THFN | Chapter 8

As the presumed elder and the one providing meals, Clara forced himself to muster a sense of duty.

“Ha. Ha. Ha… So, you’re a mage… I mean, this new mage is doing a great job!”

But why did he stop? Muttering as if to be heard, the figs floated up again and started organizing themselves. Clara’s reaction made it seem like this was ‘normal.’

Clara’s eyes trembled in confusion.

No, this isn’t right.

A mage isn’t someone you use for trivial tasks. Who would believe you’re using a mage as a worker? He just blurted out something in surprise.

If it weren’t for this situation, he would have called the kid over and talked about proper wages.

‘Why did I do that? …But it seems like I believed it?’

Normally, wouldn’t people laugh or be dumbfounded if you said you were using a mage as a farmhand? Why believe it? Are fairies different? Is it because everyone is a mage and mages aren’t rare? …No, wouldn’t that make everyone rare?

Clara’s mind went blank, overwhelmed. It was understandable. He had revised his thoughts more than three times. At first, he thought it was just a leftover worker, but it wasn’t, and even though it wasn’t, the work was done too well, and the one who did it was a child. He thought it was a child, but it turned out to be a fairy. And now, a mage!

His mouth clamped shut. He was about to explain the situation honestly and ask for help. He even thought of helping the fairies if he could. He intended to make a deal.

But looking back now, the events that unfolded left him feeling inexplicably overwhelmed.

He should have asked properly from the start. But now, he was a fool who thought an unknown mage was his worker.

…Should he keep pretending to be fooled as per the initial concept? Clara’s eyes wavered with conflict.

Then, seeing the beautifully packaged hundreds of boxes of figs, he let out an involuntary sigh.

“Ah!”

Those are apple packaging boxes! Maybe the red fig variety was mistaken for apples.

…No, they look different! It even says “apple” in big letters. How could anyone not know? Fairies should at least know letters.

Clara, momentarily puzzled, couldn’t imagine that the fairy might know the letters but not associate the word with the fruit due to its unfamiliarity. To stop the stiff movements as if trying to pack the figs, he blurted out anything.

“Uh, maybe because you’re new, you don’t know? The figs are for making jam, so you don’t need to pack them!”

Flinch!

The figs wavered in the air.

A moment of silence passed. Pretending to be relaxed, Clara cleared his throat and put his hands behind his back.

He mimicked the posture of a wicked great landowner he had seen before, straightening his back and stroking an imaginary beard.

Then he chanted internally about ten times: I am the great landowner. That person is my worker. I am naturally someone who commands workers. He self-hypnotized himself, unaware of his pale complexion, and stroked his chin.

“Give the already packed ones to the workers, and the rest should be mashed and put in the pot… Oh, wait. I need to get the pot. Hold on!”

Ravid, listening attentively, left the figs suspended in the air and waited.

⏾⋆ ⏾⋆ ⏾⋆

One human and one demon.

Who was deceiving whom? Who was pretending to be deceived by whom?

Amidst the confusion, Clara decided to deal with the figs first and brought a pot in a hurry. Thanks to that, both of them focused on that.

The pot for making jam was a gigantic cauldron, four times Clara’s height. It looked more like factory equipment than a cauldron. As he struggled to move it, the weight suddenly lightened, and Clara looked up in surprise. The heavy equipment floated effortlessly through the air to a corner of the warehouse. It swayed slightly as if asking if this was okay, and when he nodded, it gently landed in an empty space.

He thought it could only move light things like figs. Could it possibly lift the entire warehouse and smash the walls?

‘It would have been a disaster if it tried to steal.’

Clara, giving another pass mark for not doing so, awkwardly yet innocently smiled.

“Well done.”

Thud!

The figs, suspended in the air, suddenly crashed into the jam machine as he inadvertently praised.

Quick-witted too. Clara, impressed once more, hesitated to operate the machine.

‘But does this kid know how to make jam?’

A child who doesn’t even know the word for apple? He busily moved toward the sugar sacks, thinking hard.

He had already decided to let the fairy into his home. The warehouse was colder than expected. Even if they were adults, fairies, known for their small stature, wouldn’t find it a suitable place to sleep. Besides, monsters occasionally invaded. People who use magic tend to struggle against swift creatures, so it’s dangerous.

And… if possible, he wanted to get to know them better.

Clara’s eyes briefly shone as he secretly harbored a hidden agenda.

‘If it’s a fairy, they might know about other races too.’

But on the surface, their roles were employer and worker. So the way to get closer….

He felt sorry for the worker, but he had no choice but to pretend to supervise and work together!

“…Ahem.”

Working with a boss would make anyone cringe, but this was a special situation. Clara subtly took a step closer to the pile of figs, expressing his intention to join.

This, this is definitely not for personal gain. Anyway, it looks like they don’t know how to make jam, so it’s also about teaching.

“Since it’s your first day, I’ll work with you to see your proficiency.”

The pile of figs, busy moving, paused in mid-air as if asking, “You too?” Could it be influenced by emotions? Then it might not be magic but spirit magic.

While predicting what the kid might be, Clara unconsciously let out a sigh.

A child who doesn’t know letters well, wielding a power similar to spirits.

There are forests and mountains around here, so maybe they’re a fairy from the Greenbelt Mountains, not a nearby village. A pure fairy who doesn’t mingle with humans.

If so, it makes sense for them to be powerful yet naive. With the unprecedented poor harvests in recent years, did they wander here in search of food?

‘For their hungry family….’

Suddenly recalling a story he overheard, Clara lowered his head, lighting a fire under the equipment with flint, organizing his overwhelmed feelings.

…Though he pretended not to, he had already played out the story of a young fairy boy, driven by hunger, running to human settlements, in his mind about three times, leaving his eyes moist.

“Just like that. You know we pay performance bonuses based on results, right? Of course, we can pay in cash as per the contract, but if you prefer goods since you came from a remote place, I can give you goods. I can give you all the packed figs.”

Whether he understood or not, the figs dropped from the air and were enthusiastically mashed.

So enthusiastically that a few pieces of pulp splattered onto Clara’s cheek. The bright red pulp trickled down, emitting an overwhelming sweetness.

Without time to wipe it off, Clara hurriedly tore open a sugar sack and poured it in.

Though called sugar, it wasn’t refined sugar but raw sugar freshly extracted from sugarcane. Nobles avoided it due to its low absorption rate and unique taste, but it was perfect for making jam. However, since it was in crystal form, it would easily burn if added separately, so it had to be added now.

As he tore open a sack, the telekinesis moving the figs combined with the telekinesis adding the sugar sack.

“Of course, you know to add it in a 2:1 ratio!”

Watching the light brown sugar lumps being poured in and the figs being mashed, Clara squinted his eyes. The pulp being violently mashed from the bottom of the pot, large enough to fit fifty people, to the point of splattering in front of him, was more grotesque than expected.

‘Good thing it’s me. A normal person would have fainted in shock….’

Of course, Clara, though rusty, could still grasp the form and scale of intangible forces to some extent, even if he couldn’t use magic or had put down the sword years ago. There was no need to be blindly afraid of this strangely clumsy telekinesis.

‘I’ve been on the battlefield too long for that.’

Reminiscing about the old days, he turned the large handle attached to the machine instead of a spatula, stirring with one hand while preparing the jars.

The muscles hidden under his loose sleeves shone tautly with each turn of his arm. Seeing this, Ravid secretly nodded.

‘As expected of the human king…! Such strength.’

Clara, too, looked around with renewed eyes.