Hell Mode: Volume 2, page 1
part #2 of Hell Mode Series
Chapter 1: Daily Life in the Granvelle Residence
It was now the end of October. Allen was currently in the garden of the residence belonging to Baron Granvelle, lord of this fiefdom. The place was beautifully maintained by the house gardener.
Allen thought back to the day he had first started as a manservant of House Granvelle. He had just arrived together with the baron after a five-day journey from Krena Village. Along the way, the procession had stopped at the village where Allen’s parents were originally from, but he did not get the chance to meet his grandparents. He planned on going back by himself someday.
Thirty or so servants had lined up to greet Baron Granvelle when he arrived home. Of these servants, the baron had instructed Allen to learn the ropes from Rickel, the head manservant. Rickel was a young man with freckles and brown hair who looked to be around eighteen years old. Apparently he was a rather lazy worker, as the butler had warned Allen to not pick up his work ethic.
Although Rickel often skipped work, he was good at caring for others. He would always answer any question asked of him; he would even answer the questions no one had asked. So when Allen had a spare moment, he asked Rickel the difference between a houseboy and a manservant. As it turned out, the two were very different.
There was an established hierarchy among the service staff. Allen wrote down the whole list in his grimoire, in order of superiority:
butler, housekeeper
gentleman-in-waiting, lady-in-waiting, head chef
coachman, cook, gardener
manservant, maidservant
The butler, housekeeper, head chef, and gentlemen- and ladies-in-waiting were all considered upper servants. They each commanded great authority and were to be obeyed. The butler and housekeeper oversaw the entirety of the male and female staff, respectively.
The coachmen, chefs, gardeners, and maid- and manservants were considered lower servants. Houseboys and housemaids were not even considered actual servants, and were, in so many words, just the help.
In addition to the hierarchy of the serving staff, Rickel also let Allen in on an important fact regarding noble families. As it turned out, the concept of “family” among the nobility of this world was at odds with Allen’s understanding of it from his prior life. That is to say, nobles here considered servants to be part of their family.
Allen finally understood why Rodin had been so happy that he had started crying when Baron Granvelle offered to hire Allen. That offer to become a manservant had, at the same time, been an offer to join the Granvelle family.
It was not easy to become a noble’s manservant, even for a commoner. In fact, it was difficult enough becoming a houseboy, and yet Allen had gone straight from serf to manservant. Baron Granvelle had truly gone above and beyond rewarding Rodin for saving Krena Village and contributing so greatly to its development.
Right, I’ve got to be thankful, Allen reminded himself as he thought back to what Rickel had told him.
“Allen, stand taller! You’re my manservant, aren’t you?! I still can’t reach!”
Directly in front of Allen’s face was a tree. Above his head dangled a large, ripe, red fruit. He was standing beneath a large tree in the garden on the grounds with Baron Granvelle’s daughter, Cecil, sitting on his shoulders, her legs astride his neck.
Earlier, when Cecil had shot Allen a glare with her slanted, willful, crimson eyes and ordered him to come to the garden, he had thought he would be in for a beating. Instead, she told him to let her ride on his shoulders because there was fruit on a tree and she wanted to pick it. With it being the end of autumn, the fruit looked extra ripe and enticing—although she had never eaten one before, she still wanted it. However, the fruit was so high up that even an adult would not have been able to reach it. Now, up on her perch, Cecil furiously mussed up Allen’s hair in vexation.
“Lady Cecil, you might fare better if you were to stand up on my shoulders,” he offered.
“That does make sense... You won’t get off easy if you drop me! I’ll definitely tell my father on you!”
God, I feel so tempted to let her fall for real.
Ever since she had found out that she and Allen were the same age, Cecil had started seeking him out for all sorts of tasks. According to Sebas the butler, Cecil had specially requested Allen as her personal manservant. When Sebas had told Allen, “Good luck,” his eyes were filled with sympathy. There was nothing for Allen to do but sigh.
Cecil carefully positioned her feet on Allen’s shoulders, then slowly stood up. Allen held her ankles tightly to help her maintain her balance.
“How is it, Lady Cecil?”
“I still can’t reach... I can’t reach it!”
Can you please just give up already?
“In that case, how about you stand on my hands and I lift you higher?”
“Hm... Okay. Lift me up slowly.”
As he slowly lifted Cecil up, Allen ended up seeing her drawers or pumpkin panties or whatever they were called. Of course, he felt nothing from seeing an eight-year-old’s underwear. He had, after all, lived for thirty-five years before even coming to this world.
“How is it, milady?”
He heard the sound of the fruit being plucked from its branch.
“I’ve got it! Lower me slowly.”
Allen obediently brought Cecil back down to the ground. She was holding the vivid red fruit in her hands, smiling proudly. She had probably been wanting to pluck it for quite some time now. A quick wipe with her sleeves, then one big bite! The texture was apparently similar to an apple, judging by the crunch.
As Allen watched on, thinking to himself, Looks like milady is a bit of a tomboy, the smile on Cecil’s face disappeared.
“Peh! Th-This tastes awful!”
As it turned out, the fruit was very sour. Cecil threw the fruit she had worked so hard to obtain onto the ground with a huff. Allen then noticed that the same fruit was scattered across the ground in great numbers, all rotting away to some degree. The gardener had not bothered to harvest them. Apparently, this fruit was not meant to be eaten.
“Well, there’s that saying about fruit you can’t reach being sour and all.”
“I don’t know any such saying! Don’t tell me you knew this wasn’t edible?!”
“Like h— No, I was not aware of it myself.”
Phew, that was close. I almost just blurted out “Like hell I did.”
“Hmph, then it’s fine. I now want to eat a popo to get this awful taste out of my mouth. Go to the kitchen and fetch me one. If they don’t have any, go to the market and buy one.”
Gah, she’s not going to let me off the hook with just “Sorry, they didn’t have one,” is she?
With no other choice, Allen headed straight to the kitchen. He had a bad feeling, and sure enough, the head chef told him they were out of popos. It was now confirmed: he would have to go all the way to town. He explained the situation to the butler, who then gave him a silver coin. Allen would not be forced to pay for it out of his own pocket.
Allen then left through the back door used exclusively by the servants of the mansion. Generally, the servants were not allowed to use the front door.
But honestly, going into town isn’t all that bad.
As a manservant, Allen’s job basically entailed miscellaneous tasks. He would be asked to do any number of duties that may or may not have direct relevance to the care of the baron’s family. Rickel told Allen to expect to be sent out for errands quite frequently.
The feudal lord’s mansion was tucked away in a corner of the city. Upon stepping outside the grounds, Allen found himself in the nobles’ residential area, where minor nobility—such as knights and baronets—and influential members of the city lived. The market was farther beyond; to reach it on foot, it took two hours one way.
Unlike the market in Krena Village, the one in the city had a large variety of fruit available.
“Give me one popo, please.”
“Sure thing. One silver.”
When Allen had asked how many popo he should buy, Sebas had replied that one was sufficient. They were not to needlessly waste money answering the young lady’s selfish whims.
Wow, one silver for a single fruit. So expensive. Still, surprisingly, the price here is the same as it was in Krena Village.
Allen turned around and headed back with nothing more than a single popo inside his basket.
There were so many different fruits at the market just now. I wonder if there’s an orchard near this city. Wait, but it’s going to get cold soon. Do trees bear fruit during winter in this world?
It had been eight years since Allen was reborn into this world. Every once in a while, he realized how much he was still bound to the common sense of his previous world. Now that he thought about it, he recalled seeing the same fruits offered all year round, regardless of season. It was now nearing November, but the available fruit lineup was the same as in the summer. The general store back in Krena Village had stocked popo and molmo even in December.
Just as Allen was imagining a nearby orchard that produced fruit even in the dead of winter, he heard a powerful rumbling, and his surroundings were suddenly cast into shadow. There must have been something flying overhead. Even without looking, Allen could tell that it was absolutely massive, whatever it was. He lifted his gaze skyward, half expecting to see a dragon.
“Huh?! But that’s...!” Allen inadvertently exclaimed out loud with surprise.
What he saw was a rugby ball-shaped ship several dozen—no, at least a
I see, so this world has airships. Oh! Does that mean the fruits in the market are imported from tropical countries further south?
The massive size of the vessel evoked an inexplicable twinge of excitement in Allen’s chest and also gave him a hint as to how expansive this world was. He was reminded of the time when he was one year old and his father, Rodin, had pointed out albaherons—the monsters Allen’s name was derived from—high up in the sky as they migrated north for winter.
Here in Granvelle City, a place many times larger than his birthplace, Allen’s life as a manservant had just begun.
＊ ＊ ＊
It’s morning.
Allen woke up to the distinctive scent of an old wooden building, one that reminded him of libraries and museums. He had yet to get used to this smell. No light shone through the slats of the wooden window in the small room. It was November, which meant the sun had not yet risen. Nevertheless, it was time to get out of bed. Allen checked his grimoire to confirm that his MP was full again, then proceeded to spend it all training as usual.
Right now, Allen was in his private quarters. To his surprise, he had been assigned his own bedroom. At least, that was the nicer way of putting it—in reality it was little more than a storage room in the attic of the mansion. It was only about four-and-a-half square meters, or fifty square feet, and it had a rather low ceiling. There was unused furniture and dinnerware stored there, so Allen could technically only use two-thirds of the room’s space. It was therefore too cramped for a real bed, so Allen slept on a mattress on the floor.
The only reason Allen had received this room in the first place was because all of the other male servants’ quarters were fully occupied. Those were all four-person rooms, so Allen was actually quite happy about his arrangement. Having his own private space made things much more convenient for him, especially for when he wanted to test his skills or even call out smaller Summons.
It’s still double the size of a booth in an internet café. It’s more than enough.
Back in his days as Kenichi, he had gamed in internet cafés, so he knew how tiring it was to spend the night in a cubicle too cramped to stretch out his legs. With that perspective in mind, he did not have a single complaint about his current accommodations.
Allen then changed into his work clothes. The threadbare hemp outfit he had once worn as a serf had been replaced by a mostly black, well-tailored suit. He had been instructed not to get it dirty as it was his servant’s uniform. Even the casual wear that he had been sleeping in before was of a much higher quality than what he had worn mere weeks ago. After getting dressed, he descended to the servants’ dining hall on the first floor.
There were already about ten people in the servants’ dining hall. Allen had just picked up a wooden tray when Rickel, who happened to be nearby, greeted him with a “Hey there, morning,” and invited him to sit together. Allen responded to the greeting and grabbed the seat across from him. Rickel was a rather caring person and asked Allen questions like “How are things?” and “Do you have any questions?” every day.
“How’s Lady Cecil treating you?” Rickel asked this morning, looking somewhat concerned.
It was almost unheard of for a manservant to be appointed personal attendant to a member of the lord’s family immediately upon entering service. Normally, a man- or maidservant would do all the miscellaneous tasks assigned to them and, if they did a good job, might eventually catch a family member’s eye. That member would then reach out and appoint them as a personal attendant. Rickel himself was serving as the head of the other manservants because his service had not been evaluated highly enough to become a personal servant.
The two struck up a lively conversation over their breakfast of soup filled with vegetables and a pitiful amount of meat. Honestly, Allen had more meat in his diet when he was living in Krena Village, especially this year and last year.
“Oh right, yesterday...”
Allen shared how he had seen a ship flying in the sky while he was out buying a popo for Cecil the day before.
“Ahh, was that your first time seeing a magic ship, then?”
“They’re called magic ships?”
Magic ships were vessels built from magic tools. They made round trips between Granvelle City and the kingdom’s capital three times each month. A one-way journey cost one gold, which was not extremely prohibitive, so Rickel suggested that Allen save up for a ride one day.
Speaking of magic tools, there were many in use in this mansion. There was a large grandfather clock on the first floor, as well as multiple sources of illumination scattered throughout the premises. Allen had heard from Pelomas long before that these were all powered with magic stones.
It looked like Rickel still had a lot more to share, but it was almost time for the lord’s family to wake up. So Allen bid him farewell and headed to Cecil’s room together with several maidservants.
As the maidservants helped Cecil get changed, Allen was made to wait outside. Her room was on the third floor, directly beneath Allen’s. Once she was dressed, his duties mostly consisted of keeping her bedroom clean and tidy and putting away her pajamas. In other words, it was all odd jobs.
Sebas had assigned Allen two primary duties: to attend to Cecil’s needs and to serve meals. The latter was a responsibility reserved only for those with exceptional looks. Rickel had never once been called upon for the role for that reason. Allen, however, had inherited quite a lot of his mother’s good looks, although he was not very aware of it. What’s more, his black hair and eyes were especially eye-catching, given their rarity in this world. These factors together led to his immediate selection for meal service duties.
Now Allen was regularly serving the baron’s family’s meals as a training experience. His primary duty was, at the end of the day, attending to Cecil. However, there were large blocks of time each day where she would be preoccupied with her lessons and tutors and thus would not call for him. All in all, Allen did not have very much to do.
He now understood how Rickel developed his penchant for slacking off. Although the mansion was quite spacious, there were roughly thirty servants on staff—there were bound to be idle moments. Some people, such as the butler, had an inordinately large number of duties, but generally speaking, there was a lot of downtime.
During the evenings, the baron’s family ate together in the dining hall on the second floor. Dinner was always a time-consuming affair, as it was served in courses, one dish at a time. However, it was not overly hectic for Allen, as other staff members brought the dishes up to just outside the hall, where Allen worked together with two other servers.
“You seem to have gotten rather used to your duties, have you not?” Baroness Granvelle asked Allen.
Back when Allen had been Kenichi, he had been a corporate worker for over a decade and, as such, had no experience in waiting or food service jobs. However, the media that he had consumed—including manga, TV shows, and movies—had depicted how to wait on tables in places such as high-end restaurants and hotels. He drew on those references as he went about serving the baron’s family.
“Thank you very much, my lady. I have all my mentors to thank for their wonderful guidance.”
Allen lowered his head graciously in gratitude. The baron’s wife widened her eyes in surprise as an impressed “My!” escaped her lips.
“Darling, are you sure this boy was born a serf?”
“Mm. He’s even Talentless, if you can believe it.”
Huh? He looked into my Talent? Well, I suppose it makes sense to do a background check before admitting a complete stranger into the family. Ah, that means they must know about all my stats being “E” too.
Cecil perked up. “Huh? You’re Talentless?”
“That is indeed the result I received from the Appraisal Ceremony, milady.”
Allen was careful not to say “I am Talentless” himself. If he were to be Appraised again, the Talent field would very likely be filled. This way he was laying all responsibility for being registered as Talentless on the clergyman who had officiated his Appraisal Ceremony.
“Really? Well, I’m a Wizardess.” Cecil smiled smugly and puffed out her chest.
