The Heavy Smoker and the Grim Reaper of the Wheat Field (5)
After finishing lunch, we worked all day long. Without a watch, the sun hanging in the sky was our only way to guess the time. The blazing sunlight made my eyes ache, and the rest of it was just plain miserable. ‘So that’s why Hotulusil wears a straw hat.’ It was the same logic as military officers carrying around a pair of sunglasses each. Skin could burn, but at least the light hitting your eyes had to be blocked. My own skin didn’t matter much, but I worried Franc’s might get scorched. Brown-skinned Franc would probably still look cute, though. Still, UV rays were basically a skin-cancer cheat code. I wondered if she was properly wearing her hood while working.
Shupapapapapap!!
“Kkiyoyot!!”
Distracted by thoughts of Franc, I sped up and swept through the wheat. After getting permission, I went to check on her and told her to wear the hood whenever possible so she wouldn’t overheat. That little incident aside, the rest of the day passed without trouble. Not a single rat tail, let alone any pests, showed up. The only things brushing against my feet were tiny grasshoppers.
“Done!! That’s it for today!! Everyone, wrap up your work and gather in the center!!”
As the surroundings grew dark, the same secretary-slave I’d seen earlier rang a bell. The bastard spoke ridiculously fast. I’d been half-convinced they were going to make us work overtime since no one had said anything even after sunset, and nearly foamed at the mouth in panic.
—Rumble, rumble.
Like typical part-timers, the adventurers casually skipped cleanup and gathered in the center with zero sense of responsibility.
“Everyone’s here. Thank you all for your hard work today. You may rest wherever you like.”
Hotulusil had apparently already clocked out; announcing the news was the secretary-slave’s job. Even he was drenched in sweat under his shirt.
“Pitching tents or lighting campfires is allowed. However, be extremely careful with sparks. If a fire spreads to the harvest or the fields, you’ll have to hand over everything you own and spend the next ten-plus years living as our slave comrades.”
Damn. Even the warning was brutal. If someone torched the entire field, that was probably exactly what would happen. Just eyeballing it, the amount of harvest looked like it could be counted in gold coins.
“Part of this farmland also belongs to the lord, so if luck turns against you, execution is also possible. We won’t take responsibility, so watch yourselves.”
With that, the secretary-slave returned to his own quarters—a dormitory-like building attached to the stables.
—Rumble, rumble.
The adventurers scattered in every direction, reversing the formation they’d made when gathering, each setting up their own sleeping spot. Some pitched tents in teams, while others, the loners, slept alone. Franc and I held hands and headed for a suitable spot.
“Nord. Let’s pitch our tent first.”
“Yeah. But I don’t know how to set up a tent. Teach me.”
I’d never learned tent pitching even in the army. Being from a rear-support unit and from a different generation, I’d never even had the chance to see those military tents they called Type A or whatever.
“Got it. I’ll show you.”
Franc brought over the tent materials after hearing me. It was a packaged set sold for two coppers at a general store in Sargadis.
“This is how you build a tent. Watch carefully?”
Thud, thud, thud! Flutter!
“Ta-da!”
“Wait, what? Show me again.”
Her demonstration was that of a seasoned instructor—far too skilled. The speed belonged on a show like World’s Most Amazing People, not Master of Living. Her tiny hands moved in a blur, and in under three minutes our tent was fully erected. She drove in the stakes, tied the cloth with ropes, and spread it out—done.
“Was it hard? Want me to show you again?”
“You already finished it, so what’s the point? I’ll just learn next time.”
After answering, I followed her inside. It was a simple tent with a straw mat laid over flat dirt and covered by cloth, but the interior felt surprisingly cozy.
“Oh? Pretty decent for two coppers.”
“It really is. Still, we should buy a new one before winter.”
“Heh. In winter we should just avoid requests that involve sleeping outdoors from the start.”
Even autumn nights grew chilly. Sleeping outside in winter would freeze you solid no matter how thick the tent was. It wasn’t like we could easily get sleeping bags in this world.
“Ah, a carriage is passing by.”
Franc perked her ears and looked to the right. When I focused my hearing as well, I caught the sound coming from that direction. Two carriages were approaching along the edge of the field where we sat.
—Clip-clop, clip-clop.
They looked shabby and far from noble carriages. They were peddlers’ wagons pulled by horses. The carriages were heading toward Sargadis, and the peddler on the driver’s seat whipped the horse’s rump with a tired expression, clearly eager to return to the city and rest as soon as possible.
Crack!
Neighhh—.
Yet the horse that had been struck let out a pitiful whinny and actually slowed down instead. The peddler’s face twisted in frustration. Hilarious.
“Pfft.”
Franc couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. While we sat side by side chuckling, I happened to spot the mark on the carriage. It was a picture resembling a wrapped gift box.
“Heh. So it was a transport carriage. Makes sense he’d want to hurry back.”
“A transport carriage? Ah, the one that delivers letters and gifts in your place? You noticed pretty quickly.”
“I saw the emblem on the carriage.”
I’d looked into them because I figured I’d be using their services often while living in Sargadis. Those peddlers were basically this world’s version of delivery services. They’d come up with the idea of transporting goods to other territories as their livelihood, and because the merchants’ guild was heavily involved, they could even send things to foreign countries. It cost a lot, though.
‘I’ll have to send my thesis to Carmine University via one of those soon.’
I’d brought paper to work on it before bed tonight, so I should finish it quickly and mail it. Transport carriages left once every ten days. They collected goods for ten days before departing. I needed to send it before the deadline so I wouldn’t end up submitting my thesis late.
—Clip-clop, clip-clop.
After watching the carriage disappear in a cloud of dust, I spoke.
“Let’s light a campfire too. We’re far enough from the fields, so it should be fine.”
“Sounds good. Nord, can you lay out the firewood? I’ll clear anything nearby that might catch fire, just in case.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I’d gathered the firewood yesterday when we went to the forest. Thanks to quick-witted Franc, who’d managed to get some straw, lighting the fire was simple.
Whoosh—.
Just like that time in the ruins when everything had gone to hell, the fire caught easily. The campfire was complete.
“Mmm, warm. This is why people light campfires.”
“Hehe. Be careful it doesn’t go out in the wind.”
Franc and I sat close to the fire, wrapped in a blanket. The crimson flames licked at the firewood like tongues. Campfires flickered in the distance as well. The other adventurers were probably lighting their own.
“It feels kind of atmospheric.”
Franc leaned against me and smiled. I put an arm around her shoulder and stroked her hair.
“If you weren’t here, I probably would’ve found this scene noisy and annoying. They say the same scenery feels different depending on who you’re with.”
“I’m glad. Then even if I went to the sewers with you, I’d still be happy.”
“The sewers would knock me out cold.”
“Hehe.”
Franc’s black hair was soft no matter how many times I touched it. Actually, there wasn’t a single part of her body that didn’t feel good to touch. Scientifically proven by social-butterfly studies. While enjoying the sensation, I observed the adventurers’ campfires. With fires burning in every direction, it felt like a scene from a drama or movie. Adventurers glowing like candles in the dark. Some sat awkwardly in silence, others chatted and laughed loudly. One person stared at the fields alone, lost in thought. They each had their own lives and thoughts.
“Hm?”
Watching them, I let out a puzzled sound. Franc looked up at me. Lately she’d been staring only at my face instead of anywhere else. How embarrassing.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, someone over there is waving at us.”
I answered while focusing my vision. I quickly figured out who it was. An elderly man I recognized was sitting near one of the campfires.
“It’s Gentric. He must’ve come right after meeting us yesterday.”
“Ah, you’re right.”
Franc, squinting, also recognized him. Gentric had spotted us and waved first. So he was staying another night and working today too. His diligence was admirable, but I couldn’t help wondering what his children were doing instead of supporting their father. Maybe adventurers were this world’s version of elderly scrap collectors. The thought made me feel a little bitter.
Whether he knew what I was thinking or not, Gentric approached us with leisurely steps.
“So you two were here.”
“Yes. We meet again so soon, Mr. Gentric.”
“Hello.”
We exchanged greetings. Gentric let out an “Oh dear” and plopped down on the ground nearby. Then he grinned at us.
“Ah, don’t worry. I’m not here to intrude on you young folks while you’re resting.”
“Heh, thanks for the consideration.”
A grown man and woman had pitched their tent away from everyone else. The only people who’d butt in were either hopelessly oblivious or NTR bastards with no parents. Either type was perfect for getting stabbed before their hair turned gray. Gentric wasn’t one of them. As expected of someone quick on the uptake.
“So, was today’s work manageable?”
Gentric asked while rubbing his shoulder. Before I could answer, Franc quietly pulled away from my shoulder and lowered her head.
“Yes. Thanks to you, we got safe work. Thank you.”
“Safe doesn’t mean it wasn’t hard. I was worried I might’ve caused trouble by speaking up, so I came to ask.”
“Hehe, no. I sweated a bit while working, but it wasn’t too difficult.”
“That’s a relief.”
Looking reassured, Gentric turned to me. I just shrugged.
“If you knew how much I’ve been suffering lately, you wouldn’t have worried. I’d like to take nothing but harvest requests for the next month.”
“Haha. Not harvest requests—pest extermination requests. The pay and performance records are different, so don’t get them mixed up. Anyway, I’m glad you two are fine.”
Gentric stroked his beard and chuckled. Then, glancing at the camping kit beside the fire, he said,
“Your dishes are clean. Haven’t eaten yet?”
“We were just about to. Ah, I’m not scolding you or anything, Mr. Gentric.”
“I see. One piece of advice: don’t waste food at night. It’ll all digest by morning anyway. Save it and eat a proper breakfast instead—it’ll make working easier.”
“Oh, thanks for the tip.”
Looking pleased at my polite reply—though he probably didn’t understand the word “tip”—Gentric pointed toward the stables.
“If you’re short on water, go over there. There’s a well behind the stables. You can draw from it.”
“Understood. Is the well water free?”
“Just don’t use too much. The serfs will get angry if they see you.”
“Heh heh. What a shame.”
We laughed like typical bottom-feeder adventurers with a slightly nasty streak. That was just how life at the bottom worked.
“It’s dark, so take a lantern. Don’t fall into the well while fetching water and end up in Elysium.”
Gentric said. Elysium was the afterlife spoken of in Romania. Even in this world where gods existed, the actual nature of the afterlife wasn’t well known. Since souls existed, I figured there probably was one, though.
Crackle, crackle—.
A piece of firewood popped and sent sparks flying. I moved my arm like lightning and swatted away the ember heading for Franc.
“Pfft. Nord, you’re such an overprotector.”
Seeing my improvised taiji, Franc clasped my hand tightly, interlacing our fingers. Two people this close, bodies rubbing together—wasn’t this basically sex already?
Watching us, Gentric gave a wry smile.
“My, I must’ve stayed too long. I should be going.”
“Already?”
“You haven’t eaten yet either. Staying would just be a nuisance.”
He’d probably grown uncomfortable watching us being all lovey-dovey.
“Still, it’d be a shame to come all this way just to say hello and leave. How about I give you a little gift before I go?”
“A gift?”
“This.”
Gentric shook a canteen with his wrinkled, thick hand and opened the cap.
—Slosh, slosh.
—Pop! Fizz…
When he opened the canteen, the sound of carbonation escaping came out. This wasn’t some training camp, and it definitely wasn’t cola. Besides, cola didn’t even exist in this world. I gave a dry laugh and asked,
“Wait, why beer?”
What Gentric had brought in the canteen wasn’t water but beer. The scent of alcohol tickled my now-sensitive nose.
“Haha. I brought it to drink secretly at night.”
It was the same calm tone as saying “I brought a scarf because it’s winter.”
“But when I got here and saw adventurers I knew, I ended up imposing on their tent. Drinking alone would’ve looked bad, so I kept it in my bag and brought it for you two instead.”
“Wow! Thank you!”
Franc lit up at zero-to-hundred speed. I’d been about to refuse, but the absurdity made me blurt out a protest instead.
“Wait, Franc. What about tomorrow’s work if you drink?”
“One glass is fine!”
We’d already done drunk sex with that exact excuse last time. My perfectly reasonable objection never left my mouth because of Gentric’s presence. I couldn’t exactly start talking about trading favors for drunk sex in front of someone we knew.
“……Is it not allowed?”
Franc seized the opening while I was speechless, cupping her cheeks with both hands and acting cute. Franc!!! Acting cute!!! It was so adorable it transcended my entire cognitive framework. Damn, the blood flowing into my heart and that place felt like it had tripled. Almost defibrillator levels.
“Whoa, Franc, you…. That’s cheating….”
She was seriously too cute. My will to resist shattered like a waterlogged wooden door hit by a battering ram.
“Haa. I lost. …Thank you, Mr. Gentric. We’ll gratefully accept.”
“Watching you two was quite entertaining. Feel free to keep talking without minding me.”
“We’re good. I’m about to have a heart attack.”
“Perfect timing, perfect timing.”
I handed Gentric an empty pot while he teased me. I’d receive the beer in it, cover it, and drink it with dinner later. Britannian beer was low in alcohol and we’d have snacks, so our Franc wouldn’t get one-punched into a knockout.
—Clink.
After receiving the pot, Gentric set it down and held the canteen of beer in one hand. I thought he was going to pour it straight into the pot, but the old adventurer did something I hadn’t expected.
“Even on a chilly night, cold beer is still the best, don’t you think?”
While saying something perfectly reasonable, Gentric focused intensely on the metal canteen. After about five or six seconds, a low incantation slipped from the old man’s lips.
“──Freezing Hand.”
Crackle…!!
As he chanted, Gentric’s hand glowed blue, and frost began forming on the canteen he held.