bookpub Chapter 44 Holiday
Chapter 44 Holiday
During this month-long holiday, Fafnir didn't want to stay at school anymore; he planned to go home and spend time with Clint and Elisa.
At the edge of the square at Lorraine Manor, Fafnir alighted from his carriage and walked towards the east side of the square.
Clint told him in a letter last month that they had rented a small house near the manor square, not far from Lorraine Castle.
Clint seemed very excited while writing the letter; some of his handwriting was so illegible that Fafner could hardly recognize it.
"...On the ground, there are windows, sunlight, and a little yard... Little Fafnir, you'll see when you come back, our family is different now!"
The moonlight barely illuminated the road ahead. Fafner followed the address in the letter and walked for about ten minutes along a gravel path.
An oil lamp hung by the doorway; the small, detached house had gray-white stone walls, and the door frame was painted a pale green.
Fafnir knocked on the door, and within seconds, before he could even call out, Clint had already run out of the house.
"My little Fafnir!" Clint hugged him tightly.
"Good evening, Dad. I'm home."
"Good evening, come in, come in. We have a kitchen now, and your mother has made something delicious. Were you tired from the journey? Was the carriage comfortable?"
Clint led him into the house as he spoke.
Fafnir looked around the small house.
The living room was very clean and tidy. A square dining table was covered with a light-colored tablecloth, and several ceramic jars and a bunch of dried flowers were placed on the cabinet against the wall.
"Dad, the living room is so nice."
"Right?" Clint stood by the table, his smile barely concealed. "One silver coin a month for rent, and it's close to the castle."
Your mother and I discussed it and used our savings to buy a few things. We can't live like we used to.
Elisa came out of the kitchen carrying a plate with several pieces of golden-brown fried bread.
"Good evening, my dear little Fafnir!" Elisa greeted him with a smile.
Good evening, Mom!
"There was no other way before," Elisa said, placing the plate on the table.
"Now that Fafnir is a second-level assistant priest, we can't be too outrageous."
Fafner picked up a piece of bread; it was already spread with butter, soft and fluffy with a subtle sweetness.
He watched his parents moving in and out of the kitchen and living room, serving dishes and setting out bowls and chopsticks.
Clint took a bottle of wine from the cabinet, uncorked it, smelled it, thought for a moment, and then put it back.
The dishes were served: a thick chicken broth topped with fragrant shredded herbs; and a salad of eggs, olives, and potatoes with dressing.
Fafnir ate a lot, even more than he did in the school cafeteria.
"Mom, I really can't eat anymore."
Elisa smiled, ate the last piece of chicken, and Clint took out the bottle of wine, uncorked it, poured himself a small glass, took a sip, and sighed.
"We used to think about saving money, saving enough money while we were employed... but now we've come to a different conclusion."
Elisa chimed in, "So what if you've saved up some money?"
I used to always think about saving money, believing that having money would give my family peace of mind. Even if things were tough now, I thought the future would be better.
Later, I saw the letter you sent back. You said you had become an assistant priest and were receiving a stipend.
I read that letter several times, and then I told your father, "We just want to make little Fafnir's life better right now."
"Everything else is secondary," Clint slowly finished his drink, put down the glass, and looked at Fafnir:
"Little Fafnir, we're at ease knowing you're doing well now. We can always make more money later."
Fafnir opened his mouth, as if to say something.
He picked up the soup bowl in front of him and took a big gulp. The soup had cooled down, and the salty taste spread across his tongue.
"Dad, Mom, I will study hard."
“We know,” Clint said, “but you don’t need to push yourself too hard; you’re only nine years old.”
Fafnir opened his mouth, then closed it again.
That night, Fafnir lay in bed, covered with a brand-new quilt that smelled of sunshine.
The ledger appeared before his eyes.
Mr. Viktor taught him the spells he was given using a guiding technique. As Fafnir fully mastered them, the inscription "Owner: Viktor Zaitsev" disappeared.
The number for Spiritual Training (Basic) is full (100/100).
The ledger contains entries that have recently appeared:
Total spiritual resources: 25 (standard spiritual units)
This is still short of the 50 standard spiritual units recommended by Mr. Victor for practicing Fireball.
Fafnir had read in a book that one standard spiritual unit was basically the spiritual value consumed when casting a first-order elemental spell.
Fafner stared at that number for a long time.
Spiritual growth cannot be rushed.
The chirping of insects in the yard outside the window was incessant, and Clint's snoring had already begun.
The new quilt is very warm, much more comfortable than the thin blanket in the school dormitory.
He was thinking about what his parents had said that evening.
"We can earn money later, but we're at ease as long as you're doing well."
When Clint said this, his eyes were bright, as if a heavy burden had been lifted from them.
Their previous frantic saving wasn't just for the future, but also to combat a certain fear—the fear of some unexpected event, the fear that one day life in the Holy Kingdom would become unsustainable.
They are not afraid now.
At least I'm not so scared anymore.
The morning bell rang at six o'clock. When Fafnir opened his eyes, Clint had already left, and Elisa was busy in the kitchen.
"Mom, did Dad go to the estate so early?"
"Yes, it's the end of the month and the accounts need to be reconciled, so he has to go early," Elisa said, bringing out a bowl of hot porridge and placing it on the table.
"Little Fafnir, let's have breakfast now. We've never had breakfast before."
The porridge was very thick, and the rice grains had already split open. Fafnir took a sip, hissed from the heat, but couldn't bear to spit it out.
"Is it good?" Elisa sat down opposite him, her eyes filled with anticipation.
"It tastes especially good."
Fafnir only read books today and did not practice any spells. He did not know where he could practice at Lorraine Manor, but he had already mentioned it to Elisa.
At night,
"Your dad said to ask Cecilia," Alyssa said as she returned home.
"He's the estate's treasurer, and he's on good terms with the Lorraine family's guards."
He wrote a letter asking Cecilia if she could find a suitable place for you to practice near the manor.
Fafnir had no idea that his parents had already thought of this for him.
Has Cecilia replied?
"Not yet, little Fafnir. You can stay home and read for a while. Don't rush."
……
"Thump, thump"
Fafnir found it strange; his parents had already gone to work, so who was knocking on the door?
Cecilia stood outside the door, wearing light leather armor and a short sword hanging at her waist.
There was another person standing next to him.
Joël Lorraine.