Grimm: Ch. 22

---Grimm's POV---

I rested my chin on my hand, gazing at the castle.

"Do you like castles that much?"

"Mm-hmm!"

I had never seen her so happy before. As long as she was happy, that was ok, I guess.

Gazing at the dazzling castle against the night sky, I remembered how awestruck I had been the first time I saw it, feeling just as she did now.

"Grimm, do you want to hear about my dream?"

"Who doesn't! What's your dream?"

"My dream is… to have a castle of my own! No! I want to build a kingdom of my own!"

"Pfft! Hahaha!"

I couldn't help but burst into laughter as I watched her serious expression. Seeing the castle had immediately sparked such an ambitious dream—how remarkable.

"What's so funny?"

"Hahaha, nothing, nothing. Go on, hahaha…" I couldn't stop laughing; for some reason, I found her earnestness incredibly endearing.

"You jerk! You're so annoying!" Gera raised her tiny fist and punched me.

"Hahaha…"

"Okay, okay, I won't laugh anymore!" I grinned as I dodged her punches.

"Take this, you jerk!"

---

"Phew, phew…"

We lay on the castle wall, catching our breath, gazing up at the stars and moon with contented expressions.

"Ugh!"

"Hehe…" Gera, still feeling competitive, took advantage of my moment of inattention to land a playful punch on my stomach. Then she flopped onto the ground, laughing.

I rubbed my aching stomach. Seeing how much fun she was having, I stayed sprawled out, listening to her laughter with a smile.

The two of them... they loved hitting people's stomachs, didn't they? Still, she was far gentler than Kadi.

I had crouched down and let her vent her energy on me, knowing full well my sturdy body could take it. It was like being tickled. Perhaps finding it boring that I didn't fight back, she soon gave up, flopping onto the ground and declaring it tiresome.

After giving me a good thrashing, her spirits were completely lifted. She breathed in the cool air from the high wall, feeling utterly refreshed.

"No matter what you think, I'm definitely going to have a castle of my own!" Gera clasped her hands behind her head, squinting confidently.

"Alright. If you love that castle so much, I'll do my best to help you and..."

I mimicked her posture, gazing up at the stars. Then, I reached out with my right hand, taking her left hand in mine.

"This is for you," I said.

I placed a ring in Gera's left palm.

The golden ring appeared finely crafted, with patterns resembling dried blood etched across its surface. On the inside, a streak of red bore my own name.

"What is this? This…" Gera had never seen such exquisite craftsmanship. This ring must be incredibly valuable—she couldn't possibly accept something so precious.

"Take it. It's from him. Another war is about to start, and we might not be back for a long time," I said casually, noticing her hesitation as I mentioned the impending campaign.

"You're… going to the battlefield?"

"Yes. He fears he might not come back, but I'll make sure he does," I replied lightly.

After all, I wasn't too worried—the system granted me immunity to physical death. Still, life was unpredictable. While magic hadn't yet come into play, who could say for sure? Perhaps cannon fire wouldn't be considered "physical damage" by it. Even if I didn't die, being left maimed and forced to scrape by sounded equally dull.

"Don't talk like that! You guys to come back. And you promised to help me get my castle and kingdom!" Gera exclaimed, suddenly angry. 

"Hehe, that's why he needs you to hold onto it—so he has a reason to hurry back," I said, sitting up and placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Hmph. Fine, I'll reluctantly hold onto it for you guys." She crossed her arms, pretending to grudgingly accept the task, and fastened the ring's chain around her wrist.

"Well, it's about time to go back," I said.

"Alright."

Gera cast one last glance at the castle.

---Third POV---

On the way back, Gerald kept thinking about everything that had happened earlier, feeling quite cheerful. Before realizing it, he had already arrived at his own backyard, where the atmosphere was lively.

Watching Grimm once again climb onto his rooftop and so quickly find the low eaves that made it easy to get up, Gerald was speechless.

He really wanted to ask Grimm if he often sneaked onto his house.

The crowd below was still moving about. It seemed best to wait a little while before coming down, lest he be mistaken for a thief.

Gerald stared blankly at the ring on his wrist.

The craftsmanship was really astonishingly intricate. As he looked at the string of English letters engraved on the inside, he unconsciously read them out loud.

"Grimm Baligat…"

To his amazement, as he called out the name, the reddish-brown patterns on the ring seemed to come alive, glowing with a bright crimson hue. Upon closer inspection, it even looked as if blood was flowing through them.

"Huh?!"

Gerald was astonished. There had been too many strange occurrences today—first, the fortune-telling old lady, then the amulet that opened its eyes, and now this ring.

Grimm was also taken aback. The totem on his chest seemed to respond, radiating a slight warmth.

"This must be something very important, right? Was it left to you by your parents?" Gerald curiously held up the ring and asked.

"Yes, you're right," Grimm replied, holding the ring in his hand. This ring couldn't be stored away in spatial magic, and its purpose was unknown. So, not knowing where to put it, he gifted it Bernhardt for being a loyal subordinate.

But seeing the strange reaction now, the ring was clearly extraordinary and seemed capable of protection. As long as Gerald called for him, Grimm would sense it.

"Is that so? I've never heard of such a surname in Midor…" Gerald mused. In any case, it didn't seem to belong to any noble family he'd ever heard of.

"Let's go. There's no one left down there; we should climb down," Grimm said, cutting off the topic as he noticed the area below was now deserted. After all, finding that surname on the entire continent would be quite unusual.

"Alright!"

---

The two of them sneakily climbed down from the rooftop and returned to the backyard. When Gerald finally reached his own door, he breathed a sigh of relief, hands on his hips, looking rather proud.

What an exciting adventure!

"Thank you. I had so much fun tonight!" For the first time, he seriously sized up Grimm. Not bad—this kind of companion was incredible.

He smiled.

Grimm responded with a knowing grin. He broke the chain attached to the ring, casually took Gerald's left hand, and slipped the ring onto his middle finger.

"What's this for?" Gerald was baffled by Grimm's sudden action. Couldn't he just leave it with him for safekeeping? Why put it on?

Grimm didn't answer.

"This ring… is for my friend's future wife, of course. When he grows up, He is definitely going to marry you, Gera."

He then left Gerald standing there in a daze, his entire body tingling as if struck by lightning. Goosebumps ran from head to toe.

What… future wife? Marry me?

His brain froze, and it took a long while after Grimm had disappeared before he snapped out of it.

"????????"

"I'm not even a girl, for crying out loud!!!!"

---Grimm's POV---

I was somewhere in a grassy field in Bacarat. The sensation of the sun hitting my rear end was rather peculiar.

By the time I returned to the world of Alland, who knew how much time had passed?

The sun was already close to setting. It seemed I had slept for quite a while. Rummaging through my spatial inventory, I grabbed whatever clothing was available. All that was left was a tattered short robe with sleeves—my old, wrinkled clothes had been burned, and the ones from even earlier were now far too small to wear.

It seemed like it was time to gather some thread and fabric to make new clothes here.

Over the past few days, I had figured out how this strange connection between worlds operated. The game I played had somehow become a gateway—for every day that passed in there, I could spend one day in Alland, the very real world behind the game.

It was as if the game's world had come alive, with real people, real consequences, and real adventures.

If nothing significant happened in Alland, I would find myself back in what appeared to be my tiny rental room.

It was an exact replica of my old room, down to the coffee stains on the desk and the cracked corner of the window. The familiar smell of instant noodles and the gentle sound of my PC made it feel just like home.

But I learned the hard way that this wasn't truly my world—I once tried to step beyond the door of my flat, curious to explore and see the strange things outside.

But the moment I crossed the threshold, everything went pitch black. My heart felt squeezed by invisible hands, each breath a fight to get in. My lungs burned like I was drowning in freezing water. I somehow made it back to my room, shaking and gulping for air.

After that terrifying experience, I never attempted to leave the room again.

Most of the time, I didn't linger in Alland too long since events didn't happen every day. Once the day's tasks were completed, I would be forcibly logged out, returning to my confined space to continue playing the game on my PC.

Sometimes, I'd save up several days' worth of events to tackle them all at once, making my time in that world more meaningful. It was a strange existence, straddling two realities—one bound by the walls of my room, the other limitless in its adventures, and the third... the world of Akatosh. 

So which is the main reality?

Shaking my head, I looked at the items in the Mystic Shop, it was clear that the products displayed were based on my Inventory Management skill.

With only 3 points in this skill, the shop currently had six items for sale. The first two slots displayed extremely rare or luxurious items, usually priced in the tens of thousands. The middle two slots offered more ordinary armor and weapons, priced in the range of a few thousand denars.

And the last two slots were for food and miscellaneous goods, and the shop only refreshed its inventory once a month.

This time, the shop was selling Tear of the Dragon, an elven horse, a sleeveless plate armor, sky-blue armguards, and, finally, a bag of salt and some apples.

No matter how high my Trade skill was, the prices here were fixed, so I could only hope to find high-profit items to sell elsewhere. After all, space in the shop was limited, and the inventory remained consistent.

If I could somehow snag some premium spices or velvet silk, I could sell them for an enormous fortune.

That said, the system-provided items were absurd.

For example, a 50-kilogram bag of salt cost only 280 denars. Selling it in Weimar would make me rich instantly.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the time to focus on trading.

I begrudgingly bought a coarse robe to wear for the time being.

Who would've thought that even this somewhat presentable piece of clothing would cost 100 denars? It was outrageously overpriced.

In hindsight, I should've kept some of the clothes I sold off earlier. At least the items stored in the system inventory always fit me perfectly when I put them back on.

Still, I couldn't entirely blame Bacarat for these sky-high prices. After all, with so many people at war, the scarcity wasn't in money—it was in manpower.