The Name of the Village

Before leaving the village, Oscar spoke to them. "Take the remaining valuables and food, and head to another village. Even if you children try to rebuild and live here, the looters will only strip you of everything. They might sneer at you for being a nuisance, but if you don't arrive empty-handed, offer them something, and pool your strength together, you can at least survive by eating the bread of others."

These were the few children who had survived the village, which had been utterly destroyed by the sudden raid and arson of Erika and her wolf. While the majority had met their short ends alongside the burning village, some had survived—clothed in scorched rags, faces smeared with soot, and bearing cuts and bruises of all sizes. A few children who had just reached adulthood, two or three whom the younger ones called "big brother" or "big sister," were the eldest among them. But no matter how precocious or mature they were for their age, they lacked the wisdom and means to overcome such a situation.

"It's my fault... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

Furthermore, one of those older sisters seemed to have completely lost her mind, wrapping her arms around herself and repeating apologies to someone unknown.

"Um... you said you were a prince, right? Wouldn't it be better to follow the prince?"

Thus, they desperately clung to the dream-like miracle that the "prince" who had helped them and chased away the witch and the wolf would take them in.

"I am called the 'Nameless Prince' by myself and others, but I am not a true prince. While I repeat the act of helping others as my duty and mission, it is all merely a temporary aid that ends with a single instance. It is not a path that presents a long-term vision or leads them forward. That is a realm beyond my reach."

It was true. Oscar could share fish with the starving once, but he could not teach them how to catch it. Providing a means for these children to become self-reliant and watching over them for the long term was not something he could do. He could not be the kind, benevolent old man who takes in poor children and provides for them by whittling away at his own life. And in this era, if there were such a benevolent old man sacrificing himself to care for children, ninety-nine out of a hundred would be a human trafficker, a man-eating witch, or a warlock.

Seeing Oscar refuse so firmly, the children stopped begging and accepted it cleanly. In truth, aside from the very young ones, no one really thought Oscar was a true prince. For one, they had never heard news of the Snow Queen marrying and having a child, and a real prince would never walk around in such shabby, worn-out clothes.

"However, it doesn't sit right with me to send you off empty-handed, so I will give you one final gift."

Oscar plucked a feather from the swallow perched on his shoulder and handed it to one of the children at the front.

"When you face a truly dangerous moment, a crisis that cannot be overcome by your own wit and the strength gathered by your small, fern-like hands, hold that feather and pray earnestly. We will be summoned to you. It can only be used once, so use it wisely."

With a gesture as noble as an aristocrat bestowing a small jewel upon a meritorious subject, he handed over the feather. The boy received it with both hands, bowing respectfully as if he had been granted a precious gem.

"If possible, I hope you never have to see us. That would mean no trials or dangers have befallen you. Now, farewell."

"Goodbye!"

"Thank you for saving us!"

"Let's meet again!"

Turning away with a light wave of his hand, Oscar walked away, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠not sparing a single glance for the children who looked at him like a hero. Despite the fervent cheers and applause, he departed coldly, as if he had no further business now that he had helped once. Yet, on Oscar’s face, which usually wore an indifferent and displeased expression, there was an inescapable sorrow.

"If you are that worried, wouldn't it be better to look after those children a little longer?"

The swallow on his shoulder asked if he shouldn't just go back now and care for them a bit more.

"If I were truly human, that would be the right thing to do. But I am nothing more than something imitating a human. Nothing good comes from ordinary people getting involved with such inhuman things. And you are the same. I am not a real prince, just something impersonating the name of Oscar. Are you sure you are fine traveling with me?"

The answer was a struggle within himself. Unlike the constantly agonizing Oscar, the swallow was certain.

"If there is a fake that is identical to the real one, and the real one no longer exists, then the fake becomes the real one. If the fake performs the same deeds that the real one should have done, then there is no difference from the real one. I believe that you, Master, are the return of the true Prince Oscar. Even if that is not the case, I believe you are his manifestation, having ascended to the realm of the divine after death."

A nameless prince who is nothing but a fake, imitating the old deeds of Oscar while taking the form of the long-dead Oscar. In truth, he is neither the real Oscar nor a prince. Is the work he has done so far, as a mere imitation, truly meaningful? Has he truly brought hope to those in genuine need? Even if he could not save this world held in the clutches of devils, has he brought even a faint light to a handful of people? With constant anguish, he moves forward. Even if the path ahead is filled with thick fog and cannot be seen, he walks on silently.

"Oh? You three are safe! I was so worried. I was afraid all three of you had disappeared. Or perhaps I wondered if everything we talked about yesterday was just a hallucination from me losing my mind. Do you know how worried I was?"

At Sophia's clinic and pharmacy, she greeted the three travelers from yesterday with a wave as she served a customer. Then, she quickly continued her conversation with the customer she had been attending to.

"I'm sorry. These are travelers who became my friends yesterday. Anyway, this is a powder to catch rats and bugs, so don't mistake it for flour, sir. By the way, are there a lot of rats and bugs lately? People are buying it often."

"Oh, don't even get me started. I don't know why there are so many bugs in the fields. It's not even that hot. On top of that, the sound of rats running around in the ceiling of my house sounds like an earthquake. There are always bugs and rats, but it's gotten so noisy lately. Anyway, I'll be going now. I have to sprinkle this on the field."

"Then please be careful not to get hurt, sir!"

"Yes, yes."

After the farmer left, Sophia welcomed the three travelers.

"That 'Somnus's Dream,' was there... some problem there? Or was there nothing?"

"Nothing special. It was just a ghost that funded inns in various villages and cities to attract many customers, then wandered around those inns to eat people. We got rid of the ghost, so there shouldn't be any more trouble. Probably."

"You even got rid of a ghost? That's amazing!"

"Yeah, anyway, you won't have to be creeped out anymore. That settles it."

Clap, clap, clap. Three light claps directed at Hansel, who had answered, and at Gretel and Pinochia.

"Anyway, we're ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠leaving now. And your father there... what was his name again?"

"Billock."

"Right, Billock. We'll look for news of him on our way to Bremen. By the way, are you making medicine? I smell bitter herbs."

"Yes. A few children looking like beggars came early this morning. They said they came here after wandering around starving because their village was destroyed. I'm going to take one of them, who looks like a seriously ill female patient, in here and treat her."

"Hmm, I see. Then we'll be going now."

Hansel thought about scolding her, asking why she was doing such a foolish thing, but he stopped himself. Even if Sophia became a pushover who only got ripped off while doing the good deed of treating a patient who couldn't even pay, that was Sophia's choice, not something forced or threatened by anyone. They had confirmed the status of Sophia, their client, and solved the problem of the suspicious inn, so they had no ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠business in this village for the time being.

"Please visit our village again later."

Seeing Hansel and his party turning away, she gave the customary greeting to departing travelers, but Hansel suddenly stopped in his tracks as a thought occurred to him.

"What's wrong?"

"What is it?"

"By the way, what is the name of this village?"

"Somnus Village. Isn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it? Since the name of the inn where the ghost was is 'Somnus's Dream.' It must be Somnus Village, named after a deceased village chief or someone like that."

"Well, is there any need to know what we don't know? It's not the name of a target to kill, and isn't the location, specialty products, and geographical characteristics more important than the name of a village we just happened to stop by?"

Gretel answered normally, and Pinochia replied that there was no need to know such things.

"No. This isn't Somnus Village."

Sophia, who had been listening, joined the conversation.

"Somnus's Dream, that's the largest building in this village, but that's not it."

"Then what is it?"

To Gretel, who had turned back, Sophia told her the name of the village. As soon as Hansel heard the name from Sophia's lips, his eyes widened and his expression twisted at the same time. It was the look of someone who now realized that something had gone terribly wrong. Or perhaps he was shocked as to why that name would appear here. Whatever emotion Hansel harbored, he was not surprised because the village name was pretty.

"The name of this village is Hameln! Hameln!"

The name of this village is Hameln. Along with Sophia's answer, the sound of a flute was heard from somewhere.