Dawn Negotiations with Filoria
Knock knock knock! My consciousness, sunk deep in sleep, gets dragged back to the surface.
"Smith. Sorry to wake you so early."
"No... ahem!Ahem! No problem!"
I clear my gravelly throat with a bit more drama than necessary and sit up in bed.
"What's going on? It's still the crack of dawn..."
"Someone dispatched from the Filoria count's family is waiting for you at the guard post."
"Shit."
No time to stand around dazed. I fling open the wardrobe and throw on some clothes in a rush.
"On my way!"
I dash for the door, tying my pants on the fly. Perfect timing—I knot the strings and yank the door open, stepping into the hall.
Giena stands there in her human form, a full quiver of arrows slung over one shoulder, my gifted Comforting Bow in her hand, waiting for me.
"They seemed pretty urgent over there... but would you at least grab a quick bite first?"
"Nah, I'm good. We can pick something up on the way back... though it's a bit early for that with Giena."
I scratch my head, eyeing the dim blue streets visible through the window.
"Let's just go. Eat when we get back."
"Right."
I fall in step behind Giena. Down on the first floor, a noticeably emptier sword rack greets us.
Yeah. This isn't the guild anymore—it's the newly rebuilt Kernax's house, and I've been crashing here for ten days straight already.
The very day Bellanis stopped by, we got approval to use the restored place. Giena and I packed up from the guild and moved right in.
Amelia sis seemed relieved when I told her—probably felt bad about not checking on me lately with how busy she's been.
"The weather's getting nice and warm now."
"Sure is. Just last week, it was still chilly at this hour."
We step out onto streets without magical lanterns yet. North Street's reconstruction is in the final stretch—Siron, pissed as hell, said it'd wrap up in another three days.
She's the one praying hardest for it to finish quick, but honestly, I'm even more desperate than her. I know it.
Ever since Bellanis delivered the Demon Realm truce news that day, Kernax has been off reconstruction duty. But she hasn't come home once.
She's busier than ever—patrolling walls day and night, personally re-verifying IDs of everyone in the city without citizenship.
And Siron? Does she come home? Nope. For some reason, even with Kernax's house fixed, she's still crashing in the guard captain's office.
Bottom line: ten days in this house, and I'm still sleeping solo.
Back when I was a total newbie with women, my hand got the job done fine. But now that I've tasted Siron, Kernax, and a bunch of others, my dick's gotten cocky—won't settle for a handjob anymore, the ungrateful bastard.
Meanwhile, Giena's skin still glows like she's fresh out of a spa, getting her nightly zziiing of comfort from the bow I gave her. Looks like she's having a blast.
Clueless about my suffering. Those muffled moans echoing down the hall every night? They're really testing my patience—great training, though.
What a fucking nightmare.
Anyway, that's why I'm the one dying for reconstruction to end ASAP.
Clank. Clank.
Guard soldiers in greaves march past us, sharp and alert.
Normally, we'd chat and joke, but since the Demon Realm truce news broke, it's been nonstop like this.
Honestly, it threw me at first—super unexpected and kinda weird. These guys, always goofing off, pranking their boss Kernax, getting smacked and running? Now they're all stone-faced, patrolling quietly like pros.
Can't blame a guy for feeling off about it.
We pass a few more patrol groups before reaching the east gate.
"Cargo headed to Dekal wouldn't come through here, right?"
"Well... rumors say bandits have set up in the Dortan Mountains lately."
"Got it. So no issues with the cargo—mind if we check it anyway?"
"O-of course."
"Inspect every wagon!!"
The east gate's wide open even at this hour, a long line of people waiting to enter or pass through Molingta.
Soldiers have ditched their casual vibe—if anything looks shady, they're ready to skewer you with those gripped spears, checking folks one by one.
Giena and I slip quietly into the guard building without help, heading straight for Kernax's office.
Knock knock knock.
A light tap.
"Who is it?"
Kernax's voice comes out stiff and formal. She wasn't even this rigid when we first met.
"It's me. Smith."
"Ah... ahem. Come in."
Her tone softens for a split second, then snaps back to rigid as she invites us.
I open the door. First thing I see: Kernax at her desk, quill in hand. Next: Siron, crashed out on the guest sofa like she owns the world.
I sidle up to sleeping Siron and gently poke her cheek.
"They said someone was looking for me. Should I head somewhere else?"
"No. They'll be here soon. Too many eyes—can't come straight in."
"Huh? They're still outside the city?"
"Well... they've entered, but anyway. Sit and wait."
Kernax gives a wry smile and dives back into her papers.
I wipe a bit of drool from Siron's mouth with my sleeve, then sneak up to Kernax's desk while she's working.
"...What?"
She looks up as my shadow falls over her papers. I lean in and plant a light kiss on her lips.
"...Ah."
"When you coming home?"
"Well... mmph."
She opens her mouth to speak, so I kiss her again. This time, tongues—deeper, hotter.
"You'll come home with Siron once reconstruction's done, right?"
"...Yeah... haa. Yeah. Promise."
Her stiff face cracks with a sigh and a soft smile.
Kernax sets down her quill, grabs my hand from the desk, and pulls it to her face. She kisses my knuckles lightly, sniffing delicately.
"Smith... this kind of affection... it makes me so happy. But for now—at least in public—could you hold off a bit?"
"Yeah, I get it. You just seemed extra tense today."
"...Thanks."
She gives my hand one last, lingering kiss before letting go.
"Sit and wait."
"Will do."
I lift Siron's head gently, settle it on my thigh, and plop onto the sofa. Kernax picks up her quill again, scribbling away.
I stroke Siron's hair to pass the time. Not long after, someone knocks.
Kernax glances up from her work, nods at Giena—who's standing like a doll behind me.
Giena glides silently to the door and opens it.
"Come in."
"Ah, thank you."
A hooded woman enters with Giena. Kernax points to the sofa opposite me with her free hand.
"Sit there. We can talk."
"Very well."
The woman sits across from me and pulls back her hood. Light brown hair neatly tied back, calm demeanor. What catches my eye: the round monocle over her right eye.
First I've seen in this world—super eye-catching.
"Nice to meet you. No intro needed, but you're Smith, right?"
"Y-yeah. Smith from the Adventurer's Guild."
"I'm Millia, administrative officer managing the territory for Lord Filoria. Just call me Administrator."
"Ah, yep. Administrator."
Doesn't match her gentle face at all—this woman's way up the chain. I swallow hard.
But... is it cool to chat in this vibe? Kernax is casually working, Siron's head on my lap snoring away, Giena looming behind me with her bow.
Looks like we're ganging up on a powerless admin... bad optics.
Just my paranoid ass, though—the Administrator doesn't seem fazed.
"Smith?"
"Y-yes."
"Haha, no need to be tense."
"Yep."
Big shots telling you to relax always makes it worse. They never get that.
"I've heard the basics from the lord and Ardella, so let's skip to the point."
She adjusts her monocle with one hand, supporting her underbust with the other.
"First, contract tweak. Originally, iron ingots monthly for goods in return. Changing to: pay per ingot delivery, produce as many goods as fast as possible."
"Uh..."
"Also, the 102 gold nyang—30% discount for reconstruction—we'll cover it."
"I'll work my bones to dust!"
No-brainer. Not like I'm forging by hand—feed in materials, click a few times, copy-paste. What's to think about?
"Love the enthusiasm. But priority one: your health. Do your best within sustainable limits."
"Don't worry. I'm twice as tough as the average guy."
"Haha, yes. You look it."
She smiles softly as I flex my pumped arms. Feels like showing off to a big sis—kinda embarrassing. I clear my throat and pet Siron's head again.
"Oh, and—"
As the Administrator starts to speak, a blue glow ripples from her bosom.
"Excuse me a moment."
She smiles, slips a hand into her ample cleavage, and pulls out a sparkling small crystal orb.
Familiar motions—she fiddles with it.
"Administrator."
"Yes, my lord. Administrator Millia here. Just arrived in Molingta, mid-talk with Smith."
The orb chimes with a crystal-clear voice. She calls the woman inside "my lord."
Have I met this lord? No way. So why does the voice ring a bell?
"Perfect. Kernax there too?"
"Yes. Diligently at work, hearing every word."
"Good. Kernax."
That voice... definitely familiar. Just a little more digging in my memory...
"Move the soldiers."
"...?"
I doubt my ears. Did I hear that right?
But the Administrator's hardened face confirms it. No mistake. No mistake at all.