Chapter 4

First, where should I head? That was the problem.

Honestly, anywhere would do. A place where people live, preferably in a community.

At first, I thought about finding the place where my biological parents lived. But that would be difficult. All I remember is the vague sight of hair color and the sound of an argument. Relying on that alone to find my parents is an impossible task, and there’s no point in doing so. If I had been abandoned right away, it might have been different, but a considerable amount of time has passed. To my parents, I am already dead. Even if they saw me now, they probably wouldn’t recognize me as their son. There’s nothing we can understand about each other anymore. I’ve heard stories about how parents and children can recognize each other at a glance, even if they are separated, but I don’t believe in such things.

Then, where should I go? ...Actually, I have a good idea.

During my magic practice, I encountered humans several times. Each time, I hid behind trees, in bushes, or in holes dug in the ground.

Those people seemed to be hunters. I even witnessed them catching birds. They would carry their prey or return empty-handed as the forest grew dark, heading east.

Their village is to the east. Knowing this, I decided to head east at sunset. The journey would be safe. I don’t need a road to fly with magic, and the visibility is good even though the sun has set. I’ve already made myself invisible.

I took two breaks and naps. By the time I finished my fourth meal on the move, the forest had cleared, and I could see the light of human habitation. I decided to wait here until dawn for my final rest.

The sun hit my face, and I woke up. It seemed to have just risen.

I yawned widely and checked my surroundings. The trees and stumps with branches cut off, and the clearly human-altered forest. Beyond that, a low fence was set up, and further back, there were already a few people in the village. I should still be invisible, but I feel tense.

“―――♪”

I heard a baby crying and reflexively looked in that direction.

There, a young woman-like figure was holding a crying infant. The child with chestnut hair was crying loudly, ignoring the woman trying to soothe it.

A newborn baby... It seems I’ve found a place that meets my conditions. Good. I felt a bit relieved and headed in that direction.

The house I would sneak into to steal. The conditions I sought were simple: a house with a small, preferably newborn, child. If there’s a child, there should be items for children. And there should be everything needed for a child’s growth. Not just food and clothes, but also education, discipline, and language knowledge, which I desperately need.

So, I decided to stay near this child for a while. I would watch over this child. I decided that the parents of this child would also become my parents.

I sneaked into the baby’s house. The fussing child was put to sleep in a small blanket. Its sleeping face was very cute, completely different from when it was crying.

The mother kissed the baby’s forehead and quietly left the room. She probably went to do some housework.

Looking around the room, it was simple. There was a bed for the baby, a small desk that the baby couldn’t use yet, and a comfortable chair, probably for the parents.

I looked for an opportunity and checked the other rooms. The house seemed to be a relatively large one. Unlike the house where I saw the morning meal, this one had a room for the child, a workshop, a room that looked like a storage for medicines, and a small study.

The mother seemed to have finished the laundry. She returned to the baby, looked down at the sleeping infant, and started knitting with a smile. She continued this for a few hours until the father, who seemed to be the father, came home.

As I got used to spending time with them, I learned many things.

The baby’s name is probably “Frou.” Both the mother and father frequently called the baby by this name. My vocabulary is still limited, so there’s a fear that it might mean something like “cute” or “are you okay?” but it’s probably the name.

I haven’t seen other babies, but I think Frou is a quiet child. Even when left alone in a room, it doesn’t cry much and spends time looking at the ceiling or walls. Occasionally, it would look around and laugh with a “giggling” sound. The smile looked very happy, and I liked it.

This quietness changed after a few months, and it started to do risky things. Once it could hold its head up and crawl, it would walk around on its own.

Most of the time, it would go looking for the mother who was doing laundry or preparing meals, but sometimes it would try to go outside. I thought it was dangerous and tried to stop it, but it seemed futile against the child’s curiosity. It showed no signs of stopping.

The reading sessions by Frou’s mother, Elsie, were very helpful. I listened more intently than Frou to learn the language and culture. Thanks to this, by the time I had been in the village for about three years, I could understand most of the words.

As a result, the world I heard about was indeed different from the one I had been in before.

Most importantly, there is magic. Few can use it, but it is a powerful skill. A single word from a mage can make the earth shake, the wind blow, and the flames burn the surface. Rainbows can be crossed, and pebbles in the palm can multiply endlessly. A pig that turned golden trampled enemies. A woman created multiple corpses of herself, changing her appearance to confuse the enemy.

These are children’s stories. The information is insufficient, and some of it may be inaccurate. But it seems likely that such things exist. Elsie often emphasized this.

There is magic. Compared to my previous life, it is a definite advantage. However, there are also disadvantages.

This world has no decent machines. For example, the means of transportation are carriages. There are no airplanes or cars. And it seems that the use of electricity is not considered, so there are no refrigerators or washing machines.

There are no tanks or fighter jets, and the weapons used in war are mainly spears, bows, and swords. And a few mages. I imagine they form phalanxes.

The lifestyle of this village is not modern at all. There are books and farming tools, but they are not very advanced.

Occasionally, when I see what the traveling merchants sell, it seems that the technology in the cities is somewhat developed, but in such a small village, it’s like this.

It’s still developing, but the pace is definitely slow.

Considering the existence of magic, it makes sense. If there’s no need, inventions won’t happen. If you can get fire by casting a spell, you don’t need flint.

There is one excellent thing, magic. So, there must be other things in this world that are better than in my previous life. They have developed differently by relying on these things.

Among the books chosen for reading, Frou seems to like the hero’s tales. The scenes where the hero and his companions help people on their journey to defeat the evil king are particularly favored. Frou often asks for these parts to be read.

“The heroes entered the forest to head to the next town. Then, a girl appeared and said, ‘Oh, oh, I don’t know who you are, but please help me. I haven’t eaten in a while, and I’m very hungry and thirsty.’ The hero felt sorry for her and offered dried meat from his bag. Then, the hero tried to leave, but—”

“The girl took the hero’s hand and thanked him many times.”

“Oh, you already remember that?”

Elsie laughed and praised her son. Then, continuing from her son’s words, the reading resumed.

The story is simple. A wicked king appears in the world. As a result, the movements of monsters become more active, and the country falls into chaos. One day, the hero, ordered by the king, sets out on a journey to defeat the king along with the princess. On the way, he meets a witch living in a deep forest, a strong warrior, and a holy maiden traveling for the sake of the world, and they join him to defeat the king’s subordinates and, finally, the king himself. After that, the hero and the princess get married and live happily ever after.

“A proud soldier said, ‘You shall not pass,’ and pointed his spear at the hero.”

“Go, hero!”

The story progresses. The woman who received the dried meat from the hero was actually a holy maiden and joined the hero’s journey. When they reached the town, the hero was obstructed by the subordinates of a jealous general. However, the hero’s persuasion made the soldier change his mind, and he began to protect the hero from the evil general.

“The hero said, ‘My sword is for protecting people, not for fighting you,’ and the soldier dropped his spear and cried. The princess felt happy and kissed the hero’s cheek.”

“Wow, wow.”

Frou’s cheeks turning red at this point is a common occurrence. There are many scenes in the story where the women kiss or embrace the hero, and Frou always blushes and looks embarrassed. It’s a very endearing sight, and Elsie watches with a smile.

The hero’s journey is long. In this world, there are five great holy territories, and countries are scattered around them. The hero travels through these countries, gathering strength and companions to defeat the king.

It seems that this story is based on a real hero who lived over a thousand years ago. The names of the countries have changed over time, but the holy territories still exist with the same names.

In fact, the forest where I was abandoned and still gather food is part of the holy territory of Nerg, which is on the border.

When I first came to this village, I didn’t notice, but there is a large tree deep in the forest. It’s not just big. From this village, which is quite far away, the top of the tree is so high that it’s shrouded in mist. If I estimate based on the average height of a child in my previous life, the diameter of the trunk is probably several kilometers. The entire land, with this tree at its center, and the roots that spread to the horizon, is called Nerg.

All five holy territories have different environments. For example, Nerg is a large tree. There are also a sea with an unfathomable bottom, a lava pool with floating mountains, and a tower made of crystallized iron, among other things, in the hero’s tales. Each of these places is ultimately harsh.

Ultimately, it’s not that the land itself is bad. Rather, it’s attractive for living things. That’s why it becomes harsh.

Among these, Nerg is easy to understand because I’m here. It’s a very fertile land. It’s said that the central tree’s blessing makes plants grow quickly, strong, and abundant in this forest.

And there are animals that eat these plants.

So far, it’s not a harsh land. But there are monsters that eat these animals, and that’s a big problem. I haven’t actually seen a monster, so I don’t know the extent of the threat. But from the hero’s tales, where a group of soldiers is eaten by large dogs or rats, I can make a guess.

A land where a group of soldiers can be easily eaten by monsters. It’s harsh, to say the least.

Fortunately, most of the monsters and animals stay deep in the forest. The closer to the tree trunk, the more varieties of fruit, and they don’t lack food.

And at the edge of Nerg, humans also live. The abundant harvest from the forest’s edge and the effects of Nerg allow for a very comfortable life. Although my food still comes from hunting in the forest.

“The hero, whose sword was broken, stood up with the broken sword as a cane and said, ‘I can’t die because I have to protect everyone’... Oh, you fell asleep today.”

Frou seemed to have fallen asleep during nap time, lying face down. Elsie picked up the heavy Frou, put her to bed, stroked her cheek, and left the room.

Since Frou was sleeping, I had no business here. I floated out.

I looked at the forest of Nerg. There was a small fire. It’s a common occurrence. The adults said it could be due to a monster spitting fire or lava from the neighboring holy territory of Aelif spreading underground. I don’t know which is true, but this fire doesn’t turn into a large forest fire. After a while, sap-like liquid oozes from the roots of Nerg and extinguishes the fire.

I once went to a place where the fire had just been extinguished. It was covered in a sticky, slightly blue-smelling liquid. Incidentally, this liquid, though blue-smelling, had a somewhat edible taste.

In one corner of the village, a dozen residents were doing combat training. The training was small-scale, mainly involving practice with long sticks used as spears and running to build stamina.

Occasionally, animals come out of the forest. To repel them, there are guards on duty at the edge of the village. This is the training for the guards.

It doesn’t seem very motivated, but the strong shouts still echo around. Most of them are farmers, so they naturally have stamina and strength.

It’s said that animals rarely come out, and the training is almost meaningless. Yet, everyone participates because there’s an incentive.

In a word, alcohol.

The guard duty is rotated every three days, but those on duty are required to participate in training every day for three days before their shift. At the end of the training and after their shift, the participants are given alcohol.

The alcohol is brought by the traveling merchants who come every nine days. The village collects money to buy it.

It’s not a lot, but in this place with few entertainments, the alcohol is valuable, and even those not on guard duty sometimes participate in the training. I don’t quite understand it.

I also participate in the training on the side. My body is equivalent to a three-year-old. I can’t do what adults can, but I can swing a stick and run a bit. I don’t want to rely too much on magic and end up with a weak body. My eyesight is still not very good, probably because I’ve been using magic to compensate. Since I noticed this, I try to avoid using magic for transparency and silencing, and only use it when necessary.

Recently, I found something interesting.

Among the adults who participate without much enthusiasm, there is a boy who is full of energy. His name is Kitch, apparently. There are other young, enthusiastic people, but Kitch is different.

During a rare mock battle in training one day, I saw Kitch facing off against an older man. I had never faced a person before, but I accidentally expanded my magic to observe better. Surprisingly, Kitch turned around and looked at me. It wasn’t a coincidence; he was clearly suspicious.

Can he sense magic? Is Kitch a mage? I thought so and observed him for a while, but it didn’t seem to be the case.

Also, he only reacted to my magical probing once.

I don’t know the reason. I failed the magic, or Kitch could somehow detect me.

I can’t figure it out, so I try to observe Kitch’s training as much as possible.

Kitch isn’t here today. I swing the stick mindlessly. Even when I’m out of breath, my arms are tired, and I’m drenched in sweat, I try not to stop until the adults do.

I’ve probably counted to a hundred. The front strike practice is over. Next is the front thrust. There’s not much time to catch my breath. A few minutes of rest, and the adults are chatting, but I haven’t recovered yet.

The practice resumes. Using a branch instead of a well-prepared spear, it’s especially painful for me with my weak hands. My left hand, which slides on the stick, hurts. The bleeding has decreased recently, but it still hurts. I had to stop