Hell Mode: Volume 1, page 26
When the group of three walked into the village chief’s house, they were told that the feudal lord was already waiting for them in the hall. They were allowed to pass straight through without even stopping to clean up, despite wearing hemp outfits stained with sweat and great boar blood. They complied and made their way over, finding Deboji waiting before the door. Together, the group of four walked into the room.
The tables had been cleared away and the feudal lord was sitting in a seat at the far end. The seat next to his was occupied by his daughter, Cecil. The butler, knight captain, and knight vice-captain stood lined up against the wall to their side.
After proceeding to the center of the room, the four stopped in a row, then kneeled with their heads bowed. Only then did the feudal lord open his mouth.
“First, Deboji. You have done well in overseeing this village’s development. Fifteen years have passed since the Land Reclamation Decree was issued. Many other fiefdoms have failed in their efforts to establish frontier villages, but Krena Village is an example of success unmatched by any other. Your stewardship is truly commendable, and you have my heartfelt thanks.” The feudal lord was repeating what he had said at last night’s feast. This village had turned out this way because Deboji had been at its helm. This was why the feudal lord started by praising him.
“Th-Thank you for your words of praise, milord.” Deboji lowered his head even further to express his gratitude.
“Next. Rodin, Gerda.”
“Yes, m’lord.”
“Yes, m’lord.”
“I have witnessed your great boar hunt with my own eyes. It was a remarkable sight indeed, one beyond description. To you, too, I give you my thanks as your lord.”
Although Lord Granvelle’s eyes were as sharp as ever, his voice was warm and genuine. Rodin and Gerda also lowered their heads deeply in response to the recognition they received.
“If I do nothing to reward such exemplary achievements, it would reflect badly on me as lord of this realm. Why, I would be shirking my duties.”
Here we go! It’s time for the quest rewards! Don’t give us money, we don’t need it! Make us commoners instead! Pretty please with a cherry on top! Allen focused all his attention to his ears even as his head remained bowed.
“Rodin and Gerda, you, as well as your wives and children, are commoners as of today. Fulfill your respective duties in your new capacity.”
Both men bowed once more and said in unison, “Thank you, m’lord.”
HELL YEAHHHH! I’m now a commoner! What should I do?! I have the right to go hunting outside the village whenever I want now! How ’bout I start with taking down the white dragon in the White Dragon Mountains?!
It took Allen all of his willpower not to start drooling. The dream he had been nursing for eight long years was finally about to come true. The corners of his mouth naturally curled upward in a grin.
After that, the feudal lord also granted commoner status to all the hunters who had been in the hunting party for over ten years, as well as their wives and children. He also promised that when the currently single hunters married, the same would be conferred on their spouses. In this way, everyone who had been hunting the great boars for over a decade finally received the recognition and reward due to them.
The feudal lord said to the village chief, “Make sure to check with each and every one of these men whether they wish to become a commoner or to remain a serf. Being a commoner comes with its own obligations, so this is voluntary. Report back to me afterward.”
Unlike serfs, commoners were subject to a head tax. The larger a family was, the more they would have to pay in taxes every year. As such, the feudal lord was giving everyone who qualified a choice.
“And with that, I have now fulfilled my duties as lord of this domain.”
Ensuring that his people could fulfill the royal decree of hunting twenty great boars was his duty. Now that he had done so, he could return home with peace of mind.
However, just as it seemed like the audience was wrapping up, the butler interjected, “Master, permission to speak?”
“Granted.”
“His Majesty also wished to know what prompted these men to start hunting great boars in the first place.”
“Hm? Oh, right! So he did. Thank you for the reminder, Sebas.”
What’s this now?
As the butler slightly nodded with his eyes closed, a look of puzzlement came over Rodin’s face. The feudal lord turned back to him.
“Apologies. This is not an official royal decree, but there is something that His Majesty wanted me to ask you on his behalf. Rodin—no, Boar Hunter Rodin.”
“Y-Yes, m’lord?”
“His Majesty was curious about what originally gave you the idea to hunt great boars.”
The Land Reclamation Decree had gone out to all fiefdoms in the kingdom. Amongst all the frontier villages nobles had struggled to establish, not only did Krena Village take hold, it had managed to produce a consistent supply of boar meat. Consequently, the king held it up as an example that the other nobles were to emulate. For the sake of the other nobles’ reference, he wanted to hear the full story of how the hunts started.
“The story...of how we started...” Rodin’s face clouded over. Silence filled the room as he visibly struggled to get his words out.
“Hm? What’s the matter?” the feudal lord asked, confused by Rodin holding his tongue on what was supposedly a tale of his own exploits, something that most men would leap at the opportunity to recount.
Just as he was about to press Rodin for a reason, Gerda interrupted. “I am very sorry, m’lord, but this story would be difficult for Rodin to tell. May I do so in his place?”
Speaking of which, I’ve never heard it myself either.
Rodin’s face darkened even more, but he did not speak up to stop Gerda. When the feudal lord nodded to indicate his permission, Gerda began.
“When we first arrived in this land, it was the start of spring. There were a hundred of us serfs. This was, uh...thirteen years ago.”
Founding a village meant creating it from nothing. This was, naturally, extremely time-consuming. It would be difficult to make any progress in winter with snow covering everything, so it made sense to start right after the snow from the previous winter had finished melting away.
The feudal lord had decided on the location where to found the village and conveyed this through an envoy. At the time, it was an area sparsely covered with trees all around, roughly a two days’ walk from the previous village. The settlers had to start with chopping those trees down and pulling their roots up when they first arrived.
Rodin’s eyes were closed tightly and his clenched fists were trembling as Gerda continued, speaking clumsily in his best effort at being respectful.
“By the time we finished clearing away all the trees, it was autumn. And then...”
Then disaster had struck. There was no way the serfs, who had never left their old village before, could have foreseen it. Nor could the commoners who relocated with them, for that matter. Their original village was two days’ away, after all, which was quite the distance.
“The wheat and potatoes that we had brought along to survive the winter got ransacked by great boars.”
Whenever autumn arrived, the forest surrounding the new village would receive a sudden influx of great boars. None of the founding villagers had known of this beforehand, and so they ended up learning the hard way. They had set up a fence to keep monsters away, but it was far from enough to stop beasts that weigh a tonne each. Gerda described how half of the food in their stores was eaten or destroyed.
The feudal lord’s brows drew together in a frown as what he had expected to be a heroic saga took a dark turn.
“So we got together to discuss what to do. Some folks wanted to return to our old village.”
They could have brought all their remaining food and walked the two-day journey back to their previous village. Then, once spring returned, they could have come back and resumed the reclamation work.
“However, many of us serfs had come to settle this village because we had no way of feeding ourselves back home. Even if we were to have gone back, no one would’ve welcomed us.”
The residents of the former village had scraped together enough food to tide the pioneers through winter with the understanding that they would never come back. If they did return, not only would they not have been welcome, they probably would not have received any food or provisions either.
“As it turned out, the large majority of us could not return.”
“I see.” The feudal lord shot a look at Deboji, who bowed his head, looking decidedly uncomfortable. The village chief was aware this had happened, but never reported it up the chain of command.
“That was when Rodin said, ‘Let’s kill the boars and eat them to survive the winter.’”
His actions had fit the term “champion” to a tee, according to Gerda. He had unified the men and led them into the forest with hoes, spades, pickaxes, and everything else imaginable in hand. It was not just the twenty men who had made up the hunting party up until recently—no, at that time there were more than forty of them. That was, in fact, virtually every one of the village’s menfolk.
There had not been any strategy back then—the three-team method was not developed until later. Luckily, the group had happened upon a solitary great boar by chance. They had hacked at it in sheer desperation until, out of sheer luck, someone’s pickax pierced the beast’s jugular. If it had not been for an almost miraculous chain of coincidences, the group could have just as easily been wiped out completely.
“And that was how you hunted the very first great boar?” Lord Granvelle asked. “That is a remarkable story. Why then do you not boast of it, Rodin? Judging by your boy’s face, it is clear to me that this is his first time hearing it.”
“I...I am sorry, m’lord. It’s just...I lost my friend during that hunt...” Rodin stammered.
It had been a dangerous hunt, one that was frantic. Many had ended up severely injured; several others died. Even so, the remaining hunters desperately had continued the hunt. When the beast died, there was a chance for everyone who had participated to overcome a Trial of the Gods. The reward for doing so was a new lease on life in the form of healing from all current injuries.
“And sure enough, all of us overcame a Trial of the Gods, and our wounds disappeared,” Rodin struggled to explain. “However, a close friend of mine...did not manage to hold on long enough.”
His friend had died before the final blow landed.
“Even though the hunt was something that all of us decided together, Rodin still feels responsible for what happened. I’ve been telling him all this time that it’s not his burden to bear, but he won’t listen,” Gerda said before continuing his account.
When the group of hunters had returned to the village, they then shared the meat with everyone equally, making no distinction between hunters and non-hunters. Thanks to this, the village had managed to survive its first winter. But, after seeing the number of casualties and the severity of people’s injuries, fewer men chose to participate in hunts after that, decreasing the size of their party to only half their original number—down to just twenty or so.
“And that’s the full story of our first great boar hunt.”
I see, so father saw his friend in that commoner.
While listening to their account, Allen thought back to the incident two years ago, when Rodin had returned home bearing a life-threatening injury. He had thrown himself in harm’s way to protect a teenage commoner. He—as well as his late friend—had also been but fifteen years old during their first hunt. Perhaps that was why, despite having a family at home waiting for him, he still ended up prioritizing the boy’s life over his own. Or maybe his body moved instinctively.
Rodin remained quiet, his head bowed. He was propping himself up with his hands, but his arms trembled as he struggled with the flood of memories playing in his mind.
“I...apologize for prying.”
“No, it’s...it’s fine, m’lord.”
Silence filled the room.
“That...is truly not a tale to spread around,” Lord Granvelle said after some thought. “I will work out what to tell His Majesty. And... Hmm...”
Once again, he fell into silence. This time, it was the butler who spoke up. “What is it you are thinking, Master?”
“Sebas, this changes things. My eyes tell me that this man, Rodin, is not lying. And if that is the case, it means he is the one who saved this village.”
“Yes, Master. That would be the case.”
The feudal lord turned back toward those kneeling before him. “Rodin, I shall grant you one more reward.”
“One...more reward, m’lord?”
The feudal lord had already granted Rodin and his entire family commoner status, something that would have normally cost them fifty gold coins. Mention of another reward on top of it left Rodin flustered.
“As I said, it is my job as lord of this fiefdom to ensure that those who contribute are rewarded accordingly. Name anything you desire.”
“A-Anything, m’lord?”
“So, there is something you want. Try saying it out loud.”
A reward? For father? I wonder what he would ask for. The only thing that comes to mind is wine, though.
“I-In that case, I have a request, m’lord,” Rodin said, lowering his head. “Please let my son here work in your house.”
Wait, what?
“Hmm?”
“Unlike me, Allen is smart. I am sure he would be of great help to you, m’lord.”
“Interesting. You want to send your son to enter the service of a baron?”
Hold on, father! That’s not it! Don’t go there! I really, reeeally don’t like where this is going!
Panic was painted all over Allen’s face, but Rodin failed to notice it. “Yes, m’lord. Please use him as a houseboy or however else you see fit. I beg of you, please allow him to work for you!”
Seeing the look his master was sending his way, the butler replied, “I have no objections. It seems clear to me that the child is indeed bright and intelligent.”
Standing beside him, the knight captain also nodded approvingly.
What?! Why isn’t anyone stopping this?! My ideal dream of going hunting every day is getting further and further away from me! Think, Allen! Think!
More than anything else, Allen loved hunting, and he loved leveling up. Working at the feudal lord’s place was on the extreme opposite end of the spectrum of things he wanted to do. Presumably, serving the feudal lord would mean lots of rules and restrictions. Worst case, he could end up with less freedom than even serfs had. And so Allen racked his brains as hard as he could. He needed to come up with some way to break through this situation at any cost.
“A houseboy? Hm...that’s not quite right,” the feudal lord murmured, stroking his well-groomed mustache.
A disappointed “Huh?” escaped Rodin’s lips. He had almost been sure that his request would be accepted.
Oh? Is the lord going to say no? Go for it. You really should say no!
“He did a splendid job as our guide on today’s hunt, as well as serving our table last night. I am as impressed with him as I am with you, Rodin. You have raised a fine son.”
“Th-Thank you, m’lord.”
“Consequently, Allen will become a manservant of House Granvelle.”
“A manservant?! Are you sure, m’lord?!” Rodin was so shocked his voice broke.
Uh, is a houseboy different from a manservant? No, no, that’s not what I should be thinking about right now!
“Is that fine, Sebas?”
“Absolutely, Master.”
“Allen! The feudal lord said he’d accept you as his manservant!”
Rodin completely forgot that he was in Lord Granvelle’s presence and turned to ruffle Allen’s hair vigorously in celebration. He was so overjoyed, tears were flowing down his face.
Gerda also chimed in. “Good for you, Allen! His Lordship’s offering you an opportunity that us serfs’d never see in a million years!” He then continued going on at length about how incredible the offer was; meanwhile, Allen looked dazed, as if his soul had left his body.
The feudal lord remained silent, merely observing. He had just made Rodin—who had contributed so much to the village—recall a memory so traumatic it gave him the shakes. This was therefore his way of atoning for that transgression.
The baron smiled with satisfaction at the ear-to-ear grin on Rodin’s face, then declared, “Allen, son of Rodin. Be my manservant and join my House Granvelle at the foot of the table.”
“Huh?” Allen looked so confused, a cartoonish question mark was practically visible above his head.
If I say yes here...would I be completely swearing away my chance at a life of freedom?!
“Hm? What’s the matter?” Now it was the feudal lord’s turn to look confused, as he had expected an immediate affirmative answer.
Rodin, who apparently thought Allen did not know how to reply, said, “Allen, this is where you should say, ‘It would be an honor, m’lord.’”
No, hold on, seriously, what am I supposed to do here?!
Allen looked at Rodin, whose tears were still overflowing from his eyes and coursing down his cheeks; he was just that happy. Allen realized this was the first time he had ever seen his father cry. This was his father, the man who had dedicated himself to raising Allen over the past eight years. Allen had indeed lived thirty-five years as Kenichi before coming to this world, but he deeply respected Rodin and his way of life from the bottom of his heart. He was glad that he had been born as Rodin’s child.
For his family’s sake, the man had tilled the fields, day in and day out without vacations, and had put his life on the line to face the great boars every autumn. Rodin also cared deeply for his companions and was a role model to the other serfs.
