If sauna, spirits and tar don’t help,

the illness is deadly.

-Old Gallian saying.

The walk to the town was not a long one, and Fayette soon saw the familiar silhouettes. Today, the town was surrounded by a dimly glowing blue field. Fayette approved. Good, if they’ve put the wards up, they’ve probably been alert. Things should be fine.

The walk through the woods had been a bit unnerving—normally the woods felt familiar and safe, but the day’s events had Fayette jumping at every shadow. She was glad to be back in safety.

Fayette did not feel like being subjected to the stares that walking through town in her bloody getup could bring. Word from the others would have been brought in, but she did not want to deal with any of that. She ignored the main path and began circling around the fields on her way to the orphanage.

She felt a cool chill as she passed through the ward. There was a bit of resistance to the membrane, but once it recognized her signature as one keyed to the town, it faded. Fayette stepped through and arrived outside the orphanage’s hedge fences.

The orphanage was a dreary building at the edge of town. Once, it had been a fashionable winter manor for some [Lord], but after a few decades of disuse, it had fallen into disrepair. It had been too much of a bother to repair the place into fit shape, so it had been repurposed to serve as a home for the needy.

If you really squinted, you could still see some remnants of the grandness that had once graced the place, but it did not hold up to closer inspection. The paint was flaked off the walls and few windows were intact.

Fayette walked through the gates and saw that her friend, Mireille, was waiting for her. The young [Seamstress] was pacing by the entrance, brown hair in a tangle and face furrowed deep in worry. Usually there was something of a skittish fox to her face, but now it showed only concern. Fayette only had a split second to take in the sight before she was noticed. Her friend ran over and the [Maid] was instantly engulfed in a crushing hug.

As Fayette felt Mireille’s messy hair brushing against her face, she felt that familiar urge to start tidying it up. Her fingers twitched from the instinct, which served to snap her out of the shock.

“Ah, Mireille? Sorry, I didn’t know you were waiting here.” She said, before relaxing and returning the hug.

Mireille brought her head up and looked the [Maid] in the eye. “Fay, you idiot. Of course I would be. After hearing what happened... The others said you were safe, but you took so long in coming. What were you doing?”

Fayette had not really considered such things and started to feel a bit guilty for spending all that time building an elaborate pyre. She... had been a bit out of it. Those events were the type to put a girl in a certain type of mood.

“I’m... sorry. It’s been quite the day. It was crazy, I was just sweeping some dust, doing proper cleaning work like I do, then blam! A kobold just crashes through the window!”

Fayette felt her mind relax, and the words began pouring out. Without realizing it, she had been waiting for a chance to tell someone about her experience. “And then I killed it! Me! I wacked it in the head with a broom, and it died, just like that! It felt so... simple, so sudden, and I even leveled from it! I had to go through the manor, but there were more of them, so I just kept going! I kept going, and they kept dying—to me!”

“Fay,” Mirielle tried to interject, but her words passed right through the [Maid], completely unnoticed.

“And then I found the others, but the [Lord], the bastard, he—” Fayette felt a spark of indignation, and her grip tightened. “He did it, he forced us to stay and fight, in a stupid spear line, and ran off! I managed to pull off that one gas trick, you know the one, I told you about it. The monsters died! then I went to the [Lord] and I killed him too! Just like that! The system even congratulated me! Then I got all mopey and decided to burn the place down, and then...”

Fayette realised that she felt a hand desperately tapping her on the back and was pulled out of her babbling. She finally registered a desperate, strained voice.

“Fay, Fay, Fayette! You are crushing me.”

She realised that her grip really had gotten quite intense there at the end, and pulled back, blushing lightly. Released, Mireille backed off and took a few deep breaths to gather herself, then turned to address the blood-soaked [Maid].

“Fay. You are babbling, and about some things I’m pretty sure you should not be saying out here in the open.” She said, pointing a decisive finger at Fayette.

Ah, true that. Murdering nobility is something I really should not be shouting out to the world.

Mireille however was not done, she walked closer, and poked her finger at Fayette’s face. “Second, you are a mess. I know how you are, if you are walking around looking like that, there is no way you are going to be able to calm down.”

Fayette winced back, then took a proper look at the [Seamstress]. She was dressed in a practical outfit, a simple and loose grey dress. At least it had been a plain grey dress. Now it was decorated further by streaks of red. Fayette cringed at the mess she had made.

“Yeah, I really do need to get clean...”

Mireille withdrew her finger, then gestured towards a building separate from the main orphanage, where a chimney was busy billowing out smoke.

“Don’t worry—I’ve made preparations. Let’s go get you washed up.”

That was the best thing Fayette had heard in a long while. She smiled brightly, a very different smile from the ones she had worn so far this day.

“Mireille, you are a lifesaver!” She shouted out, grabbing her friend back into a crushing hug.

“Gyaah! Don’t get any more of that blood all over me!”

Fayette could have gone for a bath, but such facilities were not for the use of meagre [Workers] like her. Here in the countryside, humble folk made do with a simple sauna—but Fayette had no issues with that. She had always enjoyed the practice.

It felt like it was not just the physical grime she was clearing away—there was something more to it. As she stripped herself bare of the sullied clothes and ran some lukewarm water over herself, Fayette felt like some more symbolic taint was being washed away along with the blood.

It had been a day of killing and death, but once she was seated inside the hot room, Fayette at last felt that it was over. She sighed as she felt the hot steam run over her skin—it was like a dark veil that had been covering her senses was finally being cast off.

She picked up the ladle and threw some more water on the stove. The water sizzled pleasantly as it turned to steam, and Fayette sat up straighter to make sure she felt as much of the heat as possible. After she felt it pass, she slunk back with a sigh.

“What a day...”

“So, feel any better Fay?” a voice asked from beside her. “I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through...”

Fayette looked to the side but saw only Mireille’s vague outline. It was a dark room with the only light being the dim flickering of the fire, which revealed little. It almost felt like she was speaking to some disembodied voice in the darkness.

It was a nice feeling. Fayette had always found that being bare in the hot darkness made it easier to form her thoughts—normally she was not much good at articulating things.

“It all still feels like a dream to be honest...” Fayette said softly, voice but a whisper. She felt that if she just closed her eyes and let herself fall asleep, she would wake up back in the servant’s quarter, just like any other day.

“Being caught up in it I felt so full of fire and fury, I actually held my own in battle!”

Fayette began to recount everything that had passed, with a more calm mind this time. Mireille did not interrupt, letting the [Maid] get all her feelings out. The tale was accented by the occasional sizzles of steam from water being thrown on the stove. A long moment of silence followed once Fayette finished.

“That thing with the command skill... It is disturbing. I’ve always thought that there was more to classes than they told us, but to think something like that is possible?” Mireille said slowly, thinking over her words. “I understand why you’re wary of becoming a subordinate. Honestly, now I am too.”

Mireille picked up the ladle and threw some water onto the stove. “I am however curious about how you levelled so much through combat; I wonder if the same could apply to a [Seamstress]?”

“I’m not sure how it works to be honest. Bernhard said something about similar things happening to other [Worker] classes, but he did not give any details.” Fayette replied. She closed her eyes in thought. “It just felt... right. Like it was something I should do. Maybe that’s just the type of [Maid] I am—one with a more... direct approach to removing filth.”

Mireille handed the ladle over to Fayette and leaned back on the bench. “You say that like you plan to continue fighting. You are a free [Maid] now, what are you going to do for work? We can probably get the orphanage to let you stay for a bit, but I’m not supposed to be staying here for much longer either...”

Fayette threw some more water on the stove while she thought. What did she want? She had always been a bit ambitious, and the rapid levelling had been pretty thrilling. What would such a path look like? She could hardly just become some wandering vagrant. She closed her eyes and tried to parse her feelings as the steam rose up.

Making the world a cleaner place by hunting down monsters did have an appeal, and Fayette did not feel her class resist the idea. I do think I have some talent in that. I managed pretty well in all the fights, didn’t I?

“You know Mireille, I’ve never wanted to be just an ordinary [Maid]. I’ve always wanted to be something of my own, get an uncommon class upgrade, then a rare one, then go even further. Past level 50.”

The [Maid] opened her eyes and leaned forward, looking at the fire roaring in the stove. “The holy book says that one’s leveling pace is determined by challenge, danger and following their class’s path. An ordinary [Maid] just doing her job and following orders—they’ll probably get a common upgrade at 15 and start stagnating, never getting much past 35. Not unless you have some interesting specialization, or are constantly changing up what you do, seeking new challenges.”

She turned her gaze to Mireille, and the only thing visible in the dark were her eyes which reflected the fire burning in the stove. “So, I was thinking, what do I have to do to become a person who could go far? I think my actions today are enough for an uncommon class-up at 15, but what about the next one after that?”

“So...” Mireille began, rolling the ladle around in the bucket. “You don’t want this fighting thing to be one-off. You want to keep at it. But really, is that the way of a [Maid]?”

“What do you think the purpose of a [Maid] is, Mireille?”

“Well, cooking and cleaning I suppose. Attending to the master’s needs, and organising practical matters.”

Fayette shook her head. “That is what a [Maid] generally ends up doing, but not really the purpose of it all. Why do they do those things? What is the objective?”

“I don’t think I’ve though about it like that.”

“I have,” Fayette said. “Even before today. A [Maid] is linked to a household, and her purpose is to make sure that household works as it should. Food, laundry, cleaning—those are things a household needs so that it can function. A [Maid] is someone who ensures that things at the household work as they should. Ensures that when things need to happen, there are no obstructions.”

Mireille threw some water on the stove and let the sentence hang as the steam sizzled forth. Eventually, she hummed thoughtfully. “I see where you’re going with that. Is that why you got class progress from the killing today? Your targets were ‘obstructing the proper working of a household’, as you would put it.”

The [Maid] nodded in agreement. She had been thinking on the matter after the fights were over, and she had come to the same conclusion. “So, if I want to progress with my [Maid] class properly, I’ll need to keep doing that, but will a normal household be enough? There's only so much you can do. So, here’s the thing I was thinking—”

She took a deep breath, and turned to Mireille. She held her hands out “What if—” She stretched her hands out to the sides, “—I were to take like a reaaally big household? I could be helping out everyone!”

She let the sentence hang, and the room fell into a long spell of silence. Eventually Mireille sighed. “Fay, are you sure you're right in the head? Did you take any hard hits?”

Fayette bristled back, folding her hands in. “What?”

“What do you even mean by everyone? Everyone you meet, the country, the world? Really? You alone? Shouldn’t you start off with something just a bit simpler? Something like, I don’t know, a village, a city or something like that? Honestly, even protecting a manor seemed to be quite the job.”

Mireille picked up the ladle and started twirling it around in the bucket, watching the waves it made in the water. “We are small people, and the Dual Monarchy is a big country. I get what you’re saying, but grand dreams are just that—grand dreams. Think about something more practical, once you walk out of this village, what are you actually going to do? You want to fix things, how can you do that? What's the first practical step?”

Fayette turned to look back at the fire. Something practical, huh? Well, I’ll need something that I can use to kill monsters at least, that’s the easiest thing to think of. After that... we'll see. Still, that really only leaves one choice then.

“I think... I’m going to try and join the hunter’s guild.”

Mireille audibly groaned. “Gah, I knew you were going to say that,” she said. “And I’m sure you will actually do it.”

Fayette blinked. “What, is there some issue with me becoming a hunter?”

“Not really, it’s just such a... you know? It’s what all the boys with some skill at arms think. Like, if there’s a list of things to do to go off on an adventure, that’s always the first step. Wohoo, let's join the guild!”

“What, you think its too cliché or something? You have a better idea?”

“It’s not that, it’s just— you’re doing it because you want to get lots of levels, right? You’re probably planning on rushing off without any further planning, aren’t you?”

Fayette threw some water on the stove and paused as she listened to the sizzling of the steam. “—Am I supposed to do something first?”

She heard a groan from beside her. Mireille began to rise up, but winced back down as she hit the hot steam near the ceiling. Grumbling, she prodded a finger at the [Maid].

“You! You’ve just found out that you can level by killing monsters and [Lords], but just how far does that go? Is your theory about the purpose of [Maids] correct? Does hunting wild rabbits count? What about bears, owlbears, anything else?” She prodded again. “Have you really planned out your combat options, practiced fighting at all? Have you formed a leveling plan? Classing for combat is not to be taken lightly. Will they even let you join the guild? You are a [Maid].”

“Test. Experiment. Practice.” Mireille accented each word with a poke to Fayette's cheek.

Fayette gulped. I really didn’t think about anything like that...

She decided to try out [Disarming Smile]. “Well, I managed fine with the kobolds, right?” She said, a proper [Maid's] smile on her face.

Mireille was not fooled, she knew Fayette too well for that. The [Seamstress] grimaced, and leaned back into the bench.

“Alright, tomorrow you are coming with me. You are going to be figuring this stuff out.”