The World’s Number One Man Living in the Neighborhood
Winter is approaching.
This year’s autumn felt quite short because of the war. Normally this would be the busiest season for monster hunting, but I feel like I haven’t hunted many seasonal creatures. The period before conscription in summer was busier than this.
However, once winter comes, all that busyness quiets down and a peaceful season arrives.
…Well, to welcome that peaceful season, we still need a massive amount of firewood. Can’t be peaceful if it’s cold.
So when this season comes, I start taking firewood splitting jobs that are available everywhere.
The firewood splitting job I took from the guild today wasn’t at the usual lumber mill, but at a site near the guild’s training ground.
“Whoa, what’s with this firewood? It’s so long.”
“Apparently a newcomer at the lumber mill made a mistake cutting it, so we ended up with a lot of awkwardly sized logs. They’re clearly too long, right? Only the guild’s large fireplace could fit something like this.”
“So that’s why the guild bought them. That newcomer probably got scolded pretty badly.”
“He got yelled at and beaten up, apparently. Well, we bought these firewood materials at a relatively cheap price, so we’re actually grateful.”
Guided by Elena the receptionist, I arrived at an old warehouse piled high with oddly-sized firewood.
They’re about 1.4 times longer than normal firewood. Honestly, if you showed me just one of these by itself, I wouldn’t even think it was meant for firewood.
Even if you cut these in half again, they’d be too short and it’d be a hassle. I see, they really are inconvenient to use.
If Legol’s guild fireplace wasn’t mysteriously large, they might have had trouble using these up. Well, there are probably other facilities that could use them as firewood – bathhouses, bakeries, and such…
“The problem is that turning these into firewood is difficult. Because they’re oddly long, they’re hard to split, and the lumber mill didn’t want to deal with them either.”
“Baroa wood is dense… so the guild bought the logs as-is at a bargain price.”
“Yes, we decided to leave the splitting to the guildsmen… Actually, we were planning to assign this to Iron-rank members.”
“But nobody would take it.”
“Yes…”
After watching for several days, apparently no guildsmen took the job. Well, of course not.
“The reward is too low. Even though it’s getting cold, it’s still autumn, right? Of course everyone’s going to the forest. Who the hell set the price? Was it you, Elena?”
“Of course not! I don’t have that kind of authority… The reward amount was set by Milene-san.”
“Ah, is that so? Then it’s appropriately priced.”
“Hey!”
So this job involves splitting unnecessarily long firewood.
The guild’s training ground is right there, so I can work while watching the guildsmen train. It’s monotonous work but I won’t be bored.
“I’ll call you when I’ve split everything, so check it then.”
“Please be careful not to break any equipment.”
“Roger.”
Elena hurried off busily.
…Well, let’s work hard on the firewood splitting. Though it’s not really hard work or anything.
“Take this!”
“Not enough!”
“Your footwork is sloppy!”
“Eat this!”
I split firewood with pak pak sounds while listening to the energetic voices of the Iron-rank kids.
The firewood is indeed long and the striking point is higher, which feels a bit strange, but with my arm strength, it’s no particular trouble. I had enough leisure to just go pak pak absentmindedly while occasionally watching the rookies train.
…Harpelia probably won the war. With so little damage in a defensive war, the peace conditions were probably favorable too.
And when a nation takes little damage and wins a war, the people get simply excited. They get pumped up even during the fighting if they’re winning, so it’s even more so after it’s over.
We are strong. We won. We protected our ancestral lands. That kind of elation remains. Even people who never went to the battlefield develop such psychology.
When that happens, you get crowds of people thinking “War weariness? What’s that? I want to be a soldier too!” seeking power. The kids training over there are like that too. Actually, the training ground is usually never this lively. The war is clearly having an influence.
Well, for rootless guildsmen, honing anti-personnel combat skills to become soldiers is a legitimate path to advancement, so they’re actually quite sensible…
But as a former Japanese person, I often think I’d want them to get a proper education first. Opportunities to learn a trade, or technical skills, or anything that would broaden their possibilities. I find myself wishing they had chances like that.
Of course, I understand this isn’t that kind of world. This is just my own sentimentality. From the world’s perspective, it’s a bug.
“Hey, Mongrel-san!”
“Ah? What is it, Warren?”
While splitting firewood and thinking about somewhat dark things, Warren came over and called out to me.
He’s also one of the stoic guys who was just beating on training dummies and working up a sweat. Since the war ended, he seems to be actively calling out to various guildsmen for training.
“Got time? Could you spar with me a bit?”
“You can see for yourself. I’m busy with a firewood splitting job right now.”
“Then I’ll help out too.”
“Oh? Then could you carry the ones I split and put them in the warehouse? And also line up the firewood materials near me to restock. If you do that, I’ll give you free training. Well, I’m also an amateur at swordsmanship, but if that’s okay with you.”
“Leave that much to me.”
This is great. I can focus just on the splitting work and skip the annoying steps.
“…Hey Mongrel-san, isn’t this firewood long?”
“It’s long, right? Apparently some newcomer at the lumber mill screwed up.”
“What an idiot.”
Well, it honestly seems like an idiotic mistake.
But making idiotic mistakes like this occasionally is what makes us human.
Thanks to Warren’s dedicated work, the firewood splitting was completed much faster than originally planned.
However, when it was finished, Warren was completely exhausted and drenched in sweat.
He was carrying at the pace I was splitting. That must have been heavy labor.
“Haa, haa… alright, time for training! Please take care of me!”
“Hey hey, you’re going to train when you’re this tired? You’re serious.”
“Yeah, that’s right, Mongrel-san. I’ve decided I’m going to reach Silver rank!”
Warren is holding a wooden sword the size of a bastard sword. His height has grown too, so it’s about the right size for a weapon to wield without body enhancement. Seems he’s graduated from short swords.
Even though it’s a wooden sword, seeing someone else use a bastard sword makes me happy and go “grin”…
“That’s quite the spirit, Warren. Once you get used to that bastard sword’s length, you’ll be able to quickly overcome any situation. Today I’ll give you thorough instruction.”
“No, if I can learn to swing a longsword, I’ll switch to that. Nobody uses bastard swords.”
“Alright, I’ll beat you up so badly you’ll never be able to talk so cheekily again.”
“Eh!? It’s instruction, right? Mongrel-san!?”
“It’s love from me. Accept it.”
That’s how the sparring began.
Basically, I let Warren attack, and when he got tired, I made him defend. That’s the pattern.
When he made a poor attack, I’d deflect it with a bane to break his posture, and when it was a good attack, I’d respond with honest defense. If we could keep the exchange going long, it meant he was fighting cleanly – that kind of rough training.
“Uooooh!”
“Oh, pretty good. Pretty good. You’re making good nasty attacks.”
“Haa, haa, nothing’s getting through at all…!”
“Don’t underestimate Bronze 3, Warren.”
“Mongrel-san’s rank is definitely wrong!”
“It’s not wrong, it’s not wrong.”
This is my personal theory, or prejudice, or no, it’s actually some crappy thing I picked up from manga, but I think it’s important how much of your power you can demonstrate when you’re tired.
Your ability at your worst condition, that is.
There’s not much real experience behind this. I haven’t really gotten very tired since being reborn in this world.
But if an ordinary person is heading to a real battlefield, being able to move even when tired would be important.
Marching, combat, retreating – it’s all the same. The guys who can act in formation properly even when tired are the ones who get valued and survive. Even without personal experience, that’s probably how it is. I think so, anyway.
Getting killed because you took a break from defending during combat fatigue would be pointless.
“Get tough, Warren!”
“U, uooooh! What’s tough supposed to mean!”
Oh, good attack. But he’s getting sloppy from fatigue…!
“Tough means appearing fatigued while not actually being fatigued!”
“Uwah!?”
Finally, the wooden sword went clang and flew from Warren’s hands.
His grip was probably half numb and weak already. Training’s over.
“Alright, let’s eat. Oh, and I need to report on the firewood splitting too.”
“…Whoa, I can’t feel my hands… Ah, thanks Mongrel-san!”
“Yeah. Warren, come to the tavern after you wipe off your sweat. I’ll treat you to a meal.”
“For real!?”
“I’ll at least feed you for the amount you helped with the firewood splitting.”
“Hell yeah!”
It’s been a while since I did proper sword training. Since I always do things by brute force, I still don’t really understand anti-personnel swordsmanship.
Leaving the training ground, I reported the completion of the firewood splitting to Elena.
Elena wasn’t idle enough to bother with verification work, or rather, she trusted me enough that I received payment on the spot and that was it.
That long firewood will warm the guild interior as winter fuel. Since each piece is quite long, it might save a bit of trouble with refueling. Whether that’s good or bad won’t be known until we try using it.
“Warren, do you want to become a soldier?”
“Eh.”
At the tavern, drinking ale and eating what’s absurdly expensive guild-made smoked meat steak today.
Smoked meat steak sounds delicious, but the meat is dry and not as impressive as the name suggests. Since we’re basically grilling something close to jerky, it can’t be helped, but this is still relatively decent among the meat you can eat in the guild.
“…Did I tell you about that, Mongrel-san…?”
“Your swordsmanship was the same as those ‘Earth Shield’ guys. You’ve been getting training from them too, right?”
“Yeah. I see, you can tell from the swordsmanship… hehe, then I’m already using it properly, right?”
“I don’t know about swordsmanship. Ask Alex.”
“Earth Shield” could be called a shortcut for Legol guildsmen to become soldiers.
They’re a party that seriously handles orthodox Harpelian military swordsmanship. Many people get recruited from there into the army or guards. Actually, that party frequently exchanges personnel with the military, so people come and go.
“…Yeah. Well, after the war… I was on supply duty like Mongrel-san, so I didn’t see real battlefields… but Randy-san, a senior I was indebted to, died, right? That made me think about various things… If I’m going to fight anyway, I want to die like him, protecting the country.”
“Protecting the country… huh.”
“Killing enemy soldiers from Sunglaire who attacked, protecting everyone in Harpelia. I always knew military people were important, but when I actually heard about their achievements in the war and their hard work… I really admired it, you know. That kind of thing. Heroes, I guess.”
“…Right.”
A man who fought and died protecting his country. That is indeed a hero. Yes, that’s right.
“Until then I was just thinking about making money, eating good food, and occasionally… no, pretty frequently going to places with pretty women. But I started wanting to become a soldier… is that weird?”
“It’s not weird… That’s probably an admirable thing, Warren.”
“You think so? Hehe, I see. Right.”
A child aiming to become a soldier without receiving education. Well, personally I find it complex, but by this country’s standards, a rootless guildsman having such aspirations is extremely admirable. It’s noble.
“…But it’s not like I want to die like Randy-san, you know? If possible I don’t want to die, I want to keep living. I just want to try that kind of life.”
“Military life is harsh, you know?”
“Hmm, even if it’s harsh, I’ll work hard! …As much as I can. So first, to do that, I’m thinking of joining ‘Earth Shield.’ They do the things closest to what I want to do. But I heard the party entrance exam is pretty tough, so I’ve been practicing like crazy… But I wonder if I’ll pass… the test is coming up soon…”
Warren’s eyes are sparkling.
Not just because he’s young. Those are the heated eyes characteristic of a young person with dreams.
…It’s like glimpsing the harsh reality of a cruel world, but that’s undeniably a dream.
And Warren is trying to chase that dream.
People who are chasing dreams… are happy enough that no one should interfere.
“I hope you pass the entrance exam.”
“Yeah! If I pass I can ride horses too, I’m really looking forward to it. I want to try being… a mounted knight…”
Giving advice like “being a carefree guildsman is nice” here would be tactless.
Humans are happiest when talking about their dreams.
“Warren, have you ever ridden a horse?”
“Not yet. Have you, Mongrel-san?”
“I can at least hang on.”
“That’s not riding!”
“I practiced for a while but… I got bored before getting good at it…”
“Isn’t that just being bad at it?”
“There are various theories…”
Well, normal people don’t reach the conclusion “just carry luggage and run faster than horses.”
“Ahh… I want to get stronger… I want to become the strongest in the world…”
Warren was muttering such fantasies while holding his half-drunk ale.
“Any man born as such dreams of it at least once in his life. I understand, Warren.”
“Right… Mongrel-san thinks so too…”
“I’ve already become the strongest in the world though.”
“For real…”
“Since you received training from the world’s strongest me, you can probably become about the second strongest in the world.”
“Give me the number one spot…”
“No.”
You can inherit the world’s number one title after I die of old age. Until then, I won’t give it to anyone.
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