Slow Life (1)
Three months later.
Puk!
The tip of my hand sliced through the soil like a tentacle, grasping the tough roots and yanking them out whole.
Rip!
The insidious plant that threatened humanity let out a scream-like screech as it tore free in my grip.
And so.
I was pulling weeds from around the farm by hand, one by one.
Why? To eat and survive, I had to do something for the village.
Sure, I'd gotten lucky and taken down an orc along the way, but deep down, I was still just a regular guy. The Status Window made sure to remind me of that.
Besides, this world was harder than any Soulslike game! I couldn't travel without even knowing the language.
So, while honing my skills in this beginner village and getting used to the world, I'd take on odd jobs like this to make ends meet.
"Hey! Weeds all pulled? Then go fetch some water."
The young man bossing me around like I was his farmhand, sword at his hip, was Kras.
In this remote village with a population under a hundred, there was no such thing as salaries or daily wages. Villagers didn't even use money among themselves. Instead? There was hazing.
I straightened up at Kras's words, stretching my back.
"That's all it takes to leave you sore and stiff? C'mon, old man, didn't you wanna see the new world? If you're gonna be this frail at your age, just quit dreaming of being an adventurer. You've lived long enough—you oughta know your place by now."
I ignored him and kept pulling the remaining weeds.
My impression of Kras? Like some internet troll picking fights online to boost his ego. Exactly that level.
In some revenge fantasy story, he'd be the village chief's or lord's spoiled brat. But nah, he was just the son of a first-generation villager. Arrogant youth No. 1. In a tiny place like this, he didn't even have outsider minions.
Come to think of it, this isekai was brutal not just for summoned folks like me, but for these NPC-like villagers too.
"This punk ignoring me?"
Kras put his hand on his sword hilt, signaling I better not ignore him.
Oh ho, so he got himself a new sword. Must feel like scoring a new car back home? Kinda curious, though. Magic sword, maybe?
…
Living in the sticks with nothing to do, curiosity about anything new was inevitable.
Apparently, I'd stared at his sword way too intently without realizing. Kras flinched.
"What's with that look? If you're so pissed, come at me. Can't even beat me, so quit bragging about orcs. Buncha rootless nobodies grab a weapon and suddenly think they're heroes."
There it was! The classic troll pattern—latching onto anything, twisting it, dredging up the past to mock.
At first, Kras's taunts fascinated me more than pissed me off. People are the same everywhere, I thought. But after three months, it went from familiar to boring. No cheat powers to turn things around, so best response? Keep doing my thing.
"This punk's straight-up ignoring me now? I'll just—"
Kras, gripping his sword hilt and stalking over like he was about to start something,
"We'll settle this later."
suddenly did a 180 and hightailed it away.
"Kirgil! Uncle, I'm back!"
Off in the distance, a girl with reddish-brown hair waving wildly came into view. Reshi, the first person I'd met in this world, ran toward me. Behind her, women returning from foraging in the mountains, flanked by knights on patrol and guard duty.
I turned to the approaching girl with a welcoming, polite nod.
"Milady, the restroom's that way."
The women burst into laughter, and Reshi reflexively clutched her skirt, face flushing red.
Come to think of it, I was a total loner back home. Was Reshi's reaction just fun, or did it give me a real ego boost?
I wasn't always like this, but her over-the-top responses made teasing her every time we met a daily ritual. It sparked little conversations that helped me bond fast with the villagers.
People's personalities shift with who they're around. Kras turns me into a loner; Reshi makes me popular.
"Tch… You show up and hit me with that nasty trick right away, so of course I jumped! Not weeds, but, y'know… pull that out."
One hand clutching her skirt hem, the other raised like she might swat me—it looked less like anger and more like a kid throwing a tantrum. But her eyes weren't on my face. They were down there.
Reshi, your gaze is awfully mature. Fantasy world perks, huh? Middle-aged guy and teen openly flirting like this.
"Oh no, being defiled by such lecherous eyes—who's the brave knight to save me?"
The crowd roared with laughter at my dramatic plea. This feeling of people loving my words? This is what being popular feels like. High school debut success vibes. Seeing everyone happy was almost euphoric—something I'd never felt as a loner.
Reshi huffed, mad at losing the teasing battle. I gently stroked her head to soothe her, and just like always, her anger melted away.
She handed me her basket—if you're sorry, carry this and follow. Yep, of course I'd carry it. She could even order a piggyback if she wanted.
Back home, spicy photos of beauties and cute girl art online were my solace. Now? Plain-skirted Reshi reacting hilariously filled that role. Not even ten kitten memes could replace her.
I'd saved her on accident that first day, but now? I'd risk it all to save her. After getting stronger, that is.
"Kirgil. Training time soon."
Ferio the knight called out in her commanding tone. The same one who'd charged me with a spear on day one, aiming to skewer me like kebab.
"Haa, no weekends here either… Wait, of course not."
She planned to drill me hard today, no doubt. This woman didn't know the meaning of "moderate."
I'd asked to learn sword or bow, and now it was daily grind, grind, grind. "Skill comes from consistency," she'd say—even in rain or after fighting monsters, same routine.
"Kras on farm patrol again?"
He'd trained with me before, but lately, endless excuses to skip. With Reshi around today, he wouldn't come near.
I mounted the horse she led and headed to the training grounds. Healing time over—wound time incoming.
The site was a hill outpost outside the village. A small fortress housing Ferio and about twenty soldiers. Built for quick response to monster or bandit raids nearby.
My personal take? Like a GOP—border guard post. Had barracks, training facilities, weapons.
Last time, I'd griped to Ferio, "Getting sword skills is this hard? Thought a few gold coins bought 'em here." Got called out for insulting knights and whacked with her sword.
That's when I learned: this wasn't a game, and swords could be clubs.
Scary woman. What torture today? Who'd marry her like that?
"If a decent family proposes, I'd consider. But who'd take a frontier knight like me?"
"Uh, you heard that?"
"You mutter complaints in your native tongue sometimes. Ignored it at first, not understanding. Now you're grumbling in Common? Looks like you've adapted well."
…
Asking "you mad?" would just stir trouble. I shut up and let the horse carry on.
Hm… Horses are smart. Hop on sloppy, and it reads the vibe, goes smooth. Anyone complaining their horse ditched 'em at an inn after a nap? Psychopath denying fault.
Lost in thought,
"…Something off?"
"Huh? What'd you say?"
Apparently, Ferio had asked something while I zoned out. Then I noticed her touching her hair.
"Ponytail up high? Suits you. Looks good."
Blonde ponytail. Reminded me of some anime's perv knight lady, but whatever.
By home standards, she was college-age knight, prime for dolling up. So.
"A ribbon instead of string would make it cuter."
…
Ferio froze, then whipped her head away.
"Pretend you didn't hear, then drop that… You sure know how to catch people off guard."
Guess she had asked about her hair. Answering straight got me another +10 charisma, apparently.
"…Rushed out and tied it sloppy today. Don't critique so finely."
"Got it."
…
Awkward vibe. Ferio hadn't glanced back since.
Embarrassed, right? Embarrassed. Embarrassed? Yeah?
Horses are smart, seriously. It sensed and sped up, sliding between us.
"Don't shove your face in! Hya!"
Dodged her swinging shield—nearly fell off. This horse and I clicked. Time to name it soon.
After her whipping blonde ponytail like a tail: "Pony." Perfect.