FFF-Tier System, SSS-Rank Wife

"Were you serious, back then?" Saintess asked pretty much as soon as we left the smithy.

Even though it wasn't all that late into the day yet, we still had to find an inn to stay the night at, then go to the local market to get me some basic equipment so that I wouldn't stand out like a sore thumb…

There were a lot of things to be done.

And testing my theory was merely one of them.

"It all depends on the test," I claimed, refusing to go any deeper into the topic.

Because what would be the point in bragging all about how I knew the method to create a charcoal, a worthy and cheap substitution for coal, when I had no idea if methods from Earth worked in this world?

'Given how easy it is to discover, especially by someone working in a smithy for their entire life, there has to be a reason why they are not making it themselves yet.'

After confirming that Greg never heard about something as simple as charcoal, I was the one who pushed for us leaving the smithy. I knew all too well how there was nothing that I could do or say to increase the dwarf's interest in what I could bring to him more than just by leaving.

In this way, after dangling the bait before his eyes, I quasi-forced him to imagine a scenario where coal would turn from this extremely expensive, rare, and hard-to-get treasure that he had to ration into something cheap, easily accessible, and available in nearly unlimited quantity.

Sure, there were drawbacks to this plan, just like the possibility that my methods of creating charcoal wouldn't work in this world, but…

Just in case it worked, it was best to build some anticipation first.

Worst-case scenario, I could simply avoid Greg's smithy for the rest of my life, couldn't I?

"That test will have to wait, though," Saintess pointed out while locking her hands over her chest. "If anything, visiting a botanist should come first…" she insisted, only to earn my tired glance in response.

Sure, visiting someone potentially capable enough to create the right environment for coffee cultivation would be great.

Or it would be great if not for something she already mentioned—how the person she had in mind charged noble rates rather than rates an average adventurer could afford. And while I could rely on Saintess to earn the money necessary to pay said botanist off…

How could I expect any profits from such a business endeavor if I provided nothing beyond the seeds themselves?

"As much as I would like to rush in and start cultivating coffee right away, it all has to happen in the right order," I shook my head. "Then, there's also the option of finding new ways to prepare the food you already have in this world…" I mused under my nose, already considering the possibilities ahead.

It wasn't like this world didn't have the means to create sweets. It wasn't like it lacked herbs that could be turned into brews either.

Heck!

From what little I saw up to now, there could actually be a lot more tasty ingredients in this world than there were back on Earth! And all that I needed to finally give them a chance… was to create an industry capable of properly processing them and then find experimental cooks willing to spend the rest of their days mixing various ingredients in search of new, great tastes for Saintess to enjoy.

'In other words, I'm still a long way off from achieving anything.'

I breathed out a long sigh, trying not to let my thoughts appear on my face.

With the Saintess generously allowing me to tag along to keep my ass safe, I felt like I had no right to burden her even further with my own worries.

'Which is why I need to start making money and I need to do it fast!' I thought, clenching my hands as I started to play around with potential designs of a charcoal kiln in my head.

I had no tools, no expertise, and not that much money to burn on failed attempts. Time was an issue too, given how Saintess' protection wouldn't stretch into infinity.

All of which meant I had to hurry. And hurry as much as I could, so that I could buy myself proper protection before Saintess' patience with me would wear thin.

"Hey, stop!"

Only when Selia called for me did I realize that—with my head stuck in the imaginary world of designs—I'd failed to realize she herself had stopped at the doorstep of what could only be an inn.

With a huge signboard with a caricature of a rabbit hanging by the doors and the windows brimming from the light contained inside and the quadruple the size of the smithy, what else could that building be if not an inn?

"Ah, sorry," I lowered my head in apology, "I got lost in my thoughts."

"You need to learn how to be careful," Selia shook her head while giving me a quick lecture. "How do you expect to survive if you can't even keep track of your surroundings?"

My first instinct would be to refute. After all, if anyone was out to harm me, what good being aware of my surroundings would do?

Ultimately, though, I opted not to say a thing.

Just like that spatial awareness Selia just mentioned, refuting her would bring me absolutely no benefit whatsoever.

As such, I simply followed her into the inn in silence, opting to listen to her words and happily paying all the attention I could afford to the inn's insides.

And what a sight it was!

Groups of people gathered on the long benches, talking, drinking, and even singing whenever they were, caring not for the noise they were making as they spent their hard-earned money to relax and enjoy their evening.

Saintess, however, didn't stop at any of the long benches nor did she approach the bar's counter that also served as a place from where the few waitresses grabbed the meals to bring them over to the tables. Instead, she moved directly to the main counter by the stairs only to then lean over it and tap her knuckles against the wood a few times.

A short moment later, a petite-looking girl came out rushing, almost tangling herself in the cloth that served as a door between the counter space and the inn's backside behind it.

"Yes! How may I help, ma'am?!" the girl called out with the great enthusiasm of a kid that just managed to evade her parent's attention and go on to pretend like she was working at their job.

The moment the girl laid her sights on the Saintess, though, her eyes went wide while her mouth turned the shape of an upturned horseshoe.

"SISTER SELIA!" she cried out from the bottom of her lungs, climbing up to the top of the counter only to then throw herself forth and land right in Saintess' slightly awkward embrace.

"Oh my, oh my," a moment later, a sizeable woman came out charging from behind the cloth-door, instantly adopting a look of deep concern as she saw her kid all over the Saintess. "My deepest apologies, o holy one," she bowed deep enough to have her forehead literally smash against the counter… And then stayed bowed down, as if it was a crime for someone like her to look up and lay her filthy, unworthy eyes upon the divine face of the Saintess.

"Sister Selia!" The girl completely ignored her mother and her concerns, snuggling up with a giggle to Selia's neck instead. "What brings you here today?" she asked once she finally put her tiny hands on the Saintess' shoulders and leaned back to look at Selia's face.

Selia, unable to hide away her own small smile, replied, "I'm going to need a room for the night. Do you have any spare ones?"

'A room?' I thought, shaking myself free from the adorably confusing situation as I near-instantly noticed a plethora of problems that came with the wording Selia used and the implication behind her words.

"Saintess, if I may…" the girl's mother muttered as she found enough courage to shyly peek out from behind the counter, "just one room?"

For a moment, Saintess' face froze as the implications of her own words finally got to her.

Yet, rather than backtracking on it, she steeled her face and looked straight back into the innkeeper's plump face.

"That's right," she said, shaking her head up and down while switching her hold over the girl to bring her down onto her hip instead, "one room, double bed."