SHC06_C6 A Pig That Climbs Trees with Praise Is No Ordinary Pig

A Pig That Climbs Trees with Praise Is No Ordinary Pig

“Is—is that true!?”

At the grand dining table, large enough to seat fifteen guests with room to spare, Ms. Rottenmeier—usually the paragon of elegance and calm, offering quiet corrections on etiquette—suddenly leapt to her feet, her chair crashing back behind her with a bang.

Whoa. That was unexpected.

Startled, I blinked up at her, but she quickly composed herself, righted the chair, and sat down again.

“…And so, you say you can now use magic?”

“Yes. I confirmed it myself with my skill screen. It looks like the magical nerve network settled earlier than expected.”

“What an incredible development…!”

Unlike the ever-serene Mr. Romanov, Ms. Rottenmeier had her hands clasped as if in prayer, visibly trembling with emotion.

So… they both knew I had magical potential all along?

The eyes of trained educators are terrifying.

Maybe they have some kind of legendary teaching skill—like turning a hopeless student into a top-tier scholar. Training Arc: Noble Brat Edition.

I was musing nonsense like that when I met eyes with Ms. Rottenmeier—well, I think we met eyes; it’s hard to tell through her glasses. Her usually strict expression had softened just a little.

“Young Master,” she said, “this calls for a celebration!”

“A celebration?”

Was unlocking magic that big of a deal?

Well, if she says it calls for celebration, then it must be.

“In that case, please have wine served—one glass per person—for everyone in the estate.”

Ideally, I’d open a whole bottle from the wine cellar for each staff member, but I’m still just a kid. I don’t really have that authority. A glass each will have to do.

I cut into my soufflé omelet. The knife sank through the fluff like a dream, and the texture made me giggle with joy.

I glanced up—Ms. Rottenmeier’s expression was unreadable, but Mr. Romanov was staring at me with a fantastically weird look on his face. Fork in hand. Omelet untouched.

“…Is it not good?” I asked.

“No, it’s delicious. That’s not the issue.”

“Then… what is?”

“Young Master, when I spoke of a celebration, I meant for you. We’ve received your treat, yes, but what do you want?”

“…Me?”

“Yes, Agaha. You can use magic now. That’s an important milestone. You’ve earned a reward. Is there anything you want?”

Honestly? It didn’t feel like something worth celebrating.

It wasn’t my own doing. The only reason I can use magic now is because Hyakka Koushu pressed the right meridian. And even that only happened because of the knowledge inherited from the other me.

I didn’t really do anything.

And yet, from the depths of my mind, the old me whispered:

“If someone offers, take it.”

“Now’s your chance to stock up on cool hobby supplies!”

“Don’t you want something delicious!?”

Of course I do! Of course I want tools for my hobbies! Of course I want delicious food!

You monster!

Give me a better excuse than “just take it!”

“…T-then…”

I caved.

Led astray by the wicked whisperings of my inner gluttonous pig self, I chose to be weak.

Later that night, just as I was about to go to bed, I went to close the window—when something fluttered in.

A butterfly with wings that shimmered in rainbow hues under the moonlight.

It was so beautiful, I reached out instinctively. The butterfly dodged my short fingers, then gently landed on my head—before dissolving into soft light.

“I nearly forgot to mention this: Tomorrow, I expect a different kind of song.”

“Eep!?”

The voice echoed directly inside my head. I looked around in a panic, but no one else was in the room.

“What’s this? Have you already forgotten my voice, though we just met earlier today?”

“N-no! You just caught me off guard…”

“Hm. You’re surprised I can speak without appearing before you? I am a goddess, you know. I don’t need to manifest every time I want a chat. That butterfly was simply my messenger. It delivers my voice to mortals.”

“Ohh… it was so beautiful…”

“Naturally. Anything crafted by divine hands must be beautiful. But enough about that. I want a new song tomorrow.”

“Um… what kind of song?”

“Hmm. Do songs that praise gods exist in your ‘other world’?”

I thought for a moment.

Come to think of it, the religion with the cross symbol had songs praising the mother of their deity…

“Well… yes, they do. But, they’re specific to certain gods, and—”

“That doesn’t matter. I don’t mind. If I were bothered by that, the gods of this world would be at war every day. Now, what about love songs? Songs full of heartbreak and drama? I want those too!”

She leaned in—figuratively—very enthusiastically.

The way her eyes (well, her presence) sparkled made me smile.

If she liked music that much, she’d probably love the grand musicals and opera performances from my old world. I wished I could show her…

“This ‘musical’ and ‘opera’ you’re thinking of—what are they?”

“Eh—?”

Did I say that out loud?

I clapped a hand over my mouth, but she was already laughing.

“You didn’t say it, but your heart was practically shouting. Gods can hear the voices of the soul, you know. How else would we hear prayers?”

Fair point.

I nodded, understanding dawning—just as her voice echoed one last time in my head.

“It’s late. Time for children to dream. We’ll talk more of musicals and operas tomorrow. You’d better 

come.”

“Yes, I’ll be there. I promise.”

“Good. Until then.”

The rainbow butterfly reappeared briefly, then fluttered back out the window.

I curled into bed, heart fluttering with excitement.

Tomorrow was going to be a lot of fun.

Euneun; Thanks for reading~

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