Bonus Short Stories

Rainy Day

Like the world Kenichi was from, this world had four seasons. New buds sprouted in spring, temperatures soared in summer, crops ripened in autumn, and snow covered the land in winter. There was one thing, however, that Allen found different from his previous world: there was no rainy season here. Unlike in Japan, where it would rain a great deal for around one month every year, rain would fall anytime throughout the year in this world.

Oof, it’s a total downpour today.

Allen looked outside from under the overhanging roof of his beat-up shack of a house. It was raining literal buckets. Water roared turbulently through the irrigation channel in front of the house, threatening to overflow. Because the house’s roof was not entirely waterproof, rainwater leaked in from various places. The family had set out all their earthenware plates and jars to protect their most important possessions, but the leaks were so bad that the earthen-floored area was soaking wet.

That said, Allen had grown used to the rain and the leaks after living five years in this world. This scene did not invoke any sense of melancholy in him.

On rainy days, Rodin and Theresia also took it easy. If it was autumn or winter, Rodin would pass the time using a club to beat out the stalks harvested together with the grain to make straw for woven sandals. It was early summer now, however, so he had nothing to do at all.

After they finished lunch, Allen killed time messing around with the energetic Mash. Before long, play knight hour arrived.

“Alleeen, let’s play!”

She still came, huh.

Krena cheerfully came in from the deluge outside, setting down a wooden board with a shaft stuck in the middle. This was a makeshift umbrella that Allen had come up with. Of course, it could not be folded and was overall very simple in design.

Allen had come to this world to enjoy the challenge of it, and had no interest in anything like “inventing” convenient items from his previous world and starting a financial enterprise. In the first place, it was extremely difficult for serfs to do business, as they did not have the freedom of choosing their occupations for themselves. So Allen only adopted a few simple things that could make his life slightly easier, like this pseudo-umbrella.

“Sure thing, Krena. Hmm, but what do you want to play? It’s raining so hard and all.”

“Hmm...”

It was still raining cats and dogs outside. Even Krena knew better than to suggest playing knight inside the house with everyone cooped up with them.

“In that case, Krena, wanna play Reversi?”

It’s still too early for Mash, but Krena should be able to get it.

“River-see?” Krena repeated, her head tilted quizzically.

Allen gestured for her to wait in the large room, then ducked into the nursery and reappeared with a board in hand.

“Oh! You’re bringing that out, are you?” Rodin looked up from playing with Mash, who had shifted his attention to his father when Allen got up.

“Yes, papa.”

This family liked to pull out the Reversi board whenever they wanted to kill time. Allen had made it based on his memories from his previous life. It was literally just a board with grooves that marked out 8x8 squares. For the pieces, he had sliced up a tree branch of appropriate thickness and made simple marks on either face to differentiate between heads and tails.

Krena’s interest was piqued. “How do you play this?”

“You put one of your pieces here.”

“Like this?”

Allen proceeded to explain the rules while playing. Rodin and Mash also peered over with curiosity. Theresia was steaming a potato to serve Krena as a snack.

Kinda sucks that Reversi can only be played with two people. I made it first because it’s easy to make, but I should probably make something that more people can play together. Playing cards...would probably be a pain. Maybe backgammon would be good.

“If you don’t place a piece here, I’m gonna turn over all the pieces in this row.”

“Ugh...”

The number of Krena’s pieces steadily decreased as Allen started taking the corners. He wasn’t aiming for an overwhelming victory, however, so he continued to give Krena hints as the game went on. Nevertheless, she still struggled.

As I’d feared, she’s having a hard time. She does seem like the type who moves on intuition and feel, after all.

Allen did notice that when playing knight, Krena seemed to attack and shift position without really thinking about it. He had to use his head to come up with strategies and test things out, but she seemed to instinctively figure out how to deal with everything he threw at her.

Conversely, this talent did not translate well to the playing board. The two of them had been playing for over thirty minutes by now, but no matter what she did, Krena could not beat Allen.

The potato Theresia had prepared for Krena lay untouched next to her. Normally, she would have immediately said thanks and dug in with relish, but the only thing on her mind right now was figuring out how to win. She brought her face close to the board, her brows furrowed with thought.

Rodin, who had been watching the whole time, commented wryly, “Yeah, she’s not gonna win.”

What?! Why’d you have to go and say it?! It’s not like you can beat me either!

Allen had also played against Rodin and Theresia before, but he had won handily almost every time. Even so, there was no need to actually put such things into words. Tears started welling up at the corner of Krena’s eyes. She was so frustrated that she even started to sniffle a little.

Oh, all right. I’ll think up a game more based on chance for next time. For today, I’ll go easy on you, Krena.

“H-Here!” Krena finally gained a corner and joyfully flipped a whole row of pieces.

“Aw, I lost,” Allen conceded.

“YAY!” Krena grabbed her potato and took a huge bite out of it, basking in the afterglow of victory.

“Wanna play one more round?”

“Sure!”

Playtime continued for quite a while longer in Allen’s house as rain continued to pour outside.

Pelomas the Merchant’s Ambitions

“I’m home,” Pelomas announced as he came tottering in with unsteady steps.

Deboji, who happened to be nearby as Pelomas headed to the kitchen to grab water, responded, “Oh? Welcome back.”

“Thank you, father.”

“So, how’s it going? You getting along well with the Sword Lord?”

“It’s all right.”

“What? It’s only ‘all right’? You know you can invite her to our house anytime, right? Just like for New Year’s.”

“I know, father.”

Every day since the Appraisal Ceremony that revealed the birth of a Sword Lord in his village, Deboji had told his son to get along with her. Her future was very likely to be bright and distinguished, if Sword Lord Dverg’s serf-to-noble tale was anything to go by. Forging a relationship with Krena now could lead to opportunities in the future. It was with such ulterior motives in mind that Pelomas had reluctantly accepted the invitation from his friend, Dogora, to join the play knight sessions at Krena’s house.

Honestly, Pelomas thought Krena’s movements during the play sessions were entirely superhuman. He could tell despite knowing nothing about the sword. Allen, who had been playing with her for several years before Dogora had joined in, was equally monstrous.

The group’s members were, from strongest to weakest, Krena, Allen, Dogora, Pelomas, then Mash, with a huge gulf between Allen and Dogora. Pelomas was not particularly interested in closing that gulf, having never been particularly athletic in the first place. He mainly spent these sessions sparring with Mash.

“Also—”

“I know, I know, father. You don’t have to tell me again. But come to think of it, I’m going to the royal capital, not the Academy. We might not even meet again in the future.”

“That’s a fair point. But that’s all the more reason to get close to her now.”

As Pelomas was a Merchant by Talent, he would be studying at a commercial school run by the Merchant’s Guild located in the kingdom’s capital rather than go to Academy City with Krena. Just like the Academy, this commercial school was a three-year program for children aged twelve to fifteen. After graduating, alumni were expected to apprentice at stores, eventually becoming full-time employees or going independent. Pelomas had heard of this career path from his father after learning of his Talent at his Appraisal Ceremony, and this was the direction in life he was striving toward. This did mean, however, that his life would take a very different turn from Krena’s a few years down the line.

“Who knows? You might open a store in the capital one day, and you can’t have too many connections with nobles when you do. I won’t go so far as to tell you to marry Krena, but you should treasure the relationships you have.”

“O-Okay...”

Pelomas could not imagine Krena getting married to anyone. If she really had to, maybe Allen would be a good match.

＊ ＊ ＊

After finishing dinner, Pelomas returned to his room. He pulled back his floor carpet, lifted a loose floorboard, and took out a few sheets of parchment, spreading them out on his table.

“I really am lucky. I still can’t believe everything I have here. Heh heh heh...”

He was looking at design sketches and instructions for Reversi and dice games that Allen had come up with.

“Allen’s such a mystery. Where does he even get these ideas from?” Pelomas muttered to himself, the corners of his mouth naturally lifting into a grin.

During a recent play knight session, it had started pouring without warning. As there was no way they could continue, all the children had ducked inside Krena’s house, where it turned out she had multiple strange games stored away. When asked, she revealed that everything had been made by Allen.

Pelomas had never heard of any of them in Granvelle City nor the royal capital, but decided to try playing them anyway. To his shock, he found them quite fun and their designs extremely well-polished. The uncomplicated rules made it easy for anyone to join in, and the game pieces themselves were very simple to make.

“These are games that only exist in this villa— no, only in Krena’s house. Allen really is amazing for coming up with things like these.”

Pelomas had been able to tell right away how lucrative these ideas were. On the parchment before him were his notes for products that he wanted to create and sell once he grew old enough to start his own business.

Earlier that day, he had heard of a game involving cards made from wooden plaques. He was now writing all the details down before he forgot them, relying on the feeble light of a single candle.

The great ambitions of Pelomas the Merchant had only just begun.

Krena and Chores

It was now nearing the end of autumn, just when the temperature was starting to get nippy. After Rodin got hurt, Allen had started helping out with chores around the house.

I’ve finished harvesting all the potatoes, but there are still a lot of things to do.

In addition to the usual chores, such as drawing water from the well in the morning, doing the laundry, and helping Theresia cook meals, Allen also had to sort out the harvested potatoes. On top of all that—though this was not technically a chore—the albaherons he caught also needed to be bled and butchered. He had left his mother Theresia to nurse Rodin, who was still largely bedridden, and take care of young Mash.

This morning, Allen had, as usual, drawn water and hunted a few albaherons. He was now washing his family’s laundry. There was quite a lot of it, what with there being four people.

All right, this should be enough. I’ll have to butcher the albaherons next.

Allen pulled all the laundry from the large bucket he washed it in and hung it up on a clothesline in the yard, moving with practiced, flowing motions like a gamer completing his daily quests. By now, the carcasses on the bleeding rack had already finished draining and were ready to be processed.

＊ ＊ ＊

In the afternoon, Krena came to Allen’s house as she always did.

“Alleeeen! Let’s play! Huh? Where’s Allen?”

“Oh hi, Krena dear. Allen is out in the yard.”

Krena thanked Theresia and ducked back out of the house. She looked around and found Allen among the piles of potatoes.

“Oh, hey there. Please give me a few more minutes.”

“What are you doing, Allen?”

“I’m separating out the seed potatoes and the potatoes we’re giving the village chief.”

Sixty percent of the harvest had to be yielded to the village chief as tax. Allen was currently picking through potatoes roughly the size of Japanese sweet potatoes and placing them into the various baskets laid out in front of him.

Krena, who already knew that Allen was helping his family out, sat down next to him and placed her wooden sword on the ground. “Allen, what should I do?”

“Aw, you’ll help? Thank you. Then can you help me pick out the seed potatoes? Find the ones around this size and fill this basket with them.”

Apparently Krena was willing to forgo playing knight today. She meekly did what Allen asked.

“Allen is always helpful. Papa and mama said so.”

“Hm? Well, I do the things I do because this is my family.”

A while after sharing what Gerda and Mathilda had said, Krena finished filling up her basket.

“Allen, it’s full.”

“Thank you. Can you bring your basket over there?”

“Sure!”

Krena got up and lifted the basket.

“Wait, it’s heavy, right? Are you okay?” Allen asked in alarm as he saw her walk off with wobbly steps.

“I-I’m okay,” Krena called back. However, although she had talent with the sword, her strength was only equal to other children her age. What’s more, the basket obscured her view.

“Wait, you’re heading into the laun—”

“WAHHH!”

Krena forcefully crashed into the support for the clothesline, bringing everything down. The laundry, which was still wet, became covered with dirt as the potatoes scattered all over. The sight of the chaos spread before her eyes left Krena at her wits’ end.

Allen rushed over, checking her for injuries. “You okay?! Are you hurt anywhere?!”

“I’m sorry, Allen. I wanted to help, but I only made a big mess.” The usually bright and cheerful Krena seemed on the verge of tears.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Allen said, giving her head a few pats.

“A-Allen...?”

“Can you gather the potatoes and put them back into the basket? I’ll get the laundry-washing bucket out.”

“O-Okay...”

Allen proceeded to gather the dirtied laundry as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Krena gathered the potatoes, sniffling a little.

When the preparations for washing the laundry again were ready, Allen beckoned Krena to join him in the bucket. “Krena, take off your shoes and come in. But be careful, the water’s a little cold.”

Krena kicked off her sandals and accepted Allen’s outstretched arm. “Wah!” she exclaimed in wonder at the experience of stepping into a water-filled laundry bucket.

“We do this. See? We stomp on the clothes.”

“Like this?”

“That’s right! You’re doing great, Krena.”

The two kids began stomping the dirt off the laundry, soon forgetting the chill of the water.

“Allen really is amazing.”

“What do you mean?”

“’Cuz you can do everything!”

“Oh, that’s not true. Thank you for helping me today. Let’s play knight tomorrow!”

“Sure!”

Krena flashed Allen the biggest smile she had that day as she energetically tread on the clothes in the bucket with him.

Chasing a Horned Rabbit

On a certain day near the end of summer, after finishing his morning chores, Allen was now playing knight with Krena. Their wooden swords clashed again and again in loud clacks as Mash watched on from inside the house.

Today, as always, Allen was on the losing end. With Krena’s Sword Mastery improving a hundred times faster than his own, he always struggled to seize the initiative in these matches. He kept coming up with new strategies, but it never took long for Krena to find a way to cope.

“An opening!”

“Whoa!”

Allen’s sword was knocked out of his hands. It flew into the corner of the yard, spinning several times in mid-air.

“Sir Allen! Will you continue?!” Krena asked, beaming with an ear-to-ear grin as if celebrating her very first victory—even though she basically won every time.

“I surrender, Sir Krena,” Allen replied wryly, lifting both hands in a sign of submission. “I’m gonna pick my sword back up.”

“Okay!”

When Allen approached the overgrown grass in the corner of his yard, however, he heard a rustling sound.

“Hm?”

Something was in the grass.

Sniffle. Sniffle.

“Allen? What’s wrong?”

“There’s something here, Krena!”

It turned out to be a rabbit as big as a medium-sized dog with a horn on its forehead. As soon as it noticed Allen’s approach, it charged at him. Thankfully, as he had his cards arranged in preparation for playing knight with Krena, he managed to evade the attack.

“Are you okay, Allen?”

“I-I’m fi— Krena, watch out! The horned rabbit is heading for you!”

The warning from Allen prompted Krena to instinctively lift her wooden sword up in readiness for battle.

“Come! I am Sir Krena!”

However, the rabbit that was rushing toward Krena seemed to falter in the face of the pressure that Krena was emanating and instead took a sharp right, bounding out of the yard.

“It’s getting away. Krena, let’s catch it!”

Horned rabbits were known for being delicious. Neither Allen nor Krena had caught one before, and since this one had appeared to them, they decided to give chase. Allen grabbed his wooden sword and rushed out with Krena. However, the beast was fast, and it soon dove into the fallow field on Allen’s family’s land where the grass grew taller than even Allen and Krena themselves.

“Krena, let’s split up. If you see it, give me a shout!”

“Okay!”

The two children followed the rabbit into the grass, wooden swords in hand. But then thirty minutes passed with nothing to show for it. For all they knew, the monster might have left the fallow field as soon as they themselves went in.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

Before they knew it, it was now time for Krena to head home.

“It’s a pity, but I guess it got away. If we see it again, let’s catch it then!”

“Okay!”

The best outcome would be if they had caught the horned rabbit, but the two children were not all that down about their failure. Krena said goodbye to Allen and then energetically ran home.

“Welcome back, Krena.”

“Daa!”

“Mama, Lily, I’m back.”

When she returned home, Krena was greeted by her mother Mathilda and Lily, her baby sister. It would be a while yet before Lily could speak, but now that she could totter around on her own, she always glued herself to Krena.

Krena was playing with Lily for a while before a large, bear-like man lumbered into the house and said in a loud voice, “I’m back!”

“Welcome back, hun,” Mathilda replied. “You seem happy. What happened?”

The man was none other than Gerda, Krena’s father. Because Lily was still young and required Mathilda’s constant attention, he tended to the family’s fields by himself.

“Look at...this! It’s been a while since I caught one!” Gerda crowed proudly, suddenly thrusting forward what he had been holding behind his back this whole time. It turned out to be a horned rabbit carcass.

“WOW! Papa’s so amazing!”

“Waaaahhhh!”

“Aw, hun, you’ve gone and made Lily cry!”

“OW!!!”

Krena looked super impressed seeing her father with a horned rabbit, the exact same creature she herself had failed to catch earlier. However, because he had been hiding it behind his back and had shown it very suddenly, Lily had gotten so surprised she burst into tears. His thoughtless gesture earned Gerda a punch to the face that sent him flying out the front door.

“But honestly, this is a great help, especially with the great boar hunts still a ways off,” Mathilda conceded.

“Well, there you go.”

Unlike the autumn, when meat would be much more accessible thanks to the hunts going on, this horned rabbit was a rare and much-needed source of protein for the two growing children.

Krena chimed in. “Allen will be happy too!” Apparently, sharing this windfall with her friend was a given in her mind.

“Mm, that’s right, they did share with us last time.”

Normally, horned rabbits could only be found outside the village in the wild. Only every once in a while would one manage to slip through the surrounding wall and get inside, so horned rabbit meat was considered a rare treat. Last time, Rodin had caught one and shared it with Gerda and his family.

“Good girl,” Gerda said as he rubbed Krena’s head gently. He was praising her for being willing to share her precious food with a friend.

“Mm-hm, I am a good girl!”

“Well, it looks like tomorrow night is gonna be a sleepover. Since Lily is still little, how ’bout we call Allen’s family over here.”

“YAAAY!!!”

Mathilda smiled warmly at the exchange between father and daughter.

The Resolve of a Butcher

“I’m back.”

“Welcome ba— What’s with that look on your face? Did something happen?”

When the man who had gone out to draw water for the family got home, his wife immediately noticed his weird demeanor. Including the baby the wife was still pregnant with, this was a four-member family of serfs.

“Rodin’s son asked me for something. I’ll be heading over to his place after breakfast.”

“Huh? Isn’t his son still really young? Why’re you going all the way over there for a kid?”

“Not sure, but it shouldn’t take long. I’ll be back soon to go buy our firewood.”

“Please do. Winter’s getting closer by the day.”

The man enjoyed a breakfast of the usual meager fare of steamed potatoes with his wife and child, then made his way over to Rodin’s house. The first thing he noticed when he got near was the smell of blood. When he reached the front gate, he gasped as he found himself face-to-face with a large albaheron that was being bled.

“It’s an albaheron,” the man murmured in shock. “Why’s there a monster carcass here?”

Before the man could gather his thoughts, however, Allen approached him. The boy thanked him for coming as promised. For some reason, the man found himself naturally adopting a respectful tone, even though he was speaking to a mere seven-year-old. Perhaps it was the bizarreness of the situation. Perhaps it was because he was sure that the boy possessed something different, something mysterious about him. After Rodan got seriously injured in last year’s great boar hunt, the man had seen Allen nonchalantly carrying heavy water buckets on multiple occasions. What was more, there were many eyewitness accounts of Allen easily shouldering loads of firewood that any normal adult would have struggled to lift.

As it turned out, Allen wanted the man to help butcher his albaherons. The reward for this task was two blocks of meat per bird, the equivalent of eight days’ worth of firewood. The man asked why there were albaherons to begin with, but Allen only said he had defeated them when they came down. That was obviously not the full story, but the man decided not to press the matter to avoid jeopardizing this opportunity for his own family’s sake.

This man was one of those who joined in on the butchering whenever great boars were brought back to the village. He was not directly part of the hunts like Rodin and Gerda were. Consequently, the amount of great boar meat that he received afterward was only a fraction of the hunters’ share. That had been fine so far, but his child was growing bigger and needed more nutrition. He had a second child on the way as well. His family needed more meat now than it ever had before.

“Have you ever butchered a bird before?”

“Nope, but I think I’ll manage if it’s just dressing the meat.”

“Really?! Can you teach me? My father showed me before, but he was too busy to do it properly.”

“Of course. You start by going—”

So the carving up of the first albaheron began, with the man explaining what he was doing and Allen listening attentively.

“So, you do this here?”

“That’s right. And for the wings, this is where you’d want to separate them.”

“Your explanation is even clearer than my father’s!”

The man thought Allen to be a very fast learner. Additionally, he came to a realization upon seeing the child at work.

“So, you’ve already overcome a Trial of the Gods. That’s incredible for someone of your age, Allen. And I guess this is the reason behind how you’re able to carry so much water?”

While he was butchering, Allen displayed a strength far beyond that of any child his age. The man realized the process of killing all the albaherons currently waiting to be processed had helped Allen overcome a Trial of the Gods.

“Hm? Pretty much, yes. But mister, you must have overcome one or two yourself, haven’t you? Even though I don’t remember seeing you at the hunts.”

Allen, in turn, had also noticed that the man was stronger than most others. The difference was so remarkable that it could only be explained by him having leveled up a few times.

“Mm, I don’t go hunting anymore.”

“‘Anymore’? So that means you’ve gone before? Why’d you stop?”

The conversation continued strong as the two continued their butchering work.

“Well...a friend of mine got hurt during my first hunt. So then my wife forbade me from ever going again.”

“I see. Well, it’s a lot safer now than before. If you’ve already overcome a Trial before, it’d be a waste to not try going again.”

“You think so?”

Because the man seemed interested, Allen described the current hunting experience to him. Currently, there was a system in place for those without experience to stand at the back and simply thrust at the boars using long spears. In order to stand on the frontlines, one would need approval from either Rodin or Gerda. And of course, if someone was fast on their feet, they could join Pekej and help pull targets toward the rest of the party.

“Butchers get three blocks of meat, right? Those who hold long spears get five, whereas those using short spears or in the pulling group each get ten.”

“Wow, that’s really different from how things were back in my day...”

The man’s heart was wavering. Actually, what he had said about a friend getting hurt was a lie. The truth was there were several founding serfs he knew who had died, with each successive hunt claiming more lives. Almost all of them had been newcomers with zero experience. Even serfs understood the concept that those who had yet to overcome Trials of the Gods died more easily. But Allen was now saying there was a safe and sure way to help such newcomers overcome their first few Trials.

After this, half a day passed. Because of how big albaherons were, the man only managed to butcher three of them. However, at six blocks of meat and half a liver, the reward he received from Allen was already more than what he normally received from helping butcher one great boar. He promptly returned home.

“What took so lo— Wait, what’s with all that?” His wife was about to express her displeasure at his delayed return when she noticed the tied-up blocks of meat in her husband’s hands.

“I got these from Rodin’s son.”

While eating lunch, the man shared everything that had happened this morning. Because the liver would go bad quickly, they were already eating it. This portion of the organ seemed nearly the size of a block of meat in and of itself. The man looked between his son, who was currently doing his best to eat the boiled liver despite it being hot, and his wife’s bulging stomach.

“What a strange child he is,” the man’s wife marveled. “How did he even manage to catch that many albaherons?”

“Well, I’m sure—” The man found himself holding his tongue. He was sure that the gods were involved in Allen’s life in some capacity, but such things were often best left unsaid.

“What’s the matter?”

“Honey...I’m thinking of taking up my spear again.”

“What?! Huh?! But what about the coming baby?!”

“I want to do it. For yours and the baby’s sake.”

The man looked straight into his wife’s eyes as he roughly tousled his son’s hair.

Krena Village After Allen’s Departure

It was a day not long after Allen had left Krena Village with Baron Granvelle. The year had not yet turned, and it was still deep in winter, with the temperature being so chilly that all the villagers struggled to get out of bed in the morning without the warmth of a lit fireplace. Right now, Deboji was in the middle of examining the goods that he would be selling to the traveling merchant who would be arriving today.

“Looks like business is great again this year, huh?” the merchant in question commented as he strode into the room, guided here by one of Deboji’s hired help.

“Ah, there you are. Well, it’s as you see. I have the villagers to thank for this.”

This merchant had been making the trip between faraway Granvelle City to this remote village for several years now. For a frontier village in the middle of nowhere, the presence of traveling merchants like him was of vital importance. This specific merchant visited once every few months, and today was one such day.

Ever since Deboji learned that his son, Pelomas, had the Talent of a Merchant, he had been making the boy sit in attendance whenever he did business, hoping that these experiences might come in handy for him one day when he grew up.

“Wow! Albaheron wings again this year! And these boxes are the feathers?”

“Yes they are.”

Albaherons, which flew high up in the sky above not only Krena Village but the entire Granvelle fiefdom, could only be caught in the rare moments they descended. Because of this, the merchant’s eyes had immediately shot to the pile of wings. He went straight over to examine their quality, rejoicing at seeing them for the third year in a row.

“Your village is producing more and more of them every year!” he exclaimed while thinking about where to sell the wings. “How do you even catch this many of them anyway? Right, what about the meat? Would you sell me the meat too?”

“I told you last year that the meat is not available. And since we’re on the topic...”

The meat was not available because it had not been collected as tax. Whenever Deboji thought back to the time the first albaheron had been caught, he could not help but think to himself, “He sure got me good.”

The child known as Allen had been aware of just how many albaherons he could catch. Deboji only found out at the end of that year. To his surprise, the amount of materials submitted as tax indicated that Allen had bagged more than ten albaherons. The rumor among the serfs about a young boy hunting a large number of albaherons never made it to Deboji’s ear until after the fact.

“‘Since we’re on the topic’...what?”

“This is the last batch of albaherons. There won’t be any more next year. So I’ll be charging you a premium for everything here today.”

“Huh?! What does that mean? But you’ve managed to produce them three years in a row. Come on, don’t pull my leg.”

However, the village chief confirmed that there would be no more albaheron wings next year. Consequently, he was pricing this year’s batch twenty percent higher than last year’s. As he was saying this, he sent Pelomas a look, indicating that his son should be paying attention.

It was Deboji’s obligation as village chief to wrangle out as much profit as possible. He was basically trading on behalf of the whole village, after all. Of course, sixty percent of whatever he negotiated would go to the feudal lord as tax. However, the higher the price he set, the greater the remaining forty percent would be. The more money that entered the village’s coffers, the more the village could be developed.

Allen had been gone a while now, but what he had achieved while here was great, and their effects were felt strongly even now. Deboji sincerely thought that those achievements had saved Krena Village.

“All right, all right. We’ve been trading partners for a long time now. I’ll take you at your word. So then, this here’s the register of what I’ve brought this time.”

Deboji accepted the parchment being proffered and scanned through it. “Hmm, can you bring more wine and fruit starting next time?”

“I mean, fruit I can do, but I can’t increase how much wine I sell you without His Lordship’s permission.”

The sale of wine was strictly regulated, as it negatively affected public order. Many feudal lords only allowed it to be traded on an as-needed basis in their realms. The amount that the village chief was indicating to the merchant definitely required express permission.

“Look at this,” Deboji said, holding out a piece of parchment. “A permit from His Lordship.”

“Whoa! Come on, you shoulda told me earlier! Thank you for the business!” the merchant exclaimed, looking even more delighted than when he saw the albaheron wings. Selling wine was a lucrative business. And now that Krena Village had a permit, he could sell them more—not just next time, but in all the years to come too.

After the feudal lord headed home from his visit, he had sent the permit to Krena Village through an envoy. When Deboji asked the envoy for the reason behind the permit, the man had told him it was requested by “someone named Allen” out of consideration for the villagers who put their lives on the line hunting great boars.

“Oh, and here’s the other permit we received. Next time you come, we’ll have leather products to sell. I hope you buy them at a good price.”

“Anoth— Leather? Ah, from great boars?”

“That’s right. His Lordship is sending us a leatherworker soon.”

This past year, the leatherworker in the neighboring village had been called over to make armor and shields for the great boar hunting party. However, that had been a short-term arrangement. When he finished, he had returned home.

To that end, the feudal lord had promised to dispatch a leatherworker from Granvelle City and have him open a shop in Krena Village. He would be expected to hire apprentices from among the village’s children and establish its leatherwork industry.

For a village, gaining a whole new industry was huge. Thanks to the second permit, instead of sending great boar hides straight to Granvelle City, Krena Village would be able to make a profit from manufactured leather products and turn in a portion of that profit as tax instead.

“Deboji, what did you do? C’mon, we go way back. You can tell me,” the merchant said teasingly as he continued staring at the permit in his hands. It gave permission for trading leather products made from twenty great boars each year. This was such a generous sanction that he could not help but jokingly ask if there had been foul play involved.

“Hey, don’t go smearing my good name. I told you already at the start.”

“Hm? What’d you tell me?”

“I have the villagers to thank for this. Although one’s left.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“Nah, I was just talking to myself.”

Deboji then began his negotiations with the merchant. In this way, Krena Village continued to prosper even after Allen’s departure.

Allen’s Departure and Krena’s Growth

On a certain day quite a while after Allen’s departure, Gerda found himself standing awkwardly, his two-meter-long boar-hunting spear in hand. He shot his wife, Mathilda, a quick look as if asking for help, but she simply sighed and shook her head.

The pink-haired girl before him shouted once again, “I want to join the boar hunt too!”

This was, of course, Krena, his daughter. Her voice carried loud and clear throughout this small house.

“No.”

“Why?! Allen got to go so many times!”

“As I told you, he was only observing.”

This was not the first time this exchange had taken place since Allen’s departure. However, whereas Krena had always eventually backed off—albeit reluctantly—before, she seemed resolute this time. She was standing in the doorway of the house, seemingly unwilling to budge until she got her “yes.”

During her parting match with Allen, Krena had realized she had not been able to see Allen’s sword at all. Conversely, Allen had seen her sword just fine, judging by how he had evaded and parried all her attacks with the slightest of movements. In fact, he had seemed so composed it was as if he could have won even if blindfolded. In other words, Allen had been going easy on her the entire time and allowing her to win.

Krena loved swinging her sword. She loved fighting strong opponents. When she realized that Allen had been holding back, an overwhelming urge to get faster and stronger seized her from within. This was why she wanted to participate in the great boar hunts at all costs. She had yet to overcome a single Trial of the Gods, and she knew that hunting monsters was the key to getting stronger. Allen had told her so.

“Definitely no,” Gerda repeated.

“Wh—?!”

Krena’s protest was cut short by Gerda’s bear hug.

“When you turn ten, I’ll let you hold a spear. Please be patient until then. Allen also promised he wouldn’t hold a spear until he turns ten. Can you also promise me the same thing?” Gerda asked, trying very hard to convey his earnestness to Krena through his hug.

After a short pause, Krena said, “Okay, I promise.” She had received Gerda’s feelings loud and clear, and there were tears welling up in her eyes. However, she desperately held them back. If Allen did not cry when leaving the village, she could not let herself cry either.

Gerda almost seemed to fling himself away as he grabbed his spear and headed out. After that, Krena spent the rest of the morning looking after Lily.

＊ ＊ ＊

In the afternoon, guests arrived.

“Hey, Krena! We’re here!”

“Dogora! Pelomas! Welcome!”

The two boys had come to play knight. They looked around as if looking for someone.

“Is Mash not coming today either?”

Ever since Allen had left, his younger brother, Mash, had stopped coming to these play knight sessions.

“Uh-uh, he didn’t come.”

Dogora sighed. “He’s so different from Allen, even though they’re brothers.”

“Let’s play knight at Mash’s house today!” Krena suddenly shouted, her grip tightening on her wooden sword.

“Hey, that’s a great idea. I hope he’s not still moping around.”

And with that, Krena, Dogora, and Pelomas all headed to Mash’s house. Lily, who was now four and therefore had permission to leave the house if accompanied, wanted to go along. So with Krena holding her sister’s hand, the group cut through the fields, traversing the raised footpaths.

As soon as they arrived, Krena immediately threw the front door open and shouted, “Mash, let’s play knight!”

Theresia looked up and smiled, immediately catching on. “Thank you for coming to play with Mash. That’s really sweet of you!” She understood that the group of children had come because Mash had stopped going to join the play knight sessions after Allen left.

Krena continued making her way into the house and quickly found Mash in the nursery. Their eyes met.

“K-Krena...?”

“Why are you not coming, Mash? Does your tummy hurt?”

In Krena’s mind, having a stomachache was apparently the only valid reason for not playing knight. Her question invoked a wry smile from Pelomas, who otherwise remained quiet.

“N-No I don’t... But because Allen is gone...”

Even now, Mash seemed on the verge of tears. Unlike Myulla, who was still too young, Mash had gotten very attached to Allen.

“Take up your weapon!” Krena ordered in her knight voice, pointing at the spear-like stick propped up in the corner of the room.

“Huh?”

“Allen wants you to be strong, right?”

“He...does?”

“Yep! He told you to protect Myulla!”

Krena had been there when Allen bid Mash farewell. She knew full well what it was that he had wanted to entrust his younger brother with.

Mash stared at his weapon as he thought back to what Allen had said.

“So, let’s get strong! Take up your weapon!” Krena said one more time.

Mash wiped his tears away with his sleeve and stood up. “Okay!”

From that day onwards, the play knight sessions took place at Mash’s house. The time that had stopped due to Allen’s departure was starting to move once again.

The Legend of Sword Lord Dverg ~Childhood~

Allen’s birth country had a hero known to all as Dverg the Sword Lord. This story is an episode from a few decades ago, back when Dverg, who had been born a serf, was still a child.

“Mother, you’re supposed to take it easy. Don’t get up.”

“I’m so sorry for always leaving you to do everything.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just rest.”

This dilapidated shack was occupied by Dverg and his mother alone. His father had been attacked by monsters and had died several years ago. After that, his mother had pushed herself too hard while raising him on her own and had become bedridden. Now, Dverg was working to support the both of them in spite of his young age.

A serf’s day started early. Dverg would get up at the crack of dawn and head out to the fields. At the time of this story, no one—including himself—knew about him being a Sword Lord. Unlike the age Allen was born into, back during this time, the Appraisal Ceremony was not widely available for everyone.

It was true that Dverg worked in the fields, but his job was more that of an assistant. In the first place, the fields that he worked were neither his nor his mother’s, but their neighbor’s. When his mother had fallen ill, the village chief had confiscated her lands, determining it impossible for a single child to do everything involved with maintaining farmland. Serfs did not own the land they tended, so there was no way for Dverg or his mother to protest the village chief’s decision. Currently, Dverg had a deal with his neighbor who would reward his labor with food.

Dverg was in the middle of a task when a voice suddenly bellowed at him. “Hey! There are weeds here too!”

It was a boy his own age, the son of the man who Dverg was working for. This boy would come over to mess with Dverg every once in a while.

“Okay,” Dverg replied simply before going over to weed the indicated area. He refused to make eye contact and remained silent.

Just as the boy, who was irked at Dverg’s lack of a response, was about to escalate things, his father showed up and said, “Don’t bother him when he’s working. Take care of your own tasks.”

The boy backed off reluctantly with the reprimand. After watching him leave, the man turned toward Dverg and said, “Forget the weeding. I have an errand for you to run.” He handed over a basket, rather large for a child, and told him to exchange the wheat inside for molmo fruits.

All Dverg said was “Yes, sir” before he then turned to head toward the village marketplace, cutting through the fields using the raised footpaths.

Along the way, he bumped into a young girl his age.

“Oh hey, it’s Dverg! Are you on an errand?”

This girl’s name was Clasys. She was the same person who would eventually go on to become Clasys the Saintess. As it happened, Dverg the Sword Lord and Clasys the Saintess had come from the same village.

“Clasys.” That was all Dverg said before walking past her, not bothering to answer her question.

“Huh? What was that? Wait a moment!” Clasys circled around to stand in Dverg’s way.

“What?”

“Where’re you go— Oh, the marketplace, right? In that case, I’m coming with you.”

Dverg walked on, as if wordlessly saying, “Do whatever you want.” Clasys took it as unspoken acceptance and walked beside him with light steps. When they arrived at the marketplace, they parted for a while, with Clasys heading off as Dverg made a beeline for the greengrocer.

“Please exchange all this wheat for molmo.”

The greengrocer shot the shabbily dressed boy a glance before wordlessly proceeding with the trade. When the grocer was finished, Dverg shouldered the basket again and turned around to head back. To his surprise, however, he found Clasys right in front of him, apparently already done with her own shopping.

“Well, let’s go!” Clasys said cheerfully, whirling around to face the road. Unfortunately, she happened to bump into a rough-looking man who had been walking by with a swagger.

“Ah!” she cried as she was sent flying from the collision.

“The fuck? Look where you’re goin’, brat.”

Dverg’s eyes narrowed at the sight of a full-grown man—who was likely one of the hoodlums in the village, based on his getup—hurling abuse at a little girl who was not even ten years old after making her fall down. Before he could do anything else, Dverg wordlessly walked up and positioned himself in between the two, his basket still on his back.

“Huh? The fuck you lookin’ at, kid?!”

The hoodlum flew into a rage from Dverg’s silent glare. He drew the wooden sword on his waist and swung it right at Dverg’s face. A dull smack rang out, drawing the attention of everyone in the marketplace. However, no one stepped up to intervene.

Seeing how Dverg had not backed up even one step from the blow and was still glaring prompted the hoodlum to swing his wooden sword again, this time using all his strength.

At the same moment, Clasys got up and jumped between the two, screaming, “Please stop it!” She kept her eyes tightly closed, waiting for the blow to fall. However, it never did.

“Th-The fuck are you doin’?!”

When Clasys opened her eyes, she saw Dverg holding the hoodlum’s sword with a single hand. The man tried to pull his weapon free, but Dverg remained so firm it was as if he had planted roots into the ground. Just as the man gave it another tug, his face entirely red, Dverg let go, causing him to stumble many steps backwards and fall hard on his rear.

The hoodlum quickly got up and ran away, his face burning from the shame of losing in a bit of tug-of-war to a child in view of so many eyes.

“Are you okay, Dverg?” Clasys asked as she put her hand over Dverg’s cheek. “Heal.”

“Hm? Mm, thank you.” Although he hadn’t even been hurt in the first place, Dverg still thanked Clasys for the healing. He had actually overcome multiple Trials of the Gods already and was much more powerful than any run-of-the-mill hoodlum.

The two youngsters walked off the way they had come, paying no mind to the stares from everyone in the marketplace.

“You’ve gotten better at using Healing Magic.”

“Aww, thanks. Everyone at the church is really good at teaching. I’m working hard so I can heal your mother one day.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you too.”

Dverg walked a little slower, matching his stride with Clasys’s.

The story of how these two defeated a red dragon and shocked the entire kingdom was still a ways off in the future.