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“Nihihi.” Still stuck to me, Rine giggles her heart out, and I really hate the attention this gets, as barbarians and farmers look at me with envy, anger, vicarious embarrassment, and annoyance.
She's my girlfriend, so I guess she's allowed something like that, but I'm already sick of it: “Rine, time and place.”
“Ah, sorry.” She lets go of me, but I kinda feel bad, as she seriously earned herself a reward, even at my cost. I mean, after some way too close calls, she started to dominate that fight in a way that even impressed the barbarians.
Among them, sentences like 'Is she stronger than Turr?' and the like. It sounds like they didn't put their strongest there, but not a weakling either, maybe because of the chance to fight Jii-san? Oh well, we won and they admit it. Well, looking at the corpse really makes it hard to deny.
This was the portion I was the most worried about, but now comes the one I'm most skeptical of, as the Challenge of the Elders is a story-telling competition, and while the audience and hence judges come from both clans—well, in this case their clans and some farmers—Jii-san told us that the result comes from their cheers after hearing both. Even though the audience is very partial, and there are no set guidelines on what makes a story good outside of 'fun to hear'.
Jii-san said that barbarians are very honest whether they like something or not, but I can't help but think that this competition is skewed.
Despite that, Ara-san radiates confidence and as I look at her, her spirit seems to tell me to calm down, that she got it. Seriously, I'm still new to this subconscious spirit reading, but I realize time and time again how much of her moods I must have missed so far by just relying on the tone of her voice.
I sure hope she isn't faking it.
The audience that will serve as judges begin to sit down in a half circle, and the elder of the barbarians will start, which should serve Ara-san well to learn what to expect. Nah, I guess she will stick to what she knows, and her knowledge of hero-stories is vast, and she can even tell them in an entertaining way, as long as she doesn't stray away from the narrative by including her own thoughts. I mean, the Legend of Hagen was kinda nice to hear.
“I'm Ollof, elder of the Northwind Clan. This is a story from when I was nothing but a lad, barely old enough to grow a beard. As you can see, this is not a problem these days, though I do also grow hair from my nose and ears, which is maybe too much.” Here and there is a small laugh, even some of our people that are supposed to hate the story for being used against us had a small smirk. Shit, I forgot something...
This fantasy world has almost no entertainment! Which means, these people are basically totally unprepared to resist someone who tells a story in a decent way and they also never learned to hate a story just for the heck of it!
This is bad, but worse is the elder, who now comes to begin the story proper: “Back then, the Northwind Clan was very different, our Chieftain was Harld, a man so smart and cunning, that he could converse with the foxes. Yet he also had the strength of a bull and was as nimble as a deer, so everyone admired him, wanting to be like him. Harld had a son only a few summers younger than me, his name was Gerd, and Gerd wasn't like his father at all.
“Instead of the wit of a fox, he had the guilelessness of a sheep. Once he wondered where the clouds went, and when I heard him, I said 'Gerd, Gerd! I know the answer. When the clouds get old, they land and become stones.'
“Then Gerd said 'I have an idea' and ran to his father 'Dad, dad, I have an idea. Instead of looking for water all the time, let's collect stones. Then we can squeeze them out and get the last drop of rain out of them. It may take some effort, but there are many more stones there than lakes and rivers.'
“Harld then said 'You fool of a son. Bring me a stone and squeeze it and you shall see.'
“'But I can't squeeze a stone.' It was true, while Harld was as strong as a bear, Gerd was weak as a mouse. 'Can I bring you a stone and you squeeze it instead?'
“While Harld was admired by all, his biggest weakness was his son. 'Oh well, then bring me a dozen.' Gerd did what he was asked for, and Harld held a dozen stones in one of his mighty fists: 'Here.' He squeezed them, but instead of water, only dust came out.
“Gerd understood, at least in his own way: 'Ah, the clouds grow old because they have no rain left.' Yes, Gerd was a fool. However, this was just a taste of what to expect of Gerd.
“As I told you before, Gerd was also weak. I was leading a group of youngsters to teach them how to hunt rabbits, how to make slings and traps for them, and of course how to skin them properly. Each day, another of the young ones was tasked to kill the rabbit we caught. That time it was Gerd's turn and I dreaded it. Every time I would choose anyone but him, but I had no one left, even the small Brimm, at that time not taller than my hips, had already killed his first game and he did it admirably.
“The rabbit was in a sling, unable to free itself and exhausted from its fight against it. First, Gerd was afraid to use his fists, then he also dreaded using a knife, in the end I gave him a spear, and he was saying: 'This way, I don't need to get close.' He lifted the spear, and then fell over from its weight. Mind you, it was a simple spear, barely heavier than the knife, but Gerd couldn't even lift it.
“As he was still afraid, he picked up a stone to throw at the rabbit, but the stone which would neatly fit in your or my fist only flew an arm's length, as Gerd arms were as thin as twigs. 'Ah, I know,' he said. If he was too weak to throw a stone or wield a spear but too afraid to get close, he thought, he would crawl up to the rabbit—feet first—as if they were not a part of his body. He planned to kick the rabbit, but the rabbit fought back, and Gerd was covered over and over with scratches in seconds, and if I hadn't interfered, the rabbit would have killed him, something I couldn't let Chieftain Harld endure.
“How slow was Gerd? Despite being almost an adult, he was still carried by his father whenever the clan moved on. He let a tortoise get away because it outran him, and once he bowed down a snail only to notice that it had already crawled away. Whenever there was summer, he thought it was winter, as his mind was already two seasons late, so he went down with children's winter clothes on searing days.
“So why wasn't he left behind, you'd ask? He was Harld's only son, and he was very dear to his father. Yet the father was the chief, and while the respect of the clan brought some patience, it ran dry when Gerd was about to come of age.
“With a heavy heart, Harld summoned him into his tent. I was standing guard and able to hear the conversation: 'Gerd, you are about to become a man,' the chief said.
“'Yes, dad,' he answered slowly, then he added 'I am!?' in surprise, as he surely was too slow to notice how his body had grown.
“'You are, and I don't know what to make out of you. You are too slow and weak to be a hunter, you can't tell plants apart and thus can't become a gatherer, you are too clumsy to become a craftsman, and I don't want to even start how unfit you would be as a warrior. So what can you become?'
“'I want to be like you, dad.'
“'Like me? Even I gave up the hope that you may become the chieftain in the future. I can't leave the clan into the hands of someone unworthy, and you, my son, are unfit to be a leader. Is there something else?'
“'I want to be like you, dad.'
“'Listen. You are not fit to be a barbarian. Next time we stop at a village, we may not plunder it. We may let you go, live there, become like them. You may not be a part of us, but you will still be my son.' While living among the kingdomers may be shameful, this was way more than what Gerd deserved. That meant, his father loved him so much, that he was ready to endure the spite of the warriors for not gaining the spoils of battle, to endure the shame he would get for letting his own flesh and blood live among the sheep, betraying everything his father taught him.
“But Gerd? 'I want to be like you, dad.'
“So what could Harld do? A barbarian unable to carry his own weight is unable to carry the clan. Only children are allowed to be dependent. So Harld thought and thought, using his sharpness to look at it at every angle. Then he said 'It may cost your life,' it was more than Harld liked to pay, but he also wanted to honor his son's determination. Therefore, he decided to give the simplest yet hardest task of them all: 'Before you can be like me, you need to provide for yourself. That's what adults do and more. You have to survive for one month on your own. Ollof,' he called me 'Bring my son into the depths of a forest several days away from here. Gerd, pack your weapons and tools.'
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“'Yes father!'
“After Gerd left the tent, Harld said to me: 'Please watch him during it. Don't interfere. Tell me everything. Maybe he showcases a talent he can give to the clan.' I still heard the mourning in his voice, knowing that his son won't survive this task.
“Gerd and I set off, and after I brought him to the forest and said my farewell, I went into hiding, observing him without him noticing.
“Yes, I know: You all are saying 'I know how this ends, Gerd can't possibly survive on his own, and if he survived, we would know it!' But the question is not 'Did he survive?', but 'How did he die?'. Because you all now know of how inept, how hopeless he was, there should be several ways in your mind.
“'Did he try to make fire and set the forest ablaze?'
“'Was he bitten by a snake and died by its poison?'
“'Did he find a monster and was slaughtered without even realizing what would sink its teeth in him?'
“'Did he starve to death, because he couldn't hunt anything?'
“'Did he eat a plant that upset his stomach so badly that he lacked the strength to do anything after that?'
“These are the questions crossing your mind, right? I personally thought he would try to eat stones to quench his thirst, but even I couldn't foresee his biggest blunder yet.
“So far, I carried his tools and weapons, as he was too weak to carry them himself, but I certainly wasn't willing to carry him like his father did whenever we journeyed to a new place. So he walked on his own two feet, and he didn't notice that he stepped into a hedgehog on the way. Its quills had been in his foot for a day and he was so slow that he finally noticed the pain when he was alone. He noticed the bleeding, and then he lifted his foot to look under the sole.
“He lost his balance and fell on his head, breaking his neck before I could even blink. It was not a weapon, not a monster, not hunger, just his clumsiness. I was afraid to even tell his father this, as this would not only break his heart, but his pride as well. His son didn't even last five minutes on his own.
“Even though he was a disgrace, I'm very thankful for Gerd. He showed us that it doesn't matter who you are and who your parents are, as long as you can only depend on others, you will never be able to stand on your own and survive. It shows us that even if you insist, you can only do what you can do, and if you try to reach further, you will get hurt or die.
“You can only call yourself an adult if you can take care of yourself, and the moment you can do it, you can take care of others. Only those who can do that can help the clan survive. And those who can't don't deserve to leech off our few goods.
“Farewell Gerd, may you serve generations of barbarians as an example of what not to be.”
The elder ends, and I notice how even I was enthralled by this story for a while, even though everything inside me resists the moral of this story to the core.
Of course the barbarians cheer and knock on their knees, paying respect to their elder and his story, but even the farmers nod in approval, and I realize that such values are much closer to their reality than to mine. They only have limited resources and they need everyone to play their part.
I take a look at Ara-san, who still has no doubt on her. “This sets the bar high. He told the story like he witnessed it, and it resonates with the people here. Fufufu.” I don't like that laugh, especially considering that she now seems to be eager to compete with him. “I have analyzed what these people liked about this story and I will provide them with one even more suited to their taste.”
Yeah, Ara-san knows a lot of stories, though all of them are hero-related, there are some fairy tales among them, which would fit here. These people only know these archaic types, so having Ara-san with her modern mindset here, using the prior story as a reference, she may still have a shot.
“Now to my story. I'm Ara'ainn, the hero-sage, and I have lived for more than a century.” First flaw, Ara-san's facial expressions are very limited. Now that I can read her spirit, I tend to forget it, so even if her intro was acceptable, it lacks the warmth the elder had. “Let me tell you the story of a human I met at this time, his name was Mops.” OK, this is close enough. “Mops always had trouble putting on his trouser, a pain each of you may understand, as he was too fat and too horny all the time.”
ARGH! Of course! In her deluded alfr-mind, 'suited for their taste' meant that she noticed that these people were impressed about a useless person, which then meant that she takes that, bring it to hundred by adding her bias about fat and sex-driven humans, and make it more of a joke overall, which will certainly offend everyone here!
Stop Ara-san, turn back, try to make another story! I try my best to convey my feelings to her.
She nods at me, telling me she has everything under control. “So what did Mops do? He tried to put his penis into a knothole.”
...I think we lost that round.
―○●○―
“Ah, Momo! Don't tear them off, don't-”
I answer her plea in a low voice: “Not. A. Single. Word. Now!” The laughter we get from the barbarians is partly spiteful, partly amused. I'm sure, if the challenge would have been a comedy routine, Arako and I would have won it by now.
Of course we lost, as even the people we are trying to protect were so appalled by her story, especially when she started to have her protagonist 'pork a porcupine'.
“KAHAHAHA!” Grekk-san is the only one who rolls on the floor because of the story, acting like his life isn't on the line. “What happened to the carpenter?”
I feel Arako's ears twitch in my hands, then she says: “He disinfected his saw and now always wears gloves when working.” I pinch a bit to make her squirm in pain a bit. Seriously, every single time!
Don't get me wrong, I genuinely like her, but her antics only become funny as a memory, never as an experience! “They were counting on us!”
“Momo, I did my best. I admit my shortcoming of understanding the human psyche. Who would have thought that holding up a mirror to them would be met with displeasure?”
“What of that was a mirror!? It's just a bunch of nonsensical prejudices!”
“Kyou-san,” Ken finally decides to say a word here? You are so slow, you---massive moron! “Let her go. She may be at fault, but we also should have known better, put a story together for her and train her to recite it properly.”
He's right, but still... still... “Sigh.” I let go of her ears. I'm doing it only for you, Ken.
Arako gets close to my ears, whispering: “You see? You do everything for the promise of sex!”
No, I won't let her taunt me with this. If I ignore her, she will calm down again and become as reasonable as she can be. In the end, she did think this through and had no ill intention, it was just her not knowing better, followed by a rebellious mood.
I look at Ken, and he seems to be in unrest. While he was confident when the possible Challenges of the Chieftains were decided, he now has all the pressure on him, even a life in his hand. Rine-chan is taking his hand, calming him down, but I put my hand on his shoulder now as well. I want to say 'I trust you', but for Ken 'trust' is a very heavy word. A 'You got it!' would just intensify the pressure. So I’ll make a small change there: “Do it.”
“Phew...” He sighs, but Ken takes it the right way and nods. It's not a matter of if he can do it, he has to do it. That's how he works best. That's also why I'm his girlfriend. I don't need a man that makes promises and tries his best, I want someone who does what is needed every single time.
Rine-chan can take care of his softer sides. I will demand a lot of you, Ken. In return, I will also give you whatever you need, be it healing, be it food, or my help.
I fight against the smile that wants to grow on my face, as I must be strict for now, but plan to be gentle later.
Ken gently separates from Rine and faces Brumm-san, who hands over his colored die to Grekk-san. My boyfriend looks at the sides of the die and then announces: “Red is the battle with disarm. The red-brown is the battle with touching the back of the head. The orange one is making fire. Light brown scavenger hunt. Gray is thumb war. Dark gray is janken.“ Wow, this die may have six colors that everyone can distinguish easily, but still are rather similar.
Grekk-san rolls the die on his hand then he lets it fall.
We came up with Ken's challenges. Fighting until he touches the behind of Brumm's head is in fact a test of his [Stealth]-skills, using [Distract] to make an opening and then vanish from Brumm's eyes immediately, making him second-guess every moment.
Scavenger hunt would test his [Perception] and his mastery of ranger-skills. While barbarians live in the wilderness, their chieftains aren't hunters and they should lack useful skills in this area.
Janken would use Ken's [Perception] once more, as he could predict what Brumm is throwing with [Focus], allowing him to change his hand the moment afterward.
Ken also opened up how he would face the other challenges. Fight until disarm would probably be done with his new combo of [Inspirit] and [Entangle].
Fire-making would use his backpack, which opens to a pocket dimension, to carry vast amounts, while his [Camping]-skill also allows him to make fire extremely quickly.
Only thumb war has no easy win, as he may use [Distract] to get an advantage, but he still had to overcome someone with much more power in his hand.
So please, no thumb war! No gray!
OH, COME ON!
Ken stares at the die, then he smil- smirks. He smirks. “Phew, thumb war? Ready to lose?” I would like to say that he’s just trying to overplay his insecurity, but that's not how he works. Unless I instruct him to do so, that is.
Did he find a way to beat that challenge as well? Why is he changing to [Student]!? He even put on his glasses.
“Oh, Red Ranger?” His opponent taunts him while holding back his laughter: “Do you believe that more fat on your fingers will make them harder to hold?” The barbarians are laughing, while the people from the farms really seem concerned. They never saw Ken that way, after all!
Instead of answering, Ken lifts his open hand, ready to let Brumm hook his fingers with his. With a fierce look, Brumm does exactly that, then Ken turns to Grekk-san: “Give the signal, Jii-san.”
“Yes.... GO!”
*Slap* As Brumm's thumb makes a frontal assault, Ken's moves like a lightning bolt, hitting it aside, then it pushes against the side of the barbarian's thumb and from here, it looks like it's vibrating.
Brumm's face contorts in anger, he tries to push Ken's thumb aside, but it quickly changes side, pushing now Brumm's other side while... that's not vibrating, it's more like hitting like a jackhammer! “Damn you, Red Ranger!”
“I'm not beating you as a ranger. I'm doing it as a gamer.”