"I got it! I’ll take responsibility and train the kids!"
With a look of fierce determination, Leo puffed out his chest and sprinted toward the younger children, his voice booming with unexpected authority. It wasn’t just noise—there was a strange charisma behind his small fra.
Surprisingly, the wild bunch that had been dashing around like escaped livestock slowly began to gather around him.
"Oh, wow..."
A quiet breath of awe escaped from Father Antonio’s lips.
"Impressive. To calm those little troublemakers so easily..."
"Well, kids usually listen to other kids more than adults," I said with a shrug.
"Haha. As expected of the Saint." The priest’s wrinkled eyes twinkled kindly as he looked toward Iris.
"Seeing how well you handle children, I don’t think you’ll have any worries when you get married in the future."
"H-huh? M-married?!"
"Hmm. Wasn’t there soone nad Dale?"
"W-wait! What are you talking about all of a sudden?!"
Iris’s cheeks flushed pink as she waved her hands in protest. The old priest just laughed heartily, his teasing seasoned with warmth rather than malice.
With the mood lifted and the children under better control, the festival truly began in earnest.
"Iris, look! I look just like a cat, right?"
"I hate this! Why did you make wear this stupid bunny headband?!"
"Camilla, I’m wearing dog ears. Please—just once—tell to bark."
[PR/N: ???]
The kids darted between booths, their animal ear headbands bouncing comically with each step. Camilla’s stoic expression was visibly cracking as she tried to keep up with the chaos. Iris, on the other hand, was in her elent—laughing, teasing, and bribing the children with candy and charm.
"Wow! This is so good!"
"Dale, can you get one of those chicken skewers?"
" too! And that crispy thing with honey!"
Apparently, ever since I’d cooked ran for them back at the orphanage, the kids had co to see as their personal chef—and their personal wallet.
Even Camilla raised an eyebrow as a swarm of hungry hands pointed at food stalls.
"Hey! Stop pushing Dale around like that! You know how expensive these things are?"
"Don’t worry about it," I said, pulling out the well-stuffed (Juliet’s) coin pouch. The golden sheen practically glowed under the lantern light.
"Big brother has plenty of money."
That smug grin earned a suspicious squint from Camilla and a huff from Iris, but neither stopped from treating the kids to skewers, sweets, and every snack in between.
They say ti flies when you’re having fun. I used to think it was just a saying.
But as the sun dipped beyond the horizon, painting the sky in deep oranges and purples, I found myself surprised at how quickly the day had vanished.
"It’s already this late," I muttered.
"Yeah," Iris said, her voice a little softer than usual.
The children, once full of laughter and energy, were now yawning and stumbling, eyes heavy with sleep.
"It’s ti to head back," said Father Antonio, gathering the small hands of his flock.
"Thank you, Iris, Camilla, Dale. You must all be exhausted."
"Exhausted? Not at all," Iris said, brushing her wind-tossed hair behind one ear. "It was... wonderful."
"I’ll walk you to the gate," Camilla offered.
"Hoho, such dependable students." Father Antonio chuckled.
As Camilla and the priest guided the children away—Leo still lecturing them like a tiny general—I stood in the cooling night air with Iris, letting the laughter and clatter of the festival settle into mory.
"...I’m sorry, Dale."
Her voice broke the silence, hesitant and small.
"Hmm? What for?"
"I feel like I dragged you around all day... and you probably had things you wanted to do."
"Dragged around?" I glanced at her. "I had fun too."
And I ant it.
I had co expecting a light day, maybe a mont to breathe. But sowhere between the skewers, the ridiculous animal ears, and the stubborn kindness in Iris’s eyes, the day had taken on a glow I hadn’t expected.
She looked at , as if searching for any trace of insincerity. Whatever she saw seed to satisfy her.
A smile tugged at her lips.
"Then... can I make one last selfish request?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Let’s hear it."
"Can you buy one of those chicken skewers you got for the kids earlier?"
Her eyes sparkled with barely restrained excitent, her fists balled with anticipation like a child about to receive a long-awaited toy.
’Co to think of it...’ I realized. ’Iris didn’t get to eat much earlier.’
"Of course. As many as you want."
"Aha~ You said it! Then I’ll take one with sauce... and one with salt!"
"Alright, alright. Eat as much as you want."
We made our way to the nearby vendor, still illuminated under a paper lantern that flickered gently in the breeze. The food stalls were winding down, most owners cleaning up or dozing behind their counters.
I approached the skewer stand.
The vendor sat slouched behind the booth, face hidden beneath a heavy hood.
"Excuse ," I called out. "Two chicken skewers—one with sauce, one with salt."
No response.
I frowned and stepped closer.
"Hello?"
Still nothing.
I reached out and gently tapped his shoulder.
That was when I heard it.
"Khh... sob."
A low, distorted moan escaped the vendor’s mouth—wet, gurgling, and unnatural.
He slowly raised his head.
Veins like writhing black roots crisscrossed his face. His lips dripped blood-tinged foam, and his eyes—bulging, glassy, glowing a faint purple—locked onto mine with feverish intensity.
"Ch-chicken... s-skewer... o-order..."
His body twitched.
Then convulsed.
"O-order... received—ARGH!"
His grin split unnaturally, as if the flesh itself could no longer contain the thing inside.
A surge of mana swelled from his body—twisted, chaotic, wrong.
My instincts scread.
I stepped back, shielding Iris as the vendor’s body jerked up violently, swelling and pulsing as if sothing inside was trying to break free.
"...I take it back," I muttered, tightening my grip on the dagger at my waist. "Just one skewer is fine."
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