Chapter 44 – Hidden Monsters (III)

Chapter 44

Hidden Monsters (III)

“Uhm,” I tried pretending to stutter, but truth be told, I was still properly terrified, so I just… stuttered, no pretending needed. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me.”

“…” She looked at me oddly for a moment, as though ‘updating’ the knowledge she had of me. Should I not have apologized? Haah, I can’t help it, honest; it’s like my second nature. When you’re selling people stuff, rather than arguing with them when they get mad, you just sort of make it your habit to keep saying, ‘I’m very sorry, Mr./Mrs.,’ until they go away. Or ask for your manager.

“Everything okay?” I asked after she remained silent for nearly half a minute.

“Explain to me the measuring.”

“Explain… the measuring?”

“Yes.”

“… uh. Okay. I’m just taking the length, width, and height of the shack–I mean of the amazing room I plan to build.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to know how many materials I’d need and where I’d lay them down.”

“Why?”

“… because that’s how houses are built.”

“Oh.” she seemed genuinely curious, which… I don’t know what to make of her, actually. Was she truly 6? I mean, yeah, she looked the part, certainly, but she did not behave the part… except for now. With a bit of adult apathy mixed in. “How long will it take you to build it?”

“Uhm, a week, maybe? I’d have it built already, but I didn’t expect the Sect Master to send you here so… quickly.”

“The Sect Master.”

“Yes.”

“Whom you insinuated was my father.”

“…” gah. Why did I remind her?!

“He’s not.”

“Khm, yes, I should have known someone as cute as you couldn’t be fathered by someone as ugly–” just… what am I doing? Luckily, she didn’t seem to care.

“My real father is dead,” she skipped over my tiny little insult of the head honcho.

The wind blew as though in concert with her voice, lifting up the strands of her black hair. It was long, almost reaching the back of her knees, swaying ceaselessly.

There was a sudden melancholy to her that was entirely unfitting a child; it was as though a weight beyond my comprehension pressed against her, and she could barely hold herself back from crumbling underneath its stubbornness.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“He was killed,” she added, her eyes locking with mine. Beyond the veil of apathy, beyond the veil of certainly-not-a-young-girl, there was, well, a young girl. Pain, rage, agony… the rods sticking out of her heart, the ones I am intimately familiar with.

“… I’m sorry,” I said, temporarily discarding my straying thoughts. Perhaps she was sent here as a spy, or maybe the Spirit Sage did indeed believe I had some magic ability to accelerate her cultivation, but regardless of all that, at the moment she was merely a young kid on the brink of crying. “I had a friend who lost her dad young, too,” I said, smiling as kindly as I could. “She always tried to be strong in front of me, but… it ate her up. I’ve always regretted not being there for her when she needed me. So, if you ever need someone to talk to, or yell at, or cry with… I’ll be here.”

“…” She fell silent, her oddly colored, partly purple and partly silver eyes examining me. “I can yell at you?”

“As loud as you want,” I said.