Younger Sibling
After descending from the Kaine Mountain Range and receiving treatment.
My injuries had been quite severe, so I stayed in the treatment room for a few days to recuperate—and to keep a close eye on the wolf cub's condition as well.
“What does this little one eat, though?”
“Got any milk? If we warm it up, that should do the trick.”
“Hmm, let me fetch some.”
Truth be told, I was sturdy enough that my own recovery took a backseat; most of my attention went to the cub now called Whitey.
Born in the wild without parents, figuring out how to care for it was a puzzle from the start.
“Oh… it’s eating well.”
“Yeah. This should tide it over for now.”
The good news was that Whitey seemed pretty resilient itself.
Left alone, it wriggled energetically, and it took to the milk without fuss.
“It’s really cute, though…”
“It is, isn’t it.”
With its snowy white fur and lively movements, yeah, it was adorable.
No wonder the healer couldn’t take her eyes off it while feeding the milk.
More importantly…
“Did you bring the pouch?”
“Yes, here’s the basket.”
It took a few days of rest before I could retrieve the pouch of monster materials.
They were in decent shape.
Most were bones or teeth anyway, so a few days wouldn’t spoil them.
I’d cleaned off the blood and flesh pretty thoroughly during extraction.
“I’ll be right back, then.”
“...You’d better not go anywhere else. Straight there and back.”
“Come on, do I look like a kid?”
“That line doesn’t work anymore.”
“Haha.”
Still, it was best to handle it quickly, so after some persuasion, the healer reluctantly approved my outing—on the condition that I take it easy.
“I’ll be back.”
“Take care!”
And so, pouch secured at my waist, I stepped out of the treatment room for the first time in ages.
From the mansion, I headed straight to the upscale commercial district.
By the time I reached Gareth’s Smithy, it was bustling even in the morning, just like always.
Not that I hadn’t tried one of Gareth’s blades myself by now.
I got why people lined up like that.
The difference of a single sword could tip the scales in battle more often than not.
So.
I watched the crowd for a moment, then gathered my Aura.
Body wasn’t fully recovered, so I moved with care not to strain anything.
Thud!
I leaped just high enough to grab the terrace railing, swung onto the balcony, and knocked on the window.
The curtains parted, and the window swung open.
“Welcome.”
“Ah, yes. I’ve brought the materials.”
“I’ll escort you to Master Gareth.”
The female attendant led me inside, where the familiar clang of hammer on metal echoed once more.
Clang! Clang!
Gareth hadn’t changed since my last visit; he was hard at work, pounding away at a piece of steel.
“Ah, you’re early.”
This time, he spotted me, paused his hammering, and stood.
“Let’s see what you’ve brought, then.”
“Quite a lot.”
I handed over the pouch as I spoke.
“Hoo.”
Gareth took it, peered inside, and let out a low whistle of admiration.
“You hunted all these?”
“No, not personally.”
“Hm?”
“There was a territorial dispute up in the high peaks. I took down the victor and harvested from the corpses.”
Too much detail to explain fully, so I kept it brief.
A heavy edit, but not inaccurate.
“Territorial dispute? All these monsters?”
Gareth pulled out the materials one by one for inspection—each from beasts that held firm domains in the highlands.
No wonder he was impressed.
“More precisely, one monster came and wiped them all out.”
“What kind?”
“A wolf-type, bigger than your average giant wolf.”
In my mind, that alpha wolf must have shattered the balance.
No idea why, but it showed up one day and slaughtered the rest.
“Heh, and you took down a beast like that?”
“It was injured. Plus, I had the sword I borrowed from you.”
“You earned it.”
Gareth eyed me closely as he spoke.
“Looks like it beat the tar out of you.”
“...Not quite. It was a tough fight, though.”
Truly grueling.
Without the buff coat or Gareth’s sword, who knows how it would’ve ended.
But I’d won, and here I was.
“Anyway, good work. You brought more than enough—how do you want to handle the excess?”
“Do you buy materials here?”
“Of course. Full market price.”
“Then please do.”
Too much hassle to deal with myself anyway.
Might as well let the smithy handle it.
“Wait here a moment.”
Gareth called over a staff member for a quick word, then handed me a pouch brimming with silver coins.
“This enough?”
“Yes, plenty.”
No clue on exact rates, so I tucked it away at my belt.
Money wasn’t urgent, but it never hurt to have.
“I’ll be off, then.”
“At this rate, I’ll have your sword ready soon.”
Out of the smithy.
Next, the mercenary guild, where I asked the clerk I’d shown my seal to before to relay word of my survival to Jeban.
“T-to Jeban?”
“Yeah. ‘He’s alive’ should clue him in.”
“Understood.”
Her expression said she’d deliver faithfully.
Just in case, I slipped her a silver coin.
Proper incentive for a message like that.
With errands done, I returned straight to the mansion as promised.
But.
“Rowell?”
A familiar back greeted me in the treatment room.
“Ah, you’ve returned.”
Rowell was there, examining Whitey alongside the healer.
“How is your body faring, young master?”
“Much better now. It’s been a while.”
“Indeed, I had some business these past few days.”
Hadn’t seen him since coming down from the mountains—likely away on a trip while I was unconscious.
“I heard it was quite the ordeal.”
“It was wounded itself, but still put up a hell of a fight.”
“Must have been formidable.”
“Ah, about that…”
Perfect timing with Rowell here.
I told him about the oddity I’d sensed battling the alpha wolf.
“Something like Aura?”
“Yes, and it wielded it with surprising familiarity.”
That raw energy.
The instincts were beastly enough, but that power? A total mystery.
“Hm. Sounds like beast veins.”
“Beast veins?”
“Yes. Similar to Aura, but a more primal, natural force. Beastmen warriors typically wield it, but…”
Rowell glanced down at Whitey.
“Occasionally, spiritual beasts do as well.”
“So Whitey’s a Spiritual Beast?”
“High likelihood. Retaining its animal form without other traits points that way.”
“Hmm…”
A Spiritual Beast?
Skeptical, I lifted Whitey for a closer look.
Its eyes barely open, a bit of snot dripping from its nose—utterly pathetic.
“Do spiritual beasts grow slowly?”
“Quite the opposite until maturity. In a year, it’ll likely reach full wolf size.”
“Whoa… hard to picture.”
A year to that size?
Even accounting for animals maturing faster than humans, astonishing.
“But is it really okay raising it here in the mansion?”
All good, but one worry lingered.
“That alpha wolf makes it seem risky.”
It was a wolf, after all.
I’d heard even imprinted ones retained wild instincts.
“If it’s a spiritual beast, no concern there. High intelligence.”
“Glad to hear it.”
True, the alpha had seemed sharp.
With proper training, it’d be fine.
“If needed, we can fetch a master wolf tamer from the North.”
“Wolf tamers in the North?”
“Yes. Pet wolves are hugely popular there—plenty of experts.”
“I see…”
The capital’s top noble keeps people like dogs, while the North breeds wolves in every home.
This kingdom had its quirks.
“In any case, care for it well. A spiritual beast as a younger sibling is rare indeed.”
“...It’s not actually my sibling.”
The healer too—why “younger sibling”?
Still, a Spiritual Beast… exciting prospect.
Wonder if it’ll grow big enough to ride.
“First things first, I’ll have the staff build it a proper house.”
Anyway.
True to Rowell’s word, Whitey soon had its own kennel…
“This is really okay?”
“It’s still young. You’ll manage.”
…plopped right next to my quarters, with a hole connecting the two.
Like adding an extra room to my place.
“The young miss will be shocked. Two dogs in the mansion while she was away.”
Rowell remarked as Whitey wriggled into its new home.
That hit me.
“When’s the young miss coming back?”
“Likely next weekend.”
Come to think of it.
She’d finished settling into school by now; time for a visit home.
Just a few weeks away, but the emptiness had felt vast.
I looked forward to her return.