Chapter Text
With a prompt like "Money Is The Best," Cale couldn’t help but feel a surge of joy at the thought of returning to his favorite pastime: spending as much money as possible. Ideally, the funds would come from his enemies—there was a satisfying thrill to redistributing their wealth straight into his own group. It was a habit he adored, honestly. But who would have thought he’d end up here? Spoiled, pampered, and utterly doted upon by his closest friends, and for a reason he hadn’t anticipated.
It had all started with a casual comment, one that let slip that his birthday had passed… a week ago. He’d thought nothing of it, really—another year, another day, nothing special. But apparently, his friends had different ideas. And what followed was a week that would leave Cale questioning his stance on wealth and camaraderie alike.
First, there was Alberu. Cale had barely finished explaining that he really didn't need another golden plaque commemorating his latest achievements—oh, he would love one, but not really when it is attached with expectations, of course, that much is elemental grade, really—-when Alberu had waved him off with an exasperated grin. “Golden plaques? I’d rather you see something more… memorable,” he’d said, and before Cale knew it, he, the kids, and his closest companions were on their way to the kingdom’s most exclusive amusement park—with VIP passes. It was hard to stay stoic while watching Raon, Hong, and On run around with eyes wide with excitement. They squealed with joy at every attraction, dragging Cale along, insisting he ride every coaster, visit every booth, try every treat. By the end of the day, he was exhausted, laughing despite himself, his usual grumbles drowned out by the sheer joy of his little family.
Then, there was Bud. The man’s arrival was less subtle. He had charged in one evening with barrels upon barrels of the finest wines from his homeland. “A celebration for my dear friend’s ‘belated’ birthday,” he’d announced with a grin, tossing an arm around Cale. That night, everyone gathered, and Cale, who’d never admit he was looking forward to it, ended up savoring wine of such quality that even he had to appreciate it. As Bud regaled them with outlandish stories of wine-tasting escapades back home, Cale found himself savoring not just the wine but the shared laughter, the warmth of the gathering.
On the third day, Eric dragged him off to a massive bookshop—no, the biggest bookshop in the Western continent. “Pick whatever you want,” Eric had said, eyes gleaming with the excitement of an avid reader. Cale couldn’t resist and found himself roaming the shelves for hours, stacking volumes in his arms with an eagerness he hadn’t felt in ages. Eric was right beside him, offering recommendations, discussing obscure tomes, and somehow convincing Cale to buy far more books than he’d ever admit to needing. By the end of the day, he was weighed down with knowledge and more curious about half the books than he’d been since childhood.
The next day, Eruhaben had handed him a small box, wrapped in delicate, shimmering fabric. Inside, nestled in velvet, lay a finely crafted magical amulet, its center stone glittering with barely contained power. Eruhaben had waved away Cale’s attempt at thanks with a proud, almost grandfatherly expression. “Think of it as a way to keep you alive a little longer,” he said, his voice gruff but his eyes soft. Cale could feel the enchantment’s warmth radiate even through the box, and something about it left him almost… speechless.
And finally, Raon and the kids. They had been gathering little treasures for years, bits and pieces from their adventures, shiny coins, odd trinkets, gems they’d somehow squirreled away. They poured all of it out at his feet, showering him with the spoils of their journeys. Raon in particular, his eyes bright with love and pride, practically tackled Cale with a hug. “Human, you’ve given us so much,” he said, his voice trembling slightly, “so we wanted to give back to you, even if it’s just… little things.”
By the end of the week, Cale was utterly spent, his heart swelling with a mix of confusion, gratitude, and… maybe something a little warmer despite the exhaustion.
After all, those were not the only ones. No. Those in mention was simply the few people who, along with their gifts, it cost him his time in return. whether it was from the lengthy explanation or just the experience itself is the gift.
Now, if he talked about gifts that doesn’t consummate his time… well…
Royalties from all over the western continent—Rosalyn, of course, but also Prince Valentino, and even a delegation from some smaller neighboring kingdoms—had joined in. Rosalyn had grinned as she handed over an elegant spellbound robe, crafted from materials only high sorcery could procure. Valentino, in his usual grandiose style, had gifted a personalized set of weaponry that practically oozed wealth, from its gold inlay to the intricate craftsmanship.
But that wasn’t even the strangest part. Somehow, word had spread even beyond the western continent. Fredo, the vampire lord from the eastern lands, made an appearance with a sly smile and a suspiciously full set of chests, each containing rare relics imbued with dark enchantments. Princess Jopis, another royal from the eastern lands, had sent a small army of attendants with luxurious gifts that must have been crafted by the most skilled artisans in her kingdom—jewels, finely woven garments, and strange eastern trinkets. Cale wasn’t even sure how these people had caught wind of his belated birthday, let alone this impromptu ‘mini-event’ in his honor.
And yet, none of that could compare to the combined force of Deruth and Clopeh. His father had arrived with such an assortment of valuable heirlooms, coins, and finely wrought objects that Cale had nearly choked at the sight. As always, Deruth seemed genuinely thrilled, doting over him with an almost embarrassing pride that, well, might have softened Cale’s heart a bit—if he weren’t already dizzy from the sheer volume of gifts.
Clopeh, however, was a different beast altogether.
Ever enthusiastic, Clopeh presented his contributions with an almost frightening intensity, claiming each item was chosen to ‘honor the legacy of the Hero who walks among us.’ One gift after another—a coat of armor with intricate runes, an ancient battle ax rumored to have once been wielded by a legendary knight, and a near-endless stack of detailed records chronicling Cale’s life and feats. Clopeh even went so far as to suggest an exhibition in Cale’s honor, describing it with such fervor that Cale had to practically beg him to stop.
By this point, as much as Cale loved riches, the entire spectacle had grown overwhelming. He barely knew where to store half of it, let alone how to thank everyone. This sheer excess, the wealth that spilled around him, was almost… dizzying.
And yes, he’d pretty much skipping the whole chapter—-the entire ordeal—with the dragons… including Sheritt’s . Their gifts had been as extravagant as they were unnecessary, layered in magic and grandeur that left Cale wondering what he’d ever done to “deserve” this.
Funny enough, though, it was Rasheel who turned out to be the most practical of the lot. He’d presented Cale with a pillow enchanted to stay cool forever, no matter how warm or uncomfortable the surroundings might get. Simple, sure. But after the wave of jewels, cloaks, and elaborate charms, the pillow felt like a small, refreshing mercy.
Truly, he found himself looking at the wealth surrounding him—the lavish gifts, the rare items, the sheer abundance of treasure. And while he still loved the idea of using money, especially when it was someone else’s, he couldn’t deny that these gestures.
"How... amusing, really." How in the world this scenario managed to last a full week was beyond him… but it had, and frankly, he couldn’t be more relieved that the "celebration" was finally, finally over.
As for the gifts and "good wishes" from the gods and goddesses? Untouched. Nope . He wasn't about to deal with those—his parallel self could handle them later.
With lasting sigh, he glanced around at the familiar faces of his friends and allies, each one looking at him with warmth— and perhaps just a hint of amusement at his bewilderment— he couldn’t help but feel a strange, unexpected sense of fullness.
Money was still the best, he decided with a grin. But maybe, just maybe, the camaraderie that came with these gifts—even if just for a single, intense week—was a close second.