Hell Mode: Volume 1, page 18
“How about a simple iron bar the size of this wooden sword? How much would that be?” Allen asked, pointing to the weapon at his waist.
“Hm, twenty silvers.”
Oof, it’s still quite expensive. That’s still two albaherons.
Allen wanted to improve his gear, but he could not do so just for the sake of self-satisfaction. The albaheron meat was, at the end of the day, to be used for the entire family. And so he gave up and left the weapons store.
All right, it doesn’t look like there’s anything else for me to check out. Let’s get the firewood and go home.
“Oh, you’re the kid from last time. Firewood again?”
Did he remember me from last time? “Yes, please. Here is the meat.”
Once again, Allen tied sixty kilograms of firewood to his shoulder rack and stood up easily. He bowed courteously to the merchant who went, “You really are something, kid,” then headed home. There were quite a lot of people out and about, as it was currently around ten o’clock in the morning. They all stared at the boy who was carrying firewood several times his weight.
As he continued walking, paying no mind to all the attention he was drawing, Allen suddenly found his way blocked by a familiar face. It was the boy with the country bumpkin face, Dogora.
“You really came! What are you here for, Black Hair?!”
Dogora had likely heard from his father, the weapons merchant, that Allen had come to the village center. Perhaps he considered this part of his turf, judging by how he seemed to be picking a fight.
“Hm? To buy firewood,” Allen answered coolly, trying to walk past Dogora and making it clear he had no intention of engaging with him.
“Hey, don’t ignore me! You running away?!” Dogora used the palm of his hand to push Allen’s chest, taking issue with the other boy’s attitude.
Allen backed away a few steps and readjusted the firewood on his back to regain his balance. “What’re you doing?”
“You can’t pass here!” Dogora declared with a wide smirk, convinced of his victory by Allen’s nonresistance. “I’ll let you pass only if you become my henchman.”
In response, Allen wordlessly went to lower his rack at the side of the road, out of the way of passersby. He recalled back to when he was gaming as Kenichi. At the time, he was somewhat famous among the gaming forums. Despite having a full-time job, it was not uncommon for people to refer to him as a gaming addict in comments. Normally “gaming addict” was a title reserved for those who had truly given over every aspect of their entire life to gaming. There were some who disagreed, but the general opinion was that normies who were plugged into real society—such as by being properly employed—could not earn this title.
Kenichi’s playstyle had been straightforward and simple: to get stronger, he would forge better weapons and kill higher-level mobs. He had zero interest in gathering unnecessary collectibles or training crafting skills that had no bearing on fighting strength. He also ignored all seasonal and holiday in-game events.
This of course meant that he did not care for PVP, or player-versus-player fights. He would not get XP—which meant he would not get stronger—from defeating other players. Therefore, his preferred opponents were monsters, not players. However, being famous meant he was subjected to “fame tax,” a term that referred to how those who were in the public spotlight would attract unwanted attention.
When Kenichi’s in-game character went out to hunt, he would get attacked by “player killers,” players who specifically hunted other players. Some did it for fun, some did it to steal people’s equipment, and some for other reasons.
Kenichi’s chosen response to those who hunted him was to beat them at their own game. He did not care if they were middle schoolers, housewives, or so-called “e-girls.” He killed every last person who got in the way of his grinding.
Seeing Allen lowering his rack, Dogora asked, “Oh? You really want to be my henchman?”
“You seriously think that?” Allen responded, drawing the wooden sword from his hip. He held it up with both hands, keeping the tip at chest height.
“What?!” Dogora, who was unarmed, unconsciously took a step backward. He had not expected Allen to actually use the weapon that he was carrying.
“Well, come on. We doing this or what?”
“Th-That’s so cheap!”
“Would you say the same on a battlefield, Knight of the Ax?”
Due to his three years of playing knight with Krena, Allen had gotten quite used to speaking like a knight. His words came out naturally.
“Huh?!”
“I’ll wait. I don’t care what—go get a weapon of your own, Sir Dogora, Knight of the Ax.”
“You said it! Don’t you dare run away!” Dogora rushed off, then came back in no time, carrying something huge in his hands. When he got close enough, Allen saw that it was a large, round pole that looked like a pestle. It had likely been just lying around in the weapons store.
Seeing Dogora simply hold the stick up, Allen asked provocatively, “You scared? Aren’t you gonna attack?”
“RAAAAAAHHHH!” Red filled Dogora’s face as the blood rushed to his head, and he charged forward, signaling the start of their playing knight.
The boy with a bumpkin face swung his weapon with brute force again and again, and the black-haired boy skillfully parried each and every one of those attacks with his wooden sword. There were quite a lot of spectators, but they all stayed silent.
So, he’s an Ax User. I do remember a game I played having a class called Ax Warrior. Well, we started fighting but...what should I do about this?
Allen had not really thought things through before starting the fight. All he knew was that he should not draw blood, as this was not just a mere game. He continued racking his brains for how best to end this fight while continuing to deflect Dogora’s onslaught.
“What—huff—What’s wrong? Haahh, are you not—gasp—gonna attack?” Dogora asked in provocation, panting heavily from the exertion.
Allen gave him a measured look, then decided to put more strength into his parries, changing up the timing of his own swings so that he was not merely deflecting Dogora’s blows.
It was now December, which meant albaheron hunting season was over. Harvesting was also done, and Rodin was recovering steadily. In short, there was no particular need for Allen to bolster his Strength stat anymore, so he had swapped out many of his Beast F cards with Grass F instead. The more MP he had, the more he could train his skills. Even so, he had left himself with more strength than the average adult, to say nothing of a child near his own age.
“OOF!” Dogora was sent flying even though Allen’s blow had landed on his weapon, not him directly. He swore and was about to get back up when he found the tip of a wooden sword right in front of his nose.
“You still want to continue?” Allen asked.
Dogora growled with frustration. He was completely out of breath. Although he continued glaring, he made no move to stand up, so Allen went to shoulder his rack again.
“Sir Dogora, Knight of the Ax.”
“Wh-What?”
“I’ll be passing by again two days later at this same time.”
“Huh?!”
Allen shot Dogora, who was still on the ground, one final look before resuming making his way home.
＊ ＊ ＊
The year turned, spring came and left, and it was now early September. The late summer heat still lingered in the air. Allen would be turning seven next month. The sun beat down on him mercilessly as he stood in the garden of Krena’s house.
“I’m fighting you next, Allen.”
“Come at me any time, Dogora.”
Dogora tightened his grip on his club, then rushed toward Allen.
“Dammit, why can’t I hit you?”
“As I keep saying, I’m predicting your moves.”
“I know that!”
These two were currently playing knight. The reason for this could be traced back to December of the previous year. Two days after they fought for the first time, Allen was making his way back home from trading for his family’s necessities when he found Dogora waiting for him once more, raring to go. This time, the other boy had brought a club instead of a pestle, likely due to it being easier to use as a weapon.
Dogora had been hoping to take revenge, but Allen once again managed an overwhelming victory as a matter of course. Dogora had said, “We’re doing this again in two days!” This eventually continued all the way till the end of December.
However, by then Allen had gathered more than enough firewood and salt for his family to last the winter, what with having come visit the village center almost every other day for a whole month. When he told Dogora that he would be cutting back the frequency of his visits starting in January, Dogora said, “You running away?!”
So Allen consulted Krena and asked if she would be interested in letting Dogora join their playing knight sessions. She immediately agreed, ecstatic about gaining a new playmate. The next day, Allen told Dogora to come to Krena’s house if he wanted to fight again. The boy replied, “You got it!” on the spot. After that, the three of them began to meet at Krena’s house practically every day. They used Krena’s house as the gathering point because hers was closer to the residential area than Allen’s. And that more or less summed up the current situation.
“Hah! Sir Pelomas the Knight! Is that all you got?!”
“Ugh... YAAAH!”
Out of the corner of his eye, Allen watched Krena and Pelomas, the village chief’s son, in the middle of their own match. Dogora had invited Pelomas to come, as the two of them had been friends beforehand. Their friendship was the reason why Dogora and his father had sat at the same table as the knight captain during the feast at the village chief’s house.
Pelomas’s dream was to become a merchant in the future, and so he was rather half-hearted about playing knight. His general attitude made it very clear that he had been dragged here by Dogora against his will. Even so, he still showed up every second or third day. The reason for this lay with his father, the village chief. These play knight sessions were an opportunity to play together and forge a relationship with Krena, a Sword Lord who might even serve the royal family in the future. Pelomas found himself both pushed forward by his father and dragged along by Dogora. There was nowhere for him to escape.
There was one other person who was participating in these play knight sessions—Mash, who had turned three in December. Theresia had granted him permission to leave the house so long as he was with Allen. As such, ever since the play sessions had been relocated to Krena’s house, he had been coming almost every day.
In total, there were five children: Allen, Krena, Mash, Dogora, and Pelomas.
“Mash, here I come!”
“Okay, Allen!”
Mash’s weapon was quite long; he was not using a sword, but a spear.
At first, Allen had made Mash a wooden sword that matched his smaller size. However, he suddenly begged to have a go at using Allen’s sword, which was twice his in length. Allen handed it over and watched in concern as his younger brother handled the weapon that was nearly the same size as him, but then realized that his movements had actually improved. In short, using a spear suited Mash more than using a sword did. Based on this information, Allen had then made a more spear-like weapon for his brother.
“Yah!”
“That’s good, Mash.”
So this is Talent. I’m looking forward to his Appraisal Ceremony two years from now.
Mash’s thrusts were sharp and accurate. What’s more, they were improving further by the day. Allen firmly believed that Mash possessed a class related to using the spear, though there was no way to confirm this until he was Appraised as a five-year-old.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
“Aw shucks, it’s already time?”
“C’mon, Dogora, let’s go home.”
It was the three o’clock bell. Dogora and Pelomas always went home at this time. Because they would head over at the noon bell and arrive at around one o’clock, the playing knight sessions lasted roughly two hours for the two of them. The boys bade farewell to the other three children and headed off.
After playing a while longer, Allen and Mash also left for home. At first, Mash would get so exhausted from these play sessions that he would beg Allen to give him piggybacks, but now, he was strong enough to make it back on his own two feet. Allen could not have been happier to witness his younger brother’s growth.
“We’re home!” the two boys cried out in unison as they stepped through the door.
“Welcome back, Allen, Mash,” Theresia answered from within. She was currently busy preparing dinner with her youngest child on her back. Allen hurried forward to help out.
This past February, Theresia had given birth to her third child without incident, a baby girl this time. As Theresia and Rodin had agreed that she would get to name all their daughters and he would get to name all the sons, she finally got her chance. She went with Myulla, derived from the Flower of Muellerze that had saved Rodin’s life. She had apparently decided on this name even before the child was born.
Allen honestly thought that, between his parents, his mother had the better naming sense. After all, “Allen” and “Mash” were both derived from monster names. Allen was now more than familiar with the monster that his name was based on, but he had yet to have the chance to meet Mash’s.
Once, while going on a supplies run with Gerda, Allen had asked him about the murdergalsh. As it turned out, this monster had once been responsible for blocking salt and fruit from reaching the village.
Murdergalshes were solitary creatures and would wander wherever they wanted. They kept no nests and had no interest in territory. Its appearance was like that of a giant wolf. It was supposedly twice as huge as a great boar, but Gerda said even he had never seen one in person before.
These monsters would sometimes temporarily settle down on the roads that ran between villages and cities. When this happened, the merchants and travelers that normally traversed those roads would have no choice but to either give up the journey or double back to take a huge detour. As a Rank B monster, the murdergalsh was not easy to defeat. There were times one would stay put for over a month, severely impacting the flow of goods and people. When that happened, the feudal lord’s chivalric order would be dispatched.
Gerda said he had vivid memories of when this had happened to another village. However, when the knights arrived on scene, the monster had already up and left for somewhere else. In the end, there was no subjugation.
Allen’s impression was that the murdergalsh was a monster that caused a lot of trouble all around. At the very least, it did not sound like the type that anyone would take a liking to. He stared at his younger brother, who was currently listlessly rolling about, and hoped that he would grow up into someone whom everyone would love.
“I’m back,” Rodin announced. He had made a complete recovery, returning to the fields in spring to sow the seeds. Now, he was back to being the one carrying fresh water every morning. Other than that, he spent the majority of his days in the fields.
Allen was also applying himself to farming, learning from his father. However, he did this only in the mornings. When he had suggested helping out the entire day, it was Gerda, not Rodin, who stopped him. The large man had even grabbed both of Allen’s shoulders, heavily stressing that “children should play outside while they’re children.” Allen still remembered how tightly Gerda had gripped him and how much it had hurt. So he now passed his days helping out in the fields in the morning and playing knight in the afternoons. Every day was very busy.
The family gathered around the sunken fireplace in the main room of the house and ate dinner. Spittle dribbled down Myulla’s face as Theresia spoon-fed her baby food, which was slowly being incorporated into her diet. Allen, who was starving from all the exercise he had gotten in the afternoon, devoured the steamed potatoes voraciously.
“You came home pretty late today,” Theresia suddenly said to Rodin.
In light of what had happened before, she would now get worried whenever Rodin returned late. He knew this and therefore would do his best to come home on time, but today had ended up being an exception.
“Mm, Deboji summoned me again,” Rodin answered, his brows drawing together into a frown.
Anger and alarm flashed through Theresia’s face, as Rodin’s huge injury last year had also been set off by a similar visit to the village chief’s house. She inadvertently leaned forward toward Rodin and asked anxiously, “Wh-What did he say?!”
Rodin froze, still holding onto his soup bowl and wooden spoon. Silence filled the air as he seemed to struggle for words, but he eventually said gravely, “He wants us to double the number of great boars we hunt to twenty in two years. To do this, he wants us to expand the hunting party to include both commoners and serfs.”
What Theresia feared the most had proven to be true. She blurted, “What?! B-But that’s...! After last year! He can’t be serious!” Because her sudden outburst had caused Myulla to burst into tears, she had to reach over and pacify her in a fluster.
“Father, can we continue this conversation after I put Myulla and Mash to bed?”
Both Rodin and Theresia looked over at Allen in surprise, “Huh?” escaping their lips at the same time. Their son was still spooning soup into his mouth calmly as if nothing had happened. The sight of it helped the two adults calm down somewhat and they resumed eating.
After dinner was over, Allen tucked Myulla and Mash in. Once he confirmed that they were fast asleep, he came out to the main room and found both Rodin and Theresia sitting silently, their heads lowered. Theresia was using both hands to slowly swirl a cup filled with boiled water, now lukewarm after cooling down.
“So, can we hear the rest of the story, father?”
“Mm.”
Rodin proceeded to go into detail. He had visited the village chief’s house together with Gerda, and was told that they had two years to double the number of great boars they hunted. What’s more, this was not a request from the village chief, but from the feudal lord directly.
