Chapter 10
As expected, Kalif was lying on his side on the bed, groaning.
His hair was a tangled mess, and his eyes were bloodshot like he hadn’t slept a wink.
“Are you alright?”
Mayna set the tray down on the table and studied him.
There weren’t any visible injuries, so thankfully, it didn’t seem like anything serious had happened last night.
Still, since he had gone hunting while drunk, his hangover had hit several times harder than usual.
“Did the situation get handled?”
“That’s what you’re curious about?” Kalif snapped.
“Of course.”
Mayna blinked her big eyes.
Kalif shook his head briefly, as if to say he didn’t even want to start explaining.
“Handled, I guess. The immediate crisis is over.”
“What happened?”
“A gate opened. In the center fountain at Gillingham Square.”
Kalif clutched his head, as if a headache was stabbing through.
“It’s presumed to be an S-class dungeon.
In just that short time, hundreds of monsters came out of the gate.
Luckily, some guild members were nearby having a get-together.
If I’d been alone, I couldn’t have handled it.”
“It was more serious than I thought.”
Mayna paused mid-pour while serving the hot tea. Hearing that made last night’s near-death encounter with a monster feel even more chilling.
“The damage must be terrible.”
“Thankfully, not many casualties. But the buildings and public facilities took a hit.”
A shadow crossed Kalif’s face.
The Eastern Continent, Asirius, was technically under the Imperial Crown’s ownership, but in practice, it was under Kalif’s control.
The citizens followed him so strongly that even the Emperor was wary of his influence.
When monsters appeared, attacked people, and tore through buildings, it might last a few minutes or at most a few days.
But rebuilding from the destruction could take years.
It was a bitter thought.
Disasters struck in the blink of an eye, yet returning to normal life demanded long, painful endurance.
Kalif nodded.
It was the usual process: assess the damage, calculate the restoration cost, and send a claim to the Imperial Treasury.
“Eat something for breakfast.”
Mayna pulled out a chair for him.
But Kalif stayed buried in the blanket, showing no intention of getting up.
“The worse your hangover, the more you should force yourself to eat something.
And drink water too.”
She’d said that ten thousand times before, at least.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Lord Lennox.”
“My head feels like it’s splitting.”
“That’s what happens when you drink too much.”
“Give me a potion.”
“No.”
Mayna shook her head firmly.
“If you use potions for something minor like a cold or hangover…”
“How much?”
“It’s not about money.”
“Then?”
“Do you really not know?”
Mayna put her hands on her hips.
Overusing potions built up resistance. When you really needed one, it wouldn’t work properly.
Besides, red potions didn’t react well with alcohol. They strained the liver and stomach, so it was best to avoid them the day after drinking.
Kalif knew all that.
So demanding a potion anyway was just one of his roughly five hundred million bad habits.
He’d drink himself stupid and then take it out on his poor assistant.
“Aren’t you going to work? Come on, get up already.”
“Fine, fine.”
Kalif grumbled as he rolled over and sat up, swaying.
Up close, he looked even worse. His dark brown hair, once sleek, now hung limp and sticky like a wet rag. His porcelain-smooth skin was rough and chapped.
His eyes and lips were cracked, and small cuts and bruises dotted his body.
“Honestly…”
Mayna shook her head.
He looked far too wrecked for it to be just a hangover. He must’ve burned through too much mana during that sudden hunt.
“First, get dressed.”
It was lucky the blanket covered enough. He always slept completely naked.
She carefully looked away from his barely covered lower half and began setting the food on the table.
Steaming hot mussel stew, grain bread, fresh vegetables, warm green tea for digestion, honey water for hangovers, and finally, his usual health juice.
A hearty breakfast spread was laid out.
“Eat before you go.”
“Mayna.”
Kalif called out as she turned to leave.
“Yes?”
“Don’t go. Sit in front of me.”
“Why?”
“Watch me eat.”
Another one of his eight hundred million bad habits — making someone watch him eat.
Typical.
Sighing, Mayna pulled out the chair across from him and sat down.
Kalif finally stood from the bed, threw on a pair of cotton pants, and sat down at the table.
“Start with the broth. It’s spicy mussel stew.”
“The stench of fish is attacking my nose.”
“The stew’s not to blame. You should curse the Kalif Lennox who couldn’t stop drinking last night.”
“Why are you always cold to me?”
Mayna shrugged.
With a look, she pointed at the spoon. Kalif scowled but reluctantly picked it up.
He scooped a steaming spoonful of stew but paused, grimacing as something crossed his mind.
“Narciatan, that rat bastard.”
“Pardon?”
“Rich people are always the worst. He still had the nerve to collect magic stones afterward.”
Meaning, after barely clearing the monsters that escaped from the gate at dawn, that yellow-haired idiot — Kalif’s words — had been rummaging around, harvesting the monsters’ remains for magic stones.
“How thrifty of him.”
Kalif’s expression turned deadly.
“You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?”
“What am I doing?”
“You’ll ditch me one day to be his assistant instead, won’t you?”
“Stop talking nonsense and finish your meal.”
Mayna said it in her best stern voice.
Kalif, looking half-dead, took another spoonful of stew. The moment it touched his mouth, he winced in agony.
“Hot…”
“It’s hot?”
“Mmh.”
“Mm.”
“Burned my mouth.”
“Your mouth’s burned, huh.”
Even while complaining nonstop, he didn’t stop eating.
He probably knew that skipping breakfast meant getting another lecture later.
Once he emptied the stew bowl, he stabbed a piece of bread with his fork and shoved it into his mouth, chewing mechanically.
“Eat slower. You’ll get indigestion.”
“Weren’t you the one who told me to hurry before?”
Always nitpicking. Typical.
Mayna rolled her eyes at the top of his bowed head as he kept eating.
After finishing the bread, Kalif picked up his cup of green tea.
He gulped it down, then did the same with the honey water and health juice, all in one go.
“I swear this juice is bad for my mental health.”
He tilted the empty cup over his head and stared at her blankly.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“……”
“Do you have something to say?”
“Do you plan to get married?”
“What?”
That came out of nowhere.
“Suddenly…?”
Mayna’s expression froze like a broken doll.
“Ha… ha ha…”
She laughed awkwardly, but Kalif’s face was dead serious.
