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chapter 06
Ah, We’re Leaving as Soon as the Healer Arrives
“A rat crawling through a crack in the fence is one thing, but how could I fail to notice a fox lurking around the walls? Especially one with fur that shines so unnecessarily brightly.”
Camellia answered leisurely, then drove the point home by speaking the boy’s true name.
“Pleasure to meet you, Netanel Pragma.”
The boy—Netanel—smiled more deeply.
“So you still consider me a fox at least? I’m honored.”
The dull hair color of the young courier slowly turned golden.
His muddy brown eyes transformed as well, becoming bright like polished gold coins worn smooth with age.
The rounded tips of his ears sharpened slightly, and his plain, featureless face changed into that of a charming young man with foxlike allure.
Everyone watching, including the guild master, gaped in shock.
Rohengrin seemed startled too, pressing himself tightly to her side in tension, as though prepared to throw himself forward to protect her at any moment.
Calm down, Rohen. He’s difficult to recruit, but he’s not a bad kid.
Some characters joined your party the instant you met them, all “Sure, I’ll come along!”
But there were others who were the complete opposite.
Companions who could only be recruited after fulfilling very specific conditions.
‘Netanel Pragma’ belonged firmly to the latter category.
You first had to use Adventurer Employment to hire every single team in the guild at least once before his recruitment quest would even appear.
And even then, you couldn’t recruit him immediately. You had to clear a ridiculous chain of thirty-two consecutive quests before he officially joined.
But in return, his performance was absurdly good.
Most priests and healers became useless once their divine power and miracle charges ran dry and had to fight physically afterward.
Netanel was the exception.
As the favored child of the Golden Scales, the god of commerce and trade, he could consume money itself to cast miracles.
In other words, as long as you had cash, miracles could be endlessly duplicated!
Managing his loyalty and affection was easy too.
As an apostle of the Scales, Netanel revered contracts and transactions. As long as you upheld the clauses in a contract and paid proper compensation, he would never betray you.
Even if she brainwashed someone right in front of him, if she slipped him a donation asking him to overlook it, he’d simply smile brightly and say, “Hmm? Did something happen?”
No matter how I think about it, you’re the only one for me, Netanel.
The ability to constantly throw out heals and buffs whenever necessary.
The boldness to ignore mental magic despite being a high priest.
And all sorts of useful background lore gained from being a long-lived half-elf.
So naturally she wanted to say, No matter what happens, you’re mine…
…but it still wasn’t time yet.
This was a dark fantasy world where people who said they’d die fighting really would slit their own stomachs open without hesitation.
Trying to greedily scam someone into joining your party could easily come back to bite you.
Still, temporary party membership should be possible.
If this was the Netanel she knew, there was a 99% chance he’d agree.
The remaining 1% uncertainty of reality made her nervous, but acting desperate would only make her look like an easy mark.
So Camellia behaved with complete composure, as if she had nothing to lose.
“I dislike repeating myself, so I’d like an answer now. Or perhaps your god refuses to answer you?”
Netanel’s expression turned strange.
Camellia prayed inwardly in anxious anticipation.
Will he take it? He will, right? Please! We’re ready to depart as soon as the healer arrives!
Perhaps her earnest desire combined with her eighteen points in Charm worked, because at last the boy raised both hands with a smile.
“…Well, it can’t be helped. An unfair contract is still a contract.”
That’s right!
Fireworks exploded in Camellia’s mind, though outwardly she remained calm.
“There’s no need to worry. Just as you cannot force a fox to live like a sheepdog, I do not expect anything excessive from you.”
Once the issue with the tower’s seal was resolved, the contract would end.
Until then, if he served diligently, she would overlook his crime of sneaking into her territory without permission and even reward him appropriately.
The terms were extraordinarily generous.
“My, what a wonderful employer. I could almost cry.”
Pretending to wipe tears from his eyes, the golden fox smiled slyly.
“Then I look forward to working with you for this brief time, my lord.”
“Good. I trust you’ll earn your pay.”
[Netanel Pragma’s affection has increased.]
[Netanel Pragma has entered your service!]
Duration: One week
Loyalty: 0/100
Affection: 35/100 (…)
Camellia frowned slightly.
Netanel wasn’t supposed to be the kind of character whose affection rose this easily.
She opened the hidden details beside the ellipsis and nearly lost her mind at the listed reasons.
- The lord accurately identified a loophole in the contract and formed an unfair agreement +20
- The lord made a good transaction +10
- The employment conditions offered by the lord are excellent +5
He was actually happy about being tricked into an unfair contract.
Not just happy—extremely happy.
Absurd, yes, but not entirely incomprehensible.
Netanel liked people skilled in contracts and negotiation, and even in the game his affection rose whenever the party secured advantageous deals, whether through scams or otherwise.
Still… he’s this happy even though he’s the victim?
She hadn’t realized he was this insane.
But there was no time to sit around confused, thinking “The Netanel I knew wasn’t like this…!” after triggering events that had never existed in the game.
Conquering the tower came first.
Tank: Rohengrin. Damage dealer: Jehar. Healer: Netanel. And me as support. The party’s complete.
The longer they delayed the first-floor raid, the more disadvantageous it became.
Once the adventurers and party members were prepared, they had to enter immediately.
I should head back right now—
Just as Camellia turned around, a sharp pain shot upward from her tailbone, forcing her to stop.
Ugh, this damn body!
At the very least, she needed to upgrade from a sickly lord to merely a frail lord.
The moment they got into the carriage, she was definitely making Netanel cast every stamina-related blessing he had.
Making that vow internally, she calmly wrapped up the situation.
“I’ll return now. Master, send the contract to the castle before the end of the day.”
“Y-Yes? Ah, yes! I’ll organize it and send it immediately.”
The guild master, who had been staring blankly at the conversation as though possessed by ghosts, finally came back to his senses and answered.
“We’ll divide the forces into two groups: a defense team to block monsters outside the tower, and an infiltration team entering the tower with me. Select the personnel in advance.”
“Yes, I’ll handle that as well. Though… um…”
Despite appearances, the adventurer guild master was a highly competent man.
Still, even he couldn’t suppress his curiosity and finally asked about Netanel.
“How exactly did you know that brat— ahem, that gentleman—was here, my lord?”
Instead of answering that she had spent thirty thousand hours playing this game, Camellia simply stared silently at him.
Apparently interpreting her gaze as “How dare you ask such a pitiful question of an omniscient being like myself?”, the guild master quickly shut his mouth and looked away.
It really was fortunate that the protagonist’s class happened to be “Lord.”
Camellia endured the pain in her tailbone with all her strength and turned sharply.
“Netanel. Come with me.”
“Yes, employer.”
“Blessing.”
Stamina +2.
“Exchange of the Golden Scales.”
HP Recovery per Turn +10.
“How do you feel?”
As soon as they boarded the carriage, Netanel had continuously layered blessings on her exactly as requested, smiling brightly as he asked the question.
A stamina stat of 8 was considered “frail” in this world.
In-game, that translated to HP regeneration and status recovery being about 20% slower.
Her physical condition had undeniably improved compared to before, though it still wasn’t perfect.
Her shoulders and neck still ached, her knees hurt, and she had a slight headache.
Yet instead of disappointment, Camellia felt deeply moved.
At this level, this body’s actually better than my old one.
Compared to the weak modern body she’d had in her previous life—where she sat around gaming all day without exercise—the “frail body” of a dark fantasy world where people constantly wrestled monsters was far superior.
At this rate, she would be able to move around inside the tower without much trouble.
“Excellent.”
When she praised him sincerely, Netanel responded with exaggerated gratitude.
“My employer’s happiness is my happiness.”
He must have realized her condition wasn’t normal, yet he didn’t show it at all.
He didn’t ask why the body of an immortal lord was in such terrible shape, or how she had ended up like this.
He really earns his pay.
Sharp-witted, competent, efficient—there truly was no better healer.
She needed to sweet-talk him properly during this temporary arrangement and somehow make him officially join her service.
Right, I should reassure Rohengrin too.
Just as introducing cats to each other had to be done carefully, adding new party members required caution as well.
Party-member stress was just as dangerous as the stress a first child experienced when a second child was born.
“Rohengrin.”
When Camellia called him, he snapped out of his thoughts and answered quickly.
“Yes, my lord.”
“If something is bothering you, you may speak freely. I permit it.”
“Ah…”
Rohengrin hesitated before asking:
“How did you come to know the adventurer called Ken?”
Not how I knew Netanel, but that?
It was somewhat absurd, but the question wasn’t difficult to answer.
“Isn’t he a top-class adventurer? Naturally I’ve been keeping an eye on him.”
“I see…”
He clearly didn’t look convinced, but what could he do? The lord had spoken.
“Is that all you wished to say?”
Rohengrin hesitated once more. Apparently he still had more to say.
“Do not worry. No matter what you say, I will not blame you.”
“I do not believe it is my place to object to whom you keep under your command, my lord. I’m sure you had your reasons. However…”
Rohengrin bit down on his dry lips before carefully adding:
“The steward may not think the same.”
Surprisingly enough, his prediction was perfectly accurate.
