Overlord and the Seraphim

『Fulfilled』

A day later the man known as Jack Graham appeared at the front of the Jet's family household. His eyes were narrowed and his pace was swift. Within moments he had the back of his hand, knocking on the door in a neat classical rhythm of three.

His stoic expression dominated his face, his eyes glaring at the weak wooden structure.

That was until it slowly creaked open, his eyes drifted down towards a shorter man. It was the friend of Arche's. That was for sure. His silky pale skin and his bagged eyes, there was no mistaking him for anyone else.

Then the door opened all the way, air brushing across his face.

"Ah, it's just you..." Jet spoke in a dry and dull tone, he wasn't ecstatic to see the man, though he did want his mother cured after all. The contract had been signed and he was going to be forced to work with him.

"I'm here to deliver on my side of the contract, as I promised." It was a simple, straight to the point, statement. Jack didn't seem to find the need to sound all that colorful.

"Come on in."

As the young man stepped aside, Jack waltzed on into the house as if he owned the place. His hands folded behind his back. The place wasn't necessarily the best, but it was moderately comfortable for a low class home, but it had definitely seen better days.

The floor wasn't made of expensive or extravagant material. Hand picked stone slabs it seems, from a quarry, decorated the ground. A wooden floor would definitely rot or rise, considering the home was at the bottom of the hill.

He'd probably have a better time living in a village, rather than the city, much more affordable and likely less problems with the nobility as he likely viewed them negatively. Especially nobles that were like Arche's parents. Just about anyone can start hating an entire social class because of those two self-absorbed knuckleheads.

"Right this way," Jet cleared his throat as he closed the front door, watching each step Jack made. Don't get him wrong, he was thankful for this opportunity, in a way he saw this man as generous.

His offers were just strangely too good to be true despite how miraculous he was.

The two would enter a delicate looking room with an elevated floor.

Dresser, cracked mirror, cheap makeshift mattress and plenty of patchwork blankets. There was plenty here to see, plenty of things that gave away their way of life.

They weren't rich, they weren't wealthy, but they were independent and lived in the city and owned a home which was a lot to say the least.

Jack's gaze rested on the woman who was bundled tightly in the bed. A damp cloth on her head and an even sicker appearance than her son. She was so pale, that the bags under her eyes were darker than that of coals. They were almost brown and the whites of her eyes were tainted in yellow.

Was it Kidney failure? Jack couldn't quite tell. Slowly he went to take a step forward, but not out of caution, just to observe.

"H-hello...?" A small voice faded in from the female upon the bed. "Jet, is that you...?"

"Mom, I'm here. I've brought someone who can help you," Jet walked up to the bed, taking his mother's hand. A pained smile across his lips.

"W-whut?" A look of surprise on her face, but not a happy one, more of a concerned look in her eyes. As if she knew he had sacrificed something in order to help her, something more than just his time making and selling spices.

"It's okay mom. I just have to work for him and you'll be alright."

Jack walked over towards where Jet stood beside the bed and looked over the woman for a spare few seconds before sighing.