"Move out of the village?"
At the breakfast table, the entire Greyrat family stared at Allen in surprise, who sat stiffly, looking more than a little awkward.
It was now spring of the Dragon Calendar year 414, and this marked Allen's fourth attempt to convince the Greyrats to relocate out of the Fittoa Region.
The most direct and effective way to avoid the disaster of the Teleportation Incident was, of course, to get them out of Fittoa altogether.
And yet...
Making a decision is easy—following through on it is the hard part.
It's not like he could just knock the whole family unconscious and drag them away.
So all he could do was keep offering "reasonable," "practical," and "well-supported" suggestions.
Right?
Paul crossed his arms, brows furrowed. "Since last winter, this is the fourth time you've brought up moving out of Buena Village, isn't it? Do you really dislike living here that much?"
He counted on his fingers as he continued, clearly keeping score.
"First time, you said the winters were too harsh, too much snow, and not seeing Sylphy every day was bad for the kids' emotional development. First off, what even is emotional development? And second, you tried to convince Laws' whole family to move with us too—don't you think that was a bit much?"
Allen groaned, covering his face.
Laws and the others are all good people! I'm already in this world as a Jobless fan—what's so wrong with wanting to give Sylphy a full, happy home?
Paul's expression tightened. "And when I brought it up with Laws, the guy just paused for a second and then agreed right away?! What's going on between you two? And what do you mean 'not seeing Sylphy'? Since you got back from hunting monsters last winter, she's been coming over every day!"
He clicked his tongue. "Sylphy's always got her eyes half-closed watching you like a hawk. Honestly, by age she should be playing with Rudeus, but you—boy, you're quick to make a move, huh? That scheming look in your eyes... gotta say, you really are a Greyrat. Reminds me of myself back in the— ow! Darling, why'd you step on me?"
"Ow! Lilia, you too?!"
Paul winced, glaring under the table at the polished heels of Zenith and Lilia. He looked deeply pained.
Meanwhile, Allen was practically buried in his rice bowl, wishing he could disappear into it.
You think you're baffled? I'm more baffled than anyone here! I only brought it up in passing and Laws actually seemed... happy? And Paul, my dude, why the hell would you go and snitch on me like that?! What happened to brotherhood?!
Paul, still grimacing from being stepped on, reached out as if to squeeze someone's knee under the table, but Zenith and Lilia both dodged instantly. He cleared his throat and hurried on.
"And the second time! Even worse! You told Rudeus in private that boys are more likely to develop... uh, some kind of seasonal male fatigue disorder during snowy winters? So we should all move south?"
His voice cracked. "What the hell have you been learning during your years in the capital?! What's going on in that head of yours?!"
He turned to glare at Allen, who still had his head in his bowl, then slapped the table and glanced at Rudeus.
The boy twitched hard, mouth twitching like he'd been electrocuted. He looked at Allen with an expression that screamed: I thought you were my bro, and now you're out here trying to make me impotent?
Paul sighed. "I know you two are close, but that kind of joke's not funny."
Hey, hey—this is canon-ordained, not my fault! And all I said was that the cold makes the autonomic nervous system sluggish, which affects one's mental state! Just because you don't understand it doesn't mean you get to twist my words into something ridiculous!
And worst of all? Your version is disturbingly close to canon! Is this what they call North God-style intuition?!
"And then the third time! You claimed Aisha definitely has talent in magic, so moving to Sharia would make it easier for her to attend school? What? Shouldn't Norn be the one with magic potential, given she's Rudeus's full sibling?"
He paused, sneaking a glance at Zenith before continuing sheepishly.
"Besides, Aisha can't even talk yet. She can't even call me 'Dad'—how would you know she has magic talent? You're just making things up—"
"Eh-Allen! Eh-hey. Ah-len!"
From the nearby cradle, Aisha flailed her little hands toward Allen.
Paul's words died in his throat.
The whole room fell into a deafening silence.
His face darkened dramatically as he stared at Allen, who was now blushing awkwardly. Oddly enough, Paul and Allen had spent nearly the same amount of time playing with Aisha over the winter. And yet—she only ever called Allen's name.
He couldn't take it.
He turned stiffly to Lilia, who was giggling behind her hand, and let out a long sigh before looking at Rudeus with a meaningful expression.
"Rudeus. As her big brother, you must treat Norn and Aisha fairly. Be good to both of them, understand?"
"Ah-ah!"
This time it was Norn, also reaching up from her cradle, clearly asking for Allen.
Paul: …
Lilia: …
Zenith: …
Rudeus: …
The silence was so tidy it felt choreographed.
Then Aisha heard Norn's delighted giggle. Her face crumpled.
She burst into tears.
Allen rubbed his temple, pulled his head out of the rice bowl, and glanced at her.
He gave a practiced shhh, then, with his other hand, flicked his finger in a motion drawn straight from Water God Style.
A tiny aura projectile shot toward Aisha's forehead, controlled with exquisite precision.
It blew her red hair upward like a gust of wind.
She clapped her hands and giggled excitedly.
The crying stopped instantly.
The room got even quieter.
Allen's hand froze. Slowly, awkwardly, he lowered his head and buried his face in the rice bowl again.
After a long pause, Rudeus cleared his throat, trying to cut the tension.
Okay, this is getting a little awkward. Time to save Allen with a subject change… let's see... got it!
He looked at Allen seriously. "Allen, do you not like the village? But everyone here seems to really like you. Especially Madam Eto—"
Before he could finish, Allen leapt to his feet, face pale.
He lunged across the table and slapped a hand over Rudeus's mouth. Then, wrestling him under one arm like a sack of grain, he dashed straight for the front door.
"We're going to see Somar—no! I mean, Sylphy! Going to see Sylphy!!"
In a flash, Allen bolted out the door, leaving only a gust of wind that tousled everyone's hair.
After a long pause, Paul finally spoke again.
"Allen... does he really dislike Buena Village that much?"
He sighed and exchanged glances with Zenith and Lilia. Both women gave wry smiles.
Zenith, who'd been watching the whole family bicker with her chin in her hands and a faint smile on her face, finally looked away from the door and up at the ceiling.
"Looks like it. But I don't think his reason for wanting to leave Buena Village is just about the village."
Paul and Lilia's expressions grew serious.
They locked eyes—both clearly troubled by the same thought.
And in the master bedroom, on the desk by the window—
A breeze slipped in through the open shutters.
It caught the edge of a folded letter and lifted it gently.
The handwriting was too blurred to read from a distance.
But the script was refined. Elegant.
Clearly not the pen of a commoner.