raw mana.
Spells/rites set rules, altering mana motion/properties = magic.
Philip, swordsman-looking, no spell/rite, infused 'elasticity' into refined Aura.
Mana-savvy folk wouldn't believe without seeing.
'Ex-mage—gets it instantly.'
Philip stroked chin, pleased—ego boost.
"So, how?"
"Won't sell if I don't tell?"
"Fuck no!"
Yonson stomped excitedly. Satisfying reaction.
"Not close enough to share secrets. Goods first?"
Philip suggested slyly; Yonson got it.
'Yeah, punk. Frequent customer—treat nice.'
"Wait."
Seasoned despite youth, he sighed, fetched warehouse.
Returned with black longsword, leather bracers.
"...Never thought I'd sell this. 'Seeker'—black blade, best beginner sword. Wield often, adapts length/weight to user."
Yonson handed black sword to blank Lua. Then bracers.
"Wyvern leather, manticore blood-etched spell. Blocks wrist shocks dropping sword—few times."
Explanations screamed quality.
Philip took, belted sword; bracers for Lua, but dress—belted himself. Give later.
"Damn... Bracers fine, but that sword—guy eyeing it. More bullshit incoming."
"One more."
"What?"
"Mithril-mixed swords?"
"...How'd you know?"
Yonson clicked tongue, astounded. Existed, but few knew.
"Can I see?"
Yonson fetched again.
Silver sword: thin, rapier-like, beautifully impractical.
Philip whistled.
'Still unsold now.'
He knew its fate.
'Can't let that crazy half-elf have it.'
"This too."
"This? Failure. Embarrassing work. No magic. Buy if you want—mithril cost only."
'Scamming prime item cheap?'
Philip bowed thanks.
"Gift for sis."
Handed paper: note—Yusuf Merchant Guild pays all his buys.
'Yusuf? Who? Royalty? Looks it.'
"...Who are you?"
Yonson asked warily. Secret weapon? Sword God Temple elite?
"Me? New academy swordsmanship instructor. Frequent visitor—don't skimp."
Philip left Yonson's Armory.
"...Instructor? Bullshit."
Yonson muttered alone.
Philip's feat: revolutionary mana use, new swordsmanship horizon.
'Gotta find out who he is.'
He'd use connections.
Exactly 30 minutes later, Yonson knew Philip's identity perfectly.