Chapter 13: Setting Off

The twenty knights who accompanied the feudal lord helped the hunters carry the three great boars back to the village. The rest of the villagers buzzed in excitement, murmurs of “They killed three again today” spreading like wildfire. Everyone surged out to take part in the butchering. Even though the hunting party returned before 3 p.m., it was still likely to last until after sunset.

In the meantime, Rodin, Gerda, and Allen all found themselves summoned to the village chief’s house.

Rodin and Gerda were feeling greatly relieved from having successfully demonstrated to the feudal lord what their hunting party was capable of. Now there was no need to worry about the current villagers losing portions of their land to newcomers transplanted from other settlements. Rodin was not worried about himself—he had made significant contributions and commanded enough influence that he knew his land would not be repossessed. Instead, he had been worried for the families who could not afford to send any of their members to participate in the hunts.

When the group of three walked into the village chief’s house, they were told that the feudal lord was already waiting for them in the hall. They were allowed to pass straight through without even stopping to clean up, despite wearing hemp outfits stained with sweat and great boar blood. They complied and made their way over, finding Deboji waiting before the door. Together, the group of four walked into the room.

The tables had been cleared away and the feudal lord was sitting in a seat at the far end. The seat next to his was occupied by his daughter, Cecil. The butler, knight captain, and knight vice-captain stood lined up against the wall to their side.

After proceeding to the center of the room, the four stopped in a row, then kneeled with their heads bowed. Only then did the feudal lord open his mouth.

“First, Deboji. You have done well in overseeing this village’s development. Fifteen years have passed since the Land Reclamation Decree was issued. Many other fiefdoms have failed in their efforts to establish frontier villages, but Krena Village is an example of success unmatched by any other. Your stewardship is truly commendable, and you have my heartfelt thanks.” The feudal lord was repeating what he had said at last night’s feast. This village had turned out this way because Deboji had been at its helm. This was why the feudal lord started by praising him.

“Th-Thank you for your words of praise, milord.” Deboji lowered his head even further to express his gratitude.

“Next. Rodin, Gerda.”

“Yes, m’lord.”

“Yes, m’lord.”

“I have witnessed your great boar hunt with my own eyes. It was a remarkable sight indeed, one beyond description. To you, too, I give you my thanks as your lord.”

Although Lord Granvelle’s eyes were as sharp as ever, his voice was warm and genuine. Rodin and Gerda also lowered their heads deeply in response to the recognition they received.

“If I do nothing to reward such exemplary achievements, it would reflect badly on me as lord of this realm. Why, I would be shirking my duties.”

Here we go! It’s time for the quest rewards! Don’t give us money, we don’t need it! Make us commoners instead! Pretty please with a cherry on top! Allen focused all his attention to his ears even as his head remained bowed.

“Rodin and Gerda, you, as well as your wives and children, are commoners as of today. Fulfill your respective duties in your new capacity.”

Both men bowed once more and said in unison, “Thank you, m’lord.”

HELL YEAHHHH! I’m now a commoner! What should I do?! I have the right to go hunting outside the village whenever I want now! How ’bout I start with taking down the white dragon in the White Dragon Mountains?!

It took Allen all of his willpower not to start drooling. The dream he had been nursing for eight long years was finally about to come true. The corners of his mouth naturally curled upward in a grin.

After that, the feudal lord also granted commoner status to all the hunters who had been in the hunting party for over ten years, as well as their wives and children. He also promised that when the currently single hunters married, the same would be conferred on their spouses. In this way, everyone who had been hunting the great boars for over a decade finally received the recognition and reward due to them.

The feudal lord said to the village chief, “Make sure to check with each and every one of these men whether they wish to become a commoner or to remain a serf. Being a commoner comes with its own obligations, so this is voluntary. Report back to me afterward.”

Unlike serfs, commoners were subject to a head tax. The larger a family was, the more they would have to pay in taxes every year. As such, the feudal lord was giving everyone who qualified a choice.

“And with that, I have now fulfilled my duties as lord of this domain.”

Ensuring that his people could fulfill the royal decree of hunting twenty great boars was his duty. Now that he had done so, he could return home with peace of mind.

However, just as it seemed like the audience was wrapping up, the butler interjected, “Master, permission to speak?”

“Granted.”

“His Majesty also wished to know what prompted these men to start hunting great boars in the first place.”

“Hm? Oh, right! So he did. Thank you for the reminder, Sebas.”

What’s this now?

As the butler slightly nodded with his eyes closed, a look of puzzlement came over Rodin’s face. The feudal lord turned back to him.

“Apologies. This is not an official royal decree, but there is something that His Majesty wanted me to ask you on his behalf. Rodin—no, Boar Hunter Rodin.”

“Y-Yes, m’lord?”

“His Majesty was curious about what originally gave you the idea to hunt great boars.”

The Land Reclamation Decree had gone out to all fiefdoms in the kingdom. Amongst all the frontier villages nobles had struggled to establish, not only did Krena Village take hold, it had managed to produce a consistent supply of boar meat. Consequently, the king held it up as an example that the other nobles were to emulate. For the sake of the other nobles’ reference, he wanted to hear the full story of how the hunts started.

“The story...of how we started...” Rodin’s face clouded over. Silence filled the room as he visibly struggled to get his words out.

“Hm? What’s the matter?” the feudal lord asked, confused by Rodin holding his tongue on what was supposedly a tale of his own exploits, something that most men would leap at the opportunity to recount.

Just as he was about to press Rodin for a reason, Gerda interrupted. “I am very sorry, m’lord, but this story would be difficult for Rodin to tell. May I do so in his place?”

Speaking of which, I’ve never heard it myself either.

Rodin’s face darkened even more, but he did not speak up to stop Gerda. When the feudal lord nodded to indicate his permission, Gerda began.

“When we first arrived in this land, it was the start of spring. There were a hundred of us serfs. This was, uh...thirteen years ago.”

Founding a village meant creating it from nothing. This was, naturally, extremely time-consuming. It would be difficult to make any progress in winter with snow covering everything, so it made sense to start right after the snow from the previous winter had finished melting away.

The feudal lord had decided on the location where to found the village and conveyed this through an envoy. At the time, it was an area sparsely covered with trees all around, roughly a two days’ walk from the previous village. The settlers had to start with chopping those trees down and pulling their roots up when they first arrived.

Rodin’s eyes were closed tightly and his clenched fists were trembling as Gerda continued, speaking clumsily in his best effort at being respectful.

“By the time we finished clearing away all the trees, it was autumn. And then...”

Then disaster had struck. There was no way the serfs, who had never left their old village before, could have foreseen it. Nor could the commoners who relocated with them, for that matter. Their original village was two days’ away, after all, which was quite the distance.

“The wheat and potatoes that we had brought along to survive the winter got ransacked by great boars.”

Whenever autumn arrived, the forest surrounding the new village would receive a sudden influx of great boars. None of the founding villagers had known of this beforehand, and so they ended up learning the hard way. They had set up a fence to keep monsters away, but it was far from enough to stop beasts that weigh a tonne each. Gerda described how half of the food in their stores was eaten or destroyed.

The feudal lord’s brows drew together in a frown as what he had expected to be a heroic saga took a dark turn.

“So we got together to discuss what to do. Some folks wanted to return to our old village.”

They could have brought all their remaining food and walked the two-day journey back to their previous village. Then, once spring returned, they could have come back and resumed the reclamation work.

“However, many of us serfs had come to settle this village because we had no way of feeding ourselves back home. Even if we were to have gone back, no one would’ve welcomed us.”

The residents of the former village had scraped together enough food to tide the pioneers through winter with the understanding that they would never come back. If they did return, not only would they not have been welcome, they probably would not have received any food or provisions either.

“As it turned out, the large majority of us could not return.”

“I see.” The feudal lord shot a look at Deboji, who bowed his head, looking decidedly uncomfortable. The village chief was aware this had happened, but never reported it up the chain of command.

“That was when Rodin said, ‘Let’s kill the boars and eat them to survive the winter.’”

His actions had fit the term “champion” to a tee, according to Gerda. He had unified the men and led them into the forest with hoes, spades, pickaxes, and everything else imaginable in hand. It was not just the twenty men who had made up the hunting party up until recently—no, at that time there were more than forty of them. That was, in fact, virtually every one of the village’s menfolk.

There had not been any strategy back then—the three-team method was not developed until later. Luckily, the group had happened upon a solitary great boar by chance. They had hacked at it in sheer desperation until, out of sheer luck, someone’s pickax pierced the beast’s jugular. If it had not been for an almost miraculous chain of coincidences, the group could have just as easily been wiped out completely.

“And that was how you hunted the very first great boar?” Lord Granvelle asked. “That is a remarkable story. Why then do you not boast of it, Rodin? Judging by your boy’s face, it is clear to me that this is his first time hearing it.”

“I...I am sorry, m’lord. It’s just...I lost my friend during that hunt...” Rodin stammered.

It had been a dangerous hunt, one that was frantic. Many had ended up severely injured; several others died. Even so, the remaining hunters desperately had continued the hunt. When the beast died, there was a chance for everyone who had participated to overcome a Trial of the Gods. The reward for doing so was a new lease on life in the form of healing from all current injuries.

“And sure enough, all of us overcame a Trial of the Gods, and our wounds disappeared,” Rodin struggled to explain. “However, a close friend of mine...did not manage to hold on long enough.”

His friend had died before the final blow landed.

“Even though the hunt was something that all of us decided together, Rodin still feels responsible for what happened. I’ve been telling him all this time that it’s not his burden to bear, but he won’t listen,” Gerda said before continuing his account.

When the group of hunters had returned to the village, they then shared the meat with everyone equally, making no distinction between hunters and non-hunters. Thanks to this, the village had managed to survive its first winter. But, after seeing the number of casualties and the severity of people’s injuries, fewer men chose to participate in hunts after that, decreasing the size of their party to only half their original number—down to just twenty or so.

“And that’s the full story of our first great boar hunt.”

I see, so father saw his friend in that commoner.

While listening to their account, Allen thought back to the incident two years ago, when Rodin had returned home bearing a life-threatening injury. He had thrown himself in harm’s way to protect a teenage commoner. He—as well as his late friend—had also been but fifteen years old during their first hunt. Perhaps that was why, despite having a family at home waiting for him, he still ended up prioritizing the boy’s life over his own. Or maybe his body moved instinctively.

Rodin remained quiet, his head bowed. He was propping himself up with his hands, but his arms trembled as he struggled with the flood of memories playing in his mind.

“I...apologize for prying.”

“No, it’s...it’s fine, m’lord.”

Silence filled the room.

“That...is truly not a tale to spread around,” Lord Granvelle said after some thought. “I will work out what to tell His Majesty. And... Hmm...”

Once again, he fell into silence. This time, it was the butler who spoke up. “What is it you are thinking, Master?”

“Sebas, this changes things. My eyes tell me that this man, Rodin, is not lying. And if that is the case, it means he is the one who saved this village.”

“Yes, Master. That would be the case.”

The feudal lord turned back toward those kneeling before him. “Rodin, I shall grant you one more reward.”

“One...more reward, m’lord?”

The feudal lord had already granted Rodin and his entire family commoner status, something that would have normally cost them fifty gold coins. Mention of another reward on top of it left Rodin flustered.

“As I said, it is my job as lord of this fiefdom to ensure that those who contribute are rewarded accordingly. Name anything you desire.”

“A-Anything, m’lord?”

“So, there is something you want. Try saying it out loud.”

A reward? For father? I wonder what he would ask for. The only thing that comes to mind is wine, though.

“I-In that case, I have a request, m’lord,” Rodin said, lowering his head. “Please let my son here work in your house.”

Wait, what?

“Hmm?”

“Unlike me, Allen is smart. I am sure he would be of great help to you, m’lord.”

“Interesting. You want to send your son to enter the service of a baron?”

Hold on, father! That’s not it! Don’t go there! I really, reeeally don’t like where this is going!

Panic was painted all over Allen’s face, but Rodin failed to notice it. “Yes, m’lord. Please use him as a houseboy or however else you see fit. I beg of you, please allow him to work for you!”

Seeing the look his master was sending his way, the butler replied, “I have no objections. It seems clear to me that the child is indeed bright and intelligent.”

Standing beside him, the knight captain also nodded approvingly.

What?! Why isn’t anyone stopping this?! My ideal dream of going hunting every day is getting further and further away from me! Think, Allen! Think!

More than anything else, Allen loved hunting, and he loved leveling up. Working at the feudal lord’s place was on the extreme opposite end of the spectrum of things he wanted to do. Presumably, serving the feudal lord would mean lots of rules and restrictions. Worst case, he could end up with less freedom than even serfs had. And so Allen racked his brains as hard as he could. He needed to come up with some way to break through this situation at any cost.

“A houseboy? Hm...that’s not quite right,” the feudal lord murmured, stroking his well-groomed mustache.

A disappointed “Huh?” escaped Rodin’s lips. He had almost been sure that his request would be accepted.

Oh? Is the lord going to say no? Go for it. You really should say no!

“He did a splendid job as our guide on today’s hunt, as well as serving our table last night. I am as impressed with him as I am with you, Rodin. You have raised a fine son.”

“Th-Thank you, m’lord.”

“Consequently, Allen will become a manservant of House Granvelle.”

“A manservant?! Are you sure, m’lord?!” Rodin was so shocked his voice broke.

Uh, is a houseboy different from a manservant? No, no, that’s not what I should be thinking about right now!

“Is that fine, Sebas?”

“Absolutely, Master.”

“Allen! The feudal lord said he’d accept you as his manservant!”

Rodin completely forgot that he was in Lord Granvelle’s presence and turned to ruffle Allen’s hair vigorously in celebration. He was so overjoyed, tears were flowing down his face.

Gerda also chimed in. “Good for you, Allen! His Lordship’s offering you an opportunity that us serfs’d never see in a million years!” He then continued going on at length about how incredible the offer was; meanwhile, Allen looked dazed, as if his soul had left his body.

The feudal lord remained silent, merely observing. He had just made Rodin—who had contributed so much to the village—recall a memory so traumatic it gave him the shakes. This was therefore his way of atoning for that transgression.

The baron smiled with satisfaction at the ear-to-ear grin on Rodin’s face, then declared, “Allen, son of Rodin. Be my manservant and join my House Granvelle at the foot of the table.”

“Huh?” Allen looked so confused, a cartoonish question mark was practically visible above his head.

If I say yes here...would I be completely swearing away my chance at a life of freedom?!

“Hm? What’s the matter?” Now it was the feudal lord’s turn to look confused, as he had expected an immediate affirmative answer.

Rodin, who apparently thought Allen did not know how to reply, said, “Allen, this is where you should say, ‘It would be an honor, m’lord.’”

No, hold on, seriously, what am I supposed to do here?!

Allen looked at Rodin, whose tears were still overflowing from his eyes and coursing down his cheeks; he was just that happy. Allen realized this was the first time he had ever seen his father cry. This was his father, the man who had dedicated himself to raising Allen over the past eight years. Allen had indeed lived thirty-five years as Kenichi before coming to this world, but he deeply respected Rodin and his way of life from the bottom of his heart. He was glad that he had been born as Rodin’s child.

For his family’s sake, the man had tilled the fields, day in and day out without vacations, and had put his life on the line to face the great boars every autumn. Rodin also cared deeply for his companions and was a role model to the other serfs.

That same Rodin now had tears streaming down his face.

There’s no way I can say no to that face, is there? It’s outright impossible.

“It...It would be an honor, my lord.”

And in this way, Allen became a manservant of House Granvelle.

＊ ＊ ＊

It was already dusk by the time the audience with Lord Granvelle ended. Allen was informed that he would be accompanying the baron when he returned to Granvelle City tomorrow afternoon, and that he would not have any serving duties that night. He returned home with his father, where Rodin told Theresia about how Allen had become their feudal lord’s manservant. Theresia congratulated her son, her expression sorrowful.

The night passed, and morning broke. Allen, who had not slept very well, offered to draw water for the family, then headed out. When he met the serfs at the well, their eyes were warm. These were all faces that he had seen many, many times over the past eight years.

Over a single night, news of the feudal lord granting commoner status to all twenty members of the original hunting party and their families had spread throughout the entire village. Quite a few of the hunters had already decided to accept the offer.

“Hey there, Allen! I heard you’ll be working at a noble’s house! Good for you!”

“Thank you very much.”

The serfs at the well all wished Allen the best, and he thanked them one by one. When he got home and finished refilling the family jar, he found Mash still sulking from the night before. He complained that he’d be lonely with Allen gone. For his part, Allen had also wanted to be there for Mash, especially when he would undergo his Appraisal Ceremony next year.

Allen ate his breakfast and cleaned himself up, then tied his well-used wooden sword to his waist.

“Here, take this with you,” Rodin said, thrusting a small jute bag at his son.

“I already said last night, I don’t need it,” Allen returned.

Inside the bag they were pushing back and forth was the more than three hundred silver Allen had earned hunting albaherons. Allen expected to receive a salary while working at Lord Granvelle’s mansion, so he wanted Rodin to keep the money for an emergency.

“Doesn’t matter! Take it!” Rodin insisted gruffly.

In the end, Allen folded. He reluctantly counted out a hundred silver and stashed it in his luggage. “Luggage” might have been an overstatement, as he had few belongings to bring with him. In fact, everything he owned fit inside a single small jute bag. It had taken almost no time at all for him to pack.

“Ah, we managed to catch you!”

Just as Allen was about to leave, Gerda arrived, with Mathilda, Krena, and Lily in tow. Allen had planned on dropping by their house on his way to the residential area, but they had come to see him off instead.

Krena, having heard about Allen’s departure from her father, looked absolutely heartbroken. “Do you really have to go?”

Allen nodded. “Mm-hm. You take care of yourself, okay?”

The girl looked down at the ground, at a loss for words. Allen noticed she was clutching her wooden sword as usual.

“All right, let’s play knight,” Allen offered.

“Huh? Play knight?”

“Yup. You up for a round?”

“Always!”

Good, I got her on board. I want her to see me off with a smile.

The moment Allen mentioned “playing knight,” Krena perked back up. However, they could not play in the garden, as it was currently packed with twenty albaheron carcasses. So they stepped outside the garden wall, their families watching on.

Krena took up position a distance away from Allen, then declared, “I am Krena the knight! Let us fight with honor!”

A hot sensation welled up in Allen’s chest upon hearing this line—the same line that he had heard so many times over the past five years. He tightened his grip on his weapon and replied, “I am Allen, manservant of House Granvelle. Sword Lord Krena, come at me!”

A look of surprise came over Krena’s face. Allen’s line was different from usual. This time he had called her “Sword Lord.”

Allen’s new identity was the fruit of Rodin’s efforts after risking his life hunting great boars for thirteen years. Allen had purposely taken up this new title out of respect for his father.

“What’s the matter? Are you not coming at me?”

“Here I go!”

So began their final session of playing knight. Both eight-year-olds swung their wooden swords with incredible power and speed far beyond what other children their age could achieve. Allen’s and Krena’s parents had watched this scene countless times before.

“One final bout to say goodbye, huh,” Rodin murmured.

“Sounds just like something they’d do,” Gerda responded, chuckling slightly.

However, the spectators quickly noticed something was off. All these years, Krena had always been on the offensive and Allen on the defensive. Krena overpowered Allen in every one of their sessions. Today, however, Allen was the one with the upper hand.

“Huh?!” Krena had noticed as well.

“What’s wrong, Sword Lord Krena?! Is that all you’ve got?!”

Krena answered his provocation with a heavier swing, but Allen dodged it and returned a counterattack. Krena was the one on the ropes now.

As soon as he knew he would have to leave everyone, Allen had decided that his farewell to Krena would be playing knights. He had also made up his mind to win this last match.

“What?! How?!” Krena was completely bewildered. She had never lost, not even once. Now, however, she found herself overwhelmed. Allen’s movements had changed from those she had grown used to seeing over the past five years. He was faster than he had ever been before. Even the four adults’ eyes were wide with surprise.

To make a long story short, Allen had Synthesized a whole bunch of Bird E cards ahead of their match. Thanks to this, he had given his Agility a massive boost.

---

Name: Allen
Age: 8
Class: Summoner
Level: 7
HP: 152 (190)
MP: 208 (260) + 200
Attack: 75 (94)
Endurance: 75 (94)
Agility: 144 (181) + 200
Intelligence: 216 (270) + 200
Luck: 144 (181) + 200
Skills: Summoning {4}, Creation {4}, Synthesis {4}, Strengthening {4}, Expansion {3}, Storage, Deletion, Sword Mastery {3}, Throwing {3}
XP: 0/7,000

Skill Levels
Summoning: 4
Creation: 4
Synthesis: 4
Strengthening: 4

Skill Experience
Creation: 47,946/1,000,000
Synthesis: 47,900/1,000,000
Strengthening: 47,640/1,000,000

Creatable Summons
Insect: E, F, G, H
Beast: E, F, G, H
Bird: E, F, G
Grass: E, F
Stone: E

Holder
Insect:
Beast:
Bird: E x 20
Grass: E x 20
Stone:

---

As a Summoner, Allen’s Agility was ranked A. In other words, his class was itself designed with an emphasis on Agility. Now that he was Lvl. 7 and had twenty Bird E cards, his total Agility was over three hundred. There was no way for Krena, who was still only Lvl. 1, to keep up. It was not long before the tip of Allen’s wooden sword was at Krena’s throat. The match was decided.

“I lost,” Krena mumbled, looking stunned.

“Looks like it is a draw between us, Sword Lord Krena,” Allen declared. I’m glad that worked out. I used up almost all the magic stones I had, but it was worth it.

“Huh?”

The way Krena saw it, she had lost completely. All four of the adults thought the same.

“This is a draw. There’s no doubt about it,” Allen repeated.

“A...draw?”

“That’s right. A draw, a tie. Sword Lord Krena, it looks like we will have to wait until we meet again to determine the winner.”

“Huh?”

“Our match remains unfinished. The outcome will have to be deferred.” Allen reverted to his normal tone. “When we meet again. Okay, Krena?”

When they were both older, they would see each other again. It was a promise.

A smile blossomed on Krena’s face. “Of course! Next time we meet, I’ll be waaay stronger than you!”

There’s the face I wanted to see.

Allen, however, was more worldly-wise. He knew that once Krena turned twelve, she would leave for Academy City. After she graduated, she would then likely go on to serve the royal family. Their stations in life and social statuses would be vastly different. He might never see her again—in fact, that was the more probable outcome. Still, he wanted to part ways with her through this undecided match. He had even used up almost his entire stock of magic stones to ensure this result.

After having said his goodbyes with Krena, Allen turned to do the same with everyone else. Theresia hugged him tight and told him, “Be well, my son.” Allen fought back his tears.

He then went over to Mash, who was bawling his eyes out. “Mash, grow up strong and protect Myulla, okay?”

“Mm!”

Allen hugged his family tightly but did not cry. He had to uphold his pride as a big brother in front of his young siblings.

Allen then set off for the village gate with Rodin. The two did not speak along the way, but that was all right. When they reached the village square, they found two familiar faces waiting for them. The first was Dogora, the boy with a bumpkin face, and the other was Pelomas. They both approached Allen.

Dogora thrust a long object forward. “Hey, Allen. Take this.” He had quit calling Allen “Black Hair” a while ago.

“You sure I can have this?” Allen asked, accepting what he recognized to be a short sword.

This is the same one that I asked for the price of two years ago. It cost fifty silvers, if I remember right. I guess I never did get around to buying it.

Allen had really wanted this sword back when he spotted it in the weapons merchant’s shop. However, he had stopped himself, deciding to save the money for his family’s sake instead. The weapons merchant had told his son, Dogora, who had then accosted Allen as he was on his way back home. Apparently Dogora had still remembered from back then.

“Thank you, Dogora. I’ll take good care of it.”

“Well, that’s yours now. See ya!” Dogora said gruffly before dashing off as if to hide his embarrassment. Although he and Allen had only known each other for two years, there was no doubting their friendship. Allen slid the short sword into his belt, right next to his wooden sword.

Next, Pelomas and the other villagers also said their parting words. Apparently everyone in the residential area had heard about Allen leaving to serve the feudal lord. All their well-wishes filled Allen’s heart.

Rodin and Allen resumed walking. When the village gate came into view, Rodin, who had been silent this whole time, simply said, “Allen, this village is your home.”

“Yes, father.”

“I’m sure you’ll go on to do much greater things than simply being a manservant. Make sure you fulfill your obligations. Don’t worry about getting in contact with us until you do.”

In other words, Rodin was telling Allen not to worry about his family and to focus only on making the most out of this opportunity—after all, a former serf getting to serve a baron’s family right after becoming a commoner was unheard of.

“I’ll give it my all.”

After leaving those words behind, Allen parted ways with Rodin before the village gate. It was already time to set off, and so he boarded the carriage that someone pointed him toward. He looked out the window at the village where he had grown up. The familiar sight gradually receded as the carriage began its journey. Soon, Rodin’s figure was too small to make out. And eventually, the village itself faded from view. The tears Allen had been holding back burst forth, like water gushing from a broken dam.

In this way, Allen left behind Krena Village to start a new life in Granvelle City. After eight years as a serf, he had become a commoner and was accepted as a manservant in the service of Baron Granvelle, lord of the realm of Granvelle.