Elf Ojou-sama 2: Elf Oujo-sama Harder. (Transdim Omake) (Patreon)
Content
Elf Ojou-sama 2: Elf Oujo-sama Harder.
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Commisioned by Althero
Wordcount: 1000.
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“Hachiman, look at me please.”
“I’m not a dog, Riveria.”
“Yet, you are being intensely obstinate and ridiculous.”
“Obstinate: yes. Ridiculous: absolutely not.”
Riveria sighed and shook her head, while she cast her gaze upon the house. The house that was away from the rest from the Loki Familia, because she thought it would be more appropriate for a girl she just met.
“Is that so? Do you really think it’s ridiculous that I don’t wish for a child to be raised within the Loki Familia’s castle?” It was her latest, bright idea. She’s had a lot of those these past couple of years, ever since I suggested she start looking towards expanding her horizons. If I could wring my own neck in the past, I would. “Do you truly value my safety so much that you can’t stand me outside of a castle’s walls, even for a child?”
“Oi, you’re supposed to ask me if I value MY safety first.”
“We both know the answer to that, Hachiman.”
“Tch. Fine. Yes, I value your safety more than some random kid who I don’t know. There’re dozens of orphans in Orario. We help them out plenty.” Hopefully, facts can win the day here, even though they don’t have a very good track record when it comes to Riveria when she sets her mind on something. “The orphan will also be safer in the castle, rather than outside. Hell, we’re putting her more at risk by being the only ones taking care of her.”
“The strongest pair of Adventurers protecting a child… puts the child at greater risk?” Riveria raised and eyebrow at me, while examining the kitchen. It was less a medieval affair and close to a modern one, thanks to magical appliances. Running water and a stove doesn’t seem like much, until you realize you’re in a city in the middle of an open plain. “You’ll have to explain further, Hachiman.”
“What’s there to explain? We have targets on our backs, plenty of people want to get ahead of us, and now we have a Level 1 around us we’re obviously taking care of.” I gave my thoughts on the subject without hesitation. Wall-whatever can grow up in Loki’s harem castle instead of a more controlled, reasonable environment. My priorities lie with keeping Riveria safe. “They’ll go after the kid to hurt you, and that’ll piss me off, and next thing we know Orario’s on fire, we’re both pissed, and probably blacklisted.”
“And, so, you would have a child be raised as a soldier, on the chance that we would be insufficient in our ability to protect one person?”
“You’re trying to use morality on me and failing, Riveria. You know where I stand.”
“Yes… you stand for me… and whatever it is I politlely, nicely ask you to help me with.” Oh, dammit. She’s got that smile. That calm, elegant smile she makes that reaches her eyes, and tells me that she’s amused and not budging a single inch, while taking everything she can from me. Why? Because she knows, if she insists, I can’t say no. “So, Hachiman, would please help me give this child a home?”
She waited for my answer with the smuggest, smug smile to ever exist, even though she knew the answer.
“Fine.”
…
“I want to fight monsters.”
“You can fight after you’ve studied.”
Unsurprisingly, an orphan in medieval settings are really dumb. At four years old, Wallenstein should be in Kindergarten, but in modern times, she should know the basics of reading, writing, and talking.
Instead she knows the basics of killing monsters for money.
“Come now, Hachiman, four hours of study is enough, no? Children should be training their bodies.” Riveria entered the study room carrying sandwiches. While I’m a better cook than her by far, she’s more than capable of preparing simple meals. Anything that involves fire is right out. “Reading and writing is very important, but certainly not to this point.”
Four hours a day of reading, writing, and learning, as far as I’m concerned, is pretty much just fine. It’s not the best, it’s not the worst. Over the next decade and a half, Wallenstein’ll be above everyone else in terms of education, even if she is more suited for fighting monsters than anything else.
The perks of having to compete with other, medieval peasantry means that the standard for being above average is very, very low.
“She can start training outside, and maybe kill a few monsters, once she writes a small paragraph about her day.” Wallenstein was already greedily stuffing her face with a sandwich and chugging milk. Hopefully, a balanced, three-meal-a-day diet will handle three years of living in a lackluster orphanage. Even though medieval times should have most people eating only once or twice a day, there’s enough magic going around everywhere that three meals a day is standard in Orario and everyone else. “C’mon, finish your meal, write up your report, and we can go for a fun, little walk, Wallenstein.”
“Hachiman, don’t treat her like a pet.”
“Actually, I treat animals way better than Wallenstein. I just feed them, play with them, and let them do what they want.”
“The sheer pride you have in those words is worrying. Please, reconsider thinking ever again, Hachiman.”
Riveria’s snide comment was something I took in stride, and I was more than capable of letting it wash over me.
However, such wasn’t the case for Wallenstein.
“P-please don’t fight! I’ll be good!” I was distracted enough by Riveria to forget that Wallenstein was actually paying attention to the two of us. She’s been with us only for a few weeks, but I suppose that any new, adopted orphan would panic the moment her two new caretakers looked like they’re having a disagreement over her.
Riveria seemed flabbergasted over Wallenstein having more emotions than being bored and wanting to kill monsters, so I took the initiative.
“Okay, then get to writing.”
“Hachiman!”
“What!?”
When I see an opportunity, I take it!
We can clear up our weird relationship later, when she can actually understand!