While I help Matriarch Kenza with the fortification, Dear will go into the woods on his own. I'm waiting in front of the room to say goodbye to him, and look at the results of my work.
The door opens. “I'm ready.” Dear has equipped his new gear, which I made with love and for the cold temperatures. To be honest, there wasn't much to do, as Dear already wears hide armor, but a new jacket in which I integrated his arm guard, a thin scarf he can wear under his hood and pull up to cover his face more, and a new pair of wool socks should be enough to keep him warm.
With his archery glove on the left and his bracer on the right arm, his hands are already warm enough. Overall, he doesn't look too different, but I like looking at him, so it's definitely the right choice.
Grekk follows him, wearing a bandana, which enhances his still new topknot, and has a belly band under his new poncho. He also wears new trousers, though he still only has leather bound around his feet, which fortunately are in socks as well. The old boots in the farm aren't only full of holes, but also too small for him.
He scratches his gray beard, while checking his outfit: “And you did all of it in one night?”
“I worked hard, but was also able to repurpose some old clothes. When this is over, I can make you a second set.”
“Thank you. I'm a bit concerned about fighting in those, though.”
“I already made you a new poncho, instead of putting you into a shirt, and you should move alright,” I answer, remembering how Grekk outright declined to wear anything on his torso he couldn't throw away in one motion, even the belly band was pressing it.
“I don't care about movement, it would be just a shame to dirty these clothes.”
“Ah, don't worry about that. We can wash them at any time.”
“Please no,” Dear adds while moving his joints: “Fits perfectly,” he gives his judgment. “Maybe it's because of [Armor]? The [Hide]-skill makes any hide armor less cumbersome.”
Maybe he's right, but- “I tried my best...”
“Phew...” He scratches his head, then he comes closer, looking me into the eyes: “You did, and I appreciate it.”
“I need a kiss.”
“...” He puts his hands on my shoulder, and I feel his lips for a second on mine.
You gain 1 WP.
The first kiss you had today, at a perfect opportunity to cheer you up!
I take his face and go for another kiss, one wasn't enough after all. “I love you.”
“...” He doesn't answer, but it looks like he wanted to do something with his hand for a second, like stroking my face or petting my hand, but instead he turns around, leaving my touch: “I'm going.”
I wish he would have said something about my outfit. Same as him, there are some limits imposed by the armor, but I'm now wearing a surcoat, and have changed the thin suit made out of fryon hair for a thicker one. I'm also wearing a woolen headband. I tried to make the outfit look good without losing too much of defense, so I kept the bracers and the skirt, which is also made out of fryon leather with metal reinforcements, same as the armor.
“Sigh.” I think Dear may be unable to notice that. While I'd love it if he calls me pretty in my new outfit, him saying anything would tell me that he pays attention to me. Maybe he was just embarrassed?
“How sweet,” Grekk chuckles. “Feeling lonely already?”
“No.” I lift my head, as the next words are as joyful as truthful: “He will always come for me.”
“Kehehehe.”
“Tehehe.”
“Alright, I will see if I can help with something. You're going to Kenza?”
“Later, first I'll look for Kyou.”
“Why?”
“To make sure.” My friend has a good heart, but I think she may try to talk people into fleeing. She's smart and she's willing to use her powers as a hero if necessary, while I kinda dislike it. I mean, I still believe that fighting would be preferable, but Dear is right: It's primarily their choice and they chose to hold out for the time being.
Grekk and I split outside, and I see that the news has already spread. People are running around, some are busy, others just look like it. I think that they need someone to take the reins, but Kenza isn't a military leader, so she could need help. Am I arrogant when I think that I could provide exactly that?
But first, I want to find Kyou. Ah, there she is. She's talking with Ara. Both of them also changed to their winter gear, Kyou stayed true to her scarf, but she added a woolen hat that covers her ears, and a cute bobble at the top, while she now has a newly sewn jacket. It's from cloth from Aroahenn, which is very durable against blades. Over that, she has a vest, and under her longer skirt is a pantyhose, which sure looks warm. Of course she still has her long, curved knife and her pouches on arm and belt, as these are her primary means of defense.
For Ara, I have resewn one of her dresses so that it covers her arms, and she's wearing trousers, still barefooted. In the end, I just knitted woolen footlaces and at least she's wearing them. The most challenging part would have been her cap, which has a hole for her ponytail—she really insisted on keeping it—and doesn't cover the ears at all, but at least the neck.
I think I did well. Especially with the time given. I do wish, however, that I'd been able to make armor, as it really bugs me to be so limited with my work.
I approach the two of them: “Something wrong?”
“Yes and no,” Kyou sighs, “I just don't like to lose time here.”
“You want to convince them to flee?”
“A bit, but to be honest, it feels terrifying to wait for whatever will come.” I can tell that this is a big confession from her.
Maybe she wants to run away herself. I have forgotten that Kyou isn't really a combatant. Is this why she also wants the others to flee? “Kyou? Thank you for staying.” I embrace her, trying to convey my feelings for her.
After a moment of hesitation, she returns the embrace: “Things will only get worse, right?”
“I don't know, but let us prepare as much as we can.” I look for Ara, who has distanced herself from us. I don't know why though. “Come Ara, let's make it a group-hug!”
“No,” she answers aloof, “I rather use my time to train my [Divination].”
“...ah!” It took a moment for me to get what she meant, as her [Divination]-magic is rather... specific. She can tell the fortune for the year, and it's always the same, no matter how often she repeats it. Mine was 'As the year progresses, your world will be turned upside down several times, what you expect to be normal becomes special, but what you really desire lies beyond a sea of despair.'
I guess it holds until the end of the year, and now that I think about it, it's accurate. I started this year as the crown-princess, became a hero, found true friends, and fell in love, but only after facing Lvo'tjos—who showed me what I really am—and instructor—who destroyed my self-confidence—I was able to make it last.
I already knew [Divination] is real, but only a few are able to use it for more than simple and broad forecasts. That's why the rare oracles are so crowded, though strangely enough, none of them work for a country. My teacher said, it's because their predictions are--- ...I forgot.
However, if Ara learns to be like an oracle, we would have it much easier: “That's a great idea!”
“Ahem!” My alfr friend is very proud of herself: “Then I'll--” She jumps backwards, as Kyou has moved closer: “What are you planning, Momo?”
“Rine-chan, don't let her trick you! She's just looking for a reason to slack off while we're helping these people!”
“Don't trust her words, Katarine-san! While she's right, it only makes sense for me to use my head instead of my feeble arms, and while there is no risk, the possible reward is immense!”
“Erm... Ara? You just admitted Kyou to be right.” I mean, what can I say other than: “Come, let's help them together.”
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“I decline.” How can I convince her? “Though I may be convinced to take care of the children.”
“Ah, that's also fine, I think?”
“Rine-chan, she's playing you.” Kyou leaves my arms, and turns to our alfr friend: “Arako, you either earn your pleasure, or you'll eventually regret it. I can wait.” Kyou, I somehow think that you're threatening Ara despite smiling.
“Alright, alright.” It somehow works though: “Just find me easy work then.”
With this, Ara sticks around Kyou, who takes charge of the kitchen swiftly, while I meet up with Kenza, who is arguing with Grekk: “No need for a stockade,” he says patiently. “No need to give them more weapons.”
“What do you mean?”
“How can I say... Ah, follow me.” He turns towards a woodshed, where there is a trunk lying around, ready to be processed into firewood at any point. He lifts the trunk, which is at least thrice as tall as himself with ease: “This will be the part of the stockade.” After walking a few steps, he thrusts the trunk into the ground, by its flat end. This alone is enough to make Kenza walk a step back: “In the best case, they'll just pick it up and swing it around. In the slightly worse case, they take it and throw it into your buildings. In the far worse case,” with a punch, he shatters the whole trunk, and splinters of different sizes—some as small as needles, other as tall as spears—are shot through the air and into the ground, “they will use it like that.”
As Kenza seems to be speechless, I think I should answer that: “That would do some damage. However, wouldn't that mean that the buildings aren't safe either?”
“Exactly.”
“Can every barbarian do that?”
“Erm... I don't think so, now that you mention it. Though many will be able to swing them around.”
“Understood,” I add slowly. I think about what we're actually trying to achieve, while turning to the matriarch. “What will you do if you can't bargain with the barbarians, Kenza? Fight?”
“While we may be able to fend off weaker monsters or make bandits second-guess, I doubt we could win against the barbarians. Unless the magic of your elf-”
“Alfr.”
“What?”
“She's an alfr. That's important.”
“...do you or any of your companions use magic to beat a band of barbarians?”
“Offensive-magic-wise, we only have Ara, and I doubt that she can fend off an attack on her own. For me, I guess...” I quickly draw Friedensbote and use my [Skill]: “[Crescent Moon]!” It's a flying sword-slash, capable of hitting several foes at once. “I know, it's not that much, but I'm also learning [Elemental Magic] again.”
“Not much? This seems plenty,” Kenza sighs in relief. “Thank you. About the stockade, what would you suggest, Rine-dono?”
I really wish that Dear would be here to help me to make these decisions. This is the first time I realize how demanding it is when people ask you about things.
A small part of me feels relief to not be the crown-princess anymore, as that life would be like this all the time. Maybe I'm more fit to be a combatant after all.
Suddenly, someone interrupts us. “Mom!” It's Mirianne, who yells while running towards us: “Obert went missing!” I don't know who that is, but looking at Kenza's reaction, it may be a child: “Uncle Benjam is gathering people to look for him.”
“That little--- Do you even know where he went?”
“I think... I think he's in the forest...”
―○●○―
Obert is a great warrior. Being ten means that he's basically an adult. He's the strongest of them all. At least among the kids that are old enough to help on the field.
He's the child of Rald and Lurise, after all, two of the strongest people on this farm. Maybe Uncle Benjam is stronger, but that's just because he used to be a soldier and therefore has a sword.
Obert has a secret: He also owns a sword.
His family may call him a brat, but he's just more active than the rest. Quicker. Adventurous. Whenever he shows his wits and maturity, the adults call him cheeky or obnoxious. Obert is just ahead of his age.
They may see him as a troublemaker, but that's just whenever he does things they don't like. Why do they care at all if he has a pet squirrel? There are a hundred animals on the farm! It may have caused some trouble, but that’s just because Obert hasn't had the time to train it. The scratches were a sign of their friendship!
It's not that he wanted to kill the rabbits, he just wanted to make their flesh more tender by scaring them a bit. Then they shiver, which will relax the muscles. It makes absolute sense.
Obert only peed into Keylinn's closet, because Keylinn was mean. He said ‘Obert is a stupid brat’, which called for some retaliation. Having all the clothes peed on should have taught him to never cross Obert again.
Hiding leftovers, stealing some tools, insulting the other kids, there is a good reason for all of them, but the adults never listen. There is just punishment.
That's why Obert hid his sword in the forest. He found it several months ago, when he was accompanying the sheeps to a grazing spot. There it was, half-buried, a bit rusted just beside the path. Probably lost ages ago. It had to be magical. He took it with him, hid it from the others that were with him, and finally got it into the forest.
Whenever there is a chance, Obert trains really hard. Uncle Benjam used to be a soldier, and Obert will be one as well. He's already ten, so maybe in three more years. Unlike his cousin, he won't waste away on the farm until he is too old for anything else.
He is brave, after all! He may have stumbled when the elf suddenly appeared, but elves are dangerous! It’s already tricked several of the othe- of the children and even the adults are starting to warm up to it, but Obert knows that this one is a hideous creature that needs to be stopped.
But before that, there are the evil barbarians, another legendary enemy! With the help of all the training he went through, he will fight them back! That's why he needs his sword! Even though his family may get angry at him for leaving without telling anyone... they probably won't notice that he's gone, with how many people live on the farm.
Nonetheless, when he returns with the sword and shows off his skills with it, they will admire him and allow him to leave to become a soldier—no, a legendary swordsman. Just like Gottfried of Feuerberg! It will take four years at most.
Going through the forest isn't scary at all. After all, he marked several trees with the lime they use to keep the monsters away from the fields. Surely, nobody noticed that Obert stole it. That could have been anyone.
There is the tree. It has much space under the roots, almost like a den. That means the sword is close. Hiding it in there would have been too easy, so he hid it a bit farther away. Turn your back towards that knothole... there, under the foliage before that tree!
Carefully, there is a blade to consider. There it is! Obert lifts the sword, though it's very heavy. This only shows how strong his swings are! Better to do a small warm-up, so that he can show his full skills when he returns.
There is no reason to go to the training ground, as he won't need to hide the sword anymore. He swings it against the tree, it makes a good sounding *thunk* when it hits, and even removes some of the bark. “Take this, barbarian! Scum!” He repeats the swing, again and again: “Kneel and face justice!”
“Wanna say it to my face?” The sudden voice makes Obert squeak. He turns around and sees a man in his late teens, with blonde hair and blue eyes. He wears a leather trouser, but above that is nothing. Yet, there are several weapons hanging from his belt, a sword, three daggers, a club, and an axe.
“AAAAAAAAH!” Obert jumps back, as someone topless with weapons has to be a barbarian. Obert tries to lift his sword to put something between himself and the barbarian, but while swinging it is just a bit tiring, holding it is nigh impossible.
“Found one!” The man shouts into the trees, and then a man and a woman at the same age, and a much older man join in. All of them with weapons, none of them wearing anything above their waist.
While Obert would usually stare at the breasts of the woman, he rather feels like he's about to pee. That has to be the excitement. The woman snarls: “Guess you were right, after all.”
The first man laughs and steps closer to Obert. The boy is unable to swing his weapon or run away, paralyzing fear has settled within him. “Stay away!” He still can run his mouth, though. “Or I'll kill you!”
“Bahahaha! Seriously? Boy, you can barely lift the sword. But let's talk, alright?” Obert nods, hopefully they don't see him shaking. “Great. First, what is your name? I'm Skall.”
“O-o-obert!”
“Nice to meet you, Obert. There is a place in the north where there are several cuts in the trees? Was that you?”
That has to be his training ground! “Y-y-y-yes!”
“What were you doing there?”
“---tr-training, sir.”
“Only you?”
“Yes, sir...”
“Where do you live?” No, Obert couldn't say it. He shakes his head. “You won't tell me? That's sad.” Suddenly, Skall takes the blade of Obert's sword between two fingers and thrusts the handle right into Obert's chest.
IT HURTS!!!
“Again, Obert. Where do you live?” Skall smiles warmly, as if he has petted the boy instead of hurting him.
“--on a farm.” Please don't hurt me, please don't hurt me. “Please-”
“Ulw?” Skall turns to the older man: “Can you follow his tracks?”
“Sure.”
“Well, Obert. Then that's it. Hold still, it will be quicker.”
“Ah... I ANSWERED YOU! PLEASE! DON'T!”
“You may have answered my question, but I never said that I would let you live if you did, right? That's all your fault for being a weak brat that sold out his family. Don't worry, when you die, just wait a bit, and everyone you hold dear will follow soon.”
“H-HELP! HELP! MOM! DAD! UNCLE! HELP! HEEEEELP!”
“Also, don't cry. Nobody will hear you in the forest anyway, and it's mildly annoying.”
No, someone has to hear Obert. He knows that he's far away, but people have to be looking for him. Please, someone save him!
Obert tries to free the sword from Skall's grip, but the barbarian quickly tears it from Obert's hand: “I guess I can at least use your rusty lump of metal. Just stay still, it'll be over soon.”
“PLEASE!” He pleads with the others, the older man, the other two teens, but everyone looks like they're having the time of their life. They don't care about the life of a boy at all, no, they stare with glee at that spectacle.
He should have run, but the only thing Obert can do is scream. Even though nobody will hear him. Even though nobody will save him. He can only stare at the tip of his trusty sword, which is moving upwards, ready to rip through shoulder and torso in one go.
Here it comes! *CLANK*
A strangely curved spearblade made out of bone blocks the attack. “[Entangle]!” Suddenly, the tree behind the woman lashes out with its branches, grabbing her from behind. Someone else is there, someone heard Obert's cry!
It's a man wearing red armor and a hood of the same color. Obert totally forgot about the wounded ranger, who couldn't move despite being healed. The wonderful, wonderful ranger, who will now fight off all the barbarians. Only a legend can defeat another one.
The ranger turns his head slightly to Obert, what kind of words will he use to instill hope and acknowledgment towards the boy? 'I heard your voice. Don't worry, I'm here now.' maybe? Or could it be 'You did well, now I'll take over.'?
Now the ranger begins to speak, directing his inspiring words to the young Obert: “Fuck off, turd!”