November (2024) Bonus Chapter

Risha put his backpack over his shoulders, shield and spear on his back, and stepped outside of the manor.

The first light of the day appeared behind the mountains. Winter was gone, but the orphanage’s backyard was completely still. He took a deep breath, the fresh morning air filling his lungs. Risha absorbed the view with a nostalgic feeling stuck to his throat: the farm plot, the chicken coop, the well, the old shed. It would be a while until he returned. If he ever did.

“Time to say goodbye,” he muttered as he headed to the grove.

Three years had passed since Risha got his Class, but he had made little progress. There was simply too much to do at the orphanage. Crops to harvest, leaks to repair, and mouths to feed. Risha had been working as an escort for the Alchemists Guild and small-time merchants. The pay wasn’t great, and other mercenaries leeched all the experience. 

Risha hasn't been idle for the past three years, though. Following Mister Lowell’s teachings, he cultivated his Class like crafters did, forcing the System to recognize his passive abilities. Just enough to be accepted in the vanguard of the Royal Army.

Name: Risha A’Nassyra, Half-Orc (Sturdy)

Class: Brawler Lv.12

Titles: Pacifist, Team Player. 

Passive: Pugilism Lv.2, Shield Mastery Lv.2, Spear Mastery Lv.2, Quarterstaff Mastery Lv.2, Grappling Lv.3.

Skills: Oak Skin, Bulwark, Shield Bash, Taunt.

Risha was conscious that, at the current rate, reaching level twenty would take another two years. The orphanage, however, didn’t have two years to spare.

The last Monster Surge had left too many orphans. They had too many mouths to feed and not enough resources. Not only that, the destruction had turned Farcrest into a danger for the orphans. Merchants and guardsmen made no distinction between them and petty thieves, and even begging for pocket change was punished with beatings. 

If things continued as they were, the orphanage would not see the next winter. For that reason, Risha had secretly enlisted in the army. 

It was time to say goodbye to the only man who had looked after Farcrest orphans.

Risha put a Fairy King’s Brooch on Mister Lowell’s grave.

“I wish I could’ve taken your place as the caretaker, but I must leave. I’m sorry,” Risha said.

When Mister Lowell succumbed to illness, the four eldest orphans swore to keep the orphanage operative. It may have been a foolish endeavor, but they felt it was the least they could do in return. When they decided to take charge of the orphanage, only Risha and Elincia had Classes, but Mister Lowell had friends among the high spheres of Farcrest and a coffer full of silver.

They thought everything would be fine.

The friends were the first to disappear; then came the silver. Harvests weren’t stellar, and feeding sixteen orphans was more expensive than they expected. While Elincia and Ginz had pulled great Classes, they needed time to develop them.

The Alchemists Guild had made it clear that they wouldn’t accept Elincia unless she submitted Mister Lowell’s recipe book. Even Risha knew that asking for recipes of Named Potions in exchange for an apprenticeship was no different than armed robbery. Elincia had burned that bridge by dropping a few choice words against the Guildmaster. It seemed right then, but now that food was scarce, Risha wasn’t sure.

“Don’t worry about us, Mister Lowell, we’ll manage.”

Risha was about to turn around when he noticed a lump beside the grave. A dog under an oversized rag? The grove was too dark for him to see clearly. He moved the piece of cloth with the butt of his spear and found Astrid sleeping under the blanket. 

Her ears flicked, and she opened her eyes.

Risha cursed. He wanted to leave without anybody noticing. They had already discussed the possibility of Risha entering the army, but everyone was against the idea. Especially Elincia. Therefore, Risha had waited for Elincia to gather ingredients into the Farlands to leave. He even wrote a letter explaining his actions. He was supposed to leave the letter on the kitchen table for Astrid and Ginz to find.

There was nothing to be done about it.

“It’s cold out here,” Risha said.

“Beastfolk don’t get cold. The blanket is for the insects.” Astrid stretched her back. Despite her lupine ears, her movements were akin to a cat’s.

At first, when Astrid arrived at the orphanage for the first time, Risha thought her movements were unnerving. 

“Haven't I told you not to sleep out here?”

Astrid did what she was best at and ignored Risha. She lazily rubbed her eyes, refusing to leave Mister Lowell’s tombstone. Eventually, her glance fell on Risha’s backpack.

“Got work? I thought the Alchemist Guild had no gathering expeditions until next week.”

Alchemic ingredients shouldn’t have matured yet.

“I’m sorry, Astrid, I won't be able to stay for your birthday,” Risha said.

“I’m not going to celebrate it… but you can give me my gift now,” she replied, jabbing at Risha’s shoulder. “I’m kidding. I know we don’t have money for that.”

Risha examined Astrid’s face. She seemed too cheerful for someone who had spent the night by a tombstone. Since Mister Lowell’s death, Astrid barely smiled anymore. Not that she did it a lot when the man was alive. The girl was always on the somber side, which made her very few friends.

Something had changed.

“You are excited for your birthday,” Risha said, sounding almost accusatory.

Astrid jumped on the defensive.

“Why shouldn’t I be? This is a special birthday.”

Risha felt even more guilty, but he couldn’t backtrack. He had already signed a contract with the Aias Mercenaries, and his salary, minus a fee, would be delivered to the orphanage every month. 

“What are you feeling like?” He asked to divert the conversation to a safer topic.

Astrid looked at the morning sky through the foliage.

“I don’t know. I always thought Mister Lowell would be here to guide me. He had a good eye for people but never got to tell me what path to follow.”

Mister Lowell had guided Risha, and he never regretted getting the Brawler Class. It just felt right for him, with all its strengths and drawbacks. Everyone in the orphanage knew Mister Lowell had a good eye for people. He could see through the surface and bring what was inside.

“I think I’ll get a Martial Class. Then, we could work together and earn enough money for a pound cake or something.”

Risha felt like the worst person in Farcrest. He couldn’t lie any longer.

“I enlisted in the army, Astrid. I’ll be gone for a long time.”

“I don’t understand. You said you wouldn’t do it,” she replied, taken aback.

Risha grabbed Astrid’s shoulders and gave her a warm smile.

“Look at yourself. You are skin and bones, kid. This is no way to live.”

Astrid pushed back.

“You can’t leave! You are our leader. Without you, Elincia and I will kill each other before spring ends!”

Risha feared Astrid was right. The two girls were more alike than either of them wanted to admit—violent tomboys who adored Mister Lowell. The problem arose when Mister Lowell began to show a preference for Elincia. Risha couldn’t blame him. Some people just clicked. Lowell told Risha, in confidence, that Elincia reminded him of a wayward student he had years ago.

Mister Lowell wasn’t their father, so no orphan expected equal treatment. Most Farcrest orphans didn’t expect anything at all, yet Mister Lowell had given them everything. Astrid was the only one who expected that extra push, as beastfolk usually got fiercely attached to their family. Mister Lowell liked Astrid a lot, but disciplined students were typically overlooked because they gave little to no problems.

“Mister Lowell would’ve wanted you two to get along,” Risha said, knowing that was Astrid’s magic word. If you wanted Astrid to do something, you must mention Lowell. Risha avoided doing it but was willing to adopt desperate measures this time.

Astrid sighed.

Despite her surly expression, Astrid was a gentle soul. Everyone in the orphanage was, and Risha believed such was Mister Lowell’s mark. Kids imitate their parents. Orphans imitated Mister Lowell.

“I know. I will. When you return, you’ll see I haven’t picked a single fight with her. It’s a promise.”

“I need you to do something else for me,” Risha said, pulling his goodbye letter from his pocket and handing it to Astrid. “Tell Elincia this is for the best. She doesn’t have to forgive me, and she doesn’t have to return my letters. Tell her she has to take care of everyone, and with my first paycheck, she can buy cake for everyone.” 

Astrid nodded, her eyes reddened and glassy.

“I will do that, but you must do something for me. Come back alive.”

Risha trapped Astrid in a hug. She was skinnier than her clothes revealed, but that only steeled his resolve. Surprisingly enough, Astrid hugged him back.

“I’ll take care of everyone here. You focus on leveling up and surviving.” She let go.

Risha smiled. He needed that peace of mind. Still, he regretted not being there for Astrid’s fifteenth birthday, but he couldn’t risk Elincia returning earlier than expected. Risha pulled his knife from his belt and offered the handle to the girl. It wasn’t the most elegant knife; on the contrary, it was more functional than ornamental, but it was Risha’s only belonging.

Astrid looked at it.

“I can’t take it. Mister Lowell gave you this.”

“He gave it to me, so it’s mine, and I can do whatever I want, and I want you to have it.” Risha smiled.

“Thank you,” Astrid awkwardly said.

Risha turned around and returned to the manor before he could change his mind.

“Take care, Slimebrains!” Astrid shouted.

“Take care, Fleabag!” Risha replied.

* * *

Astrid, however, wasn’t the final boss.

Risha snuck his way through the manor. Ginz must’ve been oversleeping because the kids weren’t in the kitchen having breakfast—if plain watery oats could be called breakfast at all. Silently, Risha entered the reception hall and was about to reach the door when he saw Ilya sitting on the old couch.

The little gnome was sleeping with her arms crossed like a tiny, cranky hag.

“Hey, if you sleep here, you’ll catch a cold,” Risha whispered.

Ilya opened her little eyes.

“I’m waiting for Elincia. I’m hungry.”

Everyone was hungry and tired lately.

Risha rummaged through his backpack and pulled out a small piece of bread. He planned to eat it during the trip to the frontline, but he would manage to scavenge something. Ilya grabbed the bread, smelled it, and tucked it into her pocket.

“To share with Zaon later,” she yawned.

Risha’s heart faltered.

“Ilya… I need to do something important. While I’m away, I want you to help Elincia and Astrid to take care of the orphanage.”

“Don't I do that already?” She replied with her tiny voice.

Risha smiled and placed a kiss on the top of her head.

“Of course you do, you sassy little chipmunk,” he said, closing Ilya’s eyes. The girl fell back, exhausted. “Sleep well and… I’m sorry.”

* * *

Risha walked quickly through the Northern District just in case Elincia’s trip had ended early. Farcrest was the same as ever, yet Risha couldn’t help but see it with different eyes. In the taverns, people said the Farlands Campaign would be remembered as the biggest disaster in Ebros' history. Risha thought the same. But the pay was too good.

There was a great chance Risha wouldn’t live to see the Elven Kingdoms on the other side of the Farlands, but meeting the elves wasn’t his goal. His goal was to buy time for Elincia and Ginz to cultivate their Classes so they could make a profit. He had to survive only a year or two.

The soldiers were gathering in the Great Hall’s front yard.

“Excuse me—”

“You are late. Over there, in the left corner,” the guardsman replied.

A caravan led by a veteran with his face warped by scars was getting ready to depart. The rest of the squad didn’t seem more friendly, and Risha wondered if he had been assigned to a penitentiary squad.

Risha approached. His orc blood's saving grace was that he was usually the tallest of any group.

“I’m Risha, reporting for duty,” he introduced himself.

The caravan leader glanced at him from head to toe. Then, he turned to his second-in-command and extended his hand. His lieutenant handed him a golden coin with a frustrated sigh. 

“I told you it wasn’t going to be a girl.”