A playful breeze tickled Bonnie’s ear, making her shrink her shoulders and squirm.

  Seeing that the two girls’ argument was going nowhere, Glen finally stepped forward with a sigh. “All right, enough already—are you still coming to see the big dog or not?”

  But Perna spun around and snapped, “No one asked for your opinion!”

  “Hey now, little lady—looks like someone’s asking for a lesson.”

  Glen grinned, rolling up his sleeves as he approached.

  “Mr. Glen, please don’t be angry…” Leila rushed forward, alarmed by his tone.

  Glen gently moved her aside. “Relax. I’ll just give her a little lesson—it’s fine.”

  “You wouldn’t dare lay a finger on me! If your filthy hands so much as touch me…”

  Perna tilted her chin defiantly, her pale neck exposed in challenge, the picture of aristocratic pride.

  But before she could finish, two hands cupped her cheeks—firmly pinching, kneading, tugging, and squashing.

  Oh, this is incredible—so smooth, so soft! Glen’s hands lingered far longer than they should have, entirely oblivious to his stunned victim.

  After several long seconds, Perna finally realized what was happening—and unleashed a scream so shrill it pierced the air.

  “AAAAHHH!”

  She launched into a flurry of ineffectual kitten punches, striking at Glen’s chest with all the fury of a small cat. It did absolutely nothing, of course.

  Her friends rushed in to rescue her before she could collapse from outrage.

  “You… you vile commoner! How dare you lay hands on someone as beautiful as me! I—I’ll tell my mother, you—ugh!”

  Tears welled in the golden-haired noble girl’s eyes, her cheeks marked with clear red fingerprints as she buried her face in Leila’s arms.

  Glen raised an eyebrow. “Why does everyone’s first instinct seem to be tattling?”

  “Leila, let’s just leave! Did you see what that filthy—what that man did to me?”

  Leila hesitated, caught between sympathy and exasperation.

  Before she could answer, Glen spoke up again. “Say another word, and I’ll let you try this next.”

  He rubbed his hands in the dirt, then flexed his fingers menacingly as he approached her.

  The instant Perna saw the grime on his palms, sheer terror struck her. She buried her face deeper into Leila’s shoulder, trembling and silent.

  Glen clapped his hands together. “See? Problem solved.”

  The others couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “Mr. Glen, you’re awful,” Leila managed between giggles.

  “All right, all right,” Glen said with mock seriousness. “Didn’t you all want to see the ‘big dog’? Follow me.”

  At once, Bonnie and Leila’s excitement returned, and they hurried him along.

  The three who had followed secretly earlier were left confused. Bork leaned toward Bonnie. “So, um… what are we actually doing here? What’s this ‘big dog’ thing?”

  Bonnie figured they’d see it soon enough, so she gave them a quick summary.

  As she spoke, Mair and Perna listened intently.

  When she finished, both boys gasped in disbelief and wonder.

  Bonnie grinned smugly. “One word—cool, right?”

  “Cool?” They blinked, unfamiliar with the word, then quickly nodded in agreement—it sounded just right.

  “Where’d you learn that, Bonnie? It sounds amazing!” Bork said admiringly.

  “Mr. Glen taught me! It must be something people say a lot where he comes from.” Bonnie’s pride was obvious.

  Chatting and laughing, they soon reached their destination.

  Deep in the woods lay a cleared patch of land—within it, a repaired pit crowded with black wild boars, a small storage shed, and a rough wooden stable.

  The elf girl was practicing archery, while Nighthowl had already slunk into hiding.

  Gottaya frowned at the sight of several human youths approaching.

  “An elf!” several of them exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement.

  “Leila, go on—your Elvish is good! Say something to her!” Bonnie urged, pushing her forward eagerly.

  The scene reminded Glen of the time his high school classmates had encountered a foreign exchange student.

  Leila, flustered but thrilled, took a few steps closer and opened her mouth to greet the elf in her language—

  “I speak the human tongue,” Gottaya interrupted coolly before she could finish.

  Leila froze mid-word, her face turning bright red—and so did Bonnie, who had pushed her.

  Uninterested in further introductions, Gottaya picked up her basket and started toward the forest.

  “Mr. Glen… does she not like us?” Bonnie asked quietly, disappointment coloring her voice.

  “Don’t mind her. Elves are all like that—same as a certain noble young lady I know.”

  He gave Bonnie’s shoulder a reassuring pat, but his sideways glance made it clear who he meant.

  Perna flushed crimson but bit her tongue, too proud—and too wary—to argue.

  Leila soon recovered from her embarrassment, looking around curiously. “Mr. Glen, where’s the—”

  Before she could finish, Glen gave a sharp whistle.

  From the shadows of the trees, a massive beast emerged, its single golden eye gleaming.

  “It’s huge!”

  “So scary!”

  The young onlookers cried out in unison, instinctively retreating behind Glen.

  Nighthowl padded up to him, brushing its snout against his leg.

  Glen patted its head. “Looks like you’ve got nothing better to do—go keep them company.”

  The beast gave a soundless sigh, then turned toward the group and nodded solemnly.

  “All right,” Glen announced as if opening a show, “who wants to pet the big dog first?”

  Bonnie, trembling but determined, placed a hand over her heart and stepped forward.

  “Bonnie…” Leila and the others watched anxiously.

  When Bonnie’s palm finally touched the creature’s coarse black fur, her eyes lit up with sheer joy.

  Both hands soon joined in, enthusiastically stroking the creature’s side.

  Nighthowl, utterly unbothered, endured the attention with a resigned calm.

  Seeing how much fun she was having, the two boys and Leila followed suit, cautiously reaching out to pet him.

  Watching them, Glen couldn’t help but wonder wryly— Still not as nice as Perna’s face, though.

  The golden-haired noble shivered as if sensing his thoughts.

  Leaving the group to play with Nighthowl, Glen turned back to his work, already plotting how to gently trick these energetic youths into lending a hand later.

  Dood Town.

  After meeting his parents a few days ago, Laville’s gloom had lifted considerably.

  Though they couldn’t take him away just yet, the chance to see them from time to time was comfort enough.

  The Charnis couple, worried about delaying Glen’s assigned duties for the boy, hadn’t stayed long before leaving.

  Today’s workload was surprisingly light—hardly anyone had come by.

  Bored, Laville toyed with his quill, debating whether to spend the last of the meal money Glen had left him.

  The door creaked open again.

  He straightened at once, assuming a professional posture.

  A tall yet lanky man stepped inside. His hair was wild, his small eyes dull, and his plain clothes marked him as an ordinary laborer.

  He approached like a walking stick come to life, slightly hunched, and spoke in a weary voice:

  “I saw the sign outside. You’re hiring… a butcher?”