Catgirls And Dungeons (Yuri)-Chapter 77: Generosity

"So, what are you guys doing for a living now?" Eris asks, "Will you join another guild here? Or…"

At first, Darron and Korum exchange a look of uncertainty.

Then, with a weary sigh, Korum—the silver-furred wolfman—speaks up. "Haiz… Darron will. He found a guild that'll take him on, but as for me…" He trails off, glancing at the stump where his left arm once was. A faint, bitter laugh escapes him. "In my current condition, no guild wants me. I'm basically a crippled E-rank adventurer, and all the local guilds rejected my application. By the end of the month, if I don't find something, I might have to go in alone…"

My eyes widen. "Wait, you're still planning to enter a dungeon despite… all this? That's too dangerous!"

He forces a short, humorless chuckle. "I know. But what else can I do? My wife and four kids need to eat."

"Isn't there another job you could do that doesn't risk your life?" I press, though a pang of worry gnaws at me.

Even as the words leave my mouth, I sense how futile they might be.

Korum just shakes his head. "Where? Who would hire me for any 'normal' job? All I've ever known is dungeon work, and now I'm missing an arm… that's not exactly an easy pitch to an employer."

A heaviness settles in my chest. The raw necessity in his voice cuts deeper than any blade. He has no choice. For his family's sake, he's ready to risk everything—arm or no arm.

I want to help…

But.. there's nothing I can do.

"Hey, don't worry," Darron, the black-furred wolfman, interjects gently. "I'll keep an eye on him. We'll stick to gathering or exploration quests for now—things that rely less on brute force. Sure, it won't pay as much, but it'll keep us alive."

"That sounds like a wise approach," Eris agrees, nodding thoughtfully. "By the way, are you two staying here at the Vanessa Outpost with your families?"

"For now, yes," Darron replies, leaning back against the bench. "But eventually, we're thinking about moving to Mistvale. If that doesn't work out, there's always Salam. It's smaller, cheaper, maybe a bit rough around the edges… but at least we can get our wives and kids settled somewhere safer."

"Right…" Eris murmurs.

And I agree too.

I can read the concern etched in her eyes.

Living at this outpost might be convenient for adventuring, but it offers little in the way of long-term security or stable resources—especially for families. The outpost is crowded with travelers, some helpful, others predatory. And with both men heading into the dungeons, who would stay behind to protect their loved ones?

Besides, there's only a limited variety of shops and services here. It lacks the essential things that a town like Mistvale can provide.

For example, education, and medical care.

My gaze slips over to Eris, and I tug lightly on her arm, silently hoping she might do something to help these two.

Yet, I hesitate.

After all, who am I to demand she fix every tragedy we stumble upon?

But before I can say anything, Eris has already reached into her pouch. Without a word, she pulls out a handful of gold coins.

"Here," she says quietly. "Take this."

The small mound of coins gleams beneath the torchlight, reflecting dappled patterns on the rough wooden bench. Korum and Darron stiffen visibly, shock etched plainly across their faces.

"W-what?" Korum stammers, his voice fraying with disbelief. "This is—this is too much!"

"Young lady, what are you doing?" Darron blurts, staring at the gold in Eris's outstretched hand. "We… we can't accept that!"

"Hey, it's fine," Eris insists, pressing the coins into Darron's trembling grip. "This might be nothing for me, but it'll help you both start a new life. Think of it as a little push in the right direction."

She stands up, gently nudging the coins toward Darron until he's forced to hold onto them. A warm breeze stirs the air, flickering the nearby torches and adding an almost gentle glow to Eris's determined expression.

"B-but…" Darron mutters, his words catching in his throat. "This is too generous."

"Yeah," Korum adds, his voice thick. "We really appreciate the thought, but you don't need to do this."

Eris clicks her tongue in mild exasperation.

"Like I said, don't worry about it. I can't stand by while people from my hometown are suffering. Please, just take it."

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She brightens her smile, but there's a resolve beneath it—a fierce kindness that leaves both wolfmen momentarily speechless.

Darron glances at the coins, his hand trembling, while Korum's eyes glisten with unshed tears.

"Judging by your gear," Eris continues, "I'm guessing you had to sell your better weapons and armor, right?"

"Y-yes," Korum admits, his voice wavering. "We sold them to afford a tent… and some food…"

Now that Eris mentions it, I notice how chipped Korum's sword actually is. Meanwhile, Darron carries only a small dagger at his belt, and both wear tattered, worn clothes—threadbare shirts and scuffed boots that have clearly seen better days.

"All right," Eris says firmly, "if you plan on heading back into a dungeon, at least buy proper weapons first, okay? And please," she urges, her voice softening, "try to find a place in Mistvale to settle down before you go. Don't force your wives and kids to stay out here unprotected."

At those words, both men's composure finally cracks. Their shoulders shake, tears spilling freely as they clutch the money, almost as though it's a lifeline. Korum sniffles, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand.

"T-thank you," he breathes. "We… we'll do our best, I promise. B-but are you sure about all this?"

Eris offers a reassuring nod. "Yes. And for the third time, you don't need to worry about me."

She takes a quick glance my way, then adds, "If you're still struggling to find a place to live once you reach Mistvale, go to the Gilded Horn. The owner is a friend of mine. Let him know I sent you. He might have work for you or your wife, something safer than dungeon-hunting."

"T-thank you," Darron echoes softly, his voice quavering with emotion. "Thanks to you, we… we can finally give our children a proper meal…"

Korum's eyes widen with new hope. "I had no idea there were such helpful people still around. Thank you so much."

A hint of a smile touches Eris's lips. "And by the way, The Gilded Horns owner was once a Zehrakian, too—an ex-member of Shadowfang, believe it or not."

"Really?" Korum and Darron exclaim in unison, trading astonished looks. "W-what's his name? If you don't mind me asking?"

"Gordon," Eris replies.

"What?! The ex–Twelfth Pillar, Gordon Ramssett?!" Korum blurts, eyes going wide.

Eris chuckles softly at their reaction. "Yup. Seems like you've heard of him."

At this revelation, Korum and Darron exchange another glance, their expressions brightening with renewed hope. Whatever burdens they carry, hearing Gordon's name clearly infuses them with a sense of possibility.

Meanwhile, tears bead at the corners of my eyes as I watch the scene unfold. My heart pounds, filled with both relief and admiration for Eris's generosity. No matter how many times I try to discreetly dab my face, my cheeks remain wet.

And so, for a little while longer, the four of us continue to talk, the conversation shifting toward their families—what their wives are like, how many children they have, and the little everyday struggles they face. The night air grows cooler, and the subtle glow from the outpost torches mingles with the quiet murmurs of other adventurers. Yet, in this small circle, warmth sparks anew.