[V9C18] Showoff Monica

Monica’s foster mother, Hilda Everett, was an intelligent woman, but she had a pitiful lack of talent when it came to domestic skills.

The best example of this was cleaning. For some strange reason, whenever Hilda attempted to clean a room, it only got messier.

As a result, she ended up relying on the veteran housemaid Matilda for all household chores.

Though a skilled magical researcher, Hilda continued to live on her own as an unmarried woman. Her coworkers often recommended that she find a husband to care for her.

During such times, Hilda would always pout, jump onto the sofa, and flutter her legs in a tantrum. Despite being such a rational adult woman most of the time, she often acted childish when faced with issues unrelated to research.

“Ugh, I don’t wanna marry. It’s such a hassle. I’d rather spend that time on research or taking a nap.”

“Hilda-sama, please move, as you are getting in the way of my cleaning.”

The housemaid Matilda casually shooed Hilda to the side, causing her to hug a cushion and look up at the maid with a pleading gaze.

“I’d rather marry you, Matilda.”

Matilda, who was already a mother of five, sighed in exasperation and turned to Monica.

“Miss Monica, see this? This is what people who have no desire for marriage tend to say.”


…After suddenly recalling that exchange from years past, Monica realized that Carla’s words had been eerily similar to those of her foster mother.

Carla Maxwell knew that she would be traveling for the rest of her life, so she strictly avoided getting too involved with others. The statement she made, “If only I could marry a cute maid who will clean the house for me,” was just a casual joke limited to that moment.

However, there was a certain spirit who took that joke a bit too seriously. Namely, the one standing right in front of Monica right now.

“And so,” Ryn continued. “I waited until Louis-dono was alone, and negotiated to become his contracted spirit. In exchange for lending him my power, I gained the right to periodically clean Carla’s house.”

Both Louis and Carla possessed homes in the capital, and apparently, Ryn still visits Carla’s house on a regular basis for cleaning.

“In other words, I am Carla’s visiting wife,” Ryn said with a proud, yet expressionless face.

That said, how would the Starspear Witch react when the handsome spirit who proposed to her suddenly reappeared as a beautiful woman in a maid outfit?

Monica could not help but ask.

“So, um, w-what was Starspear Witch-sama’s reaction…?”

“Well, after laughing heartily and saying, ‘I give up, you win,’ she gave me the spare key.”

Ryn reached into the neckline of her dress and proudly displayed a house key attached to a chain.

“And that is why I have been diligently training day and night under Louis-dono’s supervision. I must become the cute maid that Carla wants to marry. Do you understand now?”

Honestly, Monica thought she may have been better off not understanding. Even an outsider like her was left speechless.

Rubelmeria, on the other hand, was wriggling on the ground like a caterpillar. He had reached the point where furrowing his brow was not enough to let out his emotions.

“Uwoh…! Nii-sama, to think you had undergone such an ordeal…! Curse you, Starspear Witch, deceiving my brother into becoming a maid… Ugh, but I am conflicted in wanting to support my brother’s love… What on earth am I supposed to do…? Ugwoooh…!.”

“Feel free to do absolutely nothing,” Ryn interjected.

Dealt a finishing blow by those merciless words, Rubelmeria began convulsing on the ground, before going completely still. Of course, with the same emotionless face as usual.

Meanwhile, Ryn turned to her pitiful sibling again, as if suddenly remembering something important.

“By the way, Rubelmeria, I heard that you would be summoning a storm on the day of the festival. My current job is to assist Silent Witch-dono here, so I cannot have you interfering with us.”

“…”

Rubelmeria, who had been writhing on the ground, slowly stood up and turned to face Ryn directly. Seeing them face-to-face like this did make them seem like brothers… though Ryn was currently in a female form.

“Rynzbelfied-niisama, I told one lie. There will be a storm on the day of the festival even without my interference. The other day, I found a ‘storm seed’ when flying through the southern skies.”

Apparently, this ‘storm seed’ was the precursor to a developing storm. As a spirit born from a storm, Rubelmeria possessed the ability to discern such signs.

“The storm will come. Without fail.”

Ryn only replied with a simple “I see.”

＊　＊　＊

Rubelmeria seemed like he wanted to talk more, but Ryn casually said, “Well then, we’ll be taking our leave now,” and cut the conversation short.

On the way back to Elliott’s mansion, Monica contemplated her next move.

(Ten years ago, Carla summoned four Spirit King gates for the magical dedication… My magic can’t even come close to that…)

The magical dedication was, in essence, meant to be a spectacle. All Monica had to do was cast a spell that looked impressive.

Of course, a spell related to the culture or spirits of the area would be preferable, but the Artillery Mage usually just launched flashy fireworks for his magical dedications.

(Should I try coming up with a different spell? But I can’t do anything better than Spirit King Summoning…)

These festivals served as ceremonies to offer gratitude to the Spirit King, so summoning the Spirit King was generally viewed positively, as the caster was essentially inviting the guest of honor.

Aside from unique spells like the Starspear, or the special magic of ancient artifacts, it was practically impossible to surpass Spirit King Summoning.

As Monica lost herself in her thoughts, Ryn suddenly tapped her on the shoulder.

“Watch out.”

“Huh? Wah…!”

Apparently, Monica had nearly bumped into a store sign while not paying attention.

“S-Sorry. T-Thank you for the warning.”

“If you have any worries, feel free to consult with me, your capable head maid.”

“…Haha…”

Monica paused and searched for the words while fumbling with her fingers.

Rather than consulting with someone, she wanted to sort out her thoughts by articulating her feelings.

“Um, I can’t do the same thing as Starspear Witch-sama… so I was wondering what to do about the magical dedication.”

Ryn stared down at Monica, then suddenly tilted her head sharply to the side. This was how the spirit expressed the emotion of doubt.

“Do humans view festivals as an occasion to compare their skills against each other?”

“…That is, um, one aspect of it, in my opinion.”

It was not uncommon for festivals to involve some kind of competition or tournament. Even offerings to the gods carried the implication of a competition to see who could craft the greatest offering.

However, this seemed to be a concept that Ryn had difficulty understanding.

“I am satisfied as long as the festivals are enjoyable, but it seems humans have a more complicated view of them.”

Ryn’s words caused Monica to realize something.

(Was I… trying to compete with Starspear Witch-sama…?)

Indeed, she had been overly concerned about appearing cool lately. Especially since she started trying to show off as ‘Ike’s master’.

(Wah…! I really was! I wanted everyone to see me as the ‘cool witch’…!)

The sudden realization caused Monica to feel a wave of embarrassment, squatting down with a blush.

(I was trying so hard not to embarrass myself with the magical dedication, that I forgot the important part…! This isn’t the time to be showing off or competing with Starspear Witch-sama…!)

Monica pressed down her red cheeks with both hands.

While competition was definitely one way to prove your worth, that became counterproductive once showing off turned into the main objective.

(The most important part is ensuring Howard-sama and the townspeople enjoy my magical dedication. In which case, the best thing I can do is…)

Monica curled her lips in thought.

Whenever Monica thought about making people happy, the first person who came to mind was Lana.

What would make Lana happy? What would bring a sparkle to her eyes?

A wooden box filled with flowers caught Monica’s eye in the corner of her vision.

“…That’s it.”

Monica got back on her feet, looking up and down the road.

She scanned the bustling people, the music echoing from every corner, the flowers decorating every building.

Monica began calculating the length and width of the street, as well as the height of all the buildings which lined it.

(This isn’t enough. I’ll need to walk around more and see the town directly, then compare it with the map to get accurate numbers.)

After engraving the street’s numbers into her head, Monica called out to Ryn.

“Ryn-san, let’s hurry back.”

“Have you come up with an idea?”

“Yes.” Monica nodded. “I will do what only I can do.”

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