Chapter Sixty-One: On the Right Track

When Kevin arrived punctually at the Earl’s residence, Sunny was already sitting obediently in the room, waiting. Although her expression still showed considerable resistance, she kept her head down and didn’t even glance at Kevin when he entered, nor did she greet him.

Kevin walked over and rapped on the table. “Where are your noble manners? Stand up and greet your teacher!”

Sunny puffed up her cheeks, lifted her head in defiance, but remained silent.

Only then did Kevin notice the red mark on her forehead, and he teased, “Did you sleep face down last night? There’s a red imprint on your forehead. Haha!”

“Humph!” Sunny turned her head away, ignoring him.

“I recall you once said this world respects strength above all. So, who do you think is stronger, you or me?” Kevin sat opposite her, tapping the table.

Sunny still faced away, unmoving and silent.

“Lost your voice today?” Kevin raised an eyebrow. “The strong set the rules. Now, I set the rules. Anything to say?”

Still, Sunny said nothing.

“Very well, let’s just see who gives in first.” Kevin shrugged, opened a textbook, and began reading, ignoring her. He left Sunny to her own devices.

They sat quietly for quite some time until Sunny grew increasingly restless, unable to sit still—a child’s nature is to be active, and she soon found the silence unbearable.

“Feeling uncomfortable? Take a book and read for a while.” Kevin tossed her a literature book.

Sunny hesitated, but finally opened it. The literature book, if nothing else, was filled with illustrations, which naturally drew a little girl’s attention.

After a moment of silence, seeing her interest piqued, Kevin began to explain some amusing stories—a few fables, fairy tales, and some light-hearted jokes suitable for children, never anything inappropriate.

“Once upon a time, there was a peaceful village of sheep. One day, a wolf arrived, plunging the village into crisis. The sheep joined forces to resist the wolf. The struggle lasted a long time; the wolf kept trying to eat the sheep, and the sheep kept fighting back. In the end, the wolf never managed to eat any sheep,” Kevin narrated, choosing a tale for young listeners.

“So here’s the question: If the wolf never caught a sheep for so long, why didn’t it starve to death?” Kevin posed the riddle.

Sunny couldn’t help but ponder, then asked, “Did the wolf eat other animals?” “Does the wolf absorb magical elements and not need to eat?” “Is the wolf like a dog, and can ****?”

“None of those,” Kevin chuckled. “The truth is, I don’t know either.”

“Haha, if you don’t know, why ask?” Sunny laughed, but at least today her smile was not as hostile as yesterday.

“Because the reason is simple. It’s a very long story, so long that the author simply overlooked such details,” Kevin replied.

Sunny was speechless.

“Perhaps the author deliberately ignored the question. Maybe it was originally meant to be a short story—if the wolf and the sheep only clashed once, there’d be no question of starvation. But during the writing, the author found that prolonging the chase was more interesting, so the wolf kept escaping, and the showdown went on forever.”

“I’ve seen many similar works: a cat and mouse chasing each other for years, stories where the protagonist and side characters endlessly reminisce with dragons and passersby for over a decade, or a child who remains a year old after twenty years, or a giant whose eyes look like duck eggs, who’s been beating up monsters for fifty years using only a few moves,” Kevin joked.

Sunny: “…”

“You know what that is? That’s literature,” Kevin paused, then added, “or at least, part of it.”

Sunny: “…”

Children’s moods come and go quickly. Kevin effortlessly lifted her spirits and soon had her following his lead. Having traveled widely, he had plenty of anecdotes and silly tales. Entertaining a child was no challenge at all.

The conversation carried them to noon, when a knock came at the door: “Miss, it’s time for lunch.”

Kevin and Sunny exchanged a glance. Nobles’ meals were always complicated, full of etiquette. Kevin, of course, had no right to eat at their table, so he stayed put. Soon, a maid brought him food. The Earl’s household spared no expense, and Kevin was used to all flavors, so he had no trouble with the meal.

A short while later, Sunny returned carrying her own plate. “I’ll eat here.”

“Alright,” Kevin replied, secretly gratified—he had clearly gained Sunny’s approval. He felt he was living up to his role as a private tutor.

During the meal, they chatted on, and Sunny eventually left some food uneaten.

Kevin admonished her, “Don’t waste it. Your food is obviously different from mine. I bet it’s made especially for you, the little genius. The ingredients must be expensive.”

Sunny pouted. “Then you finish it.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Kevin took her plate and polished it off.

After a brief rest, they went for a walk. When it was time, they returned to the lessons. However, the afternoon was hot, and Sunny was a bit sluggish. Kevin knew teaching under those conditions would be ineffective, so they simply chatted.

Before dinner, Kevin suggested they practice magic together. Sunny, still unsatisfied with her failure the previous day, agreed to try again. Kevin was also eager to hone his own magical skills.

And so, Kevin’s days fell into a steady rhythm. He’d wake up early for exercise, head straight into the capital to work as a tutor, enjoy two meals there, then hurry back after dinner to deliver a speech at the tavern—otherwise, he’d have no money for travel. Afterward, he’d return to the barracks to sleep.

Life was busy and fulfilling. There were hardly any days off. Every workday began with a trip through the teleportation gate, and the fare was considerable. Of course, Sunny didn’t study daily; after Kevin set the schedule, mornings were for lessons, afternoons for rest, conversation, or magical practice, and weekends were spent playing together.

To the rest of the military, Kevin seemed to have an enviable arrangement. He was always out, unsupervised, and there were plenty who complained about him behind his back. Kevin was aware—sometimes Start would stop by in the evenings to discuss military matters.

But what did it matter if others complained? Kevin laughed to himself—if anyone wanted his position, they were welcome to take it. Even if the general himself objected, Kevin would argue his case. No budget, no personnel—what was he to do? They expected him to make a battered old catapult combat-ready? Why not ask him to fly? It was laughable.

Meanwhile, Sunny made rapid progress. Whether it was Kevin’s teaching or her own talent, once she truly wished to learn, his work became much easier. Besides the core subjects of language, mathematics, and foreign studies, Kevin supplemented her education with history, culture, military affairs, politics, and occasionally taught her to draw, play cards, or chess—refined pursuits suitable for a young lady.

Sunny was happy nearly every day. For a child, having an older brother figure to play with was a delight. For Kevin, being saddled with a little brat was sometimes frustrating, but Sunny was not overly troublesome, and as they grew familiar, he found her quite tolerable.

Each afternoon, they made time for magic practice, allowing Kevin to witness almost all the basic spells—a good exercise for him as well. Reading about magic is one thing; without sparring or experience, actual combat would leave him uncertain against any opponent.

Fortunately, Sunny’s power was limited—her magic was numerous but immature. If he had to duel a real mage, Kevin wouldn’t be so confident. This gradual process suited him, and besides, no other mage would want to spend all day sparring with him.

The way to defeat Sunny wasn’t a secret, just uncommon. Even if Kevin didn’t say, she’d eventually figure it out. So he told her directly: to counter Kevin, either alter her magic-gathering method, or use movement and lower-tier spells to suppress him and create an opening.

But at ten, Sunny wasn’t capable of changing her methods. Their battles became exchanges of magic missiles, with Kevin focusing on interrupting spells. Often, he’d feign an opening, prompting Sunny to attempt a more advanced spell—only to be interrupted every time.

In the end, experience won out—Kevin was older, had undergone recruit training, and possessed greater stamina, focus, and awareness. Bullying a child was hardly a challenge.

During their afternoon sessions, they often encountered Little Spoon carrying firewood past them, sometimes three or four times a day. At first, Kevin dared not speak to her, recalling the Earl’s sudden appearance behind him. But as time passed and his courage grew, he ventured a greeting.

“Hey, aren’t you the maid who dropped the firewood last time?” Kevin’s attempt at small talk was clumsy. “How are you?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Little Spoon answered with a bright smile.

After a brief silence, she continued on her way. “I’ll be going then.”

“Mm.” Kevin nodded, then returned to practicing with Sunny.

After that first exchange, whenever she passed, Kevin would greet her, “Hey!”

And Little Spoon would respond, “Hey!”

But that was the extent of their conversation. In a month, they’d never said anything more. Sometimes Kevin wondered about the Earl’s household—given the Earl’s near-supernatural abilities, there was surely nothing in the manor that escaped his notice. And with Little Spoon’s limited skills as an assassin, her presence seemed odd.

But Kevin didn’t dwell on it. He focused on his teaching—curiosity killed the cat, and the secrets of the nobility were best left undisturbed. Knowing too much could only lead to disaster.

A month passed quickly, and at the beginning of October, Kevin decided it was time to ask for his wages. Once again, he sought out the Earl.

“My lord, how was my probationary period?” Kevin inquired.

“Not bad,” the Earl replied, still reading in his study. “You’re more capable than I expected.”

“Thank you.” Kevin’s face broke into a smile.

“But since you arrived, Sunny insists on eating in her room with you, and her appetite has increased dramatically,” the Earl remarked.

Kevin was speechless.

“Never mind, eat as you please. It’s not a big deal,” the Earl waved his hand. “You’ve taught well this month. I’ll grant you a thousand gold coins. You can collect it from the accountant shortly.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Kevin was overjoyed. He had expected more obstacles, but the reward was straightforward—after all, he’d only worked a month.

“A thousand gold coins is enough to repair your catapult,” the Earl said casually. “But if you want to add upgrades or magical modifications, that’s a bottomless pit.”

“Yes, my lord. In any case, thank you for your generosity,” Kevin replied, bowing in gratitude.