‘Finally,’ Lutiel mused, promptly pulling the right foot down. Shaking slightly as he stepped on the dank floor beneath, invigorated, it fully touched the panels before replacing its counterpart.


    Despite how much his breath halted itself each kick he performed, under the ragged panting, he began kicking with his left leg, correcting himself any instance the right hand started itching.


    Although his throat began drying itself out the more kicks he performed, under the scrutinizing mark, it didn’t matter.


    ‘Easier, yet faster and harsher. I need to be more precise.’ He thought as the leg traveled through the room, a faint hiss accompanying.


    Tens of more came after, but to his pleasant surprise, he soon stared at the leg that remained in the air, perfectly repeating the right one.


    Needing much less compared to the previous leg, his bottom soon hit the ground harshly. His breathing completely unsteady, Lutiel leaned his back against the bed’s frame while his knees supported the elbows.


    ‘So much just to learn the basics of a kick.’ Staring at the dark room, illuminated by the fading mark around his hand, the man couldn’t help but keep his eyes upon it.


    Long after it had dimmed out completely did Lutiel finally move, standing up through his teetering legs.


    Using the bed frame to raise himself up, the wooden panels were no longer flooded, the sweat having seeped through them and disappearing completely.


    Walking awkwardly through the room, he took the set of servant clothes he had taken off prior to his training, proceeding to the door.


    Rapidly, he found himself walking barefoot against the mansion, his soles remaining clean throughout. With a quiet saunter, he maneuvered through the corridors.


    His arms full of clothes, Lutiel carried them all the way before a certain pair of doors. Close to each other, the one on the right led to the baths, the other being the laundry room.


    He moved close to the left door, beginning to reach out for the knob, however, just as his fingers were about to grasp the metal, he froze when a voice tumbled around his ears.


    Beyond the doors, a soft mumble escaped, followed by another with a continual cadence. The gentle whispering hushed for air while shrouding a faint noise of a splattering fluid.


    Mild, it dared to mingle in with the breaths. Yet, as the plashing intensified, while Lutiel’s curiosity neared his ear towards the wooden door, when he heard the moanings spread out behind the doors, he froze up.


    “Nghhhh~” the voice prolonged itself, indulging in whatever lay beyond the closed doorway. Of course, he would have had to be a fool to think his actions wouldn’t go unnoticed. Not a few moments after his ear grazed the outer layer of the door, the gasping for air stopped.


    “Kozs’o li nuent?!” A voice thundered throughout the corridor, not caring for those that might have been asleep already.


    Quickly, the doors opened fully while a shadowy figure revealed itself, gazing across the corridor back and forth, trying to see the perpetrator, but much to the figure’s surprise, it couldn’t find anything.


    “Ugh,” the shadow mustered up before abruptly closing, back inside.


    Meanwhile, Lutiel stood with his back placed at the bath’s doors, catching his breath from the sudden rush.


    His heart soon regaining its casual composure, he simply turned towards the bath.


    ‘Let’s just forget about that.’ He mused while staring at the empty bath, closing the doors before dropping the clothes to the ground. Without waiting any further, he took off his nightwear, steamy water flowing into the tub moments later.


    …


    His bare hands moved solemnly through the waters, a small knife inside his right hand while the other fished for something inside the large bucket in front of him. The metallic rims of them four bothered against each other, all wide enough to fit a couple chickens inside.


    Nonetheless, rather than chickens, potatoes sat on top of each other, peeking out from the sheer quantity. Lazing about inside the silty waters, Lutiel grasped one of them with his left before scraping the skin with lingering soil on it.


    The ones standing next to him followed his approach, a knife in their dominant hands, an identical vegetable engrossed in the other palm. All three began moving at different times, one nicking onto the skin, the knife going after the thumb before a peeling came off.


    One cut the skin continuously, a portion after portion, while the last one did a somewhat botched work, leaving the whitish-yellow flesh thoroughly rugged.


    Seeing it be thrown into the bucket with moderately fresh water filled with already peeled potatoes, one of the maids standing far right spoke up through the damp hairs hiding her features. Neglected somewhat, the oily mess on top of her head resembled seaweeds one could find sprawled across a shore, both in shade and shape.


    “Are you sure you don’t want to grate them?” She asked reservedly, with a quiet voice barely recognizable through the clamor they worked inside.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Filling the place abuzz, the hissing sizzle of a hot oil spread all the way from the large cast iron pot, bubbling pieces floating about at the top.


    “No,” he replied to the girl, however his voice had been muffled out by a sharp response coming from the other side.


    In the middle of grating a potato, the grated pieces fell to the pile inside a wooden bowl while she stopped. With a petulant undertone, the voice beamed. “I told you I’m not peeling them already.”


    “But you at least know how to,” the maid interrupted with the same soft tone, quickly adding while leaning behind the girl in the middle. “I meant she’s good at it.”


    “It’s fine,” he replied, continuing to peel another potato in his hand. Meanwhile, while his and Raeyine’s heads were lowered, only the girl with greasy hair could witness the eyes being rolled ahead of them.


    “What does it matter? It’s all going to be grated anyways,” saying so in an annoyed voice, she began quickly rocking her hand up and down on the metallic grater, more hash than ever descending down to its brethren in the wooden bowl.


    The head full of unkemptness moved up, stopping the hands from any motion. Stranding off from each other, the hairs unveiled bits and pieces of her face, dark red eyes glaring at the one before her. With no shine especially, she glared at her.


    “I don’t like wasting the flesh,” she said, slowly opening her mouth.


    “I don’t like getting dirt in my nails,” the girl with a single, curved horn on her teal head barked back at the gentle words.


    “Just stop already,” the tallest maid of them all, standing in the middle of the trio, said suddenly while persistently peeling the skin off the potatoes. Cutting the one to her right before she could speak once more, Raeyine spoke again right after. “He’s already gotten the hang of it.”


    Not even looking at the man on her left, she said before the green-haired girl leaned in front of her. Her hairs not swaying the slightest bit as her body froze in place, she simply looked at the white-haired man peeling the skins off.


    She had to admit, when she herself used the knife, some lines remained on the potato flesh, but as he did it, the almost transparent skins left behind nothing, a smooth, round potato with no obscurities falling into the clear waters soon after.


    “W-which one was this since you first started?” She asked with a somewhat shaky voice.


    “Fifth.” With a concise reply, he stretched his hand to collect the sixth potato, following the same technique. All the while, the girl silently followed back to her bucket, promptly returning to peel the half-finished vegetable in her hands.


    Cutting with her head up, she fully focused on the potatoes after an overt smirk creeped into her vision.


    In the meantime, while she shut herself, the one standing close to the sizzling oil silenced it before an even louder roar came forth. Putting out the golden brown, round potato patties on the side to cool down, she promptly put the raw ones into the torrid, golden oil.


    Immediately, as the sizzling settled, she turned around, her eyes focused onto the girl with the wooden bowl.


    “Kozs’i dize-,” she began speaking in demonic, however, her words were stopped, interrupted by Raeyine.


    “Ahem,” she coughed forcefully, making the girl with bright, brown hairs turn to her. “Didn’t we agree on something?”


    “I forgot, alright? But still, do we have to always speak human with him here? It gets tiring after a while,” she said, getting a brisk nod of agreement from the grating maid.


    “I don’t-,” Lutiel started speaking, though his mouth suddenly shut itself, on the brink of biting his tongue.


    “As long as he’s here, you will have to. Unless you have a way for him to understand demonic,” Raeyine replaced his speech, a silence pervading after her words for a few moments.


    “Well, I very much doubt that. Fine, whatever you say, lady’s maid,” she said sneeringly, walking closer to the bowl full of potatoes and taking it.


    “How many are there left? I’m going on a date later and I haven’t had some nice plucking in a while,” the maid with a curved horn asked while leaning over the table, trying to take a peek at their buckets.


    “You’re so funny,” the black-haired maid sighed in exasperation, under the chuckles of the two girls arguing with her.


    “What? Didn’t you say something about speaking human?”


    With unimpressed eyes, she continued to peel the potatoes, not even staring at them anymore. “I’m taking a silver dracar off of your pay this week,” she said, immediately swaying their attitudes.


    “Oh, Raeyi, it’s just a joke, come on,” she said, eyes widened through her teal hair. However, hearing and seeing no response from her, the cooking maid reacted in her stead.


    “Haiane, you’re adding fuel to the fire,” she spoke while squeezing out the juices through a thin cloth she had just filled with grated potatoes. Gripping tightly, barely any fluid came out into the bowl anymore.


    “That’s what you get,” mumbling softly under breath, almost inaudible through the colluded hairs, the green-haired maid spoke.


    Turning her head to the source of the buzzing noise, Haiane stared the girl down until the bowl once again came under the grater.


    The mushy sound of potato flesh being ripped apart reignited itself under the oil, the awkward silence only interrupted by them along with the cutting. The drenched atmosphere that had overtaken the five servants inside lingered around for a while, only attempting to be loosened up once Lutiel was a few potatoes away from finishing his bucket.


    “So, how are you finding Miss Zyponia?” She asked, prompting almost all of the girls’ heads to spark up at her, the cook focused on her work. Sending vexed glances at the reactions, she still kept it at the man, who quickly returned the look.


    Lutiel felt surrounded by all three of them, especially their expectant faces, but taking a keen look into Haiane’s blue eyes, he spoke while clenching his stomach, his jaw and voice undisturbed.


    Recalling all the times so far he had spent with the lady, the man didn’t hide himself. “It’s okay,” he said, not impressing any of the girls gathered.


    “Is that all?” The girl that tended for the potatoes asked, her back still facing the table. “Don’t you think she’s pretty cute?”


    His ears rang with the question while he continued to peel the skins, a straight face staying for all the time he stood in the same place.


    “I wouldn’t dare have such thoughts.”


    “It’s okay, we won’t tell Miss anything about it,” the maid with a curved horn spoke, stopping in the middle of grating. However, as she looked for any change in his face, the one to his right finally stepped in.


    “Let’s stop this mindless talk. You’re not making him any more comfortable with these questions.”