A Gentle Calm
A single deck of playing cards offers a surprising variety of entertainment.
Among the options, I had suggested a few simple, lighthearted games that anyone could pick up: One Card, Old Maid, and Indian Poker.
"O-One Ca—!"
"One Card!"
While Rebecca hesitated, too bashful to raise her voice, Vivian cut in with lightning speed, pointing a triumphant finger at her like a detective cornering a culprit.
"Urgh..."
"Fufufu... Too slow, Rebecca. Come now, draw your card."
"I suppose there's no helping it. I'm simply no match for you, Lady Vivian."
"Oho~ look at our youngest! Outspeeding a Gold Rank Adventurer, are we?"
"Splendidly done, Lady Vivian."
"Ufufu... Hehehehe!"
Showered with praise from Rebecca, Lira, and myself, Vivian puffed up her chest, tipped her nose to the sky, and dissolved into an uncontrollable giggle. Her sheer, unbridled swagger was so charming that a chuckle slipped past my lips before I could stop it.
"Lord Alzen. The sun will be setting shortly."
"Hm? Already?"
I glanced toward the coachman's bench, where the setting sun was painting the horizon in deep, bleeding crimson. After staring at that entrancing red glow for a brief moment, I nodded and set my hand of cards aside.
"You're right. Let's make camp here for the night."
"Yes, my lord."
"Aww! Are we done already? We were just getting started!"
"Now, now, Vivian. We can play cards whenever we want, so let's save some fun for later. Play too much in one sitting and you'll get sick of it in no time."
"Okaaay..."
Muriel brought the carriage to a halt in a suitable clearing and unharnessed the snorting horses. Freed from their restraints, the beasts trotted about in high spirits, nibbling on the dry scrub. Seeing no signs of them bolting, they were clearly thoroughly trained.
"Brother, are we camping right here?" Vivian asked, tugging on my sleeve with wide, curious eyes.
Having spent the entire game coddling her with playful concession, the awkward distance between us had melted away considerably. It was a very good sign. If I kept working on her like this, we would be thick as thieves before long. Ideally, she would grow dependent on me... though whether that was truly possible remained to be seen.
...Haah, what the hell am I even doing?
A sudden wave of self-disgust welled up inside my chest, forcing me to put real muscle into holding my smile together.
"That's right. This isn't your first time camping, is it?"
Vivian was young and hadn't traveled much, but that didn't mean she had never set foot outside the castle walls. Given the absurdly sprawling expanse of the ducal territory, traveling anywhere by carriage inevitably took days on end. She must have experienced camping at least once or twice.
"Um...? But we don't have a lounge carriage with us...?"
Even so, she looked utterly baffled. Truly the very picture of a sheltered noble daughter.
"Heheh. Vivian, an ordinary adventurer can't afford the luxury of dragging a traveling lounge behind them."
"Huh? Then how do we sleep...?"
"With the earth as our pillow and the sky as our blanket."
"Eh...?"
She stared up at me blankly, then let her jaw drop as the meaning finally sank in. "You mean we're sleeping on the bare ground?! But wouldn't that damage our noble dignity and decorum?!"
"It certainly would, dear Vivian. But what can you do? You chose to tag along on this journey, and I have zero intention of giving a damn about dignity or decorum."
"Th-That's..."
"Tonight will likely go down as the single worst night of your short life. Welcome aboard."
"What do you think you're doing, terrorizing a child out of nowhere?"
Weller, who had remained quiet as a wooden post the entire time, finally chimed in with a sharp scoff.
"Hoh. You're surprisingly docile today, dear sister. I fully expected you to blow your top and unleash an earful of nagging."
"I saw the supplies you packed. I anticipated at least this much."
"Is that so? How boring... Well, then you must also know that you're expected to pull your weight, right?"
When I rubbed my hands together and flashed an evil grin at the only sorceress in our party, she let out an exasperated sigh.
"Haah... Fine. I'll help. What needs doing?"
"...Sister, did you eat something bad? Or are you a doppelganger?"
The moment I reached out to pluck a strand of her hair to check, she slapped my hand away with venom in her eyes.
"Where do you get off trying to pull a lady's hair? Do you have a death wish?"
"Hmm. Judging by that reaction, you're definitely Weller... What's on your mind?"
As I narrowed my eyes at her, she lifted her chin with practiced haughtiness, her gaze meeting mine without flinching. "Curious? I happen to have a few questions for you myself, so how about we talk privately later?"
"...Sounds like a plan."
Nodding, I pointed over toward Muriel. "In that case, go gather some firewood with Muriel first."
"Ah! I will handle that! There is no reason Lady Weller should be tasked with such menial chores!"
Looking thoroughly alarmed, Lira waved her hands frantically and sprinted off before anyone could stop her.
"...Rebecca. She probably doesn't know what to look for, so go guide her and lend a hand."
"Understood, Lord Alzen."
At my order, Rebecca caught up to Lira's side. After explaining a few things, the two of them began digging into the hard earth nearby. In the barren wastelands of the duchy, finding even a single piece of deadwood was a tall order. Yet even in such desolation, wondrous flora managed to take root anywhere. Especially in a world where an enigmatic energy called mana saturated the very atmosphere.
Rrrrip!
Before long, the pair hauled up an enormous, thick subterranean root. The thing writhed and thrashed violently like a living beast, but it was swiftly hacked down to manageable firewood size under the sharp edges of Lira and Rebecca's blades.
"Woooow... Brother, what is that?"
"That's a plant called a Mole Root. It's basically a tree that grows entirely underground. What you're looking at is just a tiny piece of it."
"Really? Then just how massive is the whole thing?"
"Who knows? Your guess is as good as mine."
I actually knew quite well, but I played dumb. Among the field bosses haunting the duchy's wastelands was a monster known as the Predator Root. According to the game's lore, it was born from a Mole Root that had undergone demonic mutation. In sheer size, it ranked among the very largest field bosses in existence.
"Do I fill this with water?"
"Yes. I apologize for the trouble, Lady Weller. Thank you for your labor."
"There's no need for such excessive formality. It's hardly difficult work."
While Rebecca and Lira prepared the firewood, Muriel and Weller checked on the horses before providing them with water and dry feed.
"Right then, guess it's my turn to get moving."
"Huh? You're going to do something too, Brother?"
"......"
Her wide, innocent eyes practically screamed, Is there actually anything you know how to do? I froze for a split second, then forced a dry laugh and dragged out a bundle of heavy canvas.
Clang! Claaang!
Securing the rectangular canvas with rope and driving heavy iron pegs into the arid wasteland soil was all it took to create a serviceable roof. Raising side flaps using the same method produced a simple tent structure capable of fending off wind and rain.
"Amazing! You're really good at this, Brother!"
"You think so? Haha..."
Receiving genuine praise from a little girl over pitching a basic tent gave me mixed feelings, so I offered an awkward chuckle and patted her on the shoulder.
"Young Master. The campfire is lit."
"Mm, good. Then let's get started on dinner in earnest."
"Yes. If you will wait just a moment, I shall—"
"No, I'll take care of it. To be precise, Vivian and I will."
"Pardon?"
"...Brother?"
Not only Muriel and Vivian, but even Weller and Lira stopped dead in their tracks, their jaws dropping in unison.
"Let's all enjoy a truly horrific dinner, shall we?"
Savoring their collective shock, I tipped back a swig of liquor and let a wicked grin spread across my face.
A large pot half-filled with water began to bubble merrily. Because the meat had been lightly seared in butter before the water was added, a rich layer of fat shimmered across the boiling surface.
"I-Is this right, Brother?"
"Oh, look at that! You're a natural. Quite handy with a knife, aren't you?"
"Ehehe..."
When I praised the gruesome slaughterhouse scene of potatoes and carrots butchered into uneven, jagged chunks, Vivian blushed and redoubled her enthusiasm.
"What should I do next?!"
"Just toss them into the pot and let them simmer. Ah, pour in the milk too. While we're at it, why not dump in some cheese?"
Glug, glug, glug!
"U-Um... Brother? Is it really okay to put this much in...?"
"Perishables like these need to be eaten as quickly as possible anyway. It's better to use them generously while we can."
"I-I see..."
In truth, actual adventurer fare was infinitely simpler and cruder than this, but Vivian would likely go her entire life without realizing we were indulging in absurd luxury. Once the broth had reduced to a rich, velvety stew, I finished it off with a heavy dusting of salt and black pepper.
Taste testing? Didn't bother.
"All right, our youngest's cream stew is officially complete. Dig in, everyone."
As I smirked and handed out cheap tin bowls purchased from a general store, Weller's face contorted into a grimace. Her mouth opened as if to spit out a scathing rebuke, but in the end, she merely sighed and accepted the bowl.
"...Thank you for the food."
"Thank you for the meal, Lady Vivian!"
"I shall eat well, Vivian."
"Y-Yes! I hope it tastes good!"
Thrilled by her very first cooking experience, Vivian stared at the party with eyes so intense they threatened to bore holes through them. Muriel spooned up the stew without the slightest hesitation, but Rebecca, Lira, and Weller hesitated under the pressure, offering awkward smiles.
"Mmh..."
"Huh...?"
"Oh..."
"H-How is it? The taste...?"
Vivian gripped the hem of her skirt, her knuckles white. That look—a volatile cocktail of anxiety, hope, and dread—suggested she might burst into tears on the spot if she heard a single negative remark.
"Wait, this is actually delicious. I'm serious."
"It is far too exceptional to be called your first attempt, Lady Vivian."
"It really is good! Honestly, it's way better than the knighthood's rations!"
"Mm... To think I would eat something so luxurious while camping..."
Praise flowed in turn from Weller, Muriel, Lira, and Rebecca. While there was undoubtedly a bit of polite exaggeration involved, it was more or less the reaction I had anticipated. It was remarkably difficult to ruin a dish as foolproof as cream stew, and with such an excessive heap of rich ingredients tossed in, it was practically guaranteed to taste good.
"R-Really...?"
"Of course. If you don't believe them, try it yourself."
"Th-Then, let's see..."
Vivian ladled a small portion into her own bowl and took a hesitant sip.
"...! Woah! It really is! It's delicious!"
"See? Splendid work, Vivian."
"Brother!"
"Yeah, yeah. You nailed it. Congratulations."
When I held up an open palm, she smacked it with an enthusiastic high five. Clap!
"It's all thanks to you, Brother!"
"I only gave you the directions. You handled most of the cooking with your own two hands, so it's entirely fair to call this your own masterpiece."
"My masterpiece...!"
Seeing her bounce on her heels with sparkling eyes, I couldn't help but smile.
After wrapping up a thoroughly satisfying meal, it was time to prepare for sleep.
I slipped away from the camp alongside Stanashila Weller, the two of us strolling into the cool night air.
"Sister, how long do you plan on walking? I'm getting sleepy, so let's get down to business. *Yaaawn~*"
A bizarre, heavy drowsiness was weighing on my eyelids. Was it fatigue accumulated from an unaccustomed carriage ride?
"You really are a man without an ounce of elegance. Haah... Fine. I'll ask you just one thing."
Still clad in her extravagant dress, she spun around, her piercing red eyes locking directly onto mine.
"Just what are you planning to do by enchanting Vivian like that?"
"'Enchanting' is a bit harsh, sister. Let's call it building brotherly affection."
"Call it whatever you like. What's your real objective?"
"Hmm."
I studied her expression for a second before deciding to lay my cards on the table.
"I figured once we're close enough, I could use her for something."
"...Use her? How could you possibly use a child who is still so young and powerless?"
"Not right now, obviously. Later. She'll have her uses."
"You talk as if you already know the future."
"I don't know the damn future. I just happen to know a few things."
"......"
Contrary to my expectation that she would erupt like an active volcano, Weller merely scrutinized me with cool, calculating eyes.
"Is that all?"
"That's all."
"Is that so? Hmm... As long as you don't harbor any bizarre intentions, that's fine."
"...You aren't going to stop me or step in? I just told you I plan on using Vivian."
"I see no reason to. In noble society, that sort of thing is commonplace, ordinary, and entirely natural."
"......"
God, I had no desire to belong to a society like that. My decision to loathe and avoid balls and banquets had definitely been the right call.
"Even so, this feels off... Aren't you the one plotting something here, sister?"
"Who knows? That's a secret."
"Hey, I answered you completely honestly. Isn't that a bit much?"
"Who asked you to answer so readily? Still, I'll give you credit for being straightforward enough to disarm my suspicion."
"......"
"The night air is cold. My curiosity is satisfied, so let's head back."
"Selfish as always."
"Hearing that from you is utterly breathtaking. Ah, and either stick to formal speech or speak casually. Pick one and stick with it; it's getting on my nerves."
Leaving those words behind, she turned on her heel and strode back toward the camp without a backward glance.
"......"
I lingered for a bit, tipping the bottle back to drain the dregs of my liquor. Once it ran dry, I stumbled back toward camp on heavy, swaying feet.
For some reason, the drowsiness was completely impossible to resist.
The following morning, I woke up to the single most refreshing dawn I had experienced since arriving in this world. There was no cold sweat clinging to my skin, nor did my muscles ache with their usual stiffness.
What the hell? Was carriage travel actually my true calling or something?