Nozomanu Fushi no Boukensha (LN) - Volume 5 - Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The Journey 

“Anything left to do? Have you forgotten anything?” 

Lorraine stood at the entrance to her house early in the morning and asked me as if she were my mother. I remembered all the business I had wrapped up over the last few days, including delivering Dragon Blood Blossoms to Laura and relaying Idoles’s message to Rina. Everything was taken care of. Probably. The problem when it came to forgetting things was you forgot them. Maybe there was something I wouldn’t remember no matter how hard I tried. That was worrisome, but if I couldn’t remember, it must not have been that important. 

“Well, I don’t think so. If there is, I’ll think about it when we get back home,” I said, repeating what so many forgetful men had said before. 

Lorraine looked fed up. “At least put the slightest effort into remembering. But it’s not like we’ll be gone forever, I suppose. That’s fine, let’s get going,” she said and opened the door. 

It was time to travel to my hometown of Hathara. 

Maalt was far from the center of the country, but it was still big enough to be called a city. Nothing compared to the capital, of course, but a fair number of travelers passed through it. Many carriages were halted near the gate to Maalt, their coachmen shouting from their seats. A good amount of people wanted to get on the carriages, paying the coachmen en masse. It was a lively sight. 

Most of them were heading to cities in the west. Each section of the station had carriages that went to different cities, so once you got used to the place, it wasn’t hard to find what you were looking for. The coachmen yelled only so those who didn’t live in Maalt could more easily find them. Lorraine and I had nothing to do with that thriving scene, going instead to an area of almost dead silence. 

“Is this it?” Lorraine asked when we stopped at a carriage. 

“Yeah,” I replied and nodded. “It always makes me anxious, though. I can’t believe this thing can make it to Hathara.” I had ridden it there plenty of times, but every time I saw it, I worried all over again. Where most carriages were drawn by horse, this one used a giant tortoise. Horses were the stereotypical animal employed by carriages, but other animals could be used as well. It was still mostly horses, but depending on the route and the speed required, there were sometimes better options. 

After horse-drawn carriages, the next most common were dragon carriages, which used an animal similar in shape to a horse but was actually related to drakes. They were faster than horses, had more stamina, and didn’t fear monsters. However, more than one horse could be used at once, and they were easier to handle thanks to being less powerful. Overall, horses were still more convenient, so these drake creatures were used only when speed was of the utmost importance. They were also too expensive for commoners; they were meant more for nobles and knights. 

This carriage, however, used an animal called a giant tortoise. They were stronger than horses, but they were also slower. The trade-off was their extreme durability. They could hide in their shells if any monsters attacked, so they were often used for dangerous or mountainous roads. The route to Hathara wasn’t as well-maintained as the road to the west, and it was much steeper, so giant tortoises were ideal. Regardless, it was hard to see them as anything but a huge tortoise. You would think it’d take over a century to reach my hometown. In reality, though they were somewhat slower than horses, they walked fast enough. Their legs were longer than that of a normal tortoise, giving them a mildly amusing appearance. 

“It always makes it there, right? Then why worry? Now, where’s the coachman? Oh, there he is,” Lorraine said, spotting an old man. 

While all the coachmen were shouting in the previous section, this one was smoking a pipe and reclining against his carriage. He didn’t seem enthusiastic at all, but I could understand that. There was little point in shouting out to people heading east. There were only so many, and most of them were also in the transportation business, so it was a waste of energy. 

“Old man, we want a ride to Hathara. What do you charge?” Lorraine asked. 

The old man looked up. “Five silver coins. You’ll get lunch, but if you want more food than that, get it from the towns we stop at on the way. We’ll go when more people arrive, so wait around till then,” he said. 

It was hard to say if five silver coins was cheap or not, but Hathara was just about the final stop. Considering it took about a week to get there and lunch was included, it was likely on the cheaper side. The westbound carriages were even cheaper. More people traveled west, so they had more passengers. Plus, they had a paved road to tread, so it took less time to travel the same distance compared to eastbound carriages. It was inconvenient to live in the middle of nowhere in more ways than one, so I seldom returned home. I had no money, and walking back would be brutal. 

“Then one gold coin should cover both of us. Here you are,” Lorraine said and paid right away. I took out five silver coins to give to Lorraine, but she stopped me. “Pay me when we get home. I don’t need more coins to carry around,” she insisted. She acted more manly than I did. Maybe I was just effeminate. I felt bad, but I could just do what she asked and pay her on the way back. That, or I could pay for our meals in town. 

The fun of journeys was to eat delicacies you could only get abroad. There was often the typical peasant food, but sometimes you found something special that the locals thought nothing of but turned out to be incredibly rare cuisine. Examples included great winter frog eggs and fried curtis mants, a type of killer mantis. Both were delicious, but they looked terrifying to eat. They would probably be available at the towns along the way, so I could make Lorraine try them. 

“Now I guess we wait. I’m looking forward to this,” Lorraine said. 

“Yeah, me too,” I agreed. 

What was Lorraine going to say about these delicacies? Maybe it would be cruel to have her eat them. She was from the city, so they could be rough for her. I imagined it as we waited for people to arrive. 

“It’s time to go. Get on,” the coachman said after a number of passengers gathered. 

We got in the back and looked at the others around us. Including us, there were six passengers in all. I didn’t know if that was a lot or a little. There was a young girl with a middle-aged man, an old married couple, and that was it. The old couple could have been a pair of amazing mages, but I didn’t sense the least bit of mana, so they probably weren’t. That or they were so monstrously powerful they could hide all their mana, but again, not likely. 

Given where we were going, though, the coachman at least must have had some combat talent. Monsters seldom appeared on paths created by humans, but it did happen. Monsters weren’t the only danger on the road either. There were thieves too, so we would have to fend them off if it came down to it. We couldn’t make old people and young girls fight. Lorraine was young, I supposed, but she was a skilled adventurer and mage. Making her fight was fine. 

The coachman sat in his seat with a whip in hand. When he struck the tortoise’s shell, it woke up and began to lumber forward. It was painfully slow, but only until it left the city. 

“This is my first time on a tortoise carriage. I’m surprised it’s so fast,” Lorraine said, a bit impressed. 

I looked out from beneath the canopy and saw the scenery scrolling by at a considerable pace. It was certainly faster than running by foot. I popped my head out of the driver’s side to check out the giant tortoise, and its legs moved at a brisker pace than any tortoise I had ever seen. It was slow to start, but it accelerated to a decent speed. Their horsepower was the reason they were valued. They were also mild-mannered and could take a beating. Still, they could bear to be a little faster. 

“This is as far as we go for the day. Sorry you’ll have to camp outside, but we’re far from any town. There aren’t many monsters around, so it should be safe,” the coachman said and stopped the carriage. 

Of the passengers, only Lorraine looked shocked. “I see, so this is what it’s like for rural people,” she remarked insultingly. 

I admit I was somewhat annoyed by what she said, but, at the same time, I could see where she was coming from. The road to the west had only half a day’s travel between each town. This would never happen on the way to a big city, but we were on a road to the countryside, so the first day of travel always ended like this. They could have built more small villages on the way, but the ones that existed here decades ago were destroyed by monsters. The monsters in question were slain at the time, but the survivors didn’t want to live in the area anymore, so they moved either to Maalt or further west. This land had been left uninhabited ever since. 

Memories of that disaster had faded over time, so someone could take the initiative to start up a new village, but people like that only appeared so often. It wasn’t easy. 

“You’ve done plenty of camping, haven’t you?” I asked Lorraine. 

“I guess so. You dragged me around and made me learn to camp back in the day, so there’s that,” she replied. 

It almost sounded like she was holding a grudge, but it was a joke, of course. I did actually drag her around though. Lorraine couldn’t do anything back then. Now she was brilliant and adept at everything, but at the time she didn’t even know how to gather wood to start a fire. She knew some spells but had never thought about how to use them in everyday life. That was why she couldn’t camp on her own, but now she was handy to have around. 

“Mr. Coachman, should we cook dinner?” Lorraine asked. 

“We’ve got some dried meat, but you can do that if you want,” he answered. 

“Then we will. For three bronze coins, we can make something for you too.” 

“Hm, then do that, if you don’t mind,” he said and handed Lorraine the coins. She asked the same of the other passengers and collected their money. 

“Let’s get cooking, Rentt,” she instructed. 

Before we had left town, we bought up a fair amount of food. It was a bit marked up in price, but it was no serious loss for us. I pulled food and a cooking pot out of my magic bag and began to prepare while Lorraine drew a magic circle on the ground. Then she cast a brief spell and conjured fire. The other passengers looked on with fascination. 

Mages weren’t hard to come by if you looked for them, but they seldom revealed their magic to others. Spells for use in daily life in particular wouldn’t usually be used while camping, as it could be a waste of mana. But Lorraine had a lot of mana, and her magic circles were as simplified as possible, so they were efficient enough they hardly cost energy. At least, I assumed so. I didn’t know that much about Lorraine’s magic, so there was a lot I couldn’t say for certain. Whatever the case, this was easy for her. The magic circle itself used elementary knowledge, but it looked beautifully crafted. If I learned from Lorraine, I could do the same eventually. Presumably. 

When I had to camp on my own, I would start a bonfire without a magic circle. Usually I did it by casting a spell on a piece of tinder, but it consumed too much mana to keep the fire going, especially back when I didn’t have much mana to begin with. Lorraine’s method was more common among adventurers due to the importance of conserving mana. 

Anyway, while I was thinking about all this, we finished preparing to cook. I put the ingredients in the pot and told Lorraine to cast a spell. It caused the ground to rise up and take the form of a hearth. I set the pot on top of it, and then Lorraine used magic to fill it with water. I could have done the same, but I feared I might accidentally overflow the pot, so I left it to Lorraine again. She inserted the exact amount of water we needed, checked the contents of the pot, and closed the lid. Once it finished boiling, we would have a hastily produced but fairly tasty stew. You could hardly call this cooking if you got it at a restaurant in town, but while camping, it was a decent feast. 

Some time later, we took off the lid and let out the steam, along with a nice aroma. The father and daughter, the old couple, and the coachman all watched with anticipation. We handed out bowls of stew, along with ham and cheese sandwiches on rye bread. 

“All right, shall we eat?” Lorraine asked, and we all dug in. 

The old couple prayed before they began, but I couldn’t hear what they said. It was probably a prayer from some regional religion. When you’re away from civilization, you see villages with all sorts of strange gods. I didn’t criticize them for it, or think much of it beyond remarking on how deep their faith must have been. I didn’t even know what god the shrine in my village was meant for. 

The stew was favorably received, so much so the group was willing to pay for our meals the rest of the way to our destination. That was what we bought all the food for in the first place, so it was fine by us. My magic bag had enough space to fit a giant tarasque, so storing a week’s worth of food for six people was simple. 

When dinner ended, the time to watch for monsters had come. The area was relatively safe, but it wasn’t devoid of threats. Watchmen were necessary. There was only one coachman in this case, so the passengers with the most stamina would have to take turns standing guard. That meant me, Lorraine, and the middle-aged man. Honestly, I was the most fit for the job thanks to my lack of a need for sleep, but I couldn’t point out I was undead, so the coachman and the rest of us switched places periodically. First was the coachman, then the middle-aged man, then Lorraine, and lastly me. I slept just a tiny bit during the coachman’s turn and stayed up the rest of the time. Lorraine and I chatted around the campfire until something caught our attention. 

“I think we have uninvited guests,” Lorraine whispered. 

I sensed someone in the woods behind us. 

We stared at the forest until we knew what they were. 

“They don’t seem to be people. More like the remains of people,” Lorraine muttered sympathetically. 

“A few decades of death doesn’t mean much to the undead. Maybe if you’re the sort that needs to consume something to live like I do, but not these ones.” 

“Right.” 

They were zombies. 

Lorraine and I observed the putrid walking corpses. They had tattered clothes, bamboo spears, and hoes. These monsters were called zombies, and they were another type of undead. They differed from me in that I was a vampire and required the energy derived from blood to survive, but zombies had no such limits. Perhaps in exchange, zombies tended to be brittle and weak. 

That being said, they were still a great threat to ordinary humans. Scholars believed living creatures avoided placing too much stress on their bodies by structurally preventing themselves from exerting their full strength, but zombies were already dead. Their bodies could move and stretch in otherwise impossible ways. Their heads spun all the way around, and their limbs flailed as if they had no joints. These attributes could even make them a surprising nuisance for adventurers. 

However, the biggest reason to avoid them was their stench and their filthy bodies. They often carried diseases. It would be fine if they wandered around at random, but we couldn’t let them near the camp. They had to be defeated right away. Lorraine and I were quick to come to the same conclusion. That left the question of how to beat them. 

“Will magic work?” I asked Lorraine. 

“Well, probably. You’ll get contaminated if you fight them, so this looks like a job for me,” she said. 

Lorraine pulled out her wand and approached the zombies. She waved her wand around as she drew near. I wondered what she was doing, but then I noticed the wind began to blow from us toward the zombies. She cast a spell with no incantation. It was a low-level spell, but to cast it like it was nothing displayed Lorraine’s skill. I could do the same, but only with the couple of life spells I had used repeatedly over the last decade, so that wasn’t saying much. Those spells didn’t require much restraint. That wasn’t the case for the spell Lorraine used, though. It had to be kept stable to continue blowing wind, so it must have been difficult. The point was to keep the stench or any stray chunks of zombie flesh from flying toward us. 

When Lorraine arrived in front of the zombies, they began to circle around her. Signs of life had drawn them to our camp, but their eyesight seemed poor. They showed no interest in me or anything else around the carriage and instead focused solely on Lorraine. Because there could be more waiting for an ambush, I remained on guard but noticed nothing around me. Zombies weren’t smart enough to sneak up on anyone, either. There was no reason to worry too much. I did sense some more zombies in the distance, but they were steadily decreasing in number for some reason, so they weren’t an issue. Maybe they were killing each other, maybe they were fighting bandits, or maybe they ran into other adventurers. For the time being, I chose to remain cautious, but it was best to turn my attention to Lorraine. 

“Yes, this should be good enough,” Lorraine said once she was surrounded. “Nobody else is nearby? Good. ‘Wind, I command you to blow. Fire, I command you to burn. Become a whirlwind that incinerates my surroundings. Paloom Igni Su Turbo,’” she chanted. 

Flames materialized around Lorraine, followed by a gust of wind. The wind swirled around the flames and created a blazing tornado. The zombies’ rotten brains seemed to still just barely work because they tried to flee from the whirlwind. But it proved too powerful; the red flames burned them to ash. 

Casting fire magic near a forest seemed suicidal, but only for an amateur mage. One of Lorraine’s caliber could control their magic well enough to prevent the fire from spreading. If I tried it, though, we would have a wildfire on our hands. The thought was so frightening I couldn’t work up the will to try. 

After a little while, all the zombies had been incinerated. The spell had fearsome power, but Lorraine was still holding back. Her incantation could have been better, and she even included a line to suppress the strength of the magic. When the blazing tornado shrunk and disappeared, Lorraine stood unharmed where it had once been. She turned toward me. 

“Rentt, come over here,” she said. 

I wondered what she wanted and walked over, finding a pile of ash and magic crystals. They clearly came from the zombies, but I would have thought they were blasted away. The level of control she had over her spells was a thing to behold, but now I saw why Lorraine called me here. 

“I thought burning them to ash would be enough, but after gathering these all together, I guess not. I could use holy water, but conveniently, I have you here. Can you take care of this?” she requested. 

In other words, the ash and the crystals were full of evil energy and miasma. I was supposed to use my power to purge it. 

Many impure monsters required purification upon defeat, which adventurers handled in a number of ways. The method Lorraine mentioned was to use holy water on the corpses. It worked well enough on all but the most powerful monsters, so this was a relatively common tactic. But most adventurers didn’t bother to do anything. Holy water cost money, and few adventurers carried it around at all times. If they took a request to vanquish impure monsters, any adventurer with common sense would bring some along, but many chose not to because it was too much effort or it would cut into their profits. 

Instead, they left the remains alone. This was a bad move because the corpses of impure monsters would curse the land they died on, eventually making it uninhabitable, like with the Swamp of Tarasque. The miasma from zombies was only strong enough to make the land around their corpses infertile for a few years, but it was still best to do something about them. That was why Lorraine gathered up all the ash in one place. She probably collected the crystals just so we could sell them later, but they required purification as well. 

When monsters were burned to ash, like in this case, purification was sometimes unnecessary. If they had been scattered by the tornado, the evil energy and miasma would be dispersed enough to make it harmless. It might make passers-by a little sick or slow the growth of plants, but nothing more than that. That still wasn’t good, but it was acceptable. 

But Lorraine was a sensible adventurer, so she kept holy water on her and would have used it if I wasn’t around. I was, though, so she didn’t need to. Holy water was expensive, so it was best to conserve when possible. In contrast, any divinity I used would eventually recover. It showed how useful divinity users could be. 

“I guess I’ll do that, then,” I said. I held my hands out to the pile of ashes and crystals and began to fill it with divinity. Both purification and healing were something I had an instinctive sense of how to do, which was a nice aspect of divinity. The proper way to do it was probably more efficient, but to learn that, I would have to join some religious organization somewhere. That, or I would have to ask a freelance divinity user. There weren’t many of them, but they did exist. 

I slowly poured more divinity until the wicked aura from the ashes and crystals dissolved into the air. It seemed to be purged, so I let out a sigh of relief. I knew how to do it, but I’d never properly learned, so I was unsure if my method was correct. It didn’t seem to cause any problems this time, at least, but there was one curiosity. 

“The walking fertilizer strikes again. This is what happens when you purify something?” Lorraine murmured as she stared at the purged ashes. 

“Stop calling me that,” I demanded. “Judging by these results, though, I have to admit it’s not inaccurate,” I responded and gazed at the ashes as well. There were sprouts growing from them, and I knew they had grown thanks to my divinity. Plants couldn’t grow on corrupted land, so this proved the purification worked, but this entry on the list of reasons to call me walking fertilizer left me astounded. 

“Oh well, it’s not like this does any harm.” Lorraine concluded. “It’s safe to pick up the magic crystals now, I take it?” 

I looked at the crystals and confirmed there was no miasma or evil energy left. “Yeah. I wouldn’t expect much money for zombie crystals, though.” 

“Probably not, but I can use them to research necromancy. They’ll be perfect for that.” 

Lorraine said it like it was nothing, but necromancy was a forbidden art of sorts. It wasn’t banned by the government, and you wouldn’t be executed for using it, but it was considered immoral. Necromancy itself was said to be a legendary technique that had been lost to time. All that remained was some ominous hearsay. That was probably the reason for Lorraine’s research, but she could very well bring back necromancy if she tried, and that was kind of a scary thought. But I didn’t expect Lorraine to be interested in that. 

“Why research necromancy?” I questioned. 

“It could help to understand the undead. Necromancy has long been forgotten, so researching the undead who continue to exist might be faster, but this could help somehow,” she answered. 

Now I understood. “So you’re doing it for me?” I asked. 

Lorraine looked at me like I was stupid for asking. “Obviously, yes. I’d rather not dabble in the forbidden arts otherwise. Well, it’s not like I’ll be executed for researching it, so it’s not as if it’ll be a serious issue,” she replied. 

It felt like I was putting a weight on her shoulders. “Sorry,” I apologized. 

“That’s not the right word for the situation, Rentt. There’s something else you could say.” 

“Right. Thanks for all your help.” 

“Please, we’re friends. Don’t worry about it.” 

Some time passed after that. 

“Oh? Someone else is here. Do we have actual humans this time?” Lorraine said. 

I noticed it too. The zombies I had sensed in the distance were gone, so this must have been what fought against them. Whatever it was that approached us, there was only one. There had been a considerable number of zombies out there, so if this was a human, they were strong enough to take them all down by themselves. This was someone with a great deal of skill. It would be fine if they were an adventurer, but if they happened to be a thief or something, it could get ugly. Lorraine and I stood on guard and prepared for what was coming. 

“A kid?” Lorraine whispered when something appeared from the forest. 

She couldn’t have been right. “Why would some ordinary kid be in the middle of nowhere?” I argued. Maybe it wasn’t completely impossible, but it was highly unlikely. It did look like a child, though, except for certain traits that stood out. 

“Methought the zombies fled this way. Mayhap you fellows smote them?” the child said in an incredibly archaic manner. It was a style of speech nobody had used since before my grandparents’ generation. We still understood what she meant, though, so we could at least communicate. There were old folks in my village who spoke like this, and Lorraine came from a world dominated by the elderly. 

“Yes, it was me who took them down. You can see their ashes right there,” Lorraine replied to the supposed child, pointing to the pile of ash. 

The child nodded. “Ash? A mage, are you? I see, you do have incredible mana. Those zombies would be but a trifle to you. Yet ’twas my failure to slay them all that let them get here. Forgive me,” she said modestly. 

That meant these monsters were her target for some reason. “What were these zombies?” I asked out of curiosity. 

“Ah, there was a village hereabouts four decades ago, where once there were villagers. Zombies need no sustenance and hence will remain until they are vanquished. Howbeit, not a soul has tread this land since, and the zombies have thus been in a dormant state all this time.” 

While zombies didn’t require any food, that made them sluggish and inactive. If nobody was around to attack, they ceased to function at all. That was called a dormant state. Something must have awakened them, presumably this child when she entered the ruins of the village. 

I didn’t know what to say about that. That was what it meant to be undead, I supposed. Undying was not the same as living. You continued to exist, but if there was nobody around to remember you, then you might as well have been dead. I thought it was beyond tragic, and my feelings must have crept into the look on my face because the child got the wrong idea. 

“Worry not, I buried them all so they shan’t return. ’Twould be pitiful to leave them as they were,” she said as she approached the ashes. “I happen to be a master of the divine arts, and purging evil is my specialty. Shall I also purify these ashes? Wait, hm?” 

From what she said, I thought this could lead to some trouble, but it was already too late. If she could actually use divinity, then there was no hiding it. And I knew she spoke the truth because I could see her hands were full of divinity. That explained how she could so easily hunt zombies. 

“The evil energy has already been purged? Burning them to ash wouldn’t have this effect. Did you use holy water, perchance?” she asked. 

Lorraine took out a bottle of holy water. “Yes, I carry some around for times like these.” 

The child was convinced. “Hohoh, you are wise compared to the average adventurer nowadays. The undead lurk all about, and they must be cleared away after their defeat to avoid disaster. Long ago, we all kept holy water on hand, but now— Ah, excuse my grousing.” 

“Whatever,” I replied vaguely, thinking about how she was speaking to an undead at that very moment. I wasn’t trying to hide it, but I wasn’t keen on telling a divinity user either, so I waited to see what happened. 

“’Twas all purged without a trace, though. Holy water wouldn’t be so thorough. Wait! Grass? In the ash? And ’tis giving off divinity, no less! Are you hiding something from me?!” she frantically asked. 

We had kept our distance out of caution, but she moved right next to us in an instant. It was no joke, and I didn’t need divinity to see she had remarkable skill. However, if she tried to attack, we did have some room to counterattack, so we were still fine. Either way, I sensed no hostility and saw no reason to draw my weapon. 

At any rate, Lorraine responded to the child. “We’re not trying to, but we’ve hardly had a chance to talk yet. We don’t even know each other’s names,” she said with the utmost honesty. 

We were hiding that I used divinity to purge it, technically, but nothing she told her was a lie. 

The child seemed to agree with her. “Forsooth, I have yet to introduce myself. Is that why you’re so on guard?” 

The child acted innocent, but it was all a sham judging by the deft way she approached us a moment ago. She seemed to think on her feet too. 

“Hrm, I have not seen adventurers with such backbone in some time. Tell me your names. Of course, I will start. I am Alhildis, a meager adventurer. I’m Gold-class! Behold,” the child said and presented her adventurer’s license. 

When adventurers encountered each other, this was the easiest way to establish trust. Her shining gold license appeared to be the real deal. 

We were still wary, but Alhildis kindly tossed us her license. “Check it until you’re satisfied,” she said. 

There was no reason to assume it was a fake now, but some thieves did copy adventurer’s licenses to disguise themselves. After all that had happened with her so far, that seemed implausible in this case, but I looked the license over just to be safe. 

Both Lorraine and I felt we’d suspected Alhildis too much when we otherwise wouldn’t have if not for her appearance. We analyzed the license until we determined it was legitimate and then threw it back to her. 

“Sorry we doubted you,” Lorraine said. “But you have to understand how we feel. We never see elves around these parts.” 

Yes, elves like Alhildis were extremely rare in this region. She had beautiful pointed ears and sky blue eyes. Her golden hair was cut in a medium-length bob. She had the stature of a girl around ten years old but came across like an old woman. It was impossible to not be suspicious. 

“Yea, of course. I, too, was wary because I sensed powerful magick. You’re not alone,” Alhildis said with a smile. She felt so innocent and lackadaisical that this admission came as a bit of a surprise. But only a bit of one, given elves were known for being crafty. 

Despite looking like a ten-year-old human, she could have mentally been decades, even centuries old. At that age, she was a creature beyond our comprehension. But in all honesty, so was I from their perspective. Lorraine, Alhildis, and I were all different beings from each other. That was kind of interesting, but I couldn’t bring myself to mention it. 

“That’s good to hear,” Lorraine said. “Oh, I should introduce myself too. I’m Lorraine Vivie, a scholar, adventurer, and mage. And this is—” 

“Rentt,” I interrupted. “I’m also an adventurer. My main weapon is a sword.” 

Talking about your fighting style was a standard part of introductions between adventurers. We knew how Alhildis presented herself when she showed us her license. It said she was a mage, but based on her use of divinity, that seemed to be a front. These descriptions didn’t mean much, and it wasn’t like Lorraine and I used magic or swords exclusively either. 

We showed her our licenses too, though they didn’t tell her a lot. They were good for proving your identity, but little more than that. 

“Hm, Lorraine and Rentt? I’ll try to remember. As for myself, mayhap Alhildis is too long a name. I ask you call me Hilde or Hildi,” Alhildis said. 

Lorraine and I looked at each other. “Hilde, then. Should we treat you as an elder, or...?” Lorraine trailed off. 

Hilde was an elf and likely far older than us. From what she said about adventurers back in the day, this was obvious. Nobody has walked around with holy water since at least my grandparents’ generation. If she was our senior, it was hard to know exactly how to speak to her. 

“Talk to me as you have been,” Hilde said. “I’m treated as a beldam all too often. As you can see, I look young for my age.” 

She looked more than a little young. I had no idea how old elves were supposed to look at any given age, though, so I looked to Lorraine to see if she knew. Her eyes told me it was beyond her. But Hilde said she was young, so we could go with that, I decided. 

Lorraine nodded and chose not to ask about her age any further. “Then how about we just treat each other like adventurers? So, Hilde, why are you here?” she asked. 

Depending on Hilde’s answer, we could end up in a fight, but after the cordial conversation, I hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Besides which, while she seemed to be messing around, she had to be powerful. These kinds of people were always insanely strong when it came to adventurers. She was Gold-class, meaning she rivaled Nive, if not surpassed her. Elves also lived long enough lives to learn a plethora of skills, and they had spirit magic particular to their race. I didn’t want to get on her bad side. Lorraine asked about her objective in the hope of ensuring we were safe, and I felt the same way. I didn’t know if Hilde guessed our intentions or not, but she replied in a sincere tone. 

“Oh, right. ’Tis a long story, but in short, I am an adventurer who hails from the capital. I took a job to restore the village of Toraka by smiting the undead who dwell here. The deed was done just moments ago when I defeated their boss, but the zombies were so great in number a few managed to flee this way. I do apologize,” she said. 

Toraka was the name of the village that was destroyed in this region many years back. I had heard about it from the adults in my hometown. Lorraine seemed to infer the same from our conversation. Hilde mentioned it fell to ruin four decades ago, a number specific enough I assumed she spoke the truth. There was nothing else around, so I couldn’t imagine why else she would be here. 

“No need to apologize, we beat them already. Well, Lorraine did, not so much me,” I said. 

“I don’t mind either,” Lorraine added. “They weren’t a big deal.” 

They probably would have been a bigger deal to everyone sleeping in the carriage. However, even if Lorraine and I hadn’t been there, the coachman could have dealt with them well enough. Maybe he would have been injured, and he couldn’t have purified the corpses, but those were the risks you had to take while on the road. 

“But were there monsters aside from these ordinary zombies? You said something about a boss,” Lorraine asked. 

“Oh, there was,” Hilde answered. “A zombie soldier, but merely a single one. ’Twas a hunter from the village, methinks. The undead retain the abilities they had in life, you see. ’Twas good with a bow, but no serious threat. That is all I have to share. What about you?” 

“We’re not on a job or anything,” I said. “Just on the way to my hometown.” 

“I see, so that carriage is headed to some village. Seeing as you’re a man and a woman, are you married? Courting?” Hilde asked intently. 

“No,” I promptly stated. “It’s complicated.” 

“I told you I’m a scholar, right?” Lorraine continued. “His village sounds interesting, so I thought I’d come along.” She spoke the truth but subtly dodged the question. 

Hilde, however, seemed to be understanding. “Forsooth, these untouched lands have ancient ruins and folktales that could prove interesting. Hm, now I know your objectives. Onto my main question, then.” 

Lorraine and I had hoped we could deceive her in the end, but from the sound of it, we had failed. 

“How did you purify these ashes? And what are these plants? Tell me, if you would be so kind.” 

All I could think about was how much I didn’t want to tell her. The more secret weapons I had in store, the easier life would be down the line. But it wasn’t as though I ever did much to hide my divinity. I didn’t think it was anything special back in the day. But now I could do much more, and nobody knew it aside from those I told about my circumstances. I thought about what to do until Hilde said something that put an end to that. 

“Howbeit, I already know the answer. Rentt, you’re a divinity user, aren’t you?” 

This surprised me a little. Only a little, because Hilde said she was a master of the divine arts. She probably had techniques I didn’t know myself. 

Hilde elaborated. “Normally I wouldn’t know, but for some time after one uses divinity, one can see some residue left in their body. It requires a close look, so apologies for invading your privacy.” 

We didn’t know if that was true or not. I’d borrowed one of Laura’s books on divine arts but hadn’t read enough to learn anything. Maybe it would have helped if I had read more. However, it was surprisingly difficult to grasp. I could imagine what magic was supposed to look like well enough to learn spells from books, but written descriptions of divine arts were often hard to grasp. At least I could get a feel for some aspects of divinity already. The biggest problem was how much of it seemed to be theoretical. Someone would have to teach me the basics before I could handle divine arts, and that sounded like it would take a long time. Without that knowledge, I had no way to tell whether Hilde was lying. Lorraine couldn’t use divinity at all, so she would have no way of seeing it. That meant we had to guess if Hilde spoke the truth from her tone and attitude. 

That turned out to be impossible. Lorraine and I looked at each other then gave up. Nothing in Hilde’s expression gave us a hint. Maybe this was typical of elves who lived for so long, or maybe this was a skill particular to Hilde. Either way, we were at a disadvantage. Even if Hilde were bluffing, I knew she was almost certain she was right. Holy water couldn’t purify as thoroughly as divinity. I didn’t realize until I became keenly able to sense it, but the stronger your divinity became, the more sensitive you were to evil energy and miasma. When you looked at it through that lens, holy water’s purification powers were inferior to divinity, or at least different in nature. Holy water was more suited to precision, and more was required to cover a wider area. Maybe you could just put it in a spray bottle, but that would probably be blasphemous. Would holy water spray bottles sell? Not right away, I’m sure, but they would certainly be useful. First, they would need to be advertised. 

Anyway, now I had to consider what to do about Hilde. After she deduced as much as she did, it was likely best to tell the truth. Her suspicious staring had gotten painful, and unlike my being a vampire, this wasn’t the kind of information that would get me killed. She might try to make me join some religion, which would be annoying, but it couldn’t be anything worse than that. 

“Yes, you’re right, I purified the ashes. I can use just a tiny bit of divinity, but I don’t know how to use divine arts or any other proper techniques with it. I don’t really believe in any gods either, so I can’t just go join any religion,” I admitted. If I could use those techniques, maybe I could have hid my divinity, frustratingly enough. 

“I knew it,” Hilde said. “Your lack of faith may be a problem.” She furrowed her brow. 

“What do you mean?” I asked. 

“As I said, your divinity is something any reasonably talented user can see. Divinity users are rare, as you no doubt know. Every religion would like more. Nobody proselytizes better than saints, so religions have fought over divinity users since time immemorial.” 

Despite that, I had yet to be scouted by any religion. Not when I met Nive and Myullias, nor when I met Lillian. Maybe they were being considerate. Lillian could simply not have known I had divinity. As for Nive and Myullias, Nive might have been too zealous to say anything about it. If she had tried to make me join her religion after all that happened, I would have said no anyway. 

“Can’t I just tell them I’m not interested?” 

“Yea. Howbeit, to do that every single time would get tiresome. There are also some who use rough methods. You had best learn to hide your divinity,” she said. 

Good advice, but I didn’t know where I would start. I read a book on divine arts and still barely understood it. The language was too unique for me to pick up anything without a lot of work. 

Hilde seemed to notice my hesitation. “I can teach you, if you wish. I belong to no religious organization,” she offered. 

That sounded true enough. Elves had their own faith, and few believed in religions started by humans. For elves, their faith was also more a part of their life. The Holy Tree was the subject of their worship. Well, not all of them, and they didn’t deny the existence of gods. It was complicated. 

At any rate, Hilde’s offer sounded good to me, but I had other business to attend to. Besides, would she teach me for free? Probably not, and I was afraid to know what she’d demand. 

“You want something in exchange, right?” I asked honestly. 

“Nay, I can’t make you do anything,” Hilde said with a smile. “May I have that grass over there, though?” 

I didn’t expect that. She referred to the grass in the ashes. There were many little sprouts. I was going to leave them and continue my journey, so it was no skin off my back. 

“Why?” I asked, still curious about her reasons. The grass gave off some mild divinity, but I didn’t see much use for it. 

“I don’t know how much to tell you, Rentt, but I presume you were blessed by a plant spirit. Therefore, plants grow from that which you purify. There were once many like you, but no longer. The number of plants that produce divinity has drastically decreased. These are rare, so I want them. Well?” 

That left me with a lot to think about. If this was all she wanted, I had little reason to refuse. Hilde might tell more people I was a divinity user, but it was too late to prevent that. She didn’t need the proof, though. Certain people would just know. 

“All right, take it. In return, teach me all about divinity.” 

Still, we had plans. There was no time to learn right away, and Hilde couldn’t have had time to teach when she was in the middle of a job. 

“I’ll teach you in full soon enough, but I can drill the basics of hiding divinity into you for now. Don’t worry, ’twill not take long. You’re on night watch duty? I can teach you before you’re done,” Hilde said. 

She sounded like a swindler I saw in town who peddled a method of losing ten kilograms in a single week. I could imagine the title of her book, Divinity For Dummies: Learning the Basics in a Single Night, Hilde-Style. It sounded sketchy to me. 

Hilde noticed me narrow my eyes. “I happen to be adept with the divine arts. I won’t show you the depths of divinity, but the surface can be scratched in but a night. Magic is similar, I believe,” Hilde argued and turned to Lorraine. 

Lorraine seemed to know what she meant. “Well, you could learn to control mana and use life magic in that time,” Lorraine said based on her experience with Alize. Certainly there were some people who could pick that up in one night. Some couldn’t, but it was a matter of talent. 

“In any case, try it. ’Twill only take till dawn. A hasty lesson to be sure, but once you get a feel for it, you can improve on your own,” Hilde said in a way I could understand. 

The divine arts were nothing like magic, so I didn’t know how it should feel to use it. Maybe I couldn’t learn in a night, but Hilde would be in the capital. Even in the worst-case scenario, I could go visit her to finish the lesson, so I decided to take her offer. 

“’Tis done. Your divinity is hidden well enough I don’t notice it. The average divinity user won’t stand a chance of finding out,” Hilde said, her back to the orange sky. 

I spent the night learning the basics of the divine arts and putting them into practice until I mastered something that at least seemed right. I could control and hide my divinity, but I wondered if these were actually the fundamentals because it wasn’t easy. I needed this to avoid problems down the line, though, so I couldn’t complain. 

“I have to keep this up all the time?” I muttered. 

“’Tis easy once you get used to it. Think of it as nonstop training till then. ’Twill feel as natural as breathing in a week at the earliest. Look,” Hilde said and unleashed her divinity. 

She’d been hiding her divinity the whole time, so I didn’t know exactly how much she had until then. Now that I saw her release it, it was dozens of times greater than mine, if not hundreds. Maybe even more than that. Nive was similar, but this destroyed any confidence I had grown since then. If she could hide all this divinity, then her claims of being a powerful divinity user were true. I had only just started to dabble in the divine arts, though, so it was hard to say for sure. 

“You have so much more than I do that I don’t know if I can follow your example.” I gave my honest impressions. 

Hilde shook her head. “If I lost out to a young buck who didn’t know the first thing about the divine arts, what good would I be? Now, this will do for the basics. Henceforth, read that book you showed me and keep up your studies. The book’s lessons are accurate, and you should have a feel for the divine arts now.” 

I didn’t know if the contents of Laura’s book were correct or worth following, so I’d asked Hilde about it. She gave it her seal of approval and said it was fine. 

“All right, but what if there’s something else I don’t understand?” 

“Then ask me. I work from the capital, so come visit if you have questions. Here is my contact information and my registration number with the guild,” Hilde said and handed me a piece of scratch paper. “Now, ’tis time I take my leave. The other passengers of your carriage may be startled if they see me. Tell Lorraine I said goodbye. I’d like to discuss academics with her sometime. Farewell.” She grabbed up the grass in the ashes and hurried away. Her gait was firm and confident. 

I almost wanted to call out to her to come back. We only just met, but she was oddly affable. 

“Is she gone?” Lorraine asked, noticing me and rubbing her eyes. She had been asleep. 

I didn’t need to sleep at all to stay healthy, but Lorraine was only human. She could likely have gotten through night watch duty and just been somewhat sleepy, but the road ahead was going to get even rockier, so she wouldn’t be able to sleep in the carriage. Monsters were most likely to appear from here on as well. If she fought while tired, then she might hit me on accident, and that wasn’t preferable. Lorraine recognized as much, so while she did want to talk to Hilde, she made sleep her priority. 

Lorraine and Hilde had a surprising amount to discuss. Hilde had lived for so long that her knowledge and experience were even of value to Lorraine. Reading books was fun, but there was plenty they couldn’t teach you. Lorraine was an avid reader, and even she was keenly aware of that. It made sense she would want to hear what Hilde had to say. 

“Yeah, she told me to tell you she says goodbye. Also, she says to come to the capital if you need to know something about divine arts.” 

“The capital? I don’t go there much.” 

“Me neither,” I said. 

In my case, I simply wouldn’t get much adventurer work in the capital, but Lorraine avoided the place because she found it bothersome. When she wanted something that was only available in the big city, she sent a letter to an acquaintance in the Lelmudan Empire. Even the biggest cities in a small country like Yaaran were like Maalt to Lorraine. But while she didn’t go frequently, she had been a few times, unlike a full-fledged country boy like myself. 

“Well, there’s no time at the moment, but I’ll think about it. Much as I’d rather not go to the capital, it’s not impossible I’ll be convinced.” 

“All right. Should we wake everyone up now? It’s time for us to depart,” I suggested. 

We went around waking up the passengers and the coachman. We had to leave as soon as the sun began to rise if we wanted to get anywhere. Ideally, we wouldn’t have to camp two nights in a row. 

None of the other passengers seemed to know what happened. Both the zombies and our (well, really just Lorraine’s) removal of them and Hilde’s visit to our camp all night were entirely unknown to them. The zombies were already dead, so there were no signs of life from them, and Hilde was an experienced enough adventurer she knew how to conceal her presence from the average citizen. From the perspective of the passengers, we had a peaceful night of camping. Well, the coachman did seem to notice something, but anyone who would drive a carriage through these unpaved roads had to be strong in their own right. If he noticed, then that would stand to reason. 

The carriage raced under the morning sun and reached a town just before sunset. Nothing happened this time, much to my and Lorraine’s relief. I wasn’t here as a bodyguard, so I preferred to avoid the anxiety of that line of work as much as possible. Not that the thieves who appeared on these country roads would be much trouble to take down. The monsters who showed up on the road weren’t a huge threat either, but it was more work than I wanted to attend to. 

“Nice, looks like I’ll get to sleep in a bed tonight,” Lorraine said as she exited the carriage. 

We sat for so long our bodies were stiff. We stretched as we walked, producing popping sounds. 

The path here was severely bumpy. The road to the west was well-maintained and free of rocks that would impede a carriage, so it was a smoother ride. I wished they would take care of this road too, but considering the time and money it would take, I didn’t expect that to ever happen. I’d fund it myself if I had the money, but I didn’t. I just had to give up on it. 

“I’m looking forward to the food more,” I said. The cuisine in most towns was normal, but this village had the delicacies I previously mentioned. I couldn’t wait to see how Lorraine reacted to that, but then she said something unexpected. 

“Oh right, this village is famous for its solest and gettamba. I can’t wait to try them either.” 

I thought these mystery words sounded like the names of magic spells. 

Lorraine furrowed her brow. “What? You’ve stopped in this town a few times before, right? The winter frog egg dish is called solest, and the fried baby curtis mants are called gettamba.” 

Now that she mentioned it, I had heard those names before. The names weren’t as impactful as the dishes themselves, so they didn’t stick in my mind. You could see the tadpoles in the winter frog eggs, and the fried curtis mants were still identifiable as mantises after being cooked, with five or six of them brought out on a plate. Any woman who would eat them had to either be from this town or have a lot of guts. Most would be too taken aback to even put them in their mouths. But Lorraine was different, it seemed. 

“You’re interested in trying those? That’s, well, I don’t know what to say,” I said, at a loss for words. 

Lorraine guessed what I was getting at. “Do you think that’s bizarre? Well, you’re not wrong, but they were listed in a book I bought from a street vendor the other day. When I saw they were available nearby, I wanted to give them a try,” she said, reminding me that she bought a book about cooking monsters. 

I thought Lorraine bought every book regardless of genre to sate her thirst for knowledge, but I didn’t expect her to be sincerely interested in the subject matter. Maybe that desire for knowledge made her open to just about everything, though, knowing how Lorraine was. She seldom let biases get in the way of anything, for better or worse. That’s why she still accepted me when I became undead. She really didn’t have to show the same generosity to food, though. I didn’t even know if I would be all right with them, it had been so long since I ate those dishes. At least the flavor was fine. Well, it would have to wait until dinner. 

With that, we headed to the inn. The coachman had made arrangements for us to stay there in advance, so our late arrival wasn’t a problem. Any time we arrived would have been fine though, knowing how far from civilization this town was. 

The steaming bowl contained jiggling eggs covered in a gelatinous substance. They were transparent enough to see the gigantic tadpoles inside. That was solest. Next to it was a big plate of not just five or six but twenty or thirty fried mantises in a large pile. That was quite the sight to see. In fact, I wasn’t hungry anymore just looking at it. I didn’t want to touch the gettamba. 

Seated next to me, Lorraine loaded her plate and ate them like any other food. “What, Rentt, are you not eating? Well, maybe it won’t taste good for you without any blood,” she said, considerate enough to whisper the last part. 

That wasn’t the problem. I simply didn’t like how the food looked. Hathara never had cuisine so flagrantly uncivilized. We barely had winter frogs or curtis mants around Hathara, though, so that was probably part of it. They ate these monsters around these parts partially to cut down on their numbers while they were still small, but there was no need for that when they weren’t present to begin with. 

“No, that’s not it. I’ll eat some, I swear,” I insisted, crying internally as I put a paltry amount of frog eggs on my plate. They were firm, and I could see that the giant tadpoles were still moving around inside. Remorseful about taking their lives, I put them in my mouth and touched the gelatinous substance with my tongue. It had a strange texture, soft but soaked in juices from the stew that gave them a fine flavor. I worked up the will to eat more, biting into a tadpole. A gentle taste filled my mouth, contrary to their sickening appearance. It was mildly sweet, while the juices were savory. I could never get enough of these, if only they looked like anything normal. 

Next was the fried curtis mants. Surprisingly, there were only so many of those left too. I was at the same table as Lorraine and the other passengers, all of whom ate without a fuss. I heard all the crunching sounds and knew they came from the mantises, so it should have been obvious. I reached out to grab a curtis mant and made eye contact with it. Disturbed and unable to tolerate staring at this bug in silence any longer, I shoved it in my mouth headfirst and chomped it in half. The crisp sensation spread throughout, along with a refreshing taste atypical of fried food. I thought it was good, perfect to go along with some beer, and the coachman and middle-aged man did happen to be drinking ale with it. I worried about how tomorrow’s drive would go, but giant tortoises were smart enough to drag us along fine, even if the coachman’s whipping was haphazard. 

I eventually got over my revulsion and ate the food like I would anything else. Next time I came to this town, though, I would probably go through this all over again. Lorraine said she wanted to come eat this again sometime, so we would likely stop by on the way home. I had to mentally prepare myself before then. 

“Thanks to you two, we got to eat tasty food this whole trip! If we ever see you in Maalt, we’ll treat you to something nice!” the young woman said after she got off the carriage. 

“We owe you,” her father added, standing next to her. “I heard you fought off some monsters one night, too. This isn’t much, but here.” He presented us with a bronze coin. 

“No, we were only defending ourselves. If you want to do something for us, you can buy us a nice meal when you’re back in Maalt, assuming you’ll be back,” Lorraine suggested. 

We talked to the middle-aged man and the young woman a fair bit, enough to know they were returning to the village where the woman’s mother and grandparents lived. They stayed in Maalt for work most of the time but went back to their village when they had a vacation. The mother took care of the grandparents. It was a common story. 

“Are you sure? Normally you’d pay a Silver-class adventurer in silver coins, even,” the man said. 

Silver-class and Bronze-class were convenient titles in that they provided an estimate of the price for the adventurer’s services. Silver-class adventurers used to take one or two silver coins, but now they were even more expensive thanks to inflation. Bronze-class adventurers once took one bronze coin, but of course, their asking price had since increased as well. Still, we made one or two silver coins at the most. A Bronze-class adventurer’s wallet was never in the best of states. 

“It’s fine. We weren’t here on a job. It wasn’t even out of the kindness of our hearts. We’re traveling too, and it was nice to have people to talk too. See you later.” 

“Dang, you don’t see a lot of generous adventurers nowadays. Fine, until next time, then,” the middle-aged man said. He waved goodbye and entered the village with his daughter. 

“Time to go,” the coachman said and got the carriage moving. We were still on the third day of the journey. There were three or four more to go. The only passengers left were us, the coachman, and the old couple. 

“I know I kept making fun of how rural your home is, but maybe I didn’t go far enough,” Lorraine said as she popped her head out of the carriage. 

She was right. We were surrounded by nothing but mountains and forests. Up to where the father and daughter had disembarked, there were still roads like you would see around villages. But now there were mountains, mountains, mountains, forests, and more mountains. The road was leveled out enough a carriage could cross it, but only just barely. The coachman had the skill, and the carriage had the durability to handle it, but this part was always scary. If the carriage broke down, we would have to walk. 

The old couple got off yesterday, by the way. The distance between the road and their destination would require them to walk a ways, so Lorraine and I carried them the rest of the way there. Thankfully the coachman said he would wait for us to get back. He even said he’d camp right there and wait for us to return if we didn’t make it back that day. That was one nice advantage to country roads; the westbound carriages were never so flexible. They were often filled to capacity, and city folk were always concerned about getting to places on time. Late arrivals garnered tons of complaints, with passengers demanding their money back. On this road, no such thing was possible. That might have been partially because country people were lazier, but the coachman didn’t expect to make much money no matter what happened, and the passengers were willing to go with the flow. 

“Well, yeah, if it weren’t so far out of the way, I’d visit home more often. It takes time to get here, time I didn’t have. Thankfully now I can get by without working constantly, but I had to toil every day to put food on the table until recently,” I said. 

That was typical for Bronze-class adventurers. If you had a party, you could work more efficiently and avoid such poverty, but I didn’t. Although, maybe I liked to waste money a little too much, too. I was obsessed with seemingly useless magic items. 

“If you just told me you were going through rough times, I would’ve given you a loan with no interest.” 

“How could I ask for that? I want to be your equal.” 

I was afraid my destitution would leave me socially isolated too, but if Lorraine said she’d offer money, then she probably would. Even so, I didn’t want to ask for some. Not while I still had other options, at least. If worse came to worst then I might have been forced to abandon my pride, but then I would strive to pay her back for the rest of my life. Long-time friends were precious to me. 

“You don’t need to be so stubborn. Well, maybe that’s just how you are,” she acknowledged. 

It was true, I lived life how I wanted. If I gave that up, it would be the death of me. That’s why, even though I was undead, I still thought of myself as alive. My will lived on. 

The carriage continued onward for another half a day or so. “Almost there,” the coachman muttered. 

Lorraine and I looked outside and saw the road gradually becoming more open. We reached the point where the road was used by the villagers of Hathara, so it was maintained to some degree. A river ran alongside the path, so that was probably why. I recognized the scenery around here. 

“Finally,” Lorraine said, exhausted. Even she had trouble with all the shaking. She was from the city, so I doubted she ever rode a carriage that rocked so much. 

“I can see it now. It’s the village of Hathara,” I whispered. 

Lorraine looked straight ahead too. “A wooden fence? Seems kind of primitive.” 

“It might look that way, but Hathara’s medicine woman coats that fence in a drug that’s extremely effective at warding off monsters. And if some monsters do get through, there are hunters that can take care of it. Their defenses are fine.” 

If anything too powerful appeared, they would have to call adventurers, but they had enough people who could take down goblins or slimes. Even deep in the mountains, life was possible. 

“I already heard as much, but this village is a bit strange. There are autonomous cities with their own defenses against monsters, but not many small villages in the mountains can boast the same. Or maybe I’m just ignorant, and this is normal for mountain villages.” 

“I’m not sure. I used to think it was normal, but when I think about it now, it is kind of odd. The medicine woman’s drugs are unusually effective, and the hunters seem stronger than they have any right to be.” 

“There’s also that mysterious shrine where you were blessed. I told Hilde I was coming with you out of curiosity as an excuse, but it does sound interesting. I can’t wait to investigate,” Lorraine said with excitement. 

I didn’t mind, but to me, it was an ordinary village. I couldn’t imagine she would find anything outside the shrine, but I could think about that after we got there. With that in mind, we waited for the carriage to reach the village.