"Hmm, I see. A heavy task has been placed on your shoulders has it not?" The voice of the village head could be heard, his tone becoming a slight bit heavier as he continued to speak.
With a sigh he takes another look at the plank given to him, on it is the information that Kenki had managed to gather on the wolf pack behind the caravan attack. Their numbers, the location of their attack, the size of the wolves as well as some other less important details.
Subconsciously he judges the handwriting. It is messy and uncoordinated - a lot of it not even managing to stay on a single straight line, instead veering off course up and down. It would be taken as an insult if it were presented to any governing body.
Turan lifts his head, finally laying his eyes on the boy in front of him. The ten year old had gone through a large transformation over the course of the last three years. The physical training, combined with the food provided to him by the cultivator had given Kenki the body of someone several years his senior.
'It looks like it's time for him to begin walking down his own path.' Turan muses, a barely perceivable smile on his face.
"That's why I'm here. How did you deal with the wolves the last time something like this happened, I doubt this is the first time an incident like this has occurred."
"Hoh hoh." Turan laughs in a way that grates on Kenki's nerves. "I'm afraid that I am unable to help you in this regard." The man shakes his head with a bitter smile. He explains himself before Ken has time to protest. "While it's true that this is far from the first time wolves have attacked a caravan there's nothing that I'm capable of doing. It maybe would have been different had the caravan been attacked on the way to Themten, that way they could have asked the military base there for help in clearing out the problem, and even then it would not be guaranteed that they'd help."
"What, so you just camp out and wait until spring?"
"Indeed. There was this one time when the wolves were brazen enough to directly attack the village, naturally they forced the guardian cultivator's hand and were wiped out." Stroking his long beard, Turan's eyes suddenly glint as he remembers something.
'I have no doubt in my mind that our dear cultivator is listening in to this conversation. She has placed three whole years of work into him so she won't just send him to his death… I guess it won't hurt to help him just a little bit'
"A little interesting fact about wolves, they don't seem to be capable of forgetting the taste of human meat…"
Kenki looks at Turan with an odd expression as he hears those words, clearly asking 'where are you going with this?'
"... that is why, every single time after a person has been devoured by wolves, no matter the season or situation, I have to hire hunters or even mercenaries to go and exterminate at least a couple of them. To keep them afraid of humans, make them avoid the paths that we walk and such. As to why I'm mentioning this… you should be able to figure out the rest yourself, no?"
"I'm still only ten years old, ya know? You expect me to figure what out?" Kenki responds, his face drained of emotion.
"Hoh hoh hoh!" Turan couldn't help himself as he began to laugh.
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Ken closes the door behind himself as he leaves what must have been the eleventh house he'd tried his luck in. He curses under his breath as he leaves the vicinity of the property.
"The hunters in this village are spineless." Ken kicks a small rock in his frustration. It is sent flying into the distance.
'Well, at least I was able to confirm that when wolves hunt they bring along the entire pack. I was also given the relative position of their den. While they have no desire to help me hunt the wolves down they are still cautious because of my status as the cultivator's messenger. They can't just tell me to piss off.' Ranting in his mind Kenki walks to the final location given to him by the village head. The final hunter in the village.
He takes a look at the sky.
The massive sun of this world is still in its position, however it is greatly smaller when compared to its size during the summer. Thirty to forty percent of the original size to be exact. The reduction in size also comes with a reduction of the heat it radiates unto the earth, thus causing the winter.
It is obscured by the thick winter clouds so Ken is able to directly stare without risking injury to his retinas.
He sighs as a large clump of snowflakes falls on his nose. They melt, causing a mildly uncomfortable sensation to spread.
'It's been snowing for more than a week.'
With a mental shake of his head Ken concentrates. He still has a lot of work to do!
It takes some time for him to find the last house as it is located in the more run-down part of the village. The paths there had not been cleared using shovels and equipment, Instead a single small trail had been naturally carved into the waist high snow by the passing of previous villagers. Of course, many people walking down the same trail had compressed the snow under their feet more and more - to the point where it had formed into ice. As such Ken has no choice but to inch his way forwards agonizingly slowly, only the upper part of his torso staying above the snow.
'Is this the place?' confusion flashes through Ken's features as he lays his eyes on the house in the distance. 'It looks kind of… run down?'
It takes Ken only a little bit of observation to notice some inconsistencies. The two story house that is falling apart, one part of its roof looking like it has caved in. The disrepair of the outward fence, an obvious spiritual wheat field - overgrown with bushes and relatively small trees, something that must have taken years to happen.
'That old man doesn't have dementia, right? It looks like nobody has lived here for at least a decade.' Ken checks the list once more before looking up to the wooden street sign he'd just passed
'This is the place alright. There isn't even a trail through the snow. If somebody's there they haven't left since winter began… might as well go and check it out.' With a look of exasperation Kenki walks to the broken down fence of the property. He tears off two of the wooden planks and then uses them to craft a makeshift pair of snowshoes. He ties them to his geta using the thin and half rotting rope that had held the planks together moments prior. His unprotected hands sting from the cold as he works.
'If I had a thermometer I bet it would show something like minus twenty or minus thirty degrees celsius.'
With a bit of effort Ken climbs on top of the snow. He looks a bit comical with the two planks attached as he begins waddling to the house. At least they do their job.
'I'll have to craft some good snowshoes that I can actually run in when I get back. Having this attached to my feet when wolves are chasing after me is a death sentence.'
As Ken gets closer and closer to the last house he tries to listen in for any sounds that would indicate human activity. His eyes glint as he notices that the snow in front of the main door had been cleared out.
'Lucky~' he smiles as he approaches.
Ken removes his makeshift snowshoes before knocking on the door.
Alas, there is no response. He knocks again and again - each time increasing the strength but still, nobody answers him.
"Hello?" Ken finally decides to yell, only then does he hear a response.
"Bah! Is it so much of an ask to be left the hells alone!?" A shout of a man, loud enough for Ken to wince, is heard. It is followed by a crashing noise that Kenki recognises as the shattering of wood.
"Emperor's balls!" Another shout, this one more subdued, resounds. With heavy steps like a giant lumbering forwards, the man makes his way to the front door. Despite his obvious dissatisfaction the door is opened gently. It isn't slammed open like Ken expected it to.
"Huh?" The man raises an eyebrow the moment he lays his eyes on Kenki. Scratching his bald head in confusion.
'He kind of looks like Isran from Skyrim. Well, with a salt and pepper beard but still, there's quite the resemblance. His voice fits too.
"Aren't you the kid that cultivator picked up?"