Rise of a Manor Lord: A Progression Fantasy Isekai, page 17
She would worry endlessly if he didn’t let her watch over him. She didn’t need the additional stress. “We’ll stick together on the way back. Don’t let me slack off.”
He jogged after Emily, who was already far ahead and gaining distance. Lydia silently fell into step behind him. He did feel better with her watching his back, and it wasn’t like they could both carry Nicole. Emily was also the strongest among them, or close.
What was Skybreak Manor? Why had his maids been there? Who were the Redbow? He’d worry about all those questions once he was back at his manor. Hopefully, Nicole could answer more questions about her mission once they healed her.
If they could heal her. Lydia hadn’t sounded too optimistic about that.
They got back to the manor shortly after midnight. There were a few stressful hours where Drake didn’t dare sleep, Emily paced about feverishly, and Lydia vanished to see to all sorts of manor matters. Despite her visible worry, Lydia always took care of business.
Drake was even more glad to have her as his steward. It was incredible how she could focus on the mundane matters of running a manor full of people with so much else going on. He wouldn’t have the first clue how to do that... though he should probably start learning.
Finally, sometime shortly before sunrise, Raylan, Gloomwood Manor’s shaman, informed everyone waiting that Nicole would make it. It had been a near thing, and Raylan made everyone promise not to bother her. Nicole had slipped into a “deep sleep” that could not be interrupted if she was to live. Drake suspected it was actually a coma.
They wouldn’t know more about the ambush for days.
Being kept in the dark about whatever his other two battle maids had encountered out by Skybreak Manor was frustrating, but maybe they’d know more when Sachi returned with Valentia. If she returned with her. Drake hoped Sachi was as good as she claimed.
For her part, Raylan was another interesting manor denizen. He was a stern-looking man whom Zuri’s roster said was thirty-two, and was also some sort of demihuman. He had legs and not a tail, thankfully, but his arms, bared midriff, and sandaled feet all bore scales.
He wore light and frilly clothing that looked designed for a tropical climate, which made no sense in this cold. At least that meant he couldn’t be cold-blooded. It also made his unusual attributes even more obvious, which might have been the reason he wore it.
Gloomwood’s shaman also had faint green scales along his cheeks and under his chin, and no hair to speak of. His bald head had what Drake could best describe as folds. Finally, whenever he spoke, Drake noticed his tongue was visibly forked.
It was almost dawn by the time Drake got out of his armor, bargained Emily into standing outside his master bedroom instead of in it, and realized he might finally be able to sleep. Could he? He was mentally and physically exhausted. He had to sleep sometime.
He was fine taking a night to let the dust settle on his new life. He’d nearly been tortured, murdered, and convicted of an unforgivable crime in twelve hours. He needed to recharge.
He’d been able to bluff his way through Westin’s knights easily enough, but Nicole’s fate and Valentia’s (which remained unknown) had been a wakeup call. It was so easy to die here. He couldn’t simply depend on his battle maids and others to keep him alive. He had to learn to keep himself alive and figure out if his rarity... whatever it was... could do that.
Once he was finally alone, he paced off his master bedroom and verified it was easily the size of his entire one-bedroom apartment. It had a huge four-post bed against one wall that looked big enough to sleep eight people. There were more pillows than he could ever need.
There were also a few plush couches, chairs, and fine wooden tables, which was more furniture than he knew what to do with. He had a private bathroom off the back which, fortunately, included indoor plumbing. If he had to wander off to an outhouse in the chilly woods every time he had to take a piss, he’d likely just let some asshole kill him instead.
And that big, fluffy bed looked inviting. So inviting. He didn’t even bother pulling off his hoodie and jeans, which were both sweaty from the night. It was chilly in this room.
As crappy as his day had been, he couldn’t deny parts of it had been thrilling. He’d saved a whole goddamn manor today, and that sort of success could be addictive. As addictive as winning a huge manor, freeing its slaves, and then enjoying a delicious burger and a hot bath.
He tumbled onto the big fluffy bed and confirmed it was as soft as it looked. He fell asleep the moment his head touched the pillow, after which a loud knock roused him.
No. He wanted to sleep now. Yet when he peeked his eyes open, daylight filled the room. Was it all over? Had it all been a dream?
As his eyes focused, he found the canopy of that massive four-post bed above him. The bed beneath his back was far too big and soft and grand to be his little single back in his crappy apartment. He was still stuck in fantasy murder world, but! He had a really nice bed.
The knock sounded again. It was insistent enough that Drake doubted whoever was knocking would go away. “Enter!” he called.
He doubted either Lydia or Emily would let anyone who intended to kill him into the bedroom. Also, assassins generally didn’t knock. This had to be one of his maids.
The door opened, and Emily—of course it would be Emily—strode in with a big smile. She carried a silver platter piled with grapes, cherries, and what smelled like freshly cooked sausage. All of it smelled awesome.
Didn’t the woman ever sleep? Did they have cocaine here? If so, Emily must be mainlining the stuff. Drake had only managed to sit up before Emily plopped down on the edge of his bed and crossed her legs one over the other.
She set the platter between them. “Afternoon, lord! I brought lunch!”
Drake suppressed a yawn and rubbed his eyes, all too grateful he’d fallen asleep in his clothes last night. At least there was no awkwardness like the bath. “What time is it?”
“Just past midday, lord!”
He grimaced. “I slept past noon?”
“You needed your sleep, lord. You had a hard day yesterday!”
“So did you. What did you chug, ten Red Bulls?”
“I don’t know what that means, lord.”
That sausage smelled insanely good, and Drake’s stomach growled as it craved food. He sat up against the headboard and then reached for the platter. He found a tiny golden fork waiting, used it to spear a tiny sausage, and popped it into his mouth.
Amazing! Delicious. He was going to give Meryl a fucking raise.
Emily sprawled sidelong across his bed like it was hers, not his. She grabbed a cherry, which she popped into her mouth without asking first. It seemed Lydia had passed on the directive about not asking for permission to eat. Or Emily was just like this.
She offered a wide grin. “So what do you intend to do today, lord?”
He didn’t need anyone to be this cheerful. Still, he didn’t want to do anything to upset Emily right now. She had looked truly devastated when Nicole almost died, and if Valentia didn’t make it back, that would probably hit her hard as well. He needed an update.
“Any word from Sachi?”
“Not yet, lord, but I wouldn’t worry. She’ll find Val and deal with those Redbow jerks. Nicky was just being dramatic last night, you know. She’s always eager for attention.”
Drake wondered if Emily was trying to convince him or herself. “Sure. But you’re sure there’s nothing else we can do for either of them?” He had also asked Lydia that same question last night before he slept, but it wouldn’t hurt to cross reference the opinions of his maids.
“Nope! Sachi’s already on the prowl. I’ve generally found it’s best to let her do what she does and clean up the mess after.”
“What mess?”
“That huntress drops bodies like you wouldn’t believe, lord. She’s so bloodthirsty. I love her, and those Redbow soldiers are going to not.”
“Right.” These Redbow soldiers were enemies of Gloomwood Manor, and they’d attacked his people. Sachi would now murderize them... but that was just the way it was here.
People fought in this world. People died all the time here, and while he’d expected that to bother him, he found it didn’t as much as he’d feared. Sure, he didn’t want his people just massacring peasants, but they had a right to defend themselves. And him. Especially him.
This wasn’t Earth. This wasn’t a land where laws and civilization kept the murders to a minimum, though to be fair, Earth hadn’t done that all that well either. As Drake reconsidered all he’d done last night, he realized he felt no guilt for killing Dickcheese. None.
That asshole tried to compel him to carve up Westin and summon a leviathan, and then he tried to tear Drake apart when that failed. He’d also tortured his own butler to death, terrorized the people of this manor, and killed countless others the same way.
Drake had done this world a favor when he stuck a knife in that old prick. Fuck him. Still... why didn’t killing his first man bother him?
He’d never killed anyone before he arrived here. He had a sample size of one. He supposed he’d wait until he killed again and see if that bothered him.
If it didn’t feel guilt then? He’d reassess. If he did? No worries.
26
HOW IS THAT EVEN FAIR?
Drake was full of sausage, grapes, and a couple of goblets of delicious apple mead before he finally decided how he was going to spend the rest of his afternoon. He needed to discover his rarity, if he had one. He needed to talk with Zuri again.
Emily hadn’t left his room since she arrived, and she had eaten more of the meat and fruit on the platter than he had. Had Lydia ordered Emily to stick to him like a leech today? Lydia did have a whole manor to run, while Emily... apparently had a lot less to do.
Yet she wasn’t bad company. Not really. Her constant cheeriness was a bit grating, but he decided to treat her like a good friend. A mentally unbalanced good friend.
He slid his sock-clad feet out of bed. “Going to see Zuri. See those red shoes?”
Emily hopped out of bed like she was spring-powered.
“Toss those over?”
She trotted over with his sneakers instead of tossing them, but Drake waved her off when she attempted to help him. She likely had no idea how laces or sneakers worked. Her shoes were black slippers, gleaming as if polished around her white lace socks.
As Drake reached the doors with Emily practically bouncing on his heels, he realized she’d left the silver platter and the remaining food right in the middle of his bed. “Shouldn’t you get that?” He’d get the platter himself, but he had no idea where to take it.
“Oh, one of the other maids will take care of that little nuisance! You just focus on your lordly duties. I’ve got the whole day set aside for you.”
Emily probably meant that. It seemed his manor also had housekeeping. It was still strange to see these domestic servants juxtaposed with an army of lizardmen, but he supposed it had been this way in medieval castles. Kings had knights and soldiers, and then the servants... but how many of them had servants who could also rend souls and flutterstep?
Had he slept in what Lydia had referred to as the “second parlor” he would have been able to retrace his steps to Zuri’s library/fire hazard, but from his master bedroom, given how late it had been when he stumbled up here last night, he had no idea.
“Where’s Zuri’s room?”
Emily hurried past him and pranced off. “Follow me, lord!”
The manor seemed more lively this morning than it had been last night. Several times he passed women in less flashy maid outfits than those worn by his battle maids, all entering or leaving rooms with bundles of sheets or laundry. He also saw two different men, one of whom was carrying a whole armful of silver platters. Everyone quickly and silently made way for him.
The manor lord might be dead—long live the manor lord!—but the lives of these people hadn’t changed much. They still had their mundane jobs to do, and now, hopefully, they wouldn’t do them while fearing for their lives. Once Lydia cleared him to free everyone.
As he mentally ran back over the roster he’d browsed last night, he decided he’d have Zuri answer more questions about rarities today. He was also going to free her the moment he entered her library. Lydia hadn’t warned him not to do that, after all.
Drake mentally celebrated when he recognized the second parlor and then mentally located Zuri’s room at the end of the hall. However, Emily was moving far too quickly for him to pass her up and take the lead. She reached the doors before he did and knocked loudly.
“Zuuuuri! Lord Gloomwood is here to speak to you!”
Emily opened the doors without waiting for a response, but when Drake tentatively entered, he found Zuri waiting in the center of the room with her hands clasped at her waist. She wore a slinky low-cut dress this morning, green and rather risqué, and heels.
Had she been waiting for him? Who dressed up for a party to read some old books? Or maybe Zuri dressed this way every day, because she was an elegant kind of person?
Drake reminded himself he didn’t care. Today, he was going to learn all he could about rarities, magic, and magic weapons. To survive he needed weapons, and fast.
Zuri beamed at him and visibly fluffed her short dark hair with slender fingers. “How wonderful to see you this afternoon, lord! How can I serve you today?”
Emily entered the room and closed the doors behind them.
Zuri smiled benignly in her direction. “My dear, don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Nope!” Emily declared proudly.
Zuri’s smile barely faded. She visibly smoothed down her dress—which was completely unnecessary—and then turned her attention back to Drake. “Well, I am completely at your disposal.”
Drake was now glad he had Emily as his chaperone. The boss didn’t date the employees, and he was the boss now. It was possible Zuri was just being really friendly, or that there was another belief disparity causing misunderstandings... but he wasn’t taking any chances.
There wasn’t a single chair in the room that wasn’t piled with books, so he walked over to one of the four big columns that held up the middle of the room, leaned against it, and tucked his hands into the pocket of his comfortable hoodie. “First, Zuri, I have a new decree I need you to honor.”
“Of course, lord! I serve at your pleasure.”
When he finished, the woman looked visibly shaken. He hadn’t expected her to look visibly shaken. Actual tears glistened at the edges of her eyes.
“Aww, Zuri!” Emily approached with her arms out.
Zuri held a hand out in warning. “No hugs.”
“Are you all right?” Drake asked in concern.
She sniffled, then wiped her eyes. “I apologize, lord. I’m being foolish.”
“No, you’re not. You’ve been stuck here longer than anyone. I can’t imagine the sort of shit you’ve had to deal with. So never again, understand? If you choose to stay, I could really use your help, but if you’ve had enough, I completely understand if you want to retire.”
“This is my home.” She smiled bravely. “I could never leave my home. And... you intend to pass these decrees onto the manor at large?”
“I do. I would have already, but Lydia cautioned me that just dropping this on everyone at the same time could leave our defenses disorganized. So we’re going to do it in the next few days, after we figure out how not to compromise our security.”
“That is wise,” Zuri said. “And she is quite right. This will change everything.”
“So how do you feel about the way we’ve decided to run things now?”
“Terrified,” Zuri said. “And relieved. It is an odd combination.”
“I’m sure it is.”
“But, lord, you came to me today with questions. Please, ask me anything.”
Drake nodded. Best to move on before she could consider all the changes he was going to implement too deeply. “Let’s start with rarities today.”
“Of course, lord.”
Lydia had told him a lot already, but he didn’t want to tell Zuri that. It would be better to see what Zuri told him and see if she left anything out... or if Lydia had. “Who gets rarities?”
“Humans with divine blood, though it is so faint in most humans as to be undetectable. Those unfortunates never develop a rarity or, perhaps, their rarity is too subtle to detect.”
“And humans who get rarities are always born with them? They aren’t acquired?”
“There is some debate on that topic, lord.” As Zuri spoke, she seemed to recover her normal confidence and poise. “There are always rumors of people learning new rarities or being taught them by powerful mages. I know of no verifiable case.”
Lydia had been right. He couldn’t just find someone to teach him a rarity. “Okay, let’s back up a step. How many races are there in this world?”
“Are you referring to geographic location, lord, or something else?”
“Let’s start with types. We have humans, demihumans, and zarovians. What else?”
“If you refer to species, lord, then yes, there are a few others, though the three you have named are the most common. Demihuman also encompasses a large variety of peoples.”
“So what peoples didn’t I mention?”
“Kromians are a sea-dwelling people who occasionally interact with the surface world, but their culture is relatively unknown to us. They mostly keep to themselves.”
“Do they get rarities?”
“It is certainly possible, lord, but I cannot say for certain.”
“Any others?”
“None numerous enough to be of note. There are also species who once lived but live no longer. Which would you like me to list first?”
Zuri could certainly list every last obscure species from memory. “That’s all I need to know about now. Next... how random are the rarities people get? Is there a list of rarities?”
“Many have attempted to create a list, but rarities are named so because they are rare. Simple rarities have some commonalities, but more powerful ones are often unique.”
