Chapter 3: First meeting (1)

Upon waking, I would kick open the door, chew on grass, and begin preparing for my training.

It was a day perfectly cast from a factory mold, and I was about to begin it again.

…had this fellow not been lying right before my eyes.

****

How much time had truly elapsed since I secluded myself within these mountains, I couldn’t say with any certainty.

I could only speculate, ‘It must have been decades,’ and there was a distinct reason for my vague estimation.

“Hmm… let me see.”

During my inaugural year within these mountains, I, too, had meticulously kept track of the days.

The tally marks etched into the walls of the very hut I constructed served as undeniable proof.

Yet, as my initially haphazard training began to coalesce and truly take root, I became so utterly engrossed that my perception of time, and with it, the passage of days, virtually evaporated.

I simply lost all track of the precise flow of time.

There’s a common saying, isn’t there, that when one is deeply focused on something, the passage of time becomes imperceptible?

For all I knew, while I was consumed by my training, the very entity dubbed the world’s final boss might have long since been vanquished.

In any case, why am I so abruptly delving into the topic of time already gone by?

The reason is quite simple.

Since first setting foot in these mountains, I had not once encountered another human being.

Even the brigands frequently depicted in novels seemed entirely absent from these peaks.

My best guess was that the creatures inhabiting these mountains were so fearsome they deterred even the most audacious of trespassers from lingering.

And indeed, when I first ventured into this mountain, I, too, had shivered with genuine terror.

I had even come to regret ever setting foot in these parts.

…This wasn’t born of cowardice on my part, but rather a conviction that anyone else would have found the experience equally terrifying.

Consider this: the very first creature I encountered upon entering these mountains was a wolf, easily three times my own size.

The colossal bear I subsequently encountered generated such fierce wind pressure with each swing of its massive forepaws.

In such a predicament, who wouldn’t be seized by fear?

Though I harbored a deep fondness for fantasy, the moment I felt truly threatened, my mind would simply reel.

Someone might very well hear my account and pose the question, ‘Why are you even here?’

As I mentioned earlier, upon my initial arrival in these mountains, I had vehemently regretted my decision.

Naturally, given the grotesque appearance of every animal I encountered, my immediate instinct was to flee.

However, there was one crucial detail I had overlooked.

I was, in fact, utterly hopeless with directions.

Furthermore, in my desperate flight, I lost all sense of my location, the exit vanishing from my awareness.

Still… that’s all in the past now.

Just memories.

Am I not living quite respectably now?

Moreover, I had even exacted my revenge upon those very animals that once threatened me.

While the game meat possessed a rather gamy odor, it proved surprisingly palatable.

…It seems my narrative has veered slightly off course, but regardless.

As I previously elaborated, this mountain is undeniably perilous.

Thus, there was simply no way a human being could be lying before my eyes.

“Huh…”

Yet, who was this individual, sprawled so comfortably before the entrance of someone else’s home?

Their chest rose and fell with a regular rhythm, indicating they were certainly not deceased.

‘…Who could this be?’

Squinting, I scrutinized their appearance.

“Black hair…?”

Uncommonly dark black hair, long enough to practically envelop their entire body, suggested either a deliberate refusal to cut it or simply a lack of opportunity.

The child, whose emaciated limbs spoke of days, if not longer, without food, and who wore tattered rags that appeared more suited for mopping floors than clothing, had…

…how on earth had they managed to reach this remote location?

“Hmm…”

The rare black hair suggested they might be a character plucked straight from a novel.

Typically, in fantasy novels of this sort, even if a black-haired individual isn’t the protagonist, they are at the very least a significant supporting character.

Of course, this was merely speculation.

‘What should I do?’

Being naturally timid, I tended to be cautious in my actions.

If I were to help this child now, there was no telling what kind of butterfly effect it might unleash.

How had I managed to prolong my life thus far?

Had I not lived each day in abject humility, secluded deep within these mountains, striving to leave as little impact as possible?

So, was there truly a need now to take such a monumental gamble by aiding a child who might very well be a character from a novel?

…And yet.

If I were to prioritize only my own well-being and neglect to help this child, what fate would befall them?

“…”

My deliberation did not last long.

Regrettably, while I was an overly timid individual, I was not so heartless as to simply ignore a child in such a visibly dire state.

‘…I’ll help them until their condition improves, then send them on their way.’

That would be the extent of my assistance.

Rationalizing my actions, I hoisted the fallen child onto my shoulder, intending to carry them into the hut.

“…They’re even lighter than I expected.”

This realization underscored the severity of the child’s condition, prompting a fleeting thought that I should rouse them quickly and offer some food; however,

“No, that’s not right.”

It would only become troublesome if they woke up and thrashed about.

I decided to postpone feeding them, resolving instead to first remove their soiled clothes.

“Hmm…”

While divesting an unconscious child of their clothes might sound somewhat improper,

I needed to check for any injuries, and surely, a dirty body would only hinder their recovery?

Cleansing them was the immediate priority.

“Is it a girl?”

The long, unkempt hair had initially raised a slight concern that the child might be a girl, but…

“Well, it probably doesn’t matter much.”

After all, I was a woman myself.

With such a somewhat carefree thought, I proceeded to undress the child, and upon confirming they were a boy, I exhaled a sigh of relief.

“What a relief.”

While I uttered the words, I couldn’t shake the feeling that if it truly had been a girl, it would have felt somewhat like committing a transgression.

Still, it was a profound relief that he was a boy.

I dampened a towel I had kept since first arriving in the mountains and began to gently cleanse the boy’s body.

“No injuries, then.”

With the towel, which felt as though it had been washed at least six times over, I meticulously cleaned every inch of his body.

And so, for a considerable time, I diligently scrubbed away the grime, focusing intently on the more stubborn areas.

“…Is this sufficient?”

Gazng at the now spotless boy, I mimed wiping sweat from my brow.

“Let’s see… any spare clothes…”

I couldn’t very well leave him naked, so I ought to dress him in whatever spare clothes I had.

The garments the boy had originally worn were in such abysmal condition that I decided to clothe him in a set of my own everyday wear.

“Hmm, that looks alright.”

Now, aside from his still unkempt hair, he presented a fairly respectable appearance.

“If only that hair were tidied, he’d look truly impeccable.”

The thought, ‘Should I just cut it off?’ briefly crossed my mind, but then I hesitated.

What if this world was steeped in Confucian ideals, where people might exclaim, ‘Hair is also a part of the body, a gift from our parents!’?

“Sigh, such is my lot in life.”

After gently washing his hair with water, I laid the now unrecognizably transformed boy onto the floor.

“Ugh…”

The boy then curled into himself, his brows furrowed, leading me to suspect he felt cold due to his still-damp hair.

“…I should give him something to cover himself with.”

With a deep sigh, I draped a few shabby cloths over the boy’s body.

“This should suffice, right?”

After all, I myself hadn’t thought to bring proper bedding when I first came to the mountain, making do instead with a self-stitched leather pouch stuffed with leaves.

‘It’s a shame it’s not a warm blanket, but…’

…It’s certainly better than nothing at all.

More importantly, the boy’s face now showed a measure of comfort, so he would surely be fine.

“Wake up soon.”

I gave the boy’s head a gentle pat, then stepped out of the hut once more.

Though an unexpected guest, he was my very first visitor to this home, so I felt obligated to offer him something to eat.

There was nothing in the hut suitable for the boy to consume.

I plunged into the dense foliage, intent on hunting an animal that would help the boy regain his strength.

****

The boy’s face was utterly devoid of emotion, as he stared blankly.

He simply gazed, vacant-eyed, at the fiercely burning flames.

‘Was I truly, utterly, that wrong?’

His sanctuary, the cherished haven of his loved ones, was being devoured by fire, all because of him.

The very house he had called home was now ablaze, consumed by flames he had seemingly ignited.

‘Even so, was this truly necessary? Was it worth all of this?’

Beyond the crumbling pillars of the collapsing house, the arm of what appeared to be his mother was visible.

‘Is this real? Is this what’s supposed to happen?’

Within his vacant eyes, he witnessed his family being swallowed by the ferocious inferno.

“…”

The entire situation felt utterly surreal.

“Is this the house the Lord spoke of?”

“Indeed, it’s burning quite fiercely.”

Turning at the sound of the voices, he saw the knights and guards, supposedly tasked with protecting this very village.

Their expressions bore no hint of sorrow.

No empathy.

No pity.

No guilt.

“Tsk, why did they have to defy him so?”

Instead, there was only a chilling gaze, a stark contrast to the raging inferno, as they regarded the flames with utter contempt, as if watching rubbish burn.

“…Defied.”

Hearing the knight’s words, the boy once more began to ponder his actions.

And yet.

“Why did they go to such extremes…?”

His mind remained riddled with unanswered questions.

“Hm? What, are you that insolent little brat?”

Insolent little brat – yes, that phrase undoubtedly referred to him.

The boy was fearless by nature, always speaking his mind the moment a thought occurred to him.

Adults would often describe such a boy as honest, or, in harsher terms, an insolent brat.

And the boy liked that.

Even when adults called him an insolent brat, the subsequent offer of an extra piece of bread always brought him even greater joy.

It felt as though his actions, his thoughts, and his very values were being affirmed as correct.

His mother, too, had always told him that honesty was a virtue.

And his father had always told him that he was admirable and praiseworthy for being just as he was.

But now.

“Sob… Why, why did you have to go this far…?”

In this moment, the adult’s dismissive words, ‘insolent brat,’ pierced the boy’s chest like an ice pick, inflicting an unbearable pain.

“Tsk… Just consider yourself unlucky.”

Thereafter, the guard continued to speak of various things, but his words failed to register in the boy’s ears.

Matters of money, taxes, and land value were concepts far too premature for the boy to grasp.

And even if it had been done as an example, it remained utterly incomprehensible to his core values.

As the guard droned on, the boy’s mind began to reel, a faint dizziness washing over him.

“Our family truly, sob, had no money…”

The boy’s words were the unvarnished truth.

His family comprised a father who ventured out daily to hunt for their next meal, and a mother who, each day, went to the market, striving to sell his father’s meager catches for even a slightly higher price.

Despite their arduous efforts, they never put the earnings into their own mouths, instead sacrificing everything for the boy—a family not wealthy in possessions, but immeasurably rich in spirit.

That was the kind of family they were.

The guard, upon hearing the boy’s plea, furrowed his brow and averted his gaze.

“…You shouldn’t openly defy the Lord, he ranted that his authority would be undermined!”

“Authority…?”

Such complex words were beyond the boy’s comprehension.

He merely understood it, in context, as something akin to pride.

“You dared to shout at the Lord without fear… Tsk, come with me.

The Lord himself has summoned you.”

So, what this man was implying was…

…that their home had been set ablaze solely because of the Lord’s inflated pride?

Truly?

Merely, merely, because of his pride?

His own parents, who had sacrificed their pride to labor and feed him?

“Come quietly, and perhaps the Lord will show you at least a modicum of mercy.”

The guard closed his mouth as if he had said all there was to say, then began to extend his hand, intending to lead the boy to the Lord.

“Don’t you dare…”

An inexplicable surge of revulsion welled within the boy at the sight of the outstretched hand, and he violently slapped it away.

“This impudent brat!”

No matter how he reasoned, he simply couldn’t find fault in his own actions.

He had merely acted as he had been taught by his proud mother and father.

What the boy had witnessed and learned from his parents was this:

“Wasn’t that bastard, that damned Lord, the one in the wrong for striking my mother?”

Always prioritizing his family above himself.

Just as his mother had always cared for his father.

Just as his father had always protected his mother.

“I, I merely tried to intervene because my mother looked hurt… Was that, was that truly so wrong as to warrant the death of everyone?”

No, he had not been wrong.

No matter how much the boy pondered, the one truly at fault was that damned Lord of this domain.

He was the problem.

“No… you’re a bastard too!

You claimed to be guards, meant to protect us… So why are you only listening to that scoundrel and passing judgment?!”

The guards, no, every single one of them was the problem.

“You are not human.”

Those who cowered in the background, unable to raise their own voices, were not truly human.

“You’re nothing more, and nothing less, than beasts too busy wagging your tails for your master.”

In the boy’s mind, they were no different from animals confined within a cage.

“Get lost… you bastard.”