Azael's POV
Azael moved into the small but comfortable ranch.
For him, this place was nearly perfect.
It wasn't overly large like the mansions scattered throughout the noble districts, nor was it cramped enough to feel suffocating.
There was a spacious backyard.
A decent training area.
Enough room for his monsters to move freely.
Most importantly, it felt private.
Azael had never particularly enjoyed large residences.
Too many rooms.
Too many servants.
Too much empty space.
A house only needed to fulfill its purpose.
Anything beyond that felt excessive.
"This place isn't bad at all."
He nodded to himself.
The weathered exterior even possessed a rustic charm that reminded him of countryside homes.
Of course, appearances could be deceiving.
Creeeak...
The front door slowly swung inward.
Azael confidently stepped inside.
The confidence lasted approximately three seconds.
"Cough!"
"Cough! Cough!"
A cloud of dust exploded into the air with enough force to send him stumbling backward through the doorway.
His eyes watered immediately.
His throat felt as though he had inhaled powdered stone.
"The dust..."
Another cough escaped him.
"It's too much!"
He stood outside for a moment, taking several deep breaths before daring to peek back inside.
The interior looked as though time itself had abandoned it.
A thick blanket of dust coated every visible surface.
Spiderwebs occupied the upper corners like ancient landlords.
Several pieces of furniture had faded beneath years of neglect.
Even the wooden floorboards looked offended by his presence.
Azael stared.
Then sighed.
The ranch itself was excellent.
The condition of the ranch, however, was a different story entirely.
This wasn't moving into a house.
This was adopting a historical ruin.
"I've been scammed."
"Kree?"
Mantislayer tilted his head.
Azael pointed dramatically toward the interior.
"Look at it."
Mantislayer obediently looked.
Then nodded.
"Kree."
Azael narrowed his eyes.
"Don't agree with me. Help me."
Turning around, he found his three companions standing proudly behind him.
Mantislayer stood upright with the posture of a seasoned warrior.
Leonarch sat regally beneath the sunlight, his golden mane shifting gently in the breeze.
Scarabian remained perfectly still.
Like an oddly shaped rock.
The three looked remarkably powerful.
Unfortunately, none of them looked particularly useful for household chores.
Azael clicked his tongue.
"Tsk."
"Tsk."
"Alright, everyone."
He clapped his hands together.
"It's time for us to clean this place."
Immediately, he began cycling through the hand signals he had taught them throughout the year.
Move.
Carry.
Push.
Work.
Clean.
Cooperate.
Azael repeated each signal carefully.
Mantislayer's eyes sharpened.
"Kree!"
The insect warrior instantly lowered his stance.
His scythes rose.
His entire body radiated battle intent.
He looked ready to duel an army.
Azael paused.
"...We are cleaning a house."
Mantislayer remained ready for combat.
Azael sighed.
Then turned toward Leonarch.
The lion's eyes lit up.
With a powerful flap of his wings, he released a majestic roar.
"Raaah!"
A brilliant golden aura briefly surrounded him.
He looked prepared to challenge destiny itself.
"Wrong activity."
Leonarch blinked.
Then proudly roared again.
Even louder this time.
Azael slowly looked toward his final hope.
Scarabian.
The beetle stared back.
Then slowly tilted his head.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
After several moments of contemplation, Scarabian wandered away and began investigating a random stone.
The stone was inside the house.
Azael didn't know why there was a stone inside the house.
Neither did Scarabian.
Yet both seemed equally interested in the mystery.
Silence fell.
Azael looked at his monsters.
The monsters looked at him.
Azael looked at the house.
The house looked significantly dirtier than before.
A realization struck him.
A devastating one.
'They don't understand a single thing I'm saying.'
Combat signals?
Perfect.
Battle formations?
Excellent.
Tactical maneuvers?
Flawless.
Cleaning instructions?
Absolutely incomprehensible.
One entire year of training.
Not a single lesson on sweeping floors.
What a tragic oversight.
Mantislayer suddenly swung his scythes through the air.
Fwoosh!
A nearby spiderweb disappeared.
Azael blinked.
Then another vanished.
Then another.
"Kree."
Mantislayer proudly pointed toward his work.
Azael stared.
"..."
"...You know what?"
He nodded.
"That's actually helpful."
Mantislayer puffed out his chest.
Leonarch immediately stood up.
Not wanting to be left behind, the lion unleashed a powerful gust of wind with his wings.
Whoooosh!
Dust exploded across the room.
Into the furniture.
Into the walls.
Into Azael's face.
"Cough!"
"Cough!"
Leonarch proudly wagged his tail.
Azael stared at him through watering eyes.
"...You're trying."
"Raaah."
Scarabian continued examining the mysterious stone.
Azael covered his face.
The sun hung high above the ranch.
The house remained filthy.
His monsters were enthusiastic but catastrophically unqualified.
And somehow...
He already knew exactly how this day was going to end.
With him doing ninety percent of the work.
Today was going to be long.
A very long day.
Karina's POV
Karina wandered through the streets of Othlon with a small notebook resting against her chest.
The capital remained unfamiliar despite her arrival several days ago.
It wasn't that she lacked a sense of direction.
Rather, Othlon itself felt impossibly vast.
Roads intertwined like woven threads, districts merged into one another, and every turn seemed to reveal an entirely new face of the city.
The contrast between Othlon and her hometown wasn't rooted in appearance.
It was rooted in scale.
Everything here felt larger.
Busier.
More accomplished.
The guards stationed throughout the city were no ordinary watchmen. Their postures were disciplined and unwavering, while the countless scratches decorating their armor spoke of real battles rather than ceremonial patrols.
Even the merchants seemed different.
Few stood alone.
Most were accompanied by monsters that assisted them with labor, transportation, or protection.
It created an atmosphere unlike anything Karina had experienced before.
A city where monsters weren't merely companions.
They were woven into everyday life.
The distant cries of beast-types echoed across the streets while merchant caravans rolled along the stone roads, their heavy cargo wagons pulled by creatures far stronger than ordinary horses.
Karina quietly observed everything.
Her emerald eyes occasionally drifted toward a new sight before returning to the notebook in her hands.
After taking several turns through the bustling districts surrounding the plaza, she gradually left behind the crowded center of the capital.
The noise began to fade.
The towering commercial buildings became less frequent.
The roads widened.
The air felt noticeably fresher.
Rows of trees appeared alongside the streets, their leaves rustling beneath the afternoon breeze.
Karina glanced down at the map sketched inside her notebook.
A few moments later, realization dawned on her.
"The trainer district..."
She softly murmured.
This area was dedicated almost entirely to trainers and monster caretakers.
Training fields.
Ranches.
Monster habitats.
Supply stores.
Everything a trainer might require could be found here.
A faint memory surfaced within her mind.
"Mother did say her old ranch was somewhere around here."
Recalling Kasha's words from earlier, Karina adjusted the notebook beneath her arm and continued forward.
Unlike the central districts, the trainer section possessed a calmer atmosphere.
The properties here occupied far more land.
Some ranches resembled miniature estates, complete with private training arenas and spacious monster enclosures.
Others were considerably smaller but no less well maintained.
Wooden fences stretched across open fields while distant monsters could occasionally be seen exercising alongside their trainers.
Karina silently examined each property she passed.
Most had nameplates mounted beside their entrances.
Others displayed family crests.
A few even carried banners denoting professional trainers.
"The prices here are probably terrifying."
She whispered to herself.
The thought alone was enough to make her imagine her savings evaporating.
A faint smile briefly appeared on her face.
She continued walking.
One ranch.
Then another.
Then another.
Yet none matched her mother's description.
Gradually, uncertainty crept into her thoughts.
Did I take a wrong turn?
Karina lowered her gaze toward the notebook once more.
Unfortunately, that decision lasted a second too long.
Thwak!
"Eek!"
A solid impact struck her shoulder.
The notebook slipped from her grasp.
Several loose papers scattered into the air like startled birds.
Karina stumbled backward before hurriedly regaining her balance.
Rubbing her forehead, she looked toward the unfortunate victim of her carelessness.
"Sorry for bumping into you."
The other person had fared even worse.
She had fallen onto the ground entirely.
Karina immediately stepped forward to help.
Only then did she properly notice the girl.
Brown hair partially covered her forehead, framing a face that carried a distinctly rural charm.
Her clothing consisted of a simple leather tunic and practical travel attire rather than the fashionable garments common within the capital.
Beside her stood a small yellow rabbit.
Tiny sparks crackled intermittently between its ears.
The moment it noticed its trainer falling, the rabbit immediately hopped forward.
"Pikri!"
The creature planted itself between Karina and the fallen girl.
Its tiny body trembled with determination.
Lightning flickered across its fur.
One tiny paw rose dramatically into the air.
As though preparing to challenge an overwhelmingly powerful enemy.
Karina blinked.
The rabbit blinked back.
For several seconds, neither side moved.
Then the rabbit puffed out its chest.
"Pikri!"
The declaration sounded far more heroic than its size justified.