Reward
When I opened my eyes, a white ceiling came into view.
A stifling pressure weighed on my body, and when I glanced down, I saw bandages wrapped around me from head to toe.
The infirmary?
More importantly, I'm alive.
I briefly recalled my last memory.
The assaulted mansion.
The battle with the Aura user leading the masked intruders.
The chaotic brawl amid the burning estate.
And then, spotting the young lady and her guard knight before collapsing.
"...You're awake, it seems."
"...Already...?"
"Are you conscious?"
"Yeah, I am."
"Eek!"
As I answered and sat up, a woman in a white robe jumped in surprise.
"You can't get up! Absolute bed rest!"
"I'm pretty sturdy, so I'm fine."
I couldn't afford to laze around over something like this.
I stretched lightly and surveyed the room.
It was a fine infirmary—top-notch, by the look of it. The presence of what seemed to be a healer right in front of me was proof enough.
And beside her...
"Rowell."
"You've risen, I see."
Rowell stood there, his arm bandaged.
"Ah, so... it's all over?"
"Indeed. Thanks to you, we repelled them magnificently."
So we did hold them off.
Those bastards had come prepared, but I'd thoroughly shat on their plans.
Their remnants—or whatever they were—must be grinding their teeth in rage.
"Where are we, exactly?"
"The Boyd estate."
"...It didn't burn down?"
"Think of it as the family head's other villa."
"Ah, I see."
"I see."
Not the main residence, but they had two estates? Well, it wasn't surprising anymore.
"That on your arm—is it injured?"
"Yes. I moved hastily."
"Heh."
Even that monster gets hurt.
I'd love to have seen the face of whoever did that.
"So, what happened? I should know the details at this point."
I hadn't asked before, pretending disinterest.
But this time, I needed answers.
I didn't care about the thieves' identities, but these coordinate-stalking terrorists? Yeah, that piqued my curiosity.
"One moment, if you please."
"Ah, yes...!"
Rowell, intending to explain, dismissed the healer first.
"Hm. To start, they were indeed remnants of the Lugar Kingdom."
"Remnants? There were a lot of them."
All those swarming hordes were just remnants?
No way.
How did they even infiltrate the capital? Where had they been hiding?
That many people—shelter, food, basics would be a nightmare.
"...Most of the masked intruders weren't remnants. They were from another organization in league with them."
"In league?"
"Yes. We suspect Demon Worshippers."
"Uh...?"
Demon Worshippers?
"...What's that?"
What the hell?
Some cult?
"...You don't know of the Demon Worshippers?"
"No."
"You know demons exist, yes?"
"...They do? Scary stuff."
Demons are real?
Well... in a world with magic and Aura, it wasn't implausible.
"Where to even begin explaining."
Realizing my ignorance, Rowell closed his eyes briefly, choosing his words.
"No need for details yet—just give me the gist: who they are and why they allied."
"Hm. Likely, the Demon Worshippers reached out first."
"What do they even do to make overtures like that?"
"They seek to connect Hell and the surface, summoning demons."
"Uh...?"
These guys are insane?
Why open a Hell portal on a perfectly fine world?
"Is that even possible?"
"We don't know. But they've existed since ancient times."
"Jeez."
What weirdos.
"Anyway, where'd they pop up from?"
More like, how'd they reach a capital mansion?
Did they have apartments here or something?
They didn't drop from the sky or burrow up, right?
"Likely tunneled up from underground."
"...Literally from the earth?"
"Demon Worshippers dwell in deep underground tunnels."
"Even in the capital region?"
"Yes."
"...Magic can't detect them?"
What's the point of magic, then?
It can't track pursuits or detect them.
All it's good for is hurling fireballs that torch mansions... actually, not bad.
"They burrow too deep for ordinary magic."
"How deep?"
"Impossibly so—beyond prediction."
"How?!"
Even in my past life, deep tunneling was no joke.
What tricks do these freaks have?
"Demons' aid, no doubt."
"Demons are good diggers?"
"They've sought to link Hell and the surface since antiquity. No one rivals them there."
"What's Hell got to do with tunnels?"
Does proximity make gates easier?
Seeing my confusion, Rowell added hastily.
"Obviously, since Hell lies deep beneath the earth."
"Huh?"
No way.
Hell is underground?
That's creepy.
"Childhood fairy tales... Never mind."
"Yeah, well, if I'd had parents reading me stories, I wouldn't have ended up a gladiator slave."
No basic education at all.
Hence my gaps in common knowledge.
"In any case, Demon Worshippers live deep in tunnels."
"And this time, they surfaced in the capital to attack?"
"Precisely."
Damn...
"Then the previous masked intruders too?"
"Yes. Demon Worshippers."
"...May I ask why they target us?"
Why do Demon Worshippers go after the Boyd family?
Actually, not the family.
More precisely...
"They're after the young lady."
Right. The young lady.
"Ah. Got it."
That explained it—no need for more questions.
Those eerily glowing red eyes of hers.
Demon Worshippers would go mad with desire for them, no doubt.
Hence the targeting.
Anyway.
I had the full picture.
Lugar remnants wanted to terrorize the Boyds; Demon Worshippers wanted to kidnap the lady. Natural alliance.
But they failed spectacularly.
Oh well...
"More importantly, you've earned merits. Time for your reward."
In the end, I was the only winner here.
"Can you teach me your secret techniques?"
That was my sole desire.
The Boyd family's secret arts—the pinnacle of this nation's nobility.
That's what I'd gone all-in for.
"Of course. The family head has already approved."
"Already?"
"Given the circumstances, we exchanged messages promptly."
Fair enough.
His daughter's residence attacked and burned to the ground?
I'd have called immediately too.
"Shall we start learning right away?"
Great—I could finally get the techniques.
As I moved to rise...
"...Rest first."
"I'm fine."
"I must handle cleanup regardless. It will take time."
"Hm, understood."
Nothing for it.
I settled back on the medical bed obediently.
"Oh, and."
"Yes."
"Could you relay a message to the young lady about improving my status? Can't be a dog forever."
"Is that feasible?"
She'd probably flat-out refuse.
"I'll persuade her."
"And if it works, what then?"
"An Aura user learning family techniques? Naturally, you'd become a Boyd knight."
"Oh...?"
I'd racked up some serious merits.
From guard dog to official Boyd knight.
"Then..."
A chance at status elevation—of course I'd say yes...
"Hm, uh..."
...Or not.
Those red eyes flashed in my mind—the ones that had kept me a dog.
Eyes even Demon Worshippers coveted.
They weren't there for nothing.
And honestly, with all the techniques handed over, why bother knighthood?
I already ate well, trained freely.
No duties, no responsibilities.
Lounging in the yard, photosynthesizing, occasionally tending the lady and training.
Compared to gladiator days, it was paradise.
Plus, learning secrets—I wouldn't be disdained.
I'd seen the guards' friendly gazes during the fight.
So...
"No. I'm good as is."
"Truly?"
"Yes. Dog's fine."
I'll keep playing pet a bit longer.
"What..."
"Just a hunch."
"Heh, very well."
Besides, it didn't feel like my last shot.
Plenty more chances to ditch the dog life later.
"Take care of yourself."
"Yes. Good luck with cleanup."
After that, I received more treatment.
"Absolutely no moving!"
"Ah, yes. Aura training's okay, right?"
"No!!"
The overzealous healer wore me out a bit.
But my body improved daily.
"These rare herbs... first time handling them."
"Really?"
"Yes..."
Thanks to the Boyd's premium meds.
Insanely expensive, apparently. Just give cash next time.
"Eh...? The wounds are already..."
"I heal fast."
Anyway.
With such intensive care synergizing my natural recovery, wounds closed rapidly.
Slashes knit, stab holes sealed.
Time passed.
Scars formed; the healer's fussing ceased.
"All done! You're fully healed!"
"Phew, finally?"
Full recovery declared.
...I'd been fine three days prior, by my standards.
Overkill.
Anyway.
Only after clearance for normal activity could I escape the damn infirmary.
"Puppy!!"
The first to find me was the young lady, beaming ear to ear.
"Long time no see!"
"Yes, indeed, young lady."
Post-incident, she'd stayed briefly at the palace before returning here once Rowell's arm healed.
Safer than the estate, for sure.
"Home! New home built!"
"Oh, a house?"
"Yep! Good boy, so nice spot!"
Nice spot?
No prior heads-up, so expectations soared.
Still a dog, and she took me outside—probably yard-bound.
A shack, maybe? Plausible, given the estate's scale.
We reached the garden.
"...This is my house?"
"Yes!"
I chuckled dryly at the enlarged doghouse.
Better treatment, I guess?
"I'll settle in well."
"Yep! Cushions all fluffy inside! Snacks too!"
"Oh, such honor."
Fine—I'd turned down Rowell's offer.
Accept humbly.
Anyway.
New digs received, I inspected them.
"Puppy!"
The lady called from behind.
"Listening."
"I-I showed you the house, so now I go to class!"
"Ah, yes. Have fun."
"D-don't go anywhere...? I'll be quick!"
"Pardon?"
"D-don't vanish! Stay here!"
"Ah, sure, sure."
Stay put, huh.
Missing me that much?
I checked her eyes, just in case.
Hm, no glow.
Just normal whiny lady mode.
"Understood."
"Yep! Be back!"
She finally left, fidgeting to the end.
I examined the new house thoroughly.
Squished the plush cushions—satisfying.
Munched a snack "cookie," looked around.
Higher ceiling now.
Could stand inside.
Dog toys scattered about.
And...
"Hm."
The collar lost in the attack—replaced, pristine, on one side.
Really wear this? At my age?
Sighed, tried it on.
But...
"Huh?"
No hindrance to Aura flow.
Ah, not shackles—just a regular collar?
...Relieved or insulted?
A grown man leashed in a doghouse.
"...What are you doing there."
"Ah."
Snapped out of it; footsteps approached.
"Rowell?"
"I replaced it so the young lady wouldn't be upset... Suits your taste, I see."
"You know that's not it."
"Enough. We begin today."
"What—ah."
Right, I'd forgotten amid the haze.
The main event.
"Young lady's class same time as mine?"
"Yes. Time enough for training."
"Perfect."
She said stay, but...
A dog's got its own life.
"Let's go."
The moment I'd awaited.
Real reward time.