Chapter 23
Chapter 23
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: The War Hero Becomes the Baron's Young Lady's Butler (6)
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In living life, there are four ways to make its difficulty level easier.
One. Being handsome, or...
Two. Being tall, or...
Three. Being pretty, or...
Four. Having large breasts, or...
Granted, they're all related to appearance, but it's undeniable that the closer one is to being a beauty, the lower their life's difficulty drops by at least a step or two.
'The saying that handsome people have it easy in life isn't just empty words.'
Separate from talk of lookism, even young children instinctively distinguish between the handsome and the pretty.
In that sense, this world—this medieval fantasy world I was born into—had one clear standard.
'Status and appearance are proportional.'
The higher the nobility, the greater the chance of exceptional beauty.
Was it that beautiful people had talent and rose to nobility, or did talented people take beautiful partners as spouses, mixing their genes into noble bloodlines?
Just looking at Grates Kingdom, Princess Sylvia was called the 'number one marriage prospect' by men from every country between the ages of 17 and 25.
Regardless of her personal abilities or her status as a princess—purely because of her beauty.
The same went for others.
In that era, beauty was the easiest path to belonging to the noble class.
Though the 12-year war made survival skills and combat prowess better ways to elevate one's status socially, even those people sought out beautiful partners after receiving their noble titles.
Marriages between nobles came with all sorts of conditions.
A family's wealth or bloodline were important factors in unions, of course, but appearance was something that could never be overlooked.
Not just the face—figure as well.
For noblewomen in particular, due to the perception of them as 'continuators of the family line,' even a duke's daughter might fail to marry if she had issues with childbirth.
As such, for the current Arsin Barony, having only the stepmother and her two daughters attend the party banquet in splendid dresses and jewels was an inevitable strategy for them.
Excluding Diela and sending only the baroness and her two daughters to the party was an essential choice for securing marriages.
Here.
'Even all three combined aren't a match for one of them—who would give a second glance to a woman with outsider blood?'
If Diela, their strategic nuke, wore a dress to the banquet hall, could Jasmine and Rosmarin possibly compete?
No way.
Diela's bust could stand toe-to-toe with Princess Sylvia's.
A size impossible to hide with ordinary dresses.
While others cinched corsets to narrow their waists, Diela would show an overwhelming contrast top and bottom even without one.
Her hips and body lines brimmed with feminine allure to boot—that beauty was the decisive reason I'd chosen to become Diela's butler in this barony.
So, what was the problem at hand?
"So, you're saying your breasts grew thanks to Sir Hans Wilhelm? To the point where your existing dresses no longer fit?"
"Yes. Embarrassing as it is, that's right."
Diela had dresses.
But her old ones had become far too small to contain the current her, she said.
Her nukes had naturally increased in payload, but the launch platform no longer fit, leaving her unable even to fire.
"Alterations won't work either. The difference is too great for that."
"What do you mean by 'thanks to Sir Hans Wilhelm'?"
"Oh, that. Well, it might sound strange."
Of course it did.
"Just to avoid any misunderstanding, Sir Hans Wilhelm didn't cast some blessing on me or anything like that. It's not like the great hero has... ahem, been with countless women."
"Is this something I shouldn't hear?"
"Not exactly, but it's a bit embarrassing."
"What is it?"
"Well."
Diela blushed but didn't shy away, apparently seeing me as someone she could seriously discuss her bust issues with.
"They say women who receive Sir Hans Wilhelm's 'mercy' all become beautiful, their feminine charms awakening."
"......Is that even possible?"
"It is, apparently. It's common knowledge that after several women Masters in the Empire received Sir Hans Wilhelm's mercy, they became the envy of Empire women everywhere—curves in all the right places, slim where it counts."
It wasn't wrong.
In the case of the Empire's assassins or other women I'd been with, awakening their latent femininity had led them to embrace it more fully.
'There are tales of him bestowing mana blessings too.'
A Grand Master's body naturally exuded potent mana, which could linger in the women he'd embraced, awakening them.
But I hadn't seen Diela before and thought creepily, 'When we meet later, I should try it once,' then provided some mana blessing to bulk her up, had I?
"Thanks to the atmosphere of peace Sir Hans Wilhelm created, I experienced rapid growth. You know about the 'Fire Dragon Mountains Defense Battle' from three years ago... well, you do, right?"
I knew it.
It was the battle where I'd taken down a bone dragon powered by the Empire's mana core, Pafnil, which I'd detonated while faking my disappearance and escape this time around.
"The Fire Dragon Mountains are close to this duchy. After Sir Wilhelm defended them, the Empire pulled back its forces from the duchy in droves. That was three years ago already."
"So, the outcome of that battle led to your growth, miss?"
"Yes. The mental stress from the ongoing war had been stunting my growth and development. And I'm not the only one—it's more common than you'd think. After hearing about the armistice agreement and feeling my mind settle, cases of growth spurts like height increases popped up too."
As much as I wanted to call it nonsense, it wasn't that strange.
People raised under oppressive conditions with mental strain often experience sudden growth when shifting to a free, comfortable environment—more often than one might think.
In fact, some nobles in Grates Kingdom had grown that way too.
Not to Diela's extent, though.
"So, your height increased, miss?"
"Mine grew here, specifically. Like my mother."
"Your mother?"
"Want to see?"
Diela opened a drawer and pulled out a framed picture.
"It's a family portrait from when I was three."
"......!"
Next to a little girl in a frilly dress.
Stood a noblewoman of tremendous—no, overwhelming—proportions, gripping Diela's hand and facing forward.
'I've never even handled that size!'
Overwhelming scale.
I felt Diela's sharp gaze for a moment, but this was a natural exclamation any human would make.
"Incredible... She must have been an amazing woman."
"Yes. Everyone said she was like the symbol of abundance in the Arsin Barony... to the point where I wondered if Father married her for her bust."
"Ahem."
The baron must have prized her maternal qualities above all when taking her as his wife—or so I'd think, since despite embracing countless women, I'd never touched one that size. Truly astounding.
"There was even a joke like that once. That I didn't grow to Mother's level because war stress stunted me. Ahaha."
"......."
War's horrors extended even here, who knew.
Her head and face were smallish, sure, but the daughter's head looked bigger proportionally—yet Mother's maternal assets appeared even grander. No illusion there.
"In that situation, when armistice talks started and the war showed signs of ending, I began eating properly in that peace and grew. It should've just been a matter of getting new dresses fitted...
Diela ran her hand over the baron's face in the photo with a bitter smile.
"But Father collapsed, and Mother is blocking me from getting new dresses."
"No way to ask her family or relatives for help?"
"There is one way."
Diela looked up at me.
"My mother was from the most powerful house in this duchy, the Glasion Marquisate. A collateral branch—I've heard the current Marquis Glasion is her half-brother."
"......."
"Yes. Exactly as you're thinking. No guarantee he'd help me unconditionally now. But I want to reach out anyway—like grasping the last lifeline."
"That method..."
"All letters are blocked. The servants won't risk their lives to help me. And I wouldn't ask you, Yuri, to stake your life delivering one to the Glasion Marquisate."
"Then how?"
"......I'll have to go myself."
Diela placed a hand on her chest as she answered.
"Help me get a dress so I can attend the banquet where Marquis Glasion will be. If you do that much, I'll do everything to let you stay in this barony until you recover your memories."
"......."
A hopelessly messy plan with slim odds.
No obligation to help.
However.
"Of course, miss."
Who knows? Maybe.
"I'll do my utmost to help."
After resolving the barony's crisis, she might embrace me in gratitude.
Hans Wilhelm.
The man who granted requests even from enemy spies if they were beauties.
"I'll definitely procure it. A dress for you, miss."
"Yuri..."
"But first, one question."
With the most serious face in the world, I asked Diela.
"What are your three sizes?"