Ithil and Parr

Sob... sob...

Ithil had not run far. She was crouching in a corner of the Church hall, covering her mouth as she sobbed. She wanted to keep her voice down so no one else would hear, but it was useless. Having learned of Bolen Knight's death, the grief in her heart was overwhelming. Parr, who had come after her, found Ithil just by following the sound.

Sigh... Thinking of Bolen Knight, who had died alone in battle, Parr sighed inwardly and stood there silently watching Ithil cry.

After a long while, Parr finally stepped forward, crouched beside Ithil, and said in a muffled voice:

"Because of Bolen Knight, my village was not destroyed by the cultists..."

Ithil quieted down. After Parr finished explaining what had happened, she wiped the tears from her face and turned to look at him as he tried to comfort her. Her mood improved greatly, and she reached out to pinch his cheek.

"Little brother, you don't need to comfort me. For a Church Knight, dying on the road to charge at cultists is his greatest honor. You don't need to blame yourself for Bolen's death either. That was his duty as a Church Knight."

"..."

Hearing how Ithil addressed him, Parr froze for a moment before inwardly going berserk.

Wait, what was with this "little brother" nonsense? In my previous life, what girl your age wouldn't respectfully call me Uncle... cough, respectfully call me big brother?

"How am I little?"

Parr abruptly stood up, and Ithil stood up as well. The girl was a whole head taller than Parr. Looking down at him, she held out her hand to compare their heights.

"You're this short. Isn't that a little brother? How old are you? How did you become an adventurer at such a young age? Was that uncle just now your father? The two of you don't even look alike..."

Watching Ithil emerge from her grief and begin chattering away like Old Larry, Parr's face darkened. His body might be small, but his soul was that of an adult!

"Hahaha..."

Seeing Parr's speechless expression, Ithil felt much better. Just as she was about to continue chatting, her little nose twitched. She caught a sour, foul smell, and it was coming from Parr right in front of her.

"How many days has it been since you bathed?" Ithil covered her nose and took a step back.

"Seven days."

Parr answered casually, then turned to leave. He did not want to keep listening to Ithil chatter.

"That long? That uncle taking care of you is really something else. Even adventurers need to pay attention to hygiene! Living like that makes it easy to get sick..."

As a Church physician, Ithil started chattering again. Though she had only formally joined the Church during this year's Harvest Festival, she had spent five or six years studying under Old Larry in the Church. She could be considered a qualified physician. She knew many methods of healing the sick and saving lives, as well as plenty of everyday hygiene knowledge.

Now, seeing how filthy Parr was, Ithil, who had emerged from her grief—or perhaps had not emerged at all and merely wanted to distract herself—could not stand it any longer. "Little brother, I'll take you to get a bath!"

As she spoke, Ithil grabbed Parr's hand and pulled him away.

"A-a-a bath?"

Ithil took Parr to her room. It was a very plain room. Aside from a bed, a chair, and two stools, there was only a simple dressing table. Calling it a dressing table was generous—it was really just a bookshelf with a metal mirror and a wooden comb placed in the middle. The remaining space was crammed with books and bottles and jars. Parr gave them a quick glance and found that they contained knowledge about herbs in this world and the like.

"Wait here. I'll go get the bath barrel."

After pressing Parr onto a stool, Ithil hurried out. Parr did not take the chance to leave, for two reasons.

First, he truly needed somewhere to bathe.

Second...

Parr got up, pulled a book from the shelf, and began reading. In order to establish a basic understanding of this world, he urgently needed to supplement his knowledge in all areas.

Reading was a good way to do that. The book recorded information about various plants and their medicinal properties, practically an otherworldly Compendium of Materia Medica.

Besides the books containing information on ordinary plants, Parr also spotted a thin, aged booklet on the shelf. It recorded a recipe: the recipe for a Cold Resistance Potion.

This was a widely circulated Magic Potion Recipe, as well as the lowest-grade Magic Potion. Its main ingredient was Fluorescent Lotus petals, while the supporting ingredients were not particularly rare either. Yet its effects were excellent. It could almost instantly cure ordinary people's headaches, fevers, colds, and flu. It was practically an otherworldly fever medicine.

Magic Potion Makers were a profession in this world. Using recipes discovered by their predecessors or themselves, they made Magic Potions to cure illnesses and save lives, poison and kill people, break through realms, unleash bursts of power in battle, and much more. Magic Potions had countless uses, and their various recipes were as numerous as hairs on an ox. However, these recipes were controlled by Magic Potion Makers. The only ones circulating on the market were recipes for the most basic Magic Potions.

As he read, Parr gained a rough understanding of this world's Magic Potion Maker system.

"I wonder whether this world has chili peppers. I really miss Spicy Rabbit!" With that thought, Parr put down the book in his hand and turned his gaze toward the bottles and jars.

The bottles and jars contained powders, liquids, stones, and other things. These were the materials needed to make low-grade Magic Potions.

"I wonder if there's anything spicy in here."

Recklessly courting death, Parr picked up a small jar and gave it a sniff. It was not spicy, so he picked up another small jar and sniffed that one too...

Bang! Roll, roll...

Parr's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed straight to the floor. The small jar in his hand rolled a few times across the ground, spilling white powder. The side with writing on it turned upward, revealing four large words.

"Drunkard Flower Pollen."

Creak~

A few minutes later, the door opened, and Ithil entered carrying a large wooden tub taller than she was.

Bang! She set the tub down. Before she even had time to wipe away her sweat, Ithil saw Parr lying on the floor.

"What happened?"

As a physician, Ithil hurried over to examine him. The result left her torn between laughter and tears. Parr was drunk, and the culprit was that jar of Drunkard Flower Pollen.

"This really is..."

Ithil shook the drunken Parr with an amused expression, not knowing what to say. Then she tilted her head in confusion.

"Since when did Drunkard Flower Pollen become this potent?"

Drunkard Flower was a special flower native to the central plains of the Wind Wolf Kingdom. Its petals could be brewed into alcohol, while its pollen could be used as an anesthetic. It was beloved by Church physicians, because injured people often could not bear the pain and would scream their heads off, which was incredibly annoying. With Drunkard Flower Pollen, that was no longer a problem. A single breath of it could greatly reduce an ordinary person's sense of pain.

But Parr's reaction was somewhat beyond Ithil's expectations. She used Drunkard Flower Pollen quite often, yet this was the first time she had seen someone react like Parr.

"Sigh! What a hassle."

Twelve-year-old Ithil sighed like a little adult, then stripped Parr naked and tossed him into the large wooden tub.

"I can only wash you myself."

Rolling up her sleeves and tying up her waist-length hair, Ithil turned and left the room to fetch water.

Darkness. Blackness. Deep in his drunken stupor, Parr had that strange dream again. Unlike before, the sound of flowing water beside his ears was much louder this time. It also felt as if someone were massaging his entire body, drawing him into an even deeper sleep and making him remain in the dream much longer.

He passed through the darkness and entered the light. The first thing he saw was a pair of large blue-green eyes. Parr stared at them dazedly, then more details came into view: a massive head, a long snout, pointed ears, sharp teeth, a black nose, and bluish-white fur. It was an enormous wolf's head!

Awoo...

The wolf's head opened its mouth and let out a long howl. Parr was so frightened that he instantly opened his eyes.

Huff... huff...

After taking several deep breaths, Parr felt his feet dangling in the air. He looked around and realized that someone was carrying him through an empty street. Then John's teasing voice reached his ears.

"Good boy, you've got my style from back in the day! How long has it been? You already got that little girl to give you a bath!"

"..."

Parr froze, then wriggled free from John's hand. His feet landed on the ground. Once he steadied himself, he lowered his head and looked at his body.

Parr had changed out of his filthy clothes. He was now wearing a new set of clothes Old Man Jack had placed in the large bundle for him. Then he looked at his clean hands and touched his slightly damp yet smooth black hair.

"..."

Realizing what had happened while he was unconscious, Parr's little face instantly turned bright red. He stood there blankly for a long while before turning to John and asking expectantly:

"Uncle John, you were the one who bathed me, right?"

"What are you thinking, kid? Do I look like someone who'd give you a bath?"

John tugged at his dirty clothes, then patted Parr on the head. Wiggling his eyebrows, he grinned and said:

"You lucky brat, it was that pretty little girl named Ithil who gave you a bath. Come on, tell Uncle what happened between you two just now..."

Parr did not hear any of the improper questions John asked after that.