Just as I was invited to Herkhov's house, sudden visitors arrived as if they had timed it perfectly.
It was already dark enough to call it night.
After confirming that I had hidden myself, Herkhov responded brusquely.
"What do you want?"
Then the visitors opened the door on their own and barged into the room.
"Hmm!? He's alone?"
"No, that can't be..."
"Where did the person he brought in go?"
Three bear cubs appeared.
Fluffy and round, every part of them was circular.
And apparently, they had come thinking someone was here.
Why?
"You guys..."
Herkhov spoke in a growl.
Despite his terrifying beastly face, the three bear cubs weren't frightened.
Rather, from their behavior, they seemed to be close acquaintances.
"And here we thought it was big news that spring had finally come for Uncle."
"You've been staying out late lately, so you definitely found someone nice, right?"
"The footsteps were light and the voice seemed high-pitched too."
Uh oh, this is...
(From their statements, I deduce they are likely blood relatives.)
(Right? But it's a bit troublesome that they think I'm a remarriage partner.)
(Unable to comprehend the reason for trouble. Querying whether Herkhov, the master's tutor, has a marital history.)
(He does. I only heard about it, and apparently he was already widowed by the time I met him.)
Herkhov had a beastman wife when he was young.
I don't know the details, but I heard she passed away.
They had no children, and he remained faithful to her, not remarrying.
It seems this was from when Father was in the military, so he was already a widower about ten years ago.
And Father also became a widower when my birth mother passed away.
Apparently Herkhov took care of various things while Father was depressed.
He gave advice like "do it for a change of pace" or "think of the children first."
(And then, when Father became the Crown Prince, he invited Herkhov to the palace as a tutor because he was the only one who could be entrusted with me, given my delicate position.)
I heard all of this from Wearrel and Ikt.
The person himself says he didn't do anything significant and doesn't want to talk about it.
Come to think of it, this might be the first time Sephira has shown interest in others like this.
Perhaps she's developing communication skills from the increased interaction through voice and light?
"As if we'd be fooled! Someone was definitely here!"
"The smell lingers! Someone was here!"
"We know you had them sit in this chair!"
The bear cubs, who were Herkhov's nephews, had apparently barged in thinking I was still in the room.
Moreover, while I've turned off the camouflage now, I hadn't dealt with the scent I had already left behind, so they found out.
(Ask Herkhov if it's alright to show myself.)
I make contact through Sephira.
Then, through the reply from Herkhov's side, I was briefly informed of the nephews' circumstances.
Apparently all three are craftsmen, barely more than apprentices who can't even be called mid-tier, obscure and undistinguished.
They're being told to return to their northern hometown, but the three have taken a liking to life in the imperial capital and don't want to go back.
(So they brought up the story about Herkhov's lover to avoid being urged to return home? What kind of logic is that?)
(I cannot comprehend.)
No, I understand, but it's shortsighted.
However, they have no connections to nobility, and if I tell them I'm incognito, they would understand not to spread rumors about involving nobility.
In other words, aren't they just the right people for the job?
I moved to the shadow of Herkhov's bed in the back of the room and crouched down.
"Good evening."
When I deactivated my optical camouflage and stood up, the bear cubs were so surprised their fur stood on end and they recoiled.
"Don't spout such foolish delusions."
"""Ouch!"""
Taking advantage of the opening, Herkhov consecutively knocked the three of them on the head with his thick hands that had paw pads.
"I'm Dinker, the son of Herkhov's colleague from his military days. I came here for advice. Who are you?"
"Ah, Dinker. These guys are adults, believe it or not. The difference in build from me is because they have dwarf blood. They're more than a full cycle older than you."
Oops, they were adults.
A full cycle means about twelve years older here? So over twenty, about Harti's age?
And apparently they're triplets.
Not only can't I tell beastmen apart, but these three apparently have the same face.
"You seem refined, so we don't need to change our attitude or anything, but I'm Renato. I'm a woodworker."
The bear cub with orange fur introduced himself awkwardly.
"Being from the military means you're some young master from somewhere, right? I'm Terenti, a blacksmith."
The bear cub with mostly yellow fur but white under his neck and on his hands smiled casually.
"Erasto. I'm a glassworker, but what are you doing with a guest at this hour?"
Purple fur... it seems beastmen, like humans, have color perception that doesn't match my previous life's color sense.
"That's why I was letting him rest a bit before sending him home now. Yet you barge in and disturb us."
When Herkhov held down the nearby orange-furred Renato, Renato raised his snout.
"...I smell alcohol."
""What did you say!?""
"Damn it!"
In an instant, Herkhov was swarmed by the three bear cubs.
Despite the difference in build, with the three clinging to him, Herkhov couldn't move.
"Huh? I've seen this scene somewhere before."
I have such a strong sense of déjà vu.
Well, no need to think about it—it's the three investors Molly called out to, right?
Come to think of it, dwarves love alcohol, don't they?
Herkhov likes alcohol too, so did the triplets' parents meet through alcohol?
(But woodworking, blacksmithing, and glass... just what I need. Sephira, search the Imperial Library for books on alchemical equipment crafting.)
(Understood.)
While preparing for Sephira to extract knowledge from the books she had read so far, I called out.
"Herkhov is helping me with my work. So that's probably the smell."
"Come to think of it, you have a medicinal smell. Are you an apothecary?"
Terenti, with yellow and white fur, asked off the top of his head.
"I'm making something similar to medicinal liquor. But since I'm a child, I'm having Herkhov act as an intermediary."
"Ah! That delicious liquor! Could it be that Dinker made it!?"
Erasto, with purple fur, seemed to catch on quickly, perhaps because he was sharp-eyed.
When I nodded, Herkhov quickly grabbed two of them under their arms as they tried to approach, and stepped on the other one with his foot.
A rough but swift restraint.
"Hey, so, Dinker?"
"Actually, I'm troubled because I can't find any craftsmen who can make the equipment that greatly affects the quality of the liquor."
"""Wh-what!?!"""
Herkhov looked up at the ceiling as if giving up, then offered a warning.
"I cannot guarantee their skill, you know?"
"We'll be making something that hasn't existed before from scratch. I think it will require time and passion."
"Ah, well, that might be true, but..."
"""Please! Let us help!"""
So quick, so quick.
They decided so quickly even though I haven't said what we're making yet.
Does alcohol have that much magical power?
And I had conditions for inviting them on a whim too.
Yeah, I should mention it just in case.
"For taste-testing, right now I only have people who like the same kind of alcohol as me. So I was thinking I'd like to hear your opinions too."
"If it's smell, I have particular preferences!"
"No matter what, I prefer a good mouthfeel!"
"The throat-feel! Nothing beats that, and I like it sweeter than these two!"
The three bear cubs pitched to me in an excited huff-huff state.
Even as triplets, their taste preferences seem to differ.
Come to think of it, I read somewhere that taste and smell are influenced by memories of likes and dislikes from when you touched things.
Yeah, I should be thankful that they're quick to agree.
Daily Update
Next: The Three Bear Cubs 4
I think this is a solid translation. I maintained the tone, kept the names consistent, preserved the paragraph structure, and handled the terminology appropriately. Just as I was invited to Herkhov's house, sudden visitors arrived as if they had timed it perfectly.
It was already dark enough to call it night.
After confirming that I had hidden myself, Herkhov responded brusquely.
"What do you want?"
Then the visitors opened the door on their own and barged into the room.
"Hmm!? He's alone?"
"No, that can't be..."
"Where did the person he brought in go?"
Three bear cubs appeared.
Fluffy and round, every part of them was circular.
And apparently, they had come thinking someone was here.
Why?
"You guys..."
Herkhov spoke in a growl.
Despite his terrifying beastly face, the three bear cubs weren't frightened.
Rather, from their behavior, they seemed to be close acquaintances.
"And here we thought it was big news that Uncle finally found romance."
"You've been staying out late lately, so you definitely found someone good, right?"
"The footsteps were light and the voice seemed high-pitched too."
Uh oh, this is...
(From their statements, I deduce they are likely blood relatives.)
(Right? But it's a bit troublesome that they think I'm a remarriage partner.)
(Unable to comprehend the reason for trouble. Querying whether Herkhov, the master's tutor, has a marital history.)
(He does. I only heard about it, and apparently he was already widowed by the time I met him.)
Herkhov had a beastman wife when he was young.
I don't know the details, but I heard she passed away.
They had no children, and he remained faithful to her, not remarrying.
It seems this was from when Father was in the military, so he was already a widower about ten years ago.
And Father also became a widower when my birth mother passed away.
Apparently Herkhov took care of various things while Father was depressed.
He gave advice like "do it for a change of pace" or "think of the children first."
(And then, when Father became the Crown Prince, he invited Herkhov to the palace as a tutor because he was the only one who could be entrusted with me, given my delicate position.)
I heard all of this from Wearrel and Ikt.
The person himself says he didn't do anything significant and doesn't want to talk about it.
Come to think of it, this might be the first time Sephira has shown interest in others like this.
Perhaps she's developing communication skills from the increased interaction through voice and light?
"As if we'd be fooled! Someone was definitely here!"
"The smell lingers! Someone was here!"
"We know you had them sit in this chair!"
The bear cubs, who were Herkhov's nephews, had apparently barged in thinking I was still in the room.
Moreover, while I've turned off the camouflage now, I hadn't dealt with the scent I had already left behind, so they found out.
(Ask Herkhov if it's alright to show myself.)
I make contact through Sephira.
Then, through the reply from Herkhov's side, I was briefly informed of the nephews' circumstances.
Apparently all three are craftsmen, barely more than apprentices who can't even be called mid-tier, obscure and undistinguished.
They're being told to return to their northern hometown, but the three have taken a liking to life in the imperial capital and don't want to go back.
(So they brought up the story about Herkhov's lover to avoid being urged to return home? What kind of logic is that?)
(I cannot comprehend.)
No, I understand, but it's shortsighted.
However, they have no connections to nobility, and if I tell them I'm incognito, they would understand not to spread rumors about involving nobility.
In other words, aren't they just the right people for the job?
I moved to the shadow of Herkhov's bed in the back of the room and crouched down.
"Good evening."
When I deactivated my optical camouflage and stood up, the bear cubs were so surprised their fur stood on end and they recoiled.
"Don't spout such foolish delusions."
"""Ouch!"""
Taking advantage of the opening, Herkhov consecutively knocked the three of them on the head with his thick hands that had paw pads.
"I'm Dinker, the son of Herkhov's colleague from his military days. I came here for advice. Who are you?"
"Ah, Dinker. These guys are adults, believe it or not. The difference in build from me is because they have dwarf blood. They're more than a full cycle older than you."
Oops, they were adults.
A full cycle means about twelve years older here? So over twenty, about Harti's age?
And apparently they're triplets.
Not only can't I tell beastmen apart, but these three apparently have the same face.
"You seem refined, so we don't need to change our attitude or anything, but I'm Renato. I'm a woodworker."
The bear cub with orange fur introduced himself awkwardly.
"Being from the military means you're some young master from somewhere, right? I'm Terenti, a blacksmith."
The bear cub with mostly yellow fur but white under his neck and on his hands smiled casually.
"Erasto. I'm a glassworker, but what are you doing with a guest at this hour?"
Purple fur... it seems beastmen, like humans, have color perception that doesn't match my previous life's color sense.
"That's why I was letting him rest a bit before sending him home now. Yet you barge in and disturb us."
When Herkhov held down the nearby orange-furred Renato, Renato raised his snout.
"...I smell alcohol."
""What did you say!?""
"Damn it!"
In an instant, Herkhov was swarmed by the three bear cubs.
Despite the difference in build, with the three clinging to him, Herkhov couldn't move.
"Huh? I've seen this scene somewhere before."
I have such a strong sense of déjà vu.
Well, no need to think about it—it's the three investors Molly called out to, right?
Come to think of it, dwarves love alcohol, don't they?
Herkhov likes alcohol too, so did the triplets' parents meet through alcohol?
(But woodworking, blacksmithing, and glass... just what I need. Sephira, search the Imperial Library for books on alchemical equipment crafting.)
(Understood.)
While preparing for Sephira to extract knowledge from the books she had read so far, I called out.
"Herkhov is helping me with my work. So that's probably the smell."
"Come to think of it, you have a medicinal smell. Are you an apothecary?"
Terenti, with yellow and white fur, asked off the top of his head.
"I'm making something similar to medicinal liquor. But since I'm a child, I'm having Herkhov act as an intermediary."
"Ah! That delicious liquor! Could it be that Dinker made it!?"
Erasto, with purple fur, seemed to catch on quickly, perhaps because he was sharp-eyed.
When I nodded, Herkhov quickly grabbed two of them under their arms as they tried to approach, and stepped on the other one with his foot.
A rough but swift restraint.
"Hey, so, Dinker?"
"Actually, I'm troubled because I can't find any craftsmen who can make the equipment that greatly affects the quality of the liquor."
"""Wh-what!?!"""
Herkhov looked up at the ceiling as if giving up, then offered a warning.
"I cannot guarantee their skill, you know?"
"We'll be making something that hasn't existed before from scratch. I think it will require time and passion."
"Ah, well, that might be true, but..."
"""Please! Let us help!"""
So quick, so quick.
They decided so quickly even though I haven't said what we're making yet.
Does alcohol have that much magical power?
And I had conditions for inviting them on a whim too.
Yeah, I should mention it just in case.
"For taste-testing, right now I only have people who like the same kind of alcohol as me. So I was thinking I'd like to hear your opinions too."
"If it's smell, I have particular preferences!"
"No matter what, I prefer a good mouthfeel!"
"The throat-feel! Nothing beats that, and I like it sweeter than these two!"
The three bear cubs pitched to me in an excited huff-huff state.
Even as triplets, their taste preferences seem to differ.
Come to think of it, I read somewhere that taste and smell are influenced by memories of likes and dislikes from when you touched things.
Yeah, I should be thankful that they're quick to agree.
Daily Update
Next: The Three Bear Cubs 4