It is only a couple more days before the tournament begins, and tonight is an opening ceremony of sorts now that Ull and his escort of Northern Wardens have arrived. The city was much too hectic for anything formal on the first day of their arrival, but now that it has calmed down, it is ready to liven right back up with festivities.

The city’s largest market district has been converted into a temporary entertainment district. Where once were stalls of spices and cloths are now stalls of games and already-made food of all varieties. Even if this is a game that takes place in a fantasy setting, many stalls offer deep-fried food and overly-sugary sweets just as a festival in reality would.

Fenrir walks through the festivities with Serra and Cassiel clinging to his arms and Rock following behind them.

This sort of place is usually too dense with people for him and causes some degree of social anxiety, but when he accidentally heard Cassiel talking to Serra about how excited she was for this festival and heard Serra agreeing, he couldn’t not come here.

There is another reason as well, but until it is time for their objective, they are able to fool around. Though, part of him feels guilty for having the easiest and most fun objective while the others are stuck with much less entertaining roles.

An early firework is shot into the still-light sky. The explosion causes most to turn their heads to look up at it and cheer, inspiring several others with their own fireworks to set them off early.

“Fen, I want to play that,” Serra says, pointing to a game booth that just freed up.

“Sure, Girlfriend One,” Fenrir says in a teasing voice.

“Haah? Girlfriend One? What’s that make me then?” Cassiel asks.

“Girlfriend Two.”

“Why am I two?!”

“Alright, fine. You can be Girlfriend One-Part-Two.”

While Serra giggles from his silly joke, Cassiel has to resist the urge to strangle him in front of everybody.

All it takes to calm her down is a quick, unexpected kiss on the lips.

As manipulative as it may be, Fenrir has learned that he can always calm Cassiel down with a kiss, and she never tries to block him from kissing her no matter how angry she may be acting.

Even now, when she was just angry a few seconds ago and tempted to kill him in front of everybody, she turns into a blushing mess from her neck to her ears as soon as she’s kissed.

Fenrir walks over to the game booth with them.

“Come on! One game for just a few silver each! See who’s the best shot!” the booth’s worker says, holding out a greedy hand.

Fenrir digs a few silver coins out from his pocket and hands them over. Yesterday was spent doing any odd jobs he could find in the city to have some spare spending money for this festival.

The worker happily accepts the coins before handing over two wooden, gun-shaped tools. Each one is the shape of a rifle and has an open chamber for what Fenrir assumes is its ammunition.

Two stones imbued with water are handed over.

“Just place the stones in the slots, and then when I say ‘go,’ pull the trigger!” the worker explains.

Serra and Fenrir do as he says.

“Alright! Three… two… one… and go!”

The boyfriend and girlfriend pull the trigger at almost the exact same time. It causes the guns’ hammers to smack down against the water stones, thus activating them, and causing pressurized jets of waters to shoot out at their targets!

Fenrir and Serra each have one target with a bullseye to aim at. The closer to the center of the target they hit, the higher their respective progress bar goes.

He’s confident that he’ll beat Serra at this. He knows that she hasn’t played many games before, and he’s played multiple first-person VR shooters and was somewhat decent at them, so this should be—

“And the little lady is the winner!” the worker shouts as the bell at the top of Serra’s progress bar rings.

Fenrir’s own bar is barely halfway to its end.

“That’s one of the fastest times I’ve seen all day! You can pick any reward in this booth for winning,” the worker says.

Serra looks at Fenrir with a smug smile and arms triumphantly crossed over her chest.

Her cocky expression makes him want to re-challenge her to put her in her place… but he’s pretty sure he’d be the one getting put in his place.

Serra looks around the booth and sees the perfect prize.

It is a massive plushy of a wolf larger than most real wolves are! When Fenrir looks at it, it’s pure white as well with red eyes.

“This is Fenrir Number One,” Serra says, happily holding onto her new plushy and poking her head out from behind it.

“What’s that make me then?” Fenrir asks.

“Fenrir Number Two.”

Fenrir Number Two hears Cassiel laughing behind him.

He should have known Serra would get back at him for teasing Cassiel. Serra is the top boss in their relationship when it comes to teasing. Whenever Fenrir teases Cassiel, Serra has to tease him back. If he tries teasing Serra, then she really teases him back.

“Where do you plan on putting that?” Fenrir asks.

“In my hammock with me,” Serra answers.

“The more weight on The Shoebill, the slower she’s going to be.”

“It’s okay. Cass Cass can toss you overboard if we need to go faster.”

Fenrir looks back at Cassiel and sees her proudly staring at him.

This isn’t fair.

“You two are supposed to love on me, not bully me,” he says.

“It’s bullying out of love,” Serra explains.

“Y-yeah, that,” Cassiel says, the blush returning to her cheeks.

As much as Fenrir wants to tease Cassiel about blushing so easily, he knows that people who tend to blush easily absolutely abhor when it’s pointed out, so he resists doing so.

“Let’s take it back – actually, you think Rock could take it back to The Shoebill by herself?” Fenrir asks Serra before looking down at the steadily-growing Rock.

Rock happily barks.

Serra crouches down in front of Rock and hands the plush over. “No tearing or humping, okay?” Serra says.

Rock barks again before taking the plushy into her mouth gently.

“Alright, Rock, just track us down afterward,” Fenrir says.

With a muffled bark, Rock turns and runs off to the ship to drop off Serra’s replacement for Fenrir.

“I told you that training her to run errands for us would be useful,” Fenrir says to Cassiel.

“You mean it lets you be lazy. You’d probably train a real dog to bring you beer from your fridge,” Cassiel says.

“Nah, not beer, but definitely would for hard cider.” His response makes her roll her eyes.

Serra points at another booth. This time, it’s a food stall with fried fish impaled by skewers on sale.

Fenrir takes the girls over and gets three skewers for them and himself.

“This festival is pretty awesome. Too bad they seem to be pretty rare. We have to start our own city where there’s festivals every night!” Fenrir jokingly proposes.

While Serra is in agreement, Cassiel shakes her head as her mouth is full of battered fish.

“Then it’d get boring,” Cassiel says after swallowing.

“I spend time with you every day and you’re not boring,” Fenrir says.

Right on cue, Cassiel’s face turns red.

The three’s night continues.

Rock eventually makes her way back to them, ready for whatever other tasks they may have in mind for her.

“Good girl!” Fenrir says, leaning down to pet the top of Rock’s head. “You’re getting pretty good at tracking, aren’t you? You found us in no time with all these noises and scents around!”

Rock’s tail intensely wags as she nuzzles her head up against his petting hand.

“If it ain’t Fenrir!” a familiar voice shouts out.

A middle-aged, wrinkly man walks up to him.

It takes Fenrir a moment, but he recognizes the man as Morven – the captain of The Yellow Minnow which is entirely crewed by NPCs. Morven is one as well.

“You enjoyin’ these festivities? I’ve gotta say, there’s even more new and crazy stuff around this time than there was the last!” Morven exclaims, holding a hand out for a shake.

Fenrir shakes his hand and nods. “Yeah, we’re having fun here. How’s The Yellow Minnow and her crew doing? You all ready for the tournament?” Fenrir asks.

“Course we are! All you adventurers are gonna be shown what the rest of us can do!” Morven declares with a proud and confident smile.

“We won’t take it easy on you, but I do want to see you kick some ass out there and put some players in their places.”

“You can count on that. We’ll even put you in your place when it’s the right time.”

Fenrir smiles and chuckles. “I’ll look forward to it.”

“Hey! Papa!” a young girl shouts, running up from behind Morven and clinging onto his leg. “Stop running every time you see somebody!” she whines.

Another woman, this one more mature and looking to match Morven in age, walks up to them. “Sorry. My dear husband lacks any form of self-control,” she apologizes for Morven.

They may only be NPCs, but they look, sound, and behave just like any real family would.

To not call them a real family would just be hateful discrimination.

Fenrir shakes his head. “It’s not a problem. Pleasure to meet you, by the way,” he says.

Serra and Cassiel stay close to Fenrir’s sides.

“Are these your girlfriends?” Morven’s wife asks.

“They’re my bullies,” Fenrir says with a smile. “Yeah, we’re together.”

“You three look precious together! I’m sure Naomi here will be looking forward to being friends with your children.”

Cassiel, Fenrir, and even Serra all light up red.

“Haven’t I told you not to go around teasin’ folk you barely know?” Morven scolds his wife.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Teasing young couples is a guilty pleasure of mine.”

“Papa! Papa! I wanna play that game! And I wanna eat some of that, and I want that big fluffy thing!” their daughter, Naomi, excitedly shouts, her finger swinging around pointing at a dozen different things as she talks.

“Alright, alright. Sorry, Captain Fenrir, but we’ve got some things to do. Hope ya continue enjoying the festival!” Morven says, shaking Fenrir’s hand again.

“Yeah, hope you three enjoy it as well. See you during the tournament!” Fenrir says.

“You can count on that!”