The Regressed SSS-Rank Water Mage Wants To Live a Calm Life-Chapter 18: A Sober Morning
Eyes fluttered open, and warm morning light trickled into them.
Staring upward, his gaze caught the wooden ceiling. And felt fresh air flowing in from the open window soothed his skin, while his nose detected the pleasant scent of breakfast being prepared somewhere downstairs. Probably Malik, the resident chef.
Maxwell blinked, sighing. Although his sigh broke midway. And a yawn erupted in place. The young mage stretched his arms, steadily rising from bed.
"My first morning," He whispered, although his voice rasped because he had just woken up.
Max’s vision was pseudo-blurry, and so, everything around his room appeared to him like mists. A painfully groggy vision. Maxwell rubbed his eyes, clearing the groggy sight away.
’Reminds me of the guardian of mists. Ugh.’
Suddenly, he straightened his posture, drawing in a deep breath as he closed his eyes.
"Hooo~" He exhaled.
Maxwell opened his eyes, and he glanced at himself. He wore only underwear, leaving his upper body fully exposed.
This made him chuckle nervously, like a sobered drunk realizing the mistakes he made while indulging in his drunken endeavors.
Last night, like a madman, exhaustion had moved him groggily. He barely managed to eat and take his bath. But by the time he decided to dress up in a more nightly attire before sleeping—
Max glanced at the nightwear lying raggedly on his bed, along with the crumpled bedsheets.
—he collapsed.
"Haha..."
Maxwell shook his head.
There was a lot to do today.
Quickly, he found a casual cloth in the wooden wardrobe that stood at the southern corner of the room. And he put it on.
As he wore the clothes, his soul stirred.
Max’s eyes widened.
"Frilo?"
A faint blue thread spilled out of his soul, gently snaking through the air.
Max’s facial expression lightened, and he smiled brightly.
"Frilo! Buddy! You’ve been mute since yesterday! That’s so unlike you. What happened?"
The blue thread immediately thickened and eventually morphed into its pixie form. The grandmaster spirit let out a low, cute-sounding squeal.
Max frowned. More of a playful frown.
"Don’t tell me you’re still mad about that?"
Frilo buzzed, flying around the room, azure energy trailing behind it.
Max chuckled, walking toward the door.
"I should apologize for being rude? But you were the one–"
Frilo let out a flute-like sound.
Max sighed.
"Fine. Forgive me, Frilo."
Frilo buzzed, wings flapping intensely as it pouted.
"That wasn’t enough?"
Frilo shook its tiny blue head.
Maxwell sighed once more.
"Forgive me, Frilo, the best, bravest, smartest, kindest, strongest spirit in all the Cacosphere!"
To this, Frilo brightened up, and a wide, bright smile surfaced on its tiny lips.
Through their soul-link, Maxwell felt a warm, comfortable feeling settle in his heart. He smiled, watching the giddy spirit circle around him as he walked out of the room, heading downstairs.
’How petty.’
"Alright, alright," Max said. "Time for breakfast."
Frilo jumped in the air.
***
Maxwell’s breakfast didn’t take long to finish. But he did have to wait a considerable while before he ate, though.
It was to be expected. After all, Malik was the apartment’s star chef. The S-rank chef, they dubbed him. He was a really great guy, at least that was the impression Maxwell had of the always-smiling, always-humming young man.
As Maxwell waited in a short queue of men and women before he could be served his own dish down in the kitchen, he watched Malik serve and prepare food. The young, brown-haired man looked happy and cheerful as he worked. For a moment, Maxwell wondered if this man was really a fierce mercenary.
But then, after more observation, Maxwell realized what it was that made Malik act the way he did. It was passion and love for what he did. It seemed the man favored cooking and serving more than he favored killing, hunting and adventuring. Well, it made more sense to Maxwell, after all, he was the same as Malik. And that made Maxwell think:
’I’d like to do something like this someday. Something calm and relaxing, something that I’ll very much love to do.’
It was a heart-warming thought. And it remained in Maxwell’s mind even as he eventually got his breakfast, went back up to his room, ate in silence — although with Frilo around, silence was impossible — and eventually prepared to head to the guild.
While he was heading out of the apartment, in the lawn area, a familiar voice called out to him.
"Oi, Maxwell!"
Max raised a brow as he gazed over his shoulder to view the man walking at a fast pace from the building’s entrance.
"Oh," Maxwell relaxed his brow, smiling. "Eithan."
The blond young man was a bit lean. He was fully dressed in a brown leather mercenary attire, although some silver patches stood out in his clothing at the chest and shoulder areas. They were half-armors. Maxwell was wearing the same. The only thing that differentiated their dressing apart from the overall style was the large, silver spear that hung on Eithan’s back.
Eithan smiled warmly, waving at Maxwell.
"Ya heading to the guild, too?"
Maxwell blinked, then looked down at his own leather mercenary battle gear, and he wondered if it wasn’t obvious that he was heading to the guild.
Still, Maxwell chuckled, shaking his head.
"What do you think?"
Finally, Eithan arrived at Maxwell’s side.
"I think I should join you." Eithan stretched his arms, and his joints cracked in place. "Been a while since I flexed my muscles."
Frilo, invisible to Eithan and others, noticed the blond man. And as curious as Frilo was, it flocked to him, tiny wings flapping. Once it got a look at Eithan’s warm, auburn eyes that reminded Max of autumn, Frilo beamed with a bright smile, circling Eithan’s head until it finally rested on the young man’s hair.
Maxwell watched with amusement.
"Sure," Max said, shrugging. "It’ll be my pleasure, Mr. A-rank."
Eithan paused, raising a brow.
"You know, seeing ya smile brightly like this feels kinda weird. But," Eithan shrugged, "I could get used to it."
Max chuckled.
"You better."
Side by side, they strolled to the guild building.
