God, I love when Baldric is in charge of stuff.

Okay, not really. But the man was efficient. A lot more efficient than I would have thought, at first blush. He had the mind of a mid level manager, or an administrator of some kind, quickly able to identify everyone’s personal strengths and weaknesses and assign tasks in a way that just made sense. It was exceptionally interesting to see Baldric in his zone of competence, which I had assumed was primarily centered around talking to people and making a fool of himself. No, as it turns out, he was very capable, just not in the way I’d initially thought.

Chanak, by dint of having lived in a proper Excelsian home before and being the most familiar with the kitchen since he’d been the one to clean it (not out of choice, but I didn’t bring that up), was set to heating the food and plating it. For the most part, Ingrit had done a good job of portioning the food into single servings, so plating wouldn’t be hard, but the food had dropped from piping hot to just barely lukewarm in the time it had taken Ellem and I to get back to the manor. Chanak protested for a few seconds, before Baldric’s insistent wore him down and he just nodded and headed to the Kitchen. Come to think of it, I actually didn’t know how far Excelsian technology had progressed. Did the kitchen just have a large firepit? A modified oven of some kind? A captive Fire Spark? Thankfully that was Chanak’s responsibility.

Ellem was tasked with setting up the dining room, which consisted of a single, large table that appeared to be carved out of a single chunk of wood. The wood seemed familiar, a little like the Living Wood that Aastor had given me as a present. Baldric quickly located the various accouterments for Dinner, including multiple sets of thick, linen cloth, and explained exactly how each place needed to be set up. Ellem, for her part, listened quietly, asking a probing question every so often to make sure she understood her task, and then set about it diligently. Even if she didn’t have the theoretical memory of it, her fingers and muscle memory still had the deftness and adroit skill of an experienced crafter. Napkins were perfectly folded, cutlery was placed at 90 degree angles with clinical perfection, and charger plates were cleaned and gleaming by the time she was done. While the Ellem of yesterday may have felt the twinge of wounded pride at having to do something as menial as set up a dinner table, Ellem post memory loss seemed to have nothing but quiet satisfaction at a job done well. At least she was happy!

As Ellem and Chanak went about their respective tasks, however, Baldric turned to me, urgency in his eyes.]

“Cherry Ale? Cherry?” Baldric looked stricken.

“It’s what the barkeep recommended. Cherry Ale to start with, followed by Excelsian Red.” I admittedly had never paid much attention to how menus were set. In general, I was not a picky eater, especially after having visited a dozen worlds with different tastes and different local flora and fauna. Bread was about the only thing I truly cared about when it came to food. Generally, my preference for ordering off a menu was to buy the cheapest thing that seemed similar to something I’d eaten before. OR to have a local order something for me, assuming I could trust the locals.

“Cherry? Cherry? Oh heavens Sir, shall we also perhaps provide everyone with knives so they can skewer their tongues off?” Baldric was gesticulating wildly, a small bead of sweat dripping off his brow. “Or even better, perhaps we should simply walk over and spit into the food?”

“Baldric?”

“Yes?”

“You understand that I’m employing you, right?”

“I do, but even so-“

“No.” Ellem making fun of me? Fine, I actually enjoyed Ellem’s company. And Chanak was useful. And Fay…could beat me up. But Baldric was only a small step above DreAn, and I would not be insulted by a blowhard in yellow silks. “Speak to me like that again, and Kel will make you leap out the window.”

“Ah, ‘twould be a better fate than to drink…” He shuddered so violently that I wasn’t even sure if it was a real reaction, or simply part of the charade. “Ch-Cherry Ale.”

I sighed, and rolled my eyes. “Fine. What would you suggest?”

“Hmmm….the Boaka appears to be a fine, succulent white. Were I hosting, I would pair this with…perhaps a Mendolia Grey, or a Ver-Kha Green.”

“Ah, of course! Give me a minute, let me just pop over to the nearest trans-dimensional portal and GET WINES FROM YOUR HOMELAND!” I was fast losing patience with Baldric, which wasn’t really his fault. But he was also being supremely unhelpful, which definitely was his fault. “How about something more local?”

“Uhm…Uhh…Ah! Do we have…a wine cellar?”

Of course. God, I’d been hoping we could avoid the wine cellar. Something told me I wouldn’t enjoy what I found down there, especially since it had been on my list of daily chores.

The logic was fairly simple. The System clearly had some level of limited Omnipotence and Omniscience. It could also just be completely Omniscient and simply choose not to reveal critical information or insights to me, but that didn’t matter. Semantics, as they say! However, with this Omnipotence and Omniscience, Isekai Hero also wanted me to get stronger or to have me follow some kind of carefully defined path that would result in certain outcomes. For example, why bother rewarding me for defending the carriage from bandits? Aastor had set the quest, but the System had registered it as a real command. Or the negation: Why were there no quests for trivial, everyday tasks like walking to the Market? The System didn’t think anything noteworthy would happen in that time, and had therefore not bothered to prepare a quest and quest reward for the journey. My theory was simple: If there was a quest attached to a task, the task was likely going to be difficult or impactful in some way. Isekai Hero had worked similarly before, and I saw no reason for it to work differently now.

Now, the grander, more philosophical question: Why? Why was Isekai Hero training me in this way? Putting me on a specific path, and watching me get steadily stronger? And if that was it’s aim, why was I now a Butler of all things? There was either an important outcome that Isekai Hero wanted me to fulfill in this role…or I had fallen out of favor with XXXXXX, or whoever the creator of Isekai Hero was. Either way, I wanted to track down the person who was making all these decisions, but that was a long term goal.

The short term goal was pointing out to Baldric that I didn’t care one whit about Aastor and Fay drinking Cherry Ale. In fact, I didn’t even know if Drakul ate human food, so it really was just Aastor. And I didn’t think that the old man cared about whether or not his skewered meat came alongside a serving of Cherry Ale or Excelsian Red or Bull-dropping Brown.

Chirrup!

Kel, no.

Chirrup? Chirrup chirrup!

Kel proposed an interesting plan.

I didn’t know what lay in wait down in the cellars. Perhaps it was an entire clan of Drakul. Perhaps it was the ravening monster that Aastor had let loose upon the Calamity yesterday. Perhaps it was a new and exciting horror that desired Butler flesh. One way or the other, going into an unknown area without backup was a rookie mistake, the kind that would likely get me killed. Instead, it was best to go downstairs with the most…expendable member of the Party. And while I didn’t really have a Party right now, my Understaff would serve as a good stand-in, which made Baldric…the most expendable member.

Kel was a harsh little hedgehog! And she was growing more and more eloquent by the hour. Perhaps all Mind Sparks were equally cold and calculating? And grew at similarly prodigious rates? Or perhaps Kel wasn’t a Mind Spark at all? My profile page had revealed no new information about her, but my intuition told me that I would likely have been able to see her type if I already knew it. Instead, all I saw was “?????”.

“Well, Mr. Baldric, as you have rightly guessed, we do indeed have a wine cellar!” I clapped the man on the back, in a sudden show of camarederie. “And you, Baldric the Buccaneer, shall be helping me pick the right wine for this occasion.” And also possibly serve as bait, in the unlikely but not impossible scenario where that function becomes necessary.

“Of course. If there is one thing Buccaneers and Swashbucklers are well known for?” Baldric smiled, proudly. “Our taste in wine is impeccable! Impeccable, I say! Lead the way, Mr. Blanc, and we shall ensure this is a meal to remember.”

***

Okay, something was definitely watching us. We didn’t have a lot of time, partly because Dinner needed to be served and the wine was the first course, and partly because whatever was watching us seemed to be getting steadily more agitated. Isekai Hero hadn’t given me a combat warning yet, which was good. But I did still feel the telltale chill of someone tracking my every movement.

Baldric, on the other hand, had no such reservations or instinct for self-preservation. He bent over, looking at the bottom rack of a small set of mahogany shelves, each of which had a few bottles of wines of different colors.

“Aha!” Triumphantly, he pulled out a glass bottle with a glimmering white liquid swilling about inside. “This, right here! Perfection, I would say, simply from the coloring alone. Look at the sparkles, Mr. Blanc. The aura of majesty!”

“Yes, yes, very well done Sir. Now perhaps we should leave?” I stressed the last word, trying to convey my urgency. I didn’t want startle the creature that occupied this room, but I also didn’t want to linger any longer than I had to.

“Before we do so, Mr. Blanc, I think we must have a conservation.” His face was notably more serious than it had been moments ago. “I believe that your attitude towards me has become rather…condescending. I understand that you are now my employer, Mr. Blanc, but I will not stand for such rudeness against a person of my eminence!”

ARE YOU SERIOUS? NOW? I had been impatient with Baldric, and yes, perhaps it was uncalled for. Perhaps wishing death upon him everytime he opened his mouth wasn’t the kind of trait that either a Butler or a Chosen One should have. But now?

“Of course Sir. Perhaps we can discuss this later?” I spoke through gritted teeth. “After all, I believe a Dinner awaits us?”

“No, I think it would be best to hash this out right now!” Baldric gave a little laugh. “And of course, I understand personality conflicts. I am, after all, the leader of my little group of ne’er-do-wells, and you are the one who has hired us all. So naturally, there are leadership conflicts.”

He went on for a few seconds, but I’d stopped paying attention. It was hard to take Baldric seriously at the best of times, and even harder when the creepy, hostile feeling of the cellar continued to grow around us. Unfortunately, my instincts were right, and as Baldric went on about “Modes of Feedback” (what?), I continued to scan the area, looking for any sign of something that was amiss.

Alas, I found it, right behind Baldric: A pair of glowing, red eyes that glittered with malice and looked directly at us.