The Sword Sage Picks up Girls in Another World

Freya watched with interest as the boy did battle with his domineering adversary. Ottar had set up a magical viewing construct in the room he had cornered the young adventurer in, after luring the dragon there of course. Freya almost couldn’t believe the remarkable chance that the foolish child had given them, and she had watched eagerly in anticipation of the boy’s demise. A demise that never came.

She watched as Adama demonstrated sublime skill in holding the monster off, taking every opportunity he could to strike at the creature’s vulnerabilities. The boy fought valiantly, and he slayed an opponent that had nearly every advantage over him on paper. She watched in disbelief as the Monster Rex of the upper floors keened its last and fell over dead and was further incensed when she realized that the boy still lived. In a fit of irritation, she almost had Ottar finish him off. But then the Sword Princess and Loki’s Amazons showed up. Killing the child quietly would prove impossible with them present.

Reluctantly, she recalled Ottar, who had been watching stealthily with the aid of an invisibility tool. There were other covert mechanisms that she could resort to that would be more certain than the Dungeon. A knife in the back from an Upper-Level adventurer wasn’t her preferred choice, as Hestia would probably suspect her. But it seemed to be her most certain tool remaining. If the enhanced Infant Dragon didn’t work, then she didn’t know what would. It wasn’t like they could lure the Goliath up to the 12th floor.

But as she was planning Adama’s demise, something held her back. She had watched the entire fight with consternation, but as memories of the frenetic confrontation came back to her, she began to feel something strange. It started as a tightness in her chest, and she realized that her heart was beating faster as she recalled the boy’s heroics. She looked in a mirror and realized that she was blushing.

Watching the fight had left her excited and interested in a way that she hadn’t felt in a long time. It was a feeling that the gods, bored as they often were, treasured when they could find it. She had seen fights against monsters before, but nothing like what she had seen from this child. His skill and heroism in the face of what should have been certain death was burned into her memory. And, simply speaking, she wanted to see more. She couldn’t bring herself to give the order to have Adama assassinated because she couldn’t bring herself to cut off this new avenue of excitement. She wanted to play with her new toy until it broke.

With a coy smile, she cast her eyes over the city from her high perch, gazing at the various ants that scurried below but thinking of the child:

“I wonder how long you will survive my attentions, little swordsman?” She murmured, eyes sparkling with a mirth more fearsome than malice.

…

The aftermath of the battle was a blur. Adama had remained semi-conscious after his fight, so it was in a fog that he felt himself be picked up and carried away from where he had fallen. He tasted the dregs of a health recovery elixir in his mouth, and it wasn’t long before most of his pain vanished as the potion worked its magic on him. The exhaustion remained however, so he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep as his body was carted out of the Dungeon.

The next thing he remembered; he woke up in a hospital bed. He wasn’t alone this time, though. Hestia sat at his bedside, reading her book, seemingly waiting for him to wake. When she heard him stir, the book snapped shut and orange eyes considered the recuperating swordsman. She was the first to speak as his mind was still clouded with the fog of sleep:

“I heard about what happened from the adventurers you saved, as well as the pretty blonde-haired girl who picked you up.”

She waggled her eyebrows at him, a jester’s smile dancing across her face. The humor changed to admiration and pride as she gazed at him longer. She raised her hand to his face and touched his cheek affectionately:

“I’m proud of you, Tim.”

Adama allowed this treatment a beat longer than he would ever admit, before pulling away from her touch grumpily, muttering:

“Not much to it, was there? Just needed to put a wayward lizard in its place, after all. The others were lucky to make it out alive. Is Lilli okay?”

She nodded, informing him that his prum companion was in good health, before raising an eyebrow:

“Maybe it was luck that let them live, sure. But didn’t you need luck to come back home as well?”

“A real warrior makes his own luck.”

“Hmmm? If you say so.”

“…Okay, maybe I was a little lucky. But your sword did a lot of the heavy lifting as well, so thanks for that.”

She smiled again as he gestured at the blade that she had gone to such lengths to attain for him:

“It’s our blade, Tim. Especially since you are going to be the one doing the dirty work of paying off the loan. Speaking of money, we got the monster core from the adventurers who brought you home. It sold for 75,000. I tried to give 30% to Lilli, but she wouldn’t have it, insisting you did all the work. The dragon also dropped an item.”

She pointed to the corner, where a long green leather roll was leaning diagonally against the wall. Its emerald surface was irregular, like it was scaled, and it glittered a little with reflected afternoon sunlight:

“Dragon’s hide. Another little benefit from your heroics. Maybe we can finally get you some decent armor at a price we can afford.”

He nodded, silently. That sounded like a good idea:

“Any other surprises for me?”

“Oh, right, there was one other thing I needed your opinion on…”

…

Tim didn’t spend much time healing. Per Hestia’s orders, he stayed in the hospital overnight again, but the doctor’s healing magic and recovery elixirs had him healthy and whole again the next morning. The next week or so was a flurry of activity, as Hestia showed him what she wanted his input on, and he gave his approval. That activity only increased when she updated his status again, and his subsequent report to the Guild caused a minor riot. The following days were filled with him filling out documents and taking care of various projects, a largely boring process that he balked at. Hestia argued that he needed the rest even if there wasn’t any paperwork, so he put off Dungeon diving for the week.

As much as he hated the tedium of the process, the results at the end were worth it.

Hestia, Tim and Lilli stared up at the two-story house that Hestia Familia had just purchased. It was a pleasant sunset orange, with two bedrooms and a cot in the basement, not to mention a large living room with a nice fireplace on the bottom floor. Hestia’s symbol, a blazing fire surrounded by concentric circles, was emblazoned on the door. But this symbol was a bit different than the one on Tim’s back, as it had a single, double-edged longsword in its center. It vertically divided the flame and was etched with various small runes. Adding the sword was a sign that Tim captained the Familia, of course, and it represented the new insignia ofHestia Familia.

The people themselves had gone through a transformation as well. Hestia had her hair done up in a bun, pinned in place with a gold and amber hairpin, and she wore her new green dress with the copper stitching for this exciting occasion. Lilli had splurged on a cream-colored dress with golden hems, and both ladies looked radiant as they stared up at the new home with identical grins.

Adama himself was probably the most usual looking of them all. He had eschewed the formal wear, unwilling to get all dressed up unless he had to. He was dressed for war, but he had shed the ratty leather armor and black cloak that he wore normally. Now, his body was covered in a brilliant green mail that shimmered in the light of the sunset. The dragon’s hide flowed down his front toward boots made of the same material. Behind him flapped a black cloak, reminiscent of early days though made of sturdier material. At his side was Hearthblade, its milky white scabbard, silver cross guard, and blackwood handle providing a handsome finishing touch.

Truth be told, he felt he looked a little too flashy, but it was functional, so he didn’t complain. Hestia and Lilli had been very appreciative of his outfit, so that was something at least. As they stared up at their new home, Lilli was the first to break the silence:

“I can’t believe you’ve managed to purchase a brand-new home already, Mr. Tim! And you’ve hit Level 2 as well! That must be some kind of record!”

That was the revelation that had caused such a fuss at the Guild. Leveling up was something that needed to be reported to the Guild, so he had dutifully done so when he had gotten his status updated after his duel with the dragon. They had badgered him with numerous questions about how he did it and encouraged him to detail his tactics in writing, which he reluctantly had. He had left out information about his Skill, though, and they could die and rot if that was a problem. But yes, apparently, he had set some kind of record by leveling up in a month-and-a-half. Not that he cared to compare himself to others.

“You can call me Tim, Lilli. No need to be formal.” He said, wrapped up in musings about what the future would look like as he stared up at the domicile.

Lilli began to protest about the need for proper respect and the amazing nature of Tim’s accomplishments, but Hestia gently interrupted her:

“Why don’t we go inside? It’s getting dark after all.”

They had closed the deal on the house a couple of days ago, with Hestia only needing Tim’s sign off, but she hadn’t let either of them in the new house until she had finished decorating. Tonight was the celebration of the proper opening of the Hestia Familia’s new home. They all filed inside, and Lilli chatted with Hestia about how pretty the decorations were and how thoughtfully everything was placed. Hestia seemed quite proud of herself as she explained her reasoning for why she had placed certain things where they were, causing Lilli to nod seriously and ask intelligent questions.

Tim mostly tuned them out as he looked around the living room, leaving the atrium. Paintings on the wall told stories of cheery winter days and celebrations, reminding him that winter was coming soon. Had Hestia bought different sets of paintings for different seasons? Or was she planning on going shopping for new paintings in springtime? Either way, they reminded him of the masterworks that he had admired back in Cradle. They demonstrated a similar mastery, but also exuded a kind of warmth and cheer that he hadn’t seen even from the most capable painters of his world. In conjunction with the rest of the décor of the living room, they gave him a warmth that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Looking around, slightly dumbstruck at this uncharacteristic bout of homesickness, he finally laid eyes on the woman who made all this possible. Standing in the doorway, she watched him with a small smile, her eyes telling him that she could see right through him. He surreptitiously wiped a couple tears away and she graciously pretended she hadn’t seen them. She was simply happy she had made a good impact on the child who had done so much for her. She was the first to break their silence:

“Welcome home, Tim.”

He paused, before giving her a full grin, green eyes twinkling candidly:

“It’s good to be back.”