Chapter 32
Chapter 32
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: The Trigger for the World to Change is Surprisingly Trivial. (7)
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The trigger for the world to change is surprisingly trivial.
Thanks to the improvised bomb, the Silver Wolves were taken care of in an instant.
The Black Axe Party were skilled fighters from the start, so the disorganized Silver Wolves, who had taken serious hits, weren't even a match for them.
>Phew, still, it's a relief that something made on the spot performed so well.
>I figured that volatile oil and grass-scented spray would not only deal physical damage from the explosion but also pin down the Silver Wolves with the smell and blast.
It worked out just as I'd hoped. Lucky.
>Phew... Good thing I had that ignition stone on hand, or I might've had to ask Tir to cast Fireball or something.
>"Haa."
>With the tension gone, my legs gave out completely.
I plopped down right there and let out a deep sigh, only for the pain in my ribs and knee joints—forgotten until now—to come crashing back all at once.
>"Urk..."
>...This is worse than I thought.
>Sure, things worked out in the end, but I ended up being a burden to the party because my teaching zeal got the better of me.
The incident blew up and resolved before I had any chance to properly teach them anything.
>Hmm. If anything, I learned more myself.
It gave me a chance to think about what I need to do going forward and the direction I should take.
>This is something.
To think I'd end up the one being taught.
What a failure as an instructor.
>"...Hey."
As I sighed over those thoughts, Karl, the leader of the Black Axe Party, approached me.
>He was covered in wounds, but it looked like he'd applied hemostatic agents—they'd stopped bleeding, at least. Thank goodness.
It wasn't one deep gash but tons of small cuts, so they didn't seem to hinder his movement much.
>From the look on his face, the mood wasn't hostile.
Well... I did help out in my own way, so coming at me aggressively would've been awkward anyway.
>"...Sorry."
"Pardon?"
>Huh? That's unexpected.
An apology out of nowhere?
>"Honestly, I thought instructors were just bookworms—scrawny weaklings who couldn't hack it in the field."
>Yeah, well, you could tell that much from my behavior up till now.
Even without that... most adventurers, heroes, or anyone who fights and gains experience in real combat probably think the same.
>I knew that all too well.
>"But we would've died without you this time. You stayed cooler-headed than us, and we've fought Silver Wolves plenty."
>Well... there are things you can only see from outside the fray.
Someone in the thick of it gets caught up in the numbers right in front of them and can't see the big picture, but a spectator watching from afar can assess it calmly.
>That's why I was able to grasp the situation coolly and respond this time.
It wasn't because I'm some Silver Wolf expert.
>"I was wrong about you. You're different, at least. My apologies."
He extended his hand as he spoke.
A gesture seeking a handshake of reconciliation.
>"Sorry for underestimating you too. That throwing form earlier... it was no joke. Where'd you learn that? Think I could pick it up?"
"To think you can use Fire Magic but didn't consider oil and spray like that... Makes me wonder if there are other ways to leverage each element."
>Loen and Tir followed behind, approaching with sheepish grins.
>That's weird.
I hadn't taught them anything.
>Yet here they were, saying they wanted to learn, that they were curious.
>"I'd definitely be interested in what an instructor like you has to teach."
That was Karl's take too.
>"......"
>A strange feeling welled up inside me.
Maybe because it's been so long since total strangers acknowledged me so directly?
For some reason, my chest tickled in a good way.
>"...Thank you. Glad I could help."
>I chuckled and took Karl's hand.
>I'd thought I'd failed as an instructor.
But maybe, just maybe, something got through to them too, on the level that I learned.
>Exchanging knowledge with each other.
Maybe that's the true essence of teaching.
>"Hup!"
As I gripped his hand, he yanked me up effortlessly and steadied me on my feet.
>"Whoa?!"
But my legs still wouldn't hold, so I nearly toppled right back down.
Karl caught me just in time and supported me.
>"Kukuku, you definitely need to work on your fitness."
"...Yeah, that's the plan."
>I answered, and Karl burst into laughter.
I laughed along with him.
>Loen and Tir, following behind, chuckled too.
>Supported by them, I headed toward where the villagers had gathered.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Oh, thank you, thank you, adventurers!"
"We owe you!"
"Those other guys heroes? Nah, real heroes are folks like these!"
>When we reached the village square where the people had gathered, we were met with cheers, welcomes, and words of gratitude.
>Hmm. Honestly, I mostly got in the way and didn't do anything impressive, so I'm not sure I deserve thanks alongside them.
>Anyway, after basking in the villagers' gratitude, they handed me off—too exhausted to move properly—to the villagers' care.
Then they headed back to where we'd dropped the Silver Wolves to collect loot from the corpses.
>Silver Wolf hides, covered in that beautiful silver fur, are tough and make great clothing material.
>And their claws and fangs, which secrete anticoagulants, aren't just useful in combat—they have medical value too, so demand is high.
>Heroes and such often just take proof of subjugation, but adventurers rely on monster byproducts for their livelihood.
Even on a commission, they couldn't skip this step.
>Like with the escort commission I'd left to Silver Sword before...
Honestly, commission fees alone barely cover meals most days.
>So now I'm alone, recuperating at the village chief's house...
Feels kinda awkward.
I've crashed at strangers' places plenty over the years, sure.
But situations like this are rare...
>"Um..."
>Then someone approached my bedside and spoke up.
>It was the village chief—an old man with a hunched back and wild white hair.
>What's this about all of a sudden?
>"I saw it earlier. You... tossed that weird thing and took out the Silver Wolves in one go."
>Ah, yeah... he must've seen the improvised bomb.
But why bring it up?
>"Could we... handle something like that too...?"
"...!!"
>Ah, got it.
>To the villagers, I must look like your average joe—normal stamina, normal strength.
Yet one toss from someone like me neutralized several Silver Wolves.
>A thoughtless onlooker might just find it amusing.
But to the chief, desperately trying to minimize damage and hold the village together, it must've looked different.
>'If this works, even regular farmers—or women and kids—could fend off monsters, right?'
>That's probably what crossed his mind.
Hence why he's here asking me.
>"...It's not heavy at all, and easy to make. Of course you could use it."
>Just one problem.
>"The materials are a bit pricey, though."
>Too expensive for a simple village with no special income.
>This area's far from the southern great forest or the imperial capital—no trade routes overlap, so foot traffic is low.
Farming and hunting are basically it; nothing else brings in coin.
>Oil's one thing, but grass-scented spray and ignition stones... way too costly for one-and-done use.
>They weren't made for disposability to begin with.
>Ignition stones are made by enchanting mana stones or smelting magon—a rare mineral from volcanoes.
>Even the cheapest small ones run about 100 brett.
>They're meant for 100+ uses as a lighter, so reasonable normally.
But 100 brett buys a commoner's daily meals.
>Grass spray's 50 brett apiece—not as bad, but still.
Even without oil, that's 150 brett per bomb.
>For something that goes boom once.
>Sure, it'd repel Silver Wolves or orcs, which is great... but the cost is a heavy burden.
>"Please, tell us anyway... Just for emergencies..."
>Hmm, fair point. No garrison here.
They rely on adventurers or dispatched troops.
>Something to buy time in a pinch would help.
>"Got it. I'll tell you the materials and how to make it."
>...Not like it's some big secret.
Still, sharing knowledge with those who need it feels good.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "...Excuse me."
"Yes?"
>Rin Pacific—princess of the Pacific Kingdom and now a first-year hero candidate at Hero Academy—turned at the sound of someone calling her.
>Standing there was a stunning woman in imperial army uniform, her fiery red hair tied in twin tails.
>Her bright, round eyes contrasted sharply with Rin's icy glare.
Even her hair color opposed Rin's clear sky-blue—like some deliberate reversal.
>She looked like the total opposite of Rin, facing off against her.
Rin knew her face.
>"...Could you be Jenny Harkur...?"
>Who else?
She was the most famous Hero Academy alum right now.
>Shattered every record to graduate top of her class in history.
Appointed hero of the Karr Empire right after.
And following in her father—the greatest hero ever, former Marquis Harkur's footsteps—one of the rare few cleared for 'solo operations'!
>A path straight out of legend.
How could any incoming Hero Academy student not know her face and name?
>'I thought her face looked gentle and beautiful in photos... but up close, they don't do her justice.'
>The mana camera failed to capture her full beauty, Rin thought.
>But then it hit her.
Why approach me?
>Maybe some advice for a junior?
>As she wondered, Jenny's words were way off script.
>"Hero Academy's tough, huh?"
"...Pardon?"
>Her tone implied she knew.
Had she fallen into the same terror, helplessness, and soul-crushing void?
Rin wondered.
>"Hero Academy's a dangerous place. Why not drop out... yeah, head to Hasler and try being an adventurer?"
"...Huh?"
>Hasler. Adventurer.
Rin stared blankly, her brain short-circuiting on the words.
Jenny smiled, gave a small bow, and continued.
>"Ah, sorry if I'm overstepping. You just look so worn out... You might meet someone there who can guide you right."
>With a wave and a "think it over," Jenny walked away.
>"......"
>Rin watched her go in a daze, then recalled her words.
>'Hasler... adventurer... guide you right...?'
>Why Hasler specifically?
Telling me to become some lowly adventurer?
Who could this 'guide' be?
And why say that—Jenny, a graduate hero herself?
>Questions swirled.
Yet the name Hasler lingered stubbornly in her mind.