By the Grace of the Gods (LN) - Volume 12 - Chapter SS2

Bonus Short Stories

Raising Children

At last, the city had begun to settle down again. One day, two children came bounding into a house in the slums, happily calling out, “Give us another job, Lible!”

“Beck, Wist—what about the water delivery I set you up with this morning?”

“Um, we finished today’s. This is from the shelter,” said Wist.

“Got it. You boys knocked it right out of the park. Thought I gave you a bit too much for a couple of kids,” Lible said.

“We’re not little kids anymore,” Beck countered. “Everyone’s hitting a growth spurt or something. We’re stronger now, and we can work longer.”

“Especially since we can use decent tools... Even if we’re delivering the same amount, it’s much easier to do it with a working wagon,” Wist chimed in.

“Our environment has gotten much better,” Lible admitted. “That must make a big difference, especially for youngsters like you. You’re both still kids, if you ask me—but you’re starting to grow up, I’ll give you that.” Coming from one of the parental figures of the slums, this comment made Wist smile in earnest joy, while Beck pretended to pout out of shyness. “At this rate, it won’t be too long until you leave this place.”

This time, a flicker of grimness crossed the boys’ faces.

“What’s the matter?”

“I mean, that’s pretty sudden, you know?” Beck turned to Wist for confirmation.

“Y-Yeah. We talked about when we’d start work as adventurers, but it never seemed...real.”

“I don’t mean today, and I’m not trying to rush you. Just something for you to start thinking about,” Lible said.

“Sure, I get what you’re saying,” said Beck. “But that’s not for a while, right?”

Wist chimed in again. “We can barely make enough to feed ourselves, and we haven’t even paid you back for—”

“Idiots!” Lible shouted, silencing the children at once. “You two survived in these slums—and this has never been an easy neighborhood to live in—because you were greedy and had thick skin. Listen to me. You are young. You have a future. If you have a shot at living a normal life outside of this part of town, that’s going to be better for you than anything in this dump. Don’t make excuses about the future, about paying anyone back. If you ever get an opportunity to get out of here, you take it and run!”

“O-Okay... I will,” said Beck.

“I’m sorry,” Wist said.

“Hmph... There’s no getting rid of poverty. As much as this place has shrunk, it won’t ever go away entirely. If you think your lives through and then decide to stay, I won’t turn you away. Whenever you want to come back, my door is open. And I know how hard both of you have been working. Keep up that hard work.”

“G-Got it!”

“We will!”

“Go to the north-northeast shelter. Jeff’s been delivering firewood. Tell him I sent you, and he’ll give you a job,” Lible said.

“All right! Let’s go, Wist!”

“Yeah! Thank you, Lible!”

Lible huffed again as the boys ran out. Once they were gone, he took out a cigarette and lit it, the slightest hint of a grin threatening to break his perpetually stoic expression.

Hudom’s New Routine

“Hudom, you’re heading out now?” asked an employee of Bamboo Forest.

“A bit early. I’m wanted at the security headquarters,” I replied.

“You certainly have a lot on your plate. Have a good one.”

“You too.”

After I left the laundry shop, I walked along the city streets, still bright with daylight. Despite the lingering scars from the attacks, the streets were more vibrant, passersby more lively. Renovations were smooth going in all districts, and the involvement of migrant workers in the city’s renovation efforts seemed to have lessened their stigma among native residents.

“If it isn’t Hudom!”

“What are you doing here this early? Playing hooky today?”

“No, I’m not! I’m going to the security headquarters,” I said.

“You got work over there, then? Keep it up!”

“Come grab a drink sometime. You help us out so often—I owe you a few on the house.”

“Thanks. I’ll take you up on that soon.” It hit me that people recognized and greeted me more frequently on the streets, now that I’d been helping Ryoma with his tasks around the city.

Back when I’d wandered from city to city, I had never built relationships like this. Not so much as an acquaintance. That had worked out better for me at the time, and it wasn’t like I’d missed social interactions... “But this isn’t too bad, either.”

I enjoyed this routine enough that I found myself smiling for no reason. Spending the day working at the laundry shop, unless I was called in to take care of something else as need arose... I was busy, but I wasn’t worried about my next meal or a roof over my head. And I still had plenty of time and willing partners to train with. Ryoma, of course, but also the security guards at Bamboo Forest—Fay and Ox in particular. Even in my traveling days, I’d rarely come across a fighter as skilled as either of them. Even though I’d been somewhat coerced into this setup, I couldn’t have wished for a better one to further my craft. Besides, helping out Ryoma was kind of fun.

It did concern me that the attack on Gimul would be a topic of gossip among nobles, which meant intel on Ryoma and some of his slimes would get out. Not that I had the moral high ground after my brief career as a spy, but nobles with nefarious intentions were sure to set their sights on them.

“Once he sets his mind to it, he doesn’t know when to stop,” I muttered to myself. Ryoma’s whole lifestyle—particularly his slimes—were top-secret stuff, but he never seemed too careful about keeping secrets. Of course, more often than not, he used his abilities to help others, and he could take on almost any assailant a noble might send his way...

He kept me on my toes, that was for sure. The work was fulfilling and anything but boring. Maybe this was the perfect opportunity for me to plant my roots.

“I know. Maybe it’s high time I wrote a letter.” I had been sending my father regular mail, but only professionally, as a middleman between me and His Majesty. It had been a long time since I’d spoken to my mother or brothers back home. After I’d practically run away, I had never been too eager to return. But now that I worked as Ryoma’s assistant—under the duke’s employment, technically—I could actually read their responses if they wrote back. “I should at least tell them that I’ve started this new life, and...that I’m having fun. That’ll do for now.”

As long as they were willing, we’d have plenty of time to write to each other.

With thoughts of my future in mind, I kept walking under the clear blue sky. I had a good feeling about today.