Day off, morning, and I’d come to the Guild’s reference room.
A reference room any adventurer with a Guild card could use.
Materials on monsters around Darion, prior research that was publicly viewable.
Books containing the general knowledge an adventurer needed.
“Found it.”
A thick book. The Second, on duty today, was directing.
“Lyle, our knowledge is, by definition, old. We can teach, but check what the current era says first. We have to.”
I felt that one keenly.
When I’d asked Novem about Growth that morning, she’d dropped the dish she was holding.
Lucky it was wooden. The fact that she’d looked about to cry was, in several ways, something I wanted to not happen again.
(What was the tearful look about?)
The Second was teaching me about Growth because the Walt family customs were largely the Second’s design.
Using knowledge taught by the Fuchs family, the Second — Crassel Walt — had laid the real groundwork for the Walt country line.
To accelerate Growth, he’d built a Walt tradition of having his sons, grandsons, and descendants subjugate monsters. Apparently.
“Apparently,” because I’d been cold-shouldered before going through that tradition.
Killing monsters accelerated Growth — that was, in a sense, a folk belief.
Because Growth could happen through ordinary life too.
Variation between individuals was wide, and was treated as a matter of talent.
From the Fourth onward, House Walt seemed to understand monster subjugation as a way to train command and combat — individual and group — via monster engagement.
But from the Fifth onward, it had become custom: cover the basics yourself, then leave the rest to subordinates.
“Honest mistake — I didn’t think the Third, Sley, hadn’t passed the important parts down.”
Walt knowledge about Growth — the critical content — hadn’t been passed on, in large part because the Third had died in the field.
The Fourth, becoming head young, had kept it as a custom but not understood the substance.
I sat at a nearby chair and laid the thick book on the desk.
“On the relationship between Growth and monster subjugation… quite the collection of cases.”
The Guild’s collection — published cases, plus the author’s interpretation.
The body’s sensory change, called Growth, had been studied for a long time.
I flipped pages quickly. The Second cut in.
“Stop! Lyle, that’s too fast. How are you even reading at that pace?”
I checked the room — no one watching. Few adventurers used the reference room.
“Well… when I was being cold-shouldered, it was reading books, or magic and sword practice outside. That was the routine.”
When I’d been cold-shouldered, it really had been.
Looking back — I’d basically been confined to the mansion.
”…A lot of useful info, but doesn’t quite match my experience.”
He started explaining Growth to me.
The current consensus: people accumulate experience, and at some point it flowers — that’s Growth.
So fighting monsters was one significant form of experience, but it wasn’t the killing of monsters that triggered Growth — Growth came from accumulating experiences.
Confusing, but: you don’t Grow because you killed a monster; you Grow because that experience contributed to your accumulation.
“Is that wrong?”
“Not wrong, but — monster killing does accelerate Growth in practice. I felt Growth nine times that I remember.”
Nine — extremely unusual. Most ordinary people had one or two.
Mid-tier adventurers — most had four or five.
“Grandfather — the Seventh — said he Grew on the battlefield too.”
The Second.
“That kind of experience accumulates too, but monster subjugation is in a different efficiency tier. Especially against opponents above your level — felt fast.”
“Above your level.”
The Second again — fighting someone stronger accelerated Growth.
“Mind you, just killing a lot of small fry produced Growth too. In my era, drilling group tactics into soldiers was a struggle. Kept records, ground at it.”
Handed the seat with no know-how, the Second had been shocked at the territory’s actual state.
And the way House Walt had been ruled was — astonishingly — held together by the First’s charisma alone.
The barbarian First had apparently commanded deep respect from his kind.
“Same volume of experience, different individual rates and patterns. Some Grew across the board. Some Grew on one axis. Some Grew everywhere except their weak point.”
It wasn’t a dramatic leap.
It was — a wall you couldn’t cross, suddenly crossed.
That was Growth.
“What type am I?”
“Each person registers it subjectively. Hard to tell. But you’d recognize the change within yourself. Never having experienced it was, frankly, a shock.”
Everyone had been startled by my answer.
Every kid in their teens, often before ten, went through one.
Adults watched and explained Growth to the surprised child.
That kind of common knowledge.
(I didn’t even know that.)
I kept flipping.
“That said — a lot of this stuff is rumor and lies. In my time, a ‘Growth-accelerating power stone’ had a craze going. Did nothing…”
“You tried one.”
His voice had dimmed. Yes — bought, used, no effect.
The Second said the sensory nature made fraud hard to prove.
“Eventually we banned the sale in our territory. Costly lesson.”
The Second and I finished the book. With time before meeting Novem and Aria, we kept reading.
A book caught his interest.
I shelved the thick book and brought the new one to my seat.
“What’s this one?”
“Old book — just curious. Lyle, can you read it?”
I opened it. The era was old; the phrasings differed from contemporary.
“Hard going, but yes.”
“Right? Well — that figures…”
He sounded satisfied. Whatever he wanted to confirm, he’d confirmed it.
“Right. Keeping ladies waiting is not done. Lyle, let’s head to the meet early.”
“Yes.” (What did he want to know?)
It bothered me, but he wasn’t in an answering mood.
◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇
The meet-up spot was a safer area, away from the Guild.
The Guild attracted rough types.
Meeting the two there would invite trouble.
We met somewhere safer to avoid that.
I got there before noon. Slightly early — the appointment was past noon.
Food stalls all around, smells in the air. I looked: a stall pulling something out of a fryer.
Fried food.
The First reacted.
“Lyle. What is that?”
People were occasionally looking my way, so I covered my mouth and answered softly.
“Potatoes, fried in oil.”
The First sounded impressed.
“There’s such a thing? Nothing like that in my era.”
The First’s era, even with the chaos settled, had been a recovery time. Compared to two-plus centuries on, the era was unrecognizable in its richness.
“Good era.”
The Third. The Fifth joined in.
“They arrived in our era. Grew in poor soil, big harvests. I remember.”
The Sixth.
“Good crop. Many of the people stopped going hungry.”
From that exchange, the First muttered, low.
“I see. Then my goal…”
A voice.
“Lord Lyle.”
Novem. Aria’s hand in hers. A paper bag in her other hand.
“Good, Lyle… carry their things. And — choose your words carefully. You notice the two are dressed differently?”
The Fourth, advising.
I snapped to. They were in different clothing.
“Ah — looks heavy. I’ll take it.”
I took both bags. Real weight.
“Thank you, Lord Lyle.”
“Eh, no — I can carry mine—”
Aria. Novem whispered something to her. Aria handed her bag over. Slightly troubled, but not coerced.
(What did she say? And more importantly—)
Both were in nicer outfits than their usual day-wear.
(How — how do I compliment them?)
Watching, Aria said,
“W-what? If it doesn’t suit me, say so—”
The First.
“Lyle! PRAISE her! Aria-chan, no — both of them, lay it on!”
The Second, cold.
“You ever say anything to Ma, complimentary?”
Before I could flail too much, the Fourth coached.
“Tell them both they look good. The pause came from the new atmosphere catching you off-guard — that’s the line.”
The Fifth, with a laugh.
“All those years buttering up the wife (Mom). Pays off.”
“You both look great. The — the atmosphere is just a little different, surprised me for a second. You look beautiful.” (The Fourth said to give them money, but Novem could manage her own shopping fine, I’d have thought.)
Aria flushed.
“Th-that, thanks. I don’t have any money, so — being lent some made me uncomfortable, you know…”
The air was awkward. Novem stepped in.
“Aria-san, we’re party members now. Return it when you can. I’m looking forward to it.”
“M-mm.”
Watching the hesitant Aria, I looked at them both in skirts.
Normally they wore pants for movement, so this was novel.
Novem too had been mostly in dresses when we’d met before — daywear like this was fresh.
(Hesitating, but glad I made her buy. Buying Novem something new was the cover for getting Aria to buy too. Got it — that’s why the Fourth thought it through.)
When the Fourth had told me to send them out shopping, this was the plan.
The Fourth was the one with the steady consideration for these things.
Aria had little of her own — even spare clothes. Citing that as the reason, the Fourth’s setup let Novem accept new clothes too. Hesitant Aria wouldn’t shop alone, so we’d pulled Novem in. I’d told Novem, go a little extravagant, get something you like.
(Thanks, Fourth.)
The other ancestors all had… issues with women.
Not in a position to lecture me. The only one who gave women-related advice was the conscientious-looking Fourth.
(Also — the Walt clan as a whole has been mooching off the Fuchs for generations. It’s not just me leaning on Novem.)
From the First’s day, the Fuchs had been helpful neighbors. From the Fifth onward, retainers.
The Walt house was a permanent borrower.
(Singling me out is unfair, isn’t it?)
So thinking, I went to a late lunch with the two of them.
◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇
Night.
Summoned. I went to the council room. The usual cast.
“What’s the etiquette for arriving at one of these?”
A slightly off-topic question. The Fifth said don’t worry about it. The Fourth opened.
“All right — Lyle’s here. Let’s settle the path forward. Mind, the conclusion is very simple.”
“Simple?”
“Yes. Simple.”
The Fourth nodded; the Second stood up to explain.
“Lyle, go outside the walls and fight monsters. Period. Not having Growth even once is genuinely bad. There may be something wrong.”
Something wrong with me.
Either I couldn’t Grow, or there was a defect.
The thought made me anxious.
“Some people only Grow with extreme experience accumulation. If that’s your type, then once Growth kicks in your stamina and mana will jump.”
That was a relief.
But I had a follow-up.
“How late do slow-growers Grow? Specific numbers?”
I’d read the book — the cases said individual variation.
Examples in the book didn’t include extreme outliers.
At latest, mid-teens, the book said. The Second touched his chin and reached back to his memory.
”…In my time, I knew one who hit their first Growth in their twenties.”
“Seriously?”
The First, surprised. The room, the same.
So was I.
”…Eh? So I’ll keep being tormented by this lineup, then?”
The Second was about to nod…
“Wait a moment, did you just say tormented? You were thinking of it that way?!”
The Second. The Fourth agreed.
“That’s, you know — that was training. Muscle and mana don’t grow without use. It’s that kind of thing.”
I gave the Fourth a suspicious look.
If so, explain it at the start. Not explaining it suggests just thought of it as an excuse.
“Suspicious.”
“Don’t doubt me. Look — look at our faces. Do these look like the eyes of liars?”
The Third. The eyes were clear, sure.
“R-right, maybe that kind of effect is there—”
About to be convinced, when the First.
“Eh? Did anyone say that?”
The First exposed the truth.
The room had just been chatting freely. The mana-as-training claim was apparently invented on the spot.
“YOUUUUU!!!!”
I shouted; everyone laughed and started filing back to their rooms.
The Third, laughing.
“Ha ha, sorry, sorry.”
The Second, excuse-spinning.
“Listen, my bad. Not Growing at all isn’t normal. Figured you were the mana-fails-to-grow type.”
The Sixth seemed mildly contrite.
“I genuinely thought ‘technique type,’ load him slowly. Me, anyway.”
The Seventh on that:
“You think you can just slip out?! I’m sorry, Lyle!”
Most of them vanished through their doors.
The Fourth wrapped up.
“Right. Dismissed for tonight.”
He went too. One remained.
“Wh-what is this?!”
I scanned the room. Only the First, smirking.
“What? Got more to say?”
I was being rude. The First looked happy.
Unexpected.
“Quite the spirit you’ve got going. When you first came in here you had dead-fish eyes — annoyed me. You’ve improved.”
Dead fish eyes. I scratched my head.
That bad, huh. Yeah — probably. Disowned, lost everything, putting on a brave face for Zel.
I’d come this far calculatedly thanks to Novem.
Without her — pure improvisation.
“Th-that wasn’t — I was just a little down.”
The First nodded.
In a good mood, maybe.
“Right. So — got any thoughts on what comes next?”
I remembered him telling me to start thinking about Ceres for myself.
Back then, I hadn’t cared what happened to me.
Just — Novem was there, so I’d thought about doing things a bit seriously.
Even now, I wasn’t seriously aiming for first-rate adventurer.
“I don’t really know.”
I’d expected him to flare up. The reaction was mild.
Arms folded, he asked the next question.
”…What do you think of Aria?”
“I drop the Lady on Novem’s say-so, but she’s basically a housemate.”
Honestly — having Novem nearby was enough.
Harems were lip service. Hadn’t thought about it.
But — someone seeing me, someone next to me, was nice.
“I know the First has feelings about Aria, but I have Novem. Honestly, the two of us alone would have been fine.”
Heading somewhere with Novem, quitting adventuring, living quietly. That sounded fine too.
I’d thought the First would not allow that line. Reaction, again, different.
“Suit yourself. Your life. What I hated was your rotten-fish eyes and your meek personality. And — Aria having feelings for you and you being aware of it. I hate that too.”
I’d noticed Aria’s feelings — vaguely.
I wasn’t going to respond.
I had Novem.
“Thanks. Apparently my face is alright, so maybe I get attention. Unlike some people.”
Snark at the First.
He glared—
“You little bastard! …You’ve actually got some bite now!”
He shouted, then laughed.
“What is up with you today? Usually you yell and the conversation ends.” (Calling my own face decent is embarrassing. Never really thought about it. He’s in a good mood, isn’t he?)
I asked. He scratched his cheek with a fingertip.
Vague answer, deflection.
“Felt like it today. And listen — I’m not telling you to fall for Aria-chan. Just, take some interest. The glasses one knows about that stuff, ask him.”
Glasses — the Fourth.
I nearly laughed but held it.
”…That much I can do.”
“Hey, you about to laugh just now?”
Caught.
(Sharp instincts on this guy. Not a bad person. Just barbarian in his thinking.)
“Bullseye?”
”…The ‘glasses’ impression is strong for the Fourth, you know.”
“RIGHT!”
It was the first day I’d ever talked with the First and laughed with him.