Chapter 118: Why do they fight so much?

My daily life is rather monotonous.

It begins in a small cabin.

My room, located right next to Grandma Miranda’s, was a simple space with only a small bed and a wardrobe.

It might look impoverished on the surface, but compared to the days I spent in an empty underground prison, this place felt warm and cozy.

“Are you still sleeping?!”

I always woke up to Grandma Miranda’s ear-splitting shouts.

“Ugh…”

I was tired.

They say you sleep less as you age—perhaps it’s true. Thanks to Grandma Miranda, who wakes up at 7 a.m. every morning, I’ve also grown accustomed to starting my day early.

But no matter what, waking up at dawn is still a struggle.

When I step out of the room, I see my clothes and Grandma Miranda’s neatly hung near the sunlit window.

I hand-washed those clothes myself.

At first, I was clumsy, but over time, I got the hang of it. Eventually, Grandma Miranda began asking me to wash her clothes too.

With food and lodging provided, I had no grounds to refuse.

“Mm…”

After changing into my work uniform, I stretched my body to prepare for the day.

It might just be my imagination, but I’ve been feeling lighter lately.

It could be that I’ve lost weight or gained muscle from work, but it feels like something deeper has changed.

It’s as if something that was buried deep within me has disappeared.

Regardless, I feel refreshed. This might be the most physically free I’ve ever felt in my life.

As I stepped outside the cabin, I glanced up at Grandma Miranda.

“Grandma, can I… hold your hand?”

“You little brat.”

Grandma Miranda, with an annoyed expression, held my hand.

Her hand was so much bigger than mine that it felt more like my hand was resting on her broad palm.

After walking hand in hand with Grandma Miranda for about 30 minutes, our shop came into view.

It’s a restaurant that proudly attracts the most customers in the area.

Of course, all its fame is thanks to Grandma Miranda, but I like to believe my cooking contributes a little to its reputation too.

“It’s cold…”

Upon arriving at the shop, the first thing I do is light the stove.

Until the fire warms up the space, I crouch near it, shivering.

When the sun fully rises, we open the doors to the shop.

Before starting work, I always stop by the restroom.

Lillian’s mark is still uncomfortable, but I’ve learned to endure it, managing to last up to an hour now.

Though I still need to press my lower abdomen to fully relieve myself, this counts as progress, doesn’t it?

In the shop, I handle dishwashing and assist with cooking, while Grandma Miranda manages cooking and serving.

Grandma tries to keep me in the kitchen as much as possible, but when we’re short-handed, I sometimes end up serving too.

“This food is amazing! Even if it empties my wallet, I’ll definitely keep coming back!”

A cheerful woman beamed at me as she spoke.

Hearing compliments from customers is the most heart-pounding moment of my day.

At times like that, I feel my whole body heat up, and my breathing becomes slightly labored.

Whenever a customer praises me, I always have to cover my flushed face with one hand to hide the redness.

‘Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy.’

My mind fills only with joy.

I want to express my gratitude, but Grandma Miranda’s stern rule of not speaking more than ten words to customers prevents me.

So, I came up with a little trick.

I carefully write my heartfelt thanks on a cloth napkin, ensuring not to tear it, pressing down each word with sincerity.

Then, I open the customer’s palm, gently place my hand over theirs, and leave the note on their hand.

Unable to bear the embarrassment, I quickly retreat to the kitchen.

“Wa-wait…!”

I heard the customer call after me, but I ignored it and darted into the kitchen.

If I stopped, Grandma Miranda would surely scold me.

As expected, the moment I entered the kitchen, Grandma Miranda’s voice rang out.

“You didn’t pull another stunt, did you?”

“I didn’t!”

Avoiding Grandma’s sharp gaze, I moved to the back of the kitchen to start washing dishes.

Clang—

[Hey, you! Get that woman!]

[Let go, let go! I’ll just have a quick word with her!]

[Get your focus back before you speak!]

The commotion came from the dining area.

It seemed like some customers had gotten into a fight.

At first, it startled me, but now I’ve grown used to it.

Since this place is near the frontlines and most of our customers are hot-tempered mercenaries, brawls are pretty common.

“Why do they fight so much?”

“…You’re really sure you didn’t do anything?”

“Yes, I didn’t even say ten words. Just like Grandma Miranda advised.”

“Hmm, then it must just be the usual daily life of mercenaries.”

Honestly, I wish they would stop fighting. Spending time and energy on meaningless battles while struggling to make a living—what’s the point?

But, well, everyone must have their own reasons.

And so, a rather eventful day came to an end in the stillness of the deep, dark night.

Unlike before, when I would be exhausted after just an hour of work, now I had grown strong enough to endure hours without trouble.

The joy of trying out recipes I’d only seen on TV myself. And the happiness of watching customers enjoy my cooking—it never grew old, no matter how often it happened.

After finishing the cleanup, I stepped outside the shop.

A soft moonlight bathed the dense darkness, and the cold night air of the quiet street brushed against my skin, prompting a deep breath.

As I locked up and prepared to return to Grandma Miranda’s house, something familiar caught my eye in the distance.

“…Hmm?”

Was it just my imagination? It felt like I’d just caught a glimpse of violet, so strikingly similar to Viviana’s eyes. The pinkish hue that fluttered through it reminded me of Lillian.

But when I opened my eyes wide to check again, all I could see was the deep darkness of the night sky.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.”

It must’ve been my imagination.

There’s no way Viviana, the only heir of the Merdellia Duchy, would come all the way here at this hour. Nor would Saintess Lillian.

Maybe it was a mirage, born from my longing to see them. After all, it had been almost two months since I last saw them.

‘…I wonder if Artasha is doing well.’

Truthfully, the one I miss most is Artasha.

She once promised to give me a new name when we met again. I’m still waiting for that name.

It doesn’t matter what name she chooses. If she’s the one who gives it to me, I’ll treasure it deeply and carry it with happiness.

“…Happiness.”

The moment I thought of that word, a heavy weight pressed on my chest.

Over the past two months, I had almost forgotten the most important thing, lost in the joy of cooking.

I am a sinner.

I exploited the hearts of countless noblewomen, and some even crossed the River of Ruin just to lighten my mood.

I destroyed Mardian, who simply liked me. I pushed Viviana into the battlefield. I banished Lillian from high society with vile rumors. And I drove an unhealable nail into Artasha’s heart.

What remains for me are my irredeemable sins. That’s why I must constantly remind myself.

I am not someone deserving to be with such extraordinary people.

Even if I atone for all these sins, the only thing waiting for me at the end will be death.

To go to the one person waiting for me in hell. The one I need to seek forgiveness from the most.

‘…Never forget.’

I am not someone who deserves happiness.

***

“…I almost got caught.”

Viviana let out a sigh of relief as she watched Tina walk away. The leaf stuck in her hair clearly revealed how startled she had been just moments ago.

“That’s strange.”

Lillian peeked her head out of the bushes, her eyes fixed on Tina’s retreating figure.

“What? Did something happen to Tina?”

There was a subtle nervousness in Viviana’s voice. She always overreacted when it came to Tina.

Despite assigning her most reliable warrior to Tina’s side, Viviana visited here frequently out of restless concern.

“It seems like a good thing, but…”

“Stop dragging it out and just say it.”

“I don’t sense any demonic energy from Tina anymore.”

The wicked presence that had once driven Viviana and Lillian to this point was one of the reasons they continued to keep an eye on Tina.

But now, that presence was nowhere to be felt.

“You must be mistaken.”

“No, I’m not. The holy stone around Tina’s neck isn’t glowing. If the demon was still within her, the stone would be emitting a faint holy power to suppress it.”

“…Isn’t it possible something is wrong with the stone?”

“No. The holy power within it is still strong.”

The stone, into which Lillian had poured countless days and nights of divine energy, was now so powerful it could be considered a sacred relic.

“Then, has the demon completely disappeared?”

“I can’t be sure. It’s best to observe her a little longer.”

“…Alright.”

Both of them felt the urge to rush over to Tina, but they suppressed the impulse.

Unlike the past, when Tina’s eyes were always dry and lifeless, she now radiated vitality. They couldn’t bring themselves to disrupt her life.

Not yet, at least—not while they were still a painful memory to her.

“Can we really trust her?”

Lillian’s gaze shifted to the elderly woman with a robust, muscular frame—a physique so solid that even seasoned mercenaries wouldn’t dare to approach lightly.

“Yes, you can. Her words might be harsh, but she’s a good person. And…”

A faint smile appeared on Viviana’s lips.

“Grandma Miranda is stronger than me.”