MYHLF Vol. 1 Mission 2 Part 1

Mission 2: Improving the Living Environment and a Rescue Request

After receiving the Blessing, Philz’s life changed a little.

“Yes, yes, very well done. With this, you can properly reinforce this spring.”

“I see… So the reason this part needs to be fixed in place is to support the reinforced section here.”

Fasara, the Goddess of Technique, sat across from him, and at this moment, they were in the middle of making a clock.

In this manner, whenever Philz was alone in his room, the Gods began to manifest and converse with him. They appeared before he realized it, so at first, he was often startled, but gradually, he grew used to it. Apparently, Gods were generally invisible to anyone who had not received that God’s Blessing or divine protection. Of course, they could also make themselves visible, but that was troublesome, so they did not bother unless they had business with a high-ranking priest.

Incidentally, it seemed they visited this town’s eccentric Head Priest quite often, grumbling to him and listening to his complaints in return. That must have been how fond they were of him.

“Hey, Fasara. If I wanted to add user permissions to this too, how should I do that?”

The Gods had compelled Philz to call them by name. They had asked him to adore them as he would friends, parents, older brothers, or older sisters. Thus, he addressed them casually, spoke to them in informal language, and even consulted them like this.

“I was thinking that since a clock is still a clock, it would be enough if no one else but the owner could open it. However, if someone steals it while it’s open, then that won’t mean anything, right?”

Its form was that of a pocket watch. He was planning to give it a lid that could be closed, given he added user permissions to it. The problem was how to differentiate the owner from everyone else, and how to make someone think there was no point in stealing it.

“Indeed… Assuming tampering with the clockwork itself is impossible…”

At that moment, Saul, the God of Commerce, manifested.

“Why not add some value to it, such as protection?”

“Saul… I see… As merchandise, the power of protection would likely become its main value rather than the clock function. I can add a function to the lid that prevents anyone but the owner from opening it… and make it so that once it’s closed, it can never be opened again by anyone else.”

Opening the lid would also seem to serve as proof of identity.

Saul offered further advice.

“If someone tries to force it open, make the hands stop. You could also make it break, but… that would be a waste. It would be better still if the time corrected itself properly once it returned to its owner.”

Since it could be used as proof of the owner instead of simply being stolen and that being the end of it, he could also expect it to be returned to the owner properly.

“…The enchantment side sounds like the harder part…”

“Hahaha. You should consult Aklas about that.”

“Understood.”

It seemed he had no choice but to research it with Aklas, the God of Magic. That, too, would be enjoyable.

“Well then. I suppose I should be returning soon.”

“Yeah. Thank you, Fasara. I can see the end now.”

“Hehehe. Be careful not to overwork yourself too much.”

“Make it quickly, this will sell really well.”

“That’s all you ever say, Saul…”

“Hahaha. Ah, yes. I shall give you this.”

“…What is it?”

Since Saul was offering to give him something for free, Philz grew somewhat wary. As the God who presided over commerce, everything Saul gave him was an investment from Saul’s perspective.

What appeared before him were a pot, a magic cooking stove, a small water pitcher, a kitchen knife, and a ladle.

“…Cooking utensils?”

“The one of Bounty said she wanted cooking to develop quickly as well. Well, you received a recipe book from that one, did you not?”

“Yeah…”

“She says she wants to eat fluffy bread.”

“…Is it okay if I bake it in a pot…?”

“You can make it in a pot!? Bring it to the altar once you have baked it!”

“O-Okay…”

The Gods were apparently able to bring objects here, but they could not take anything back from this place. For Philz to hand something over to them, he had to offer it on an altar. A simple altar would also work, but there seemed to be a weight limit, so he could not send much through one. The fact that Saul had specifically told him to bring it to the altar meant he wanted plenty of bread, enough for all Ten Gods.

“Ah, right. I was also told to have you serve your mother some of your own cooking. Also, it would be good to let her breathe the outside air.”

“…Thank you… I’ll try.”

“Mm.”

With that, the two Gods returned.

It was raining today, so Philz could not attend the swordsmanship lesson held outside. The other teachers were also in the main building, giving lessons to the first wife’s children.

Thanks to that, Philz had the entire day free. Days like this were not uncommon, and with the rain, he did not feel the need to go into town either. At times like these, the things that the Gods had given him came in handy. Making bags was fun, and looking through cooking recipes was fun as well.

Whether it was cooking or anything else, Philz was the type who wanted to prepare all his ingredients perfectly before starting. Therefore, he had already used idle days like this to prepare yeast. However, baking bread required a kiln or an oven and he could not exactly use the mansion’s kitchen either. Due to that, he had not been able to actually cook much at all.

“I have some jam too… I guess I’ll try making something.”

If he had a pot sized for camping, he could manage somehow. Once the bread was made, he could put it into the special Magic Bag he had made and preserve it by stopping time. He decided that he would spend the day baking all kinds of bread.

Philz loved devoting himself thoroughly to a single task. And so, until he was told that it was time for dinner, he continued mass-producing bread without pause.

—

That morning, he was in a good mood. It seemed he would be able to take lessons for the first time in a while. Philz liked studying. When it came to math problems, the more difficult and time-consuming they were, the better, and he also enjoyed learning various languages. The only subject he struggled with was history. It was not that he disliked history. Rather, he always found himself thinking that reading books would be enough. Besides, when something caught his attention, he wanted to investigate it himself, so it left him feeling restless.

As for breakfast, it seemed another new maid had fallen prey to the first wife’s fangs, and there was poison mixed into the soup. He wished they would stop, since it kept him from knowing what the soup actually tasted like.

“Haa… That’s why I told them to put it in the tea…”

“U-Um… Y-Young Master…”

The maid was trembling, apparently unable to hear the words he had muttered under his breath.

“Never mind, I’ll brew my own tea too. Take it away.”

“Y-Yes, sir!”

The maid ran away, making loud clattering noises as she went.

After heaving a deep sigh, Philz brewed some tea. The tea leaves were a Philz original: oolong tea with a crisp aftertaste. It helped him calm down a little.

“…I have some time, so… I suppose I’ll go see her.”

Then, on impulse, he headed to his mother’s room.

His mother, Clarus, perhaps wishing to put even more distance between herself and the main building, stayed in a room on the northern side where little sunlight reached.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Mother, it’s Philz. I’m coming in.”

Even if he knocked, there would be no answer anyway. A cold breakfast had been left in front of the door. After glancing at it, he entered without waiting for a response.

The room was in shambles. She seemed to be mentally worn down. The sheer fabric hanging from the bed canopy had been shredded to ribbons, and the cushions had been ripped open, scattering what little cotton they had inside. A wooden chair meant for one person lay toppled in an odd place, as though it had been thrown against the wall.

The closet had been left open. The dresses that should have been inside were wrinkled and thrown across the floor. Even the curtains, which had always been kept closed, seemed to have been forcibly yanked open until they tore, leaving them useless.

“Haa…”

As for Clarus herself, she was sitting curled up in the far corner of the room, her face lowered.

“Mother, please eat. At least drink some water. And… enough is enough. We should clean this room.”

The room was fairly spacious, so there was still somewhere to step, but even though he had been cleaning it once a week since he received his Blessing about a month ago, this was what happened every time. At this point, the fabric and other materials were simply going to waste.

Then a frail voice sounded.

“…A room… will just be made new again… because this is a ducal house… Money… money can do everything… they said anything could be done with money… I was… only bought with money too…”

“…”

Only recently had Clarus finally begun to speak this much. Perhaps because Philz was a child and she thought there was no point in telling him her grievances, she had kept her mouth shut all this time.

The people in this mansion belonged to the first wife. Her husband belonged to the first wife, the man who left her alone no matter what happened. Even if she raised her voice, everyone here was her enemy. That was likely what she had thought.

Philz had also found his mother frustrating, since he could never quite understand what she was dissatisfied with, and had kept his distance from her. But ever since the day he received his Blessing, he had started peeking into her room from time to time.

Apparently, simply knowing there was someone who cared about her properly had been good for Clarus. She had gradually begun to open her mouth. And at last, he had come to understand what was in her heart.

“Yes. I’m sure money can solve anything. But… the canopy fabric I replaced the other day, the cushions, the curtains… and this chair too, are all things I made.”

“…………Eh…”

Clarus lifted her face slightly. Her eyes looked unfocused as she slowly turned toward Philz. After a while, once he confirmed that their eyes had properly met, Philz told her.

“I… no, I went into town, earned the money, bought the fabric, gathered the cotton and wood, and made them myself. I didn’t use the ducal house’s money.”

“…You… made them… earned the money…?”

“That’s right. You dislike the ducal house’s belongings, don’t you? You hate how everything is so easily solved with money. Because there’s no love in it, and that makes you sad, doesn’t it?”

“…”

Clarus’s eyes widened. Then she slowly looked around the room and saw the things she had destroyed. Clarus was wearing only a single thin undergarment, so Philz took out a soft, warm shawl and draped it over her shoulders.

“I knitted this too. Will you tear this one as well?”

“…I… I won’t…”

She shook her head hard from side to side. Her voice was trembling.

“I… I’m sorry. The things… the things you made… I broke… I broke them. I’m sorry. Please don’t… don’t hate me. I’m sorry.”

She cried like a child and clung to him. Her body was thin and emaciated. Even the shawl he had just placed over her slipped down. Philz gently stroked the back of his mother, who had become like a young girl.

“I won’t hate you. I won’t abandon you either. So let’s leave this room. This way of living is not good at all.”

“…Yes… yes…”

She must have been lonely, never having anyone look her way. Thinking about it, Clarus had been a dancer and storyteller. She had always been someone who drew people’s eyes. Now that had suddenly vanished, so he could understand, at least somewhat, why she had broken down. Completely changing the way one lived was difficult.

“Mother… Mother, do you love me or Father more?”

“You!”

She answered immediately.

“Then what is it that you hate? Lamenting that Father won’t come back is a waste of time, isn’t it? A man like that should be wrapped up with a ribbon and slapped right back to the first wife.”

“…”

Her expression looked as though something had peeled away and fallen from her.

“Haven’t you already forgotten his face?”

“…Forgotten… ah…”

She should not have seen her husband for ten years now. Could someone truly remember after going that long without meeting? Did that much affection still remain within Clarus?

“Why not forget someone like him and go back to the way you used to be… the you who laughed and danced? I want to hear your storytelling again.”

“I… I… can’t dance any…”

“You can. So please eat properly and get well. Mother, Ryula’s divine protection is strong in you. That’s why, even after growing this thin, you still have the strength to rip apart the fabric. You still have the strength to throw a chair, don’t you?”

“…Ah…”

At that moment, Ryula, the Goddess of Life, manifested.

“Hehehe. Honestly, you’ve grown so thin. What a troublesome child you are.”

“Eh? Eh? A… Goddess?”

“That’s right. Now get well and live properly. And then show me your dance again.”

After conveying only that, Ryula vanished. Philz took Clarus’s hand as she stood there in a daze and began walking.

“First, we’re going to my room. You’ll eat there. Once you’re able to move, please tidy up this room.”

“Eh…”

“Are you going to make the maids in this mansion clean up the things I made? You can tidy up, can’t you?”

“O-Of course I can…”

When he smiled at her teasingly, he felt as though some of the strength from the old days returned to Clarus’s eyes. And so, Philz succeeded in getting his mother, Clarus, finally out of her room.

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