Chapter 84: Dog Talk

Chapter 84: Chapter 84: Dog Talk

"The money you’re spending on chugging potions could’ve paid for proper lessons from an Elder Mage."

In Mr. Jonathan’s mind, such a frenetic frequency and duration of Magic casting could only be the result of burning through cash on potions, which was clearly not cost-effective.

Hesia just smiled and didn’t explain.

...

Back at 122 Feipu Lane, Thomas rushed over the moment Hesia pushed open the courtyard gate.

"Brother Galen, why did you train so late? I wanted Blair to meet you, but I waited forever and you never came out..."

’Blair?’ Hesia had to think for a moment to remember. He was the friend Thomas had mentioned yesterday, the one with a Black Iron IV brother.

"Why did he want to see me?"

Thomas said with a pout, "He was bragging to me again today about how his brother took down a few goblins all by himself a couple of days ago! He said that with his brother teaching him, he’ll become an Adventurer sooner or later, and he laughed at me, saying I don’t stand a chance!"

"So I told him that a Black Iron III Adventurer brother was renting a room at my house! And he didn’t even believe me!"

He paused, then added with a hint of pride, "And I didn’t even tell him that my sister Zoya is a Silver Adventurer!"

This kind of "my big brother is stronger than your big brother" rivalry was perfectly normal among boys this age.

The thought was a bit naive and silly, but Hesia had been that age once, too.

He crouched down and patted Thomas on the shoulder. "Your sister Zoya is amazing, and that’s definitely something to be proud of.

"But have you ever thought... that maybe ten years from now, when people talk about you, they won’t say ’that’s the kid with the amazing sister’?

"Instead, your sister Zoya will proudly tell everyone, ’See him? That incredible Adventurer is my little brother!’"

Thomas mumbled, "Me...? How could I ever be as strong as my sister Zoya? She’s Silver Level. I’m too scared to even speak if she glares at me."

"Who said you have to compare yourself to a Silver Level Adventurer right now?" Hesia coaxed him gently. "It’s like when you work at the training grounds. Mr. Jonathan didn’t have you start as a sparring partner right away, did he? You have to take it one step at a time."

Thomas blinked, seeming to only half-understand.

After a moment’s thought, he said, a little frustrated, "Mr. Jonathan guides us sometimes when he’s not busy, but I always feel like that basic training is useless.

"I don’t want to be a sparring partner forever, and I can’t learn Magic, so that’s why I wanted to ask my sister Zoya to teach me something else..."

Hesia recalled the faint red halo representing level 19 that he had seen when he used [Assessment Skill] on Jonathan today.

A level didn’t perfectly represent one’s combat ability, but it was enough to show that the bald boss was definitely a master in hiding, likely even stronger than Zoya.

"Are you a little scared of Mr. Jonathan?"

Thomas’s face flushed slightly. "N-No."

"Alright," he admitted after a moment. "Maybe a little. It’s just that he looks exactly like that ’Blood Axe’ Slag from the wanted posters, and he’s super harsh with us during training."

Hesia suppressed a laugh and said seriously, "Trust me, Thomas. Mr. Jonathan is much more powerful than you can imagine. If you really want to become an Adventurer, training seriously under him is absolutely your best choice."

"Really?" Thomas was skeptical.

"Of course."

...

After enjoying the cream of pumpkin soup and signature roasted meat pie that Lady Cassandra had specially saved for him, Hesia returned to the second floor, satisfied.

He pushed open his door, ready to greet a certain furry friend, only to find the room empty.

"Hm? Where’s Bruce?"

He was a little confused. ’I’m sure I didn’t see him in the living room downstairs. Did I miss him?’

He recalled telling the little guy that morning that he couldn’t come along to the training grounds. Bruce hadn’t made a sound at the time.

’He wouldn’t actually throw a tantrum and run away, would he?’ Hesia muttered to himself as a flicker of worry surfaced.

He backed out of his room and decided to check next door to see if Zoya had seen Bruce.

He could also take the opportunity to ask her about her meeting with Captain Hulk and if there was anything he needed to know.

When he reached Zoya’s door, he raised his hand to knock, but his motion froze.

Faint, halting voices could be heard from inside the room.

One voice, soft and gentle, spoke with a slightly unnatural pause: "Crea...m of...pump...kin...soup...is...good."

Another voice, with the characteristic growl of a dog, seemed to be trying to correct her. "Wrong! It has to flow! ’Cream of pumpkin soup is good’—listen, ’Pump-kin-soup—’, don’t break it up! Again!"

"...Crea...m of pumpkin soup...is...good..."

"A little better! But it’s still choppy! ’Is good’! Not ’is...good’! Repeat after me—’Iiisss gooood—’!"

"...Is good..."

"Mm! Much better this time! Again! Connect the first part! ’Cream of pumpkin soup’—"

"...Cream of pumpkin soup..."

"Almost! You’re almost there! Hold it! ’Is good’!"

"...Is good..."

"Connect them! Quick! ’Cream of pumpkin soup’—’is good’!"

"...Cream of pumpkin soup is good."

"Yes! Perfect! Remember that feeling! Next one, ’Another bowl, please’! Repeat after me—’A-no-ther-bowl-please’!"

Hesia: "..."

He understood what was happening.

Zoya had actually taken his joke about "letting Bruce teach you how to talk" seriously and had put it into action so quickly.

Picturing the scene—an Elf and a dog-headed creature sitting primly in the room, engrossed in a serious language lesson—Hesia couldn’t help but smile.

He suppressed his smile, moved his hovering hand forward, and knocked on the door.

Unexpectedly, the door creaked open a crack with his knock.

The door hadn’t been locked at all.

The scene inside the room came into view.

Zoya was sitting cross-legged on the floor.

Her hands were propped on her knees, her body leaning forward slightly, looking like an attentive student.

And Bruce, like a private tutor, was squatting opposite her, a serious expression on his doggy face, his paw raised in the air, bobbing up and down with the rhythm of the pronunciation.

Hesia’s sudden appearance brought the lesson to an abrupt halt.

Zoya seemed to be preparing for a new round of pronunciation practice. "A..."

The word died on her lips as the figure suddenly appeared in the doorway.

She looked up, her astonished purple eyes meeting Hesia’s amused gaze.

Their eyes met, and the air seemed to freeze for a few seconds.

Zoya seemed to want to show off her successful practice.

She fluently spoke the sentence she had practiced the most under Bruce’s guidance that day:

"Master, welcome home."

Her pronunciation was still a bit awkward, but it was much more standard than before.

Hesia: (・◇・)?

Bruce slapped his paw on the floor. SLAP! He corrected her in a fit of exasperation, "Wrong, wrong! Not ’Master’! It’s ’Hesia’! Woof, no, no! It’s woof woof woof woof woof!"

Hesia: Σ(ʘдʘ)!!

Inside the room, two people and one dog stared at each other.