Far away from the problem of Gryogens Grave. In Higelsdale’s lower-class streets, Derylkin was working. Stacking boxes upon boxes, unknowing what was in them, nor did he really need to. After a day or two, he’s gotten used to this specific kind of labor. Simple and mindless. He hasn’t forgotten Kanade’s kind gesture of giving him the money, but Blunderlynn was really privy and takes care of all his essentials.

  Speaking of, initially thinking that he would have to use his income to live, Blunderlynn gave him a spot to stay right across the shop with everything he could need. Hot food was always waiting for him the moment he woke up, a soft bed, and a roof over his head. Though, on a deeper thought, she was the one that introduced him.

  He patted his hand to rid it of the dust that rubbed off from the boxes. Work was work; alas, deep inside, he was waiting for another gig. Every couple of days someone arrived with a note, then he was sent off by Blunderlynn into the city. Buy that, carry that, menial stuff that was something he was far more than used to doing; besides, the city was more interesting without having to worry about needing to be useful enough to survive. After being passed around, this freedom—it was addicting.

  “Deryyy!” Blunderlynn’s voice squirms around his ears. Derylkin swiftly turned around to face him, straight-faced. “I keep forgetting to ask, was your master an adventurer by chance, yesss?” The simple question perplexed Derylkin for a moment.

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  “Yes…? Sir.” He assumed that if Kanade had mentioned that he was a slave of an adventurer, then Blunderlynn would have known the stakes. It turns out that he didn’t.

  “Hmm? Amuse me. Did he sometimes play around with the air?” He twirls his index finger at his chest’s height. His gaze keenly watched Derylkin’s reaction to the question.

  “Yes…?” He clearly remembered that habit of his master; he thought nothing of it. Though, it did correlate it to the items that appear out of thin air.

  “Wonderful… Wonderful… Be a cutie and give me his name.” Blunderlynn smiled with his eyes closed and promptly put his hands together with a silent clap. His brown pupils peeked out from under his eyelids ever-so-slightly.

  “Ah… I don’t know, sir. He never directly said it to me, but I think it starts with an ‘el’ sound.”

  “And how did this sweetie pie look like?”