Chapter 70 - Is This... the Hero's Family...?

"Hilde, stop glaring already. That kid's gonna get pierced at this rate."

"Hmph! If he didn't wanna get threatened, he shouldn't have done it in the first place!"

In the bunker nestled deep within the darkened forest, a sturdy elderly female warrior scolded the exhibitionist gallery user. I could feel her intense gaze boring into me as I mentally reviewed the sequence of events that led to this mess once more.

That was the message that popped up while I was chilling in the bunker courtyard. We'd become friends before I knew it, but hosting guests is a big deal. I hurried inside right away to prep a proper welcome—food, beds, the works. A post-apocalyptic gourmet tour with his daughter called for top-notch everything.

I set out an amazing welcome feast that even satisfied me, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠nailed the greeting, and waited for my VIP slave—I mean, guest—to arrive.

So why'd she show up?

The "daughter" who tagged along was the same girl who'd been posting nonstop in the gallery about being the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Hero's daughter. The one I'd clearly chased off. And now she was delivered right to my doorstep.

Which meant the guy in front of me was the Hero himself.

Our HumanPatak, showing up with his massive arms binding my pups.

That's when I learned I'd unofficially dubbed the Hero "Patak" myself.

"Phew... My daughter keeps committing these faux pas. Sorry about that, Rain."

Patak—no, Hero—seemed just as awkward about the situation. He looked sheepish as he glanced at his daughter.

"Eek..."

Brunhilde shrank back, terrified.

She'd already heard the full story by now. Neither side was exactly in the right, but maybe getting caught rejecting a reasonable request because of her cringy post stung? The Hero looked genuinely sorry for her behavior.

"Haha, it's fine, Duke. I got emotional too."

But straight-up saying "your daughter's the one at fault" risked turning me into the Moderator—or worse, given the power gap. None of these three bunker visitors were weaker than me. No point picking a fight that'd make things awkward.

I lightened the mood by owning my part first.

Grateful for the out, perhaps? The Hero's expression softened a bit.

"Haha... Thanks for saying that. Puts my mind at ease."

"Hmph! Good thing you know!"

"Please shut it for once, Hilde. If it weren't for this young man, you'd be eating a Duke special right now."

Patak's daughter perked up at my words only to spew nonsense again, while Helga reined her in. Dinner was gonna be tense, but seeing their solid character, I decided to roll with it.

Anyway, endless apologies would've dragged on. Conversation lulled, so I jumped in to start eating.

"Um, Sora? Still training the pups...?"

With everyone at the table, I'd invited Sora—who was still in human form. She'd been waiting to discipline Hero and Hulk. The moment they returned, she'd dragged them to a side room and hadn't emerged since.

The door to the small room cracked open at my voice. She peeked out and declared she'd skip dinner.

"My apologies, Rain. Training isn't done yet, so I'll eat later."

"Ah, got it. Can't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠be helped then. Sorry, Sora."

"No need. This is my failure in discipline—I'll take full responsibility and finish it properly."

With that, she shut the door and vanished again.

Bummed, but looked like dinner was Sora-less.

"Um... Aunt Helga? That mana flow..."

"If you've noticed, then zip it, Hilde. No more rudeness—please."

Their whispers from the corner carried over. Sora was giving those two a proper thrashing, mana surges and all.

I wanna feel that mana flow too.

I shoved down my sulk and offered dinner.

"Shall we eat first? Didn't know your tastes, so I just laid out everything."

The living room table groaned under the feast: chicken, pig's feet, you name it—I'd stocked every tasty thing I could think of.

"Much obliged, Rain. Never seen a spread like this in my life. Truly... splendid fare."

So that wasn't his usual shtick. He fumbled mid-"shitty" with his daughter watching.

To spare the Hero any more embarrassment, I kept the chat flowing.

"Put a lot of effort in. Plenty here you can't buy in shops, Duke—so dig in."

He sat right away at my urging, his monstrous appetite on full display. Dude could probably solo the table.

"You two enjoy too. Holler if you need more."

"Grateful for the warm welcome, despite us barging in uninvited. I'll savor it."

"...I'll eat heartily."

Duke sitting next to her, maybe? Brunhilde suddenly turned demure.

I stifled a laugh, confirmed the elders had chopsticks in hand, and dug in.

"M-me! That one! The orange fish thing!"

"Hilde! At least say 'please'! Duke! You're supposed to discipline your spoiled brat, not just stuff your face!"

"Sorry, Helga. Food's too... splendid. Can't stop. Hilde's yours to handle."

"These insane parent-kid duo...!"

"Wait, how do you down a whole pig trotter bone in one bite? How?!"

An hour into dinner, the two performed food-vanishing magic while Helga desperately reined them in. The living room was chaos.

Mounds of dishes sucked into the void like they'd been possessed. They'd buy from the shop, set on the table—and I'd refill to keep pace.

Twenty minutes in, I'd quit eating to focus on restocking.

Noticing me, maybe? Even elder Helga had stopped eating.

"Um... Helga? I'm fine, so please eat. You've barely touched the sushi."

"Appreciate it, but... as their guardian, how could I?"

Helga was over eighty, Hero over sixty... She'd probably been his protector since youth.

Grateful, sure—but painful watching her starve.

I urged her to drop the duty and eat.

"Haha, no worries. Means they love it, right? They'll calm once full—so go ahead. Saw you eyeing the sushi; I'll hook you up with the good stuff nearby."

Can't put it right in front. That mad magician duo would vanish it.

Touched by the gesture? Helga teared up and nodded.

The pair lost to gluttony; the elder fought to stop them. As food vanished, sanity holders dwindled to me and Helga.

Is this... the Hero's family...? One of the five pillars upholding the world...?

I'd read once that folks with great duties often had glaring flaws. Gluttony and arrogance fit? But this was extreme.

Doubts swirling, I bought a sushi set and placed it by her.

Then Brunhilde slammed her feet on the table, yelling.

"I asked first! Why give Aunt Helga first?!"

Feet on the table? Throwing down?

I eyed the wall-mounted guns.

Before I could size up my zero-win odds, Duke schooled her.

Thwack!

"Hiiik!"

A dull thud echoed. Pig bone straight ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to Brunhilde's head.

It shattered. The L-bent bone was pure menace.

"Hilde. I entrusted your education to Helga because I'm no fine example. Lacked the qualifications."

The room's vibe flipped.

Helga gawked wide-eyed, sushi mid-bite.

Seeing that, I realized it wasn't dire—and refilled fast.

"But this transcends qualifications. Feet on the table? Unacceptable. Even beasts learn not to paw their bowls with age."

That's the logic?

I'd expected "respect for the host" or somesuch.

"Plus, it's rude to the splendid host. Got it, Hilde?"

Bonus: Props to me at the end.

His mindset differed slightly from mine, but as a Hero, his character shone.

Brunhilde, flustered, dropped her feet and admitted fault.

"S-sorry, Dad..."

"Apologize to Rain. He prepared this feast."

She glanced my way, shrinking.

"S-sorry... Won't happen again."

After a beat, sincere remorse.

I flashed a warm smile: "All good, Brunhilde. Back to eating? Sushi, right?"

"Yeah! That! Super tasty!"

Sushi mention? Instant recovery.

Shoulda chewed her out? Remorse vanished—regret for going easy crept in.

Anyway, the chaotic dinner dragged on.