As walked towards his room to take a bath and change his clothes, he realized something.
“I forgot my snack.” He leaned against the wall and folded his arms with a solemn expression.
“Well at least I was able to help Marvin a little.
Let’s focus on the positives.”
The morning breeze drifted through the open corridor windows, carrying with it the scent of freshly cut grass from the gardens below.
In the distance, servants could be heard conversing quietly as they carried out their duties, while the occasional clang of training weapons echoed faintly from the courtyard.
Ding
The system decided to interrupt his peace as always.
Though thankfully, this time it wasn’t as bad as he thought.
Special Target #1 Progress Increased
Dream Fragment Recovered
Estimated Restoration: 5%
World Restoration Increased
5% → 6%
Solomon smiled faintly.
He pulled up his status page.
Host: Solomon Ashbourne
Desire Energy: 74
World Restoration: 6%
System Restoration: 7%
Special Targets Found: 1/7
Solomon almost jumped up but he caught himself in time.
His fingers curled slightly against his sleeves as he fought to maintain his composure.
He was ecstatic.
The numbers that had no sign of ever changing when he had first come to the Ashbourne estate were finally witnessing a change.
It was minimal but Solomon was glad nonetheless.
“Anything is better than nothing.”
For the rest of the way to his room, Solomon hummed a tune from Earth.
The familiar melody felt strangely comforting in this unfamiliar world.
When he was finally within the confines of his room, he began to draw conclusions.
“So people’s desires are directly connected to the restoration of this world.” Solomon gasped.
“Do I need to meet everyone in this world?”
He banished the thought immediately.
It was pure nonsense.
The system already elevated World Restoration to 6%.
That meant that he didn’t have to meet everyone.
“Could it be just the special targets?” Solomon paced back and forth.
“But then… what about the heroine thing that the system mentioned for Silvia?”
He ran his hands through his hair.
The confusion was getting to him.
“Ughhh, I’m not planning to die anytime soon.” He picked up his brush and towel.
“I’ll figure this out as I go.”
As he stepped into the bath that had been prepared by the maids, he couldn’t help but wonder what would happen when he met the actual hero of Elaria.
Would they have a battle to the death?
Would the system finally give him peace?
Would he be allowed to support the hero just so he could save Silvia?
The steam rising from the bath curled lazily around him, while droplets of water rolled down the marble edges and onto the tiled floor.
“I overthink too much,” Solomon spoke to the ceiling.
“No, I’m not hallucinating.”
Not long after, he was done with his shower.
He walked to the bed and spotted the clothes that had been laid out for him.
There was a note attached.
“Hey, it’s Jessica.
Here to say rawr and also I picked the outfit to kill boredom.
This mansion is out for my blood.
They complained because I was taking fifteen minutes to choose.
Choosing an outfit is like picking a pet why can’t they see that.
Your unique maid, Jessica.
Once again, Jessica was up to her shenanigans.
Even leaving a note expressing complaints.
“Does she want to be unemployed?” He chuckled, shaking his head as he carefully folded the note and placed it on his bedside table.
Solomon wondered how she had found the time to write that when the other maids were watching her, but he didn’t put it past Jessica.
“The girl is a walking comedy skit.”
Outside his window, a pair of birds landed briefly on the stone railing before taking flight once more.
Somewhere deeper within the mansion, a bell rang to signify the next phase of the household’s morning routine.
He directed his attention once more to the clothes on the bed.
Resting neatly on the bed was a sophisticated yet casual outfit.
A crisp white shirt had been laid beneath a dark navy vest, its silver embroidery subtle enough to avoid appearing overly extravagant.
Beside it rested a long charcoal coat, tailored with clean lines and simple buttons.
A pair of black trousers had been folded carefully beside polished leather boots, while a pair of silver cufflinks sat atop the folded clothes as the finishing touch.
It was the sort of attire a noble might wear when wishing to enjoy the city unnoticed.
It was a funny choice to Solomon since he didn’t know anywhere outside the Ashbourne residence particularly well.
“Might as well wear it as practice for when I leave for the academy.”
He tried the clothes on and stood before the mirror.
He struck a few poses before taking deep breaths.
Little by little, seeing Solomon Ashbourne’s face in the mirror didn’t hurt him anymore.
“I should probably get packing.”
While he was organizing everything, a knock interrupted him.
“Come in.”
Silvia walked in before she paused.
Her gaze lingered on the half-packed suitcase resting atop the bed.
“Preparing to leave, huh.”
Her voice betrayed her.
Solomon was able to catch the faint whiff of sadness within it.
“Yeah,” he replied as he placed a pair of trousers into the suitcase.
“You’ll be gone again.”
This time the words stabbed through his heart, rendering him incapable of speaking.
He didn’t know why Solomon Ashbourne had left such a loving sister and gone to see the world.
Silvia poked him from behind.
He turned towards her.
“You’re…crying.”
Solomon raised his hand to his cheeks and true enough, as he stared at his fingertips, he could feel the warmth that had come to linger there.
“It’s fine.” She stroked his hair gently.
“I didn’t mean it that way.
After all, you came back before.
I trust you will this time as well.”
Solomon bit his lip as more tears rushed down his face.
“You’re wrong.
Your brother is gone.
I’m an imposter who’s trying to be self-righteous.”
Unfortunately, he could never speak those words out loud.
“You’ll write.”
“That wasn’t… a question.” Solomon smiled faintly amidst the tears.
“Good.”
She wiped his tears away.
The conversation became more light-hearted.
Solomon asked why Silvia didn’t attend the academy.
“We can choose between knighthood and attending the academy.” She sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing the fabric of her dress over her knees.
“Knights have separate studies.
It’s to prepare us to protect royalty.”
The gleam in her eyes couldn’t be hidden.
“Happy you enjoy it.”
“Mhmm.”
Solomon folded another piece of cloth and placed it into the bag.
Solomon paused.
“Another weird question,” Solomon muttered.
“Did you say something?”
“No, just wondering when I should meet father.”
“Don’t worry.
He’ll come find you soon.”
After that sentence, she took her leave.
Solomon finished his packing.
The sun was finally high in the sky, its rays spilling across his bedroom floor through the open windows.
“Guess it’s time to see how Marvin did with breakfast.”
Nothing could have prepared him for the sight he was currently witnessing.
“Young master.
You’re finally here!” the head chef squealed in happiness.
“Did you just say young master?” Another chef moved towards him.
“Finally!” the other chef wept dramatically.
They all knelt before him and, as if they had practiced it beforehand, they all spoke simultaneously.
“GET HIM OUT OF HERE!”
Solomon lifted his eyes from the chefs and toward Marvin.
Not just him, but the damage to the kitchen.
The air smelled like burnt food.
A faint trail of smoke still lingered near the ceiling, and one of the windows had been opened to let fresh air inside.
The pot that was used somehow also seemed to have broken in the process of making what history would remember as the most dangerous dish.
“Young master, I don’t understand.” Marvin’s eyes revealed his genuineness.
“Understand what?” Solomon couldn’t help but ask.
“Why I failed and also why I wanted to do it so badly.”
Solomon could see the frustration on Marvin’s face.
Frustration.
Pure frustration.
Something human.
It wasn’t a wonderful emotion, but at least it was different from constant smiles.
And Solomon would take that progress any day.
“Young master, ban him from the kitchen,” the head chef spoke.
Solomon saw Marvin’s face fall as those words were spoken.
“Anyone can get better with practice.” Solomon stared down at the chef as he folded his arms.
“Isn’t it a superior’s job to train people?”
The head chef opened his mouth several times, but a counter never left him.
“So?”
“I’ll get to it, young master.”
Solomon pulled the head chef up.
“You’re an amazing cook.
Your cooking tastes like hope.
So please, all I ask is that you give him that same hope in ways that I can’t.” Solomon bowed.
“Young master…” Marvin whispered, his eyes widening.
“Young master, no, it’s okay.
I’ll help,” the head chef replied quickly.
“Yes, young master.
We can do it.”
“Thank you.” Solomon raised his head.
“But umm…
besides that.
We actually have breakfast, right?”
A brief silence hung in the air before the room erupted in laughter.
“You really are unique, young master.” The head chef chuckled as he wiped at the corner of his eye.
“We’re bringing it to the dining hall right away.”
Solomon nodded and stepped out.
He smiled all the way to the dining hall.
He had helped Marvin a little and formed a relationship with the cooks.
“Now the rest is up to you, Marvin, do your best.”