First Disciple, Iris
I awkwardly pulled my hand back and jumped down from the wagon.
I always wanted to be a kind and affectionate mentor to my disciples, so I approached Iris—who wasn't much younger than me—with an easy smile and a casual greeting.
"Long time no see, Iris. You doing okay?"
"Yes, Master. It's been a while."
Iris bowed her head politely with her usual stoic expression. Short, blunt responses without any fluff—straightforward and courteous, just like always.
I gently took my sister's hand, who was hesitating behind me, and led her forward.
"This is the person who's going to be living with us from now on."
"Hello. I'm Marina. Nice to meet you..."
Iris's cat-like eyes swept over my sister once, then she replied in a calm voice.
"Yes, ma'am. I'm Iris, Master's first disciple."
"M-Ma'am?! No, that's not...!"
My sister freaked out at the sudden title and waved her hands frantically. Iris barely acknowledged her protests, just staring at me intently without a word. That inscrutable gaze lingered on my face for a moment before she bowed politely again.
"I'll take care of the wagon."
With that, she expertly grabbed the horse's reins and headed toward the back of the mansion. Watching her retreating figure, I glanced down at my dazed sister and chuckled.
"Sis, you're gonna be meeting a lot more people from now on. Might as well decide how to introduce yourself while we're at it."
"Can't I just say guest...?"
"Guest sounds too cold. I'll just say you're my woman."
"Okay... your woman..."
My sister nodded shyly, her voice soft.
That was when it happened.
'Hey. First disciple doesn't mean bed warmer, right?'
'What the hell are you talking about?'
'That Iris girl earlier—she's a resonance target, isn't she?'
'Iris? No way. Like I said, she's always so stoic and respectful around me.'
'I'm a holy sword that's lived for centuries. I've never been wrong about resonance energy.'
I snorted in disbelief. What nonsense. Iris as a resonance target? Impossible. She must be so ancient that her detection skills glitched out.
Click.
The mansion door opened, and as we stepped into the spacious first floor, a middle-aged butler in crisp attire and a line of maids bowed in unison—they must have been waiting after hearing the news.
"Welcome home, sir."
They greeted us politely and reached for the luggage in my hands, but I waved them off lightly.
"I'm fine. Just take sis's stuff and put it in the room right next to my bedroom."
At my order, a maid swiftly grabbed my sister's bags and headed up the stairs to the second floor. Then, a middle-aged man who'd been waiting in the back approached and bowed deeply. It was Norman, the butler in charge of this massive mansion and the entire Garden of Salvation household.
"I hope you've been well, Master."
"Yeah. You too, Norman?"
"Yes. I happened to overhear your conversation with Lady Iris outside just now."
Norman continued with a gentle smile on his refined face.
"Since you've declared her your woman yourself, I'll ensure all the staff in the garden treat Lady Marina with the utmost respect, as if she were the lady of the house."
Classic Norman. No need for me to spell it out—he got it right away, sharp as ever.
"Wha—wait! You don't have to go that far...!"
My sister waved her hands again, but Norman was a pro. He glanced at her weary from the long journey and turned to another maid nearby.
"Lady Marina must be exhausted. Escort her to her room at once and prepare a warm bath."
"Yes, sir. This way, Lady Marina."
In an instant, my sister was under escort. She kept glancing at me nervously until I nodded, then she finally followed the maid up the stairs with hesitant steps.
"Would you like to wash up right away too, Master? I've had the bath heated."
"Nah, I'm good. Just need to brush off some dust. More importantly..."
I cracked my neck and looked at Norman.
"Anything urgent while I was gone?"
Norman, who was usually flawless, rarely frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose with a tired look.
"Actually... there's a tiny crack in the northern barrier covering the entire garden."
"The barrier? Isn't that what I brought Sylvia here to handle? What the hell's she doing?"
"Well... she's been lying in her room for days, saying 'the World Tree commands me to rest.'"
Here we go again. Sylvia, the elf I picked up from the elf forest back in the day. A genius mage, but she poured all that talent into figuring out how to slack off. Hopeless lazybones.
"Thanks for holding down the fort. Go rest, butler."
I patted Norman's shoulder and turned around.
"Bet she had a blast slacking off while I was away. Room's probably in the corner of the third floor, right?"
I strode up the stairs and flung open the door to Sylvia's room in the third-floor corner without knocking.
"Hey. You still sleeping?"
No answer. The room was a total mess. Sylvia, in her baggy pajamas, was sprawled on the bed under the covers, with snack wrappers littering the floor. Up close, I saw she'd stuffed earplugs in and was munching cookies while buried in a romance novel. No wonder she didn't notice me.
I kicked at the annoying wiggling butt peeking out as she lay face-down.
Thwack!
"Kyaa! Who is it?!"
Sylvia flipped over in shock, yanking out her earplugs irritably. But the moment she saw me, the annoyance vanished, replaced by a fawning grin.
"Oh? Hero's back? Hehe, when'd you get here..."
She quickly hid the novel behind her and offered me a cookie from her bag.
"Want one?"
"..."
Her shameless attitude left me speechless, but cookies were innocent, so I snatched one and popped it in my mouth.
"What the hell are you doing? Didn't you hear about the barrier crack?"
"Psh. A little crack like that? It's not collapsing anytime soon. It's fine, fine..."
Smack!
This time with my palm. I smacked her excusing butt hard.
"Ow!! Violence is bad! Stop abusing fragile elves!"
"Fragile my ass. Barrier's cracked and you're fine with that? Get out there and fix it."
"Okay, okay! Lemme finish this page and I'll do it later..."
Sylvia pouted and tried to burrow back under the covers.
"Later? Sure, do it later. But before that, I bet a messenger pigeon to your mom beats you to it."
"...?"
At "messenger pigeon," Sylvia's long ears perked straight up.
"Eek! Fine, fine! You're so mean! I'm going! You petty hero tattling to my mom like a kid?!"
She brushed crumbs off her head, grabbed her staff with a pouty face, and bolted out the door.
Tsk. No idea how long this trick would work, but Sylvia clearly feared and dreaded her mother, Meriel, big time.
'What? Her mom's nearby? Thought she was in the World Tree forest?'
She's freaking out and running like hell.
Ria asked from my waist, sounding baffled. I kicked the romance novel on the floor into a corner.
'Right? But Meriel's always so elegant and graceful around me... I don't get why she's that terrified.'
**
Dinner time rolled around, and I headed down to the first-floor dining room. I took a seat first at the large, ordinary table perfect for eight people sitting around—no head seat or anything fancy.
Soon the door opened, and the others trickled in. Sylvia came in first, grumbling immediately.
"Who hits a delicate elf's butt that hard? It still stings!"
"You fix the barrier properly?"
"Yeah, I checked everywhere else too, just in case."
"Good. If you'd done it sooner like I told you, your ass wouldn't be burning."
As Sylvia rubbed her butt and grumbled, Marina sis, old man Bans, and Iris filled the remaining seats one by one.
Once everyone was seated, butler Norman approached and began serving the gourmet dishes. Thick grilled meats and mouthwatering plates were set out.
"Let's eat."
As the household dug in familiarly, my sister next to me was the only one frozen, hands still. Looking closer, she was staring at the fancy silver tongs, thin long fork, and the shellfish dish with its thick shell.
I silently pulled her plate over, cracked the tough shell with practiced tools, neatly extracted the plump meat, sliced it thin with a knife, and pushed back a plate of perfectly bite-sized white chunks.
"Dig in, sis."
"Thanks... Sian."
Bans across from us stroked his beard and let out a hearty "Hoho!" of approval. Meanwhile, Sylvia stuffed her cheeks with meat and complained.
"Ugh, so unfair. You've never done that for me once."
"No tenderloin for lazy freeloaders ignoring barrier cracks. Be grateful I didn't make you chew the shell."
"I fixed it! I did!"
I sipped my wine amid Sylvia's whining. And diagonally across sat my first disciple, Iris. As always, back straight, face impassive, silently focused on her own meal.
Iris as my resonance target. Iris was originally the lady of a fallen earl's family. A fierce one who'd abandoned her noble status to dive into the muddy mercenary world, vowing to cut down the demon who wiped out her house. But reality was harsh.