Next day.
"Good morning."
As we were leaving the village, Rojin called out to me.
He was standing at the gate again today.
"Good morning. On gate duty again?"
"Yeah, until the hunting party gets back."
Come to think of it, the men hadn't returned even by nightfall yesterday. Which meant he might have been standing here all through the night.
It reminded me of the gatekeepers you see in RPGs.
A simple job where you just stand there all day, every day.
Still, would he really be standing guard alone until they came back? Oh—the chief would be there too. In a settlement like this, the chief would surely be working hard as well.
"Leaving already?"
"Yes. We settled everything yesterday."
"I wanted to hear about my daughter, though..."
"I'd love nothing more, but we really can't afford to take it easy."
"Is that so..."
He looked disappointed. For my part, I'd have loved to hear more about
"I'll be sure to pass along your message if I see her."
"I'm counting on you..."
As he bowed his head, I made a mental note to remember to pass along his regards when I met Roxy.
"Oh, right. Wait here for a moment."
As if something had just occurred to him, Rojin turned and ran into the village.
He disappeared into one of the houses—presumably Roxy's old home—and returned a few minutes later with a young woman who bore a strong resemblance to Roxy.
If they just wanted to call someone over, couldn't they use telepathy?
That was my thought, but she was carrying something that looked like a sword. Were they giving it to me?
"This is my wife."
"I'm Locarie."
Roxy's mother, apparently.
"I'm
Without these people, I never would have made it out into the world. Thinking that, I naturally bowed my head.
"Young? I'm already a hundred and two this year."
"Still, that's plenty young."
For reference: the Migurd tribe reaches full physical maturity around age ten and then their appearance barely changes until around a hundred and fifty.
"Miss Roxy has been a great help to me."
"Miss... Has she really ever been in a position to teach anyone anything?"
"She taught me a great many things I didn't know."
When I said that with a smile, Locarie blushed and went "Oh my." She seemed to be misunderstanding something.
"I'm just glad you happened to come by while I was on gate duty."
"Yes. I'm so glad we got to meet. Roxy really has been wonderful to us. Actually, would it be all right if I called you father-in-law?"
"Ha ha ha... Don't do that."
He turned down the offer with a completely straight face.
That stung a little. But that deadpan expression was so Roxy-like that it brought back a wave of nostalgia.
"All jokes aside, take this."
Rojin said this and extended a sword.
"No matter how capable
"I'm not completely unarmed, you know..."
That said, I accepted the weapon and drew it from its sheath.
Single-edged, broad blade. About sixty centimeters long, on the smaller side. Slightly curved.
More like a cutlass than a machete, I'd say.
There were signs of age in the scratches and wear at various points, but the edge was pristine. The blade was clean and well-maintained, but it seemed to exude a dull, murderous gleam.
Overall it was a dark gray, though it caught a faint green sheen where the light hit it.
"I got it from a blacksmith who stopped by the village once. I've used it for years and it hasn't dulled once—sturdy as they come. Feel free to use it."
"I gratefully accept."
There was no point in being polite. We were in no position to refuse. Take what's offered.
Forget about me—at least
"Also, here's some money. It's not a lot, but it should be enough to stay at an inn for two or three days."
Yay, pocket money.
I opened the pouch and found crude coins made of stone alongside dull metallic ones.
Right. The currencies of the Demon Continent were green ore coins, iron coins, scrap iron coins, and stone coins—four types total.
In terms of value, they were the lowest in the world. Even the most expensive, the green ore coin, was roughly equivalent to or slightly less than a single large
An iron coin was about the same as a copper coin.
For reference, here's a rough conversion of Asura Kingdom and Demon Continent currencies to Japanese yen, with the cheapest stone coin set at one yen: ============================== Asura gold coin: 100,000 yen Asura silver coin: 10,000 yen Asura large copper coin: 1,000 yen Asura copper coin: 100 yen Green ore coin: 1,000 yen Iron coin: 100 yen Scrap iron coin: 10 yen Stone coin: 1 yen ============================== A single glance at those numbers tells you just how powerful a nation Asura is, and just how harsh life on the Demon Continent can be.
Of course, the Demon Continent had its own economy. The demon race weren't necessarily poor by their own standards.
"...Thank you."
"Honestly, I would have liked to spend more time talking about Roxy."
Locarie said the same thing Rojin had.
They were worried about their daughter, as expected. She'd said she was forty-four, but by human standards, that would be... about twenty years old, wouldn't it?
If you could call that worrying, then yes—they were worried.
"Would you like us to stay another day?"
I offered, but Rojin shook his head.
"It's fine. As long as we know she's safe. Right?"
"Yes. She's... not the sort who did well in this village."
Not doing well. That was surely because of the telepathy issue.
You couldn't really hear conversations in the village. Everyone communicated silently.
They were all using telepathy.
Roxy had told me she couldn't use it.
When you can't join in conversations, can't hear what others are saying—yes, running away from home starts to make sense.
"All right then. Let's meet again sometime."
"Yeah. But don't call me father-in-law, okay?"
"Ha ha ha, of course not."
I'd been firmly warned.
I wasn't sure if I'd ever see Roxy again, but someday I'd come back to repay them—at least the money.
--- It was a three-day walk to the nearest town.
On the very first day, I felt the importance of having Ruijerd in the party.
I was glad I'd recruited him.
Having traveled alone for so many years, Ruijerd knew the roads and handled camp preparations flawlessly.
And of course, with his biological radar, scouting was a piece of cake.
This man was just too convenient.
"Would you mind teaching us various things?"
"What's the point of learning?"
"We'll put it to use."
And so, over the next three days, Eris and I would learn wilderness survival from Ruijerd, aiming to master the art of camping.
"First, the campfire. But on the Demon Continent, there's no firewood to be found."
Hmm. Come to think of it, when I first met Ruijerd, a campfire had been the very first thing.
"What do we do?"
"Hunt monsters."
On the Demon Continent, you had to hunt monsters to make a living—period.
"There's a good one right over there. Wait here."
"Whoa, hold on!"
I grabbed Ruijerd's shoulder to stop him as he was about to dash off.
"What?"
"You're not going to fight alone, are you?"
"Yeah. Hunting is a warrior's duty. You kids wait here."
I see. So Ruijerd fully intended to keep doing things this way from now on.
Well, from Ruijerd's perspective—having lived for over five hundred years—we weren't just kids. We weren't even close to being grandchildren.
Besides, Ruijerd was absurdly strong. It would probably be fine to let him handle everything.
But what if something went wrong?
For some reason, Ruijerd became unable to fight. Or if he died.
Eris and I, with virtually zero combat experience, would be left behind.
We could be deep in a forest. We could be facing a fearsome monster.
To survive in those moments, we needed to build up real combat experience now.
So I had to find a way to get him to teach us how to fight...
No. That way of thinking was wrong.
Our relationship was give and take. Equal.
Not "let him teach us," but "build a fighting partnership together."
"We're not children."
"No, you are children."
"Come on, Ruijerd."
I called him by name in a firm tone. He was getting things a bit wrong. I needed to make our positions clear.
We weren't in a hierarchy. Neither of us was above the other.
"We help you, and you help us. We may have different goals, but we're companions who fight together—equal... warriors, right?"
I looked Ruijerd in the eye, doing my best to look fierce.
Ten, maybe fifteen seconds of struggle.
Ruijerd's decision came quickly.
"...Fine. You're a warrior."
He said it with an exasperated expression, but this meant I could practice dangerous things under a guardian's supervision.
"Naturally, Eris will be fighting too. Okay?"
"O-of course!"
Eris had been staring blankly with wide eyes, but she nodded eagerly. Good, good. What a good girl.
"Then, Ruijerd—please guide us to the monsters."
My tough act was over. Negotiations had to be done with confidence, after all.
--- The first one we took on was a Stone Trent.
A Trent, in a word, was a tree monster—a tree that absorbed magical energy, mutated, and began attacking people. People collectively called them Trents.
It was a vague classification, so the types were varied. First, there was the Lesser Trent, found across the world. These were saplings that had transformed, essentially camouflaging themselves as trees to ambush passersby. They were weak in both strength and speed, and a typical adult male could chop one down with an axe even without training.
If a Lesser Trent drew nutrients from a fairy spring in a great forest, it would transform into an Elder Trent, gaining the ability to use water magic thanks to the extremely dense magical concentration of the fairy spring.
There was also the Old Trent, which was a great tree that had transformed, and the Zombie Trent, a dead tree that had mutated.
The list went on. But the basic pattern was the same: disguise as a tree, ambush anyone who got close, and if left alone, drop seeds and reproduce on their own.
However, the Stone Trent was a bit special. It camouflaged as rock.
You might wonder how a tree does that. But there was nothing strange about it.
The Stone Trent was a monster from its seed stage. Normally it took the form of a large seed—when a person approached, it would instantaneously transform into a tree and attack.
Calling it a "seed" might be misleading. It didn't look like a sunflower seed or anything recognizable. It was round and rough, like a rock you'd find lying on the ground. A potato might be the closest comparison.
"Are there any things to watch out for when fighting it?"
"Rudeus—you're a mage, right?"
"Yes."
"Then don't use fire."
"It's not effective?"
"If it burns, it won't serve as firewood."
"I see."
"And skip water too."
"Because it gets harder to use as firewood when it's wet?"
"Exactly."
So Ruijerd's only concern with this monster was firewood. Got it.
"Then let me and Eris take a crack at it first. If Eris gets into trouble, step in."
"Is there any point in me not fighting?"
"For now, we don't know how well we can handle things. After that, we'd like to watch you fight solo and use it as reference."
"Fine."
And so it was decided.
Eris would be the vanguard, and I the rear guard. This was based on assessing Eris's swordsmanship.
I wasn't thrilled about sending my dear, dear Eris to the front. But she wasn't very useful in a support role—she couldn't coordinate well with others.
And for the record, Ruijerd didn't need support.
So the ideal setup was to let Eris fight freely, with Ruijerd and me providing backup.
"Alright, Eris. I'll fire off a big one from range, so finish off anything I weaken. I'll call out the spell names when I can, but in a pinch I might skip that, so be ready."
"Got it!"
Eris checked the feel of her newly acquired sword and nodded with full enthusiasm. Her fighting spirit was on point.
Good. I readied my staff.
Fire and water were out. Looking at the thing, wind probably wouldn't be very effective either. So earth it was.
I was good at earth magic. After all, I'd spent ages making figures.
But this would be my first time using magic against a monster. Let's go all out from the start.
I took a deep breath.
Gathered magic power at the tips of my fingers.
A process I'd repeated tens of thousands of times.
Now, even if my legs were severed, I could still cast.
Alright.
Generate: shell-type rock projectile Hardness: as hard as possible Deformation: flatten the tip, add grooves and indentations Transformation: high-speed rotation Size: slightly larger than a fist Speed: as fast as possible "Stone Cannonball!"
From the tip of my staff, a rock projectile tore through the air with a thunderous whoosh, flying nearly horizontal and slamming directly into the camouflaged Stone Trent.
BOOOOOM!!
The explosion was so loud it made me want to cover my ears, and the Trent burst apart.
Eris had started running the moment she saw the projectile launch, but she skidded to a stop the instant it hit.
She turned to glare at me with a sulky expression.
"What do you mean 'weaken it'! You want me to hack at a corpse!?"
"S-sorry, it's my first time and I don't know my own strength!"
"Ugh!"
I'd basically dampened her first real combat experience, and she was not happy about it.
Still—I didn't expect a one-shot kill. I'd only modified a regular stone cannonball to be more like a hollow-point round... but it seemed the people of this world really knew how to think up terrifying things.
I suddenly felt Ruijerd's gaze on me.
"That staff—is it a magical tool?"
He was staring at my staff.
"No, it's just a regular staff. Well, the materials are supposedly quite expensive."
"But you didn't use any incantation or magic circle?"
"If I don't cast without incantation, I can't shape the projectile properly."
"...I see."
Ruijerd fell silent. Even after five hundred years of life, silent casting was apparently rare for him.
"So... was that your most powerful spell?"
"No, I could also trigger an explosion on impact."
"When your allies are near the enemy, you shouldn't use that."
"No kidding."
It was my first time hitting a target, but the destructive power exceeded even my expectations. Even a graze could be lethal.
It would be nice to have some support-oriented magic, but I'd always been thinking about solo combat, and I couldn't come up with anything on the spot.
How did the mages of this world fight, anyway?
"Ruijerd, if I were to provide magic support, what kind of movement should I aim for?"
"No idea. I've never fought alongside a mage before."
Well, Ruijerd was a battle-hardened Superd. He'd have no reason to mimic other parties.
We could figure out the coordination as we went along. For now, let's focus on gaining combat experience.
"I hate to ask, but could you scout again?"
"Yeah... but there's something to do first."
"Something to do?"
Was he going to pray for the kill or something?
"Firewood collection. It's scattered all over the place."
We gathered the firewood using wind magic.
--- After that, we had four more battles before nightfall while on the move.
A Stone Trent, an Emperor Tortoise, an Acid Wolf, and a pack of Pax Coyotes.
Ruijerd killed the Emperor Tortoise in a single blow.
A direct frontal strike straight through the crown of the skull. Clean and elegant.
So this was the skill of a man who'd been hunting monsters solo for five hundred years since the founding. I felt a little embarrassed about being so pleased with myself for bursting that Stone Trent apart.
The Acid Wolf was a wolf that spit acid from its mouth. There was only one, so Eris took it down.
A sharp lunge, a flash, and the head went flying. Sloppy compared to Ruijerd, but still a one-shot kill.
Eris was splattered with blood and making a bitter face. I'd worried the acid might make the blood dangerous too, but it seemed fine.
"Good enough for a first real fight," was Ruijerd's assessment.
The second Stone Trent, incidentally, I killed instantly. I'd been trying to weaken it with magic, but adjusting the power was tricky. Delivering damage without killing—I'd wanted to give Eris some combat experience, but I kept overpowering things. Until I could calibrate properly, I probably shouldn't use it on living targets either. And even in situations where killing was necessary, I'd rather not see anything that gory.
And now.
We were in the middle of a fight with a pack of Pax Coyotes.
Pax Coyotes formed groups of several dozen. They weren't pack hunters, exactly—they reproduced by splitting.
Not during battle, mind you. They split once every few months, and the leader maintained complete control over all the copies. Thus they kept multiplying.
Even if you killed the original, the other copies would take over leadership and continue fighting.
Numbers were power. Being able to swarm under unified control was more than strong enough.
Twenty Pax Coyotes.
That was enough to kill an average adventurer.
Eris was trading blows while taking instruction from Ruijerd. Ruijerd seemed to enjoy having a student.
Despite this being Eris's first real battle, she wasn't particularly nervous. Her expression radiated confidence—like she was saying, "I've practiced enough for this"—as she cut down Pax Coyote after Pax Coyote.
She showed no hesitation about killing living things. Well, I'd known she wasn't that kind of soft-hearted girl.
I was watching from the sidelines. I'd been thinking about stepping in if things got dicey, but Ruijerd's support was godlike. Anything I did might only make things worse.
Still, it was kind of lonely being left out.
I needed to figure out some good tactics, and fast.
But Eris really was strong. Ultimately, she'd reached the upper ranks of the Sword God style just before my birthday, hadn't she? Lately, I felt I couldn't win without using magic. Upper rank—the same as
That said, the Water God and North God styles also had upper ranks, so Paul was probably still above her. The difference in combat experience mattered too. But Guileen had said Eris's talent surpassed Paul's. She'd surpass him eventually.
Serves you right, Paul.
"Rudeus! Over here!"
Ruijerd called out to me. Before I knew it, the Pax Coyotes had been wiped out.
"Pax Coyote pelts sell well. Let's skin them. Didn't expect this many, though—lucky us."
Ruijerd said this as he pulled out a knife. For him, more creatures simply meant more loot.
"Give me a second."
I told Ruijerd that and walked over to Eris.
"Haa... haa..."
Eris had about three minor injuries and was breathing hard. The fight had lasted maybe five minutes, but since Ruijerd had stayed in a support role the whole time, Eris had done almost all the killing. She'd be tired.
"Healing Aura."
I healed her wounds for the time being.
"Thanks."
"You okay?"
"Ha! Piece of cake... mgh."
She grinned proudly, but there was dried blood on her face, so I wiped it off with my sleeve.
Still, Eris was remarkably composed for someone who'd just been through their first real battle. Was it natural talent? The smell of blood was making me feel sick.
"Piece of cake? This was your first real fight, wasn't it?"
"Doesn't matter. Guileen taught me everything."
Practice like it's the real thing. The real thing like it's practice. That kind of deal.
Eris was honest and straightforward, so she could execute her training at full performance even under real combat conditions. If the practice was done right, it apparently didn't matter if the opponent was bleeding.
"Good grief..."
I smiled wryly and returned to Ruijerd.
He'd been watching our exchange intently.
"What's the point of having Eris do all the fighting?"
"I can't protect her forever. When push comes to shove, she needs to be able to protect herself."
"Fair enough."
"By the way, Ruijerd—how is Eris? Skill-wise?"
I asked while he showed me how to skin a pelt.
Ruijerd nodded.
"If she trains hard, she could become a top-tier warrior."
"Really!? Yes!"
Eris jumped up, beaming. Of course she'd be happy—she'd just been praised by a legendary hero.
And for me, this was good news too. If Ruijerd recognized Eris's talent, we could maintain a close working relationship going forward.
"Ruijerd. From now on, I'd like to fight with Eris as the vanguard and me in the rear."
"What about me?"
"Roving support. Fight freely while covering our blind spots. And if anything dangerous happens, shout out orders."
"Got it."
And just like that, our formation was decided.
Over the next few days, Eris and I would steadily build up combat experience.
--- And then, camp.
Dinner was Emperor Tortoise meat. We couldn't finish it, so per Ruijerd's instructions, more than half was made into dried meat.
Emperor Tortoise meat.
I'll say it straight—it wasn't good.
Quite gamey, and tough. Apparently you were supposed to simmer it for a long time under normal circumstances. But Ruijerd had gone for the quick method: grilling it over the campfire.
Speaking of campfires—Stone Trents, when killed, dried out and became completely brittle. That meant they could be used as firewood without needing to be dried first. I now understood why Ruijerd had viewed them as nothing more than firewood.
...
Still. The meat was bad.
Who was it that said Emperor Tortoise meat was delicious? Ruijerd, it was you.
You needed ginger and stuff to cut the gaminess before it was even edible.
Oh, how I missed beef. Rice and beef.
There was a line in a manga I'd read before I died: "Yakiniku is great. It's great because it's delicious." A phrase that perfectly captured how yakiniku that isn't delicious has no greatness whatsoever.
Come to think of it, meals in the Asura Kingdom had been wonderful. Bread-centered, sure, but with meat, fish, vegetables, and dessert—it had been like a three-star restaurant. I was from the countryside and even I'd had it that good. Eris, who'd grown up as a noble, must have really struggled.
Or so I thought. But she was eating away with a perfectly content expression, munching happily.
"This is actually pretty good, you know."
No way.
Wait—could this be like how a kid who's only ever been fed fancy food suddenly thinks junk food tastes amazing?
"What?"
"Oh, nothing. Is it good?"
"Mm! I always dreamed of eating something like this, you know. Munch munch."
Apparently, she'd heard stories from Guileen about cooking meat over a campfire and had always wanted to try it.
Of all the things to romanticize.
"Raw isn't out of the question either."
At Ruijerd's words, Eris's eyes lit up.
"Don't you dare."
I desperately stopped her just as she was about to try it.
What if there were parasites? Seriously...
--- Before bed, Ruijerd was teaching Eris how to maintain a sword.
I listened in too, for the record.
Ruijerd's spear wasn't made of metal, and Eris's sword had been forged from a special metal using a special technique, so neither was prone to rust.
But maintenance was still necessary, he said. Leaving blood and grime on the blade would attract other monsters, dull the edge, and—more importantly—as a warrior, managing your weapon was simply expected.
"That reminds me—what's your spear made of?"
I'd been curious, so I asked.
The Superd tribe's trident spear. Pure white, short, with no decoration—the shaft and blade were a single piece.
"It's me."
"...I'm sorry?"
"The spear is made from the soul of a Superd."
Quite the philosophical answer.
Right, right. I see. Of course. Life is, in essence, the soul. The spear is the soul, which is life. Life is the heart. The heart is love. Ruijerd's love was channeled into his spear.
"The Superd are born with a spear."
When I looked confused, Ruijerd explained.
Apparently, the Superd were born with a three-pronged tail. It grew alongside them, and at a certain age, it would suddenly harden and separate from the body.
Even after separating, the spear remained a part of the Superd. The more it was used, the sharper it became.
A spear that never broke, that nothing could shatter, that could pierce anything—the ultimate weapon.
...With the caveat that it depended on how the owner trained with it.
"That's why you can never let go of your spear until death."
There it was—the face of a man who regretted a mistake made four hundred years ago.
His spear was probably harder and sharper than any other Superd's.
Reassuring. But that kind of thinking wasn't healthy, you know. Stubbornness meant refusing to accept others. Refusing to accept others meant others couldn't accept you either.
Dangerous mindset, that.
--- In the blink of an eye, three days had passed, and we arrived at the town.