The Little Power of Spirits
Preparing a meal is simple, but it takes real strength.
First, the iron pot itself is incredibly heavy.
The men poured out some of the water filling the crude cast-iron cauldron and lit a fire using the wood we’d gathered yesterday.
Since we had to feed over fifty people, two pots were set up.
We also had to haul water.
There was a stream nearby, but it wasn’t exactly close enough to trip over.
And one bucket wasn’t nearly enough.
A single container left us woefully short, so several people went together.
Fetching water was quite the chore.
When I thought about how I’d have to do it alone once my own house was built, a sigh escaped me without thinking.
A few people went off to look for dead trees nearby.
They said dead wood burned better than green timber and gave off stronger heat.
Naturally fallen branches were few and far too thin.
With so many campfires going, we were already short on firewood for tonight.
It looked like we’d need to gather more every few days, if not every single day.
The women who received the remaining water called over the few children left in the village.
They dampened rags so the kids could wipe themselves down.
The children stripped off their clothes without hesitation and scrubbed their bodies with the cloth scraps, small hands moving every which way.
They shivered from the cold.
This place was near a forest, so it was much colder than the desert-like land we’d come from.
I worried they might catch a cold, but no one seemed to care.
It must be normal here.
In this world, both adults and children apparently used a damp cloth for a quick wipe-down instead of a proper bath.
On the way here, water had been so scarce that even that wasn’t possible.
Everyone—grown-ups and kids alike—was filthy.
Naturally, I was no exception.
I hadn’t noticed while we were marching, but now that we’d arrived and my mind had relaxed, my whole body itched like crazy.
When several men headed that way, a woman handed out damp cloths to them too.
Popcorn seemed curious about what the children were doing.
He flitted around them, occasionally launching his whole body at the wet rags.
What on earth is he up to?
I couldn’t quite read Popcorn’s thoughts.
Each time, the children would stare at the spot where he was with strange expressions, then tilt their heads when they saw nothing.
Whether they found it funny or just entertaining, Popcorn next charged straight at their faces.
He bumped into cheeks and foreheads, clung to eyebrows and lips, wriggling around.
As Popcorn crawled across one child’s face, another kid—for reasons unknown—suddenly smacked Ji-geu on the head.
Maybe he thought it was Ji-geu’s prank, or maybe he just felt like hitting him. I couldn’t tell.
Ji-geu got angry and charged in, and soon the children were fighting completely naked.
They punched and kicked.
In the end it had all started because of Popcorn, but the little guy showed zero guilt.
He floated around them, scattering light, looking positively delighted.
The fight grew fiercer. Two kids tangled together and started rolling across the ground.
No one tried to stop them.
Even Ji-geu’s father saw the brawl but only chuckled.
No, someone has to break it up.
With no other choice, I started walking over. The woman who’d been handing out wet towels spoke to me.
“You should wash too, Mage. Here. I saved the biggest one for you.”
She handed me the largest damp cloth.
The children were still fighting.
Their freshly wiped bodies were already covered in mud again.
Even their hair was caked with dirt.
Popcorn seemed to be cheering for Ji-geu.
Every time Ji-geu landed a hit, the spirit raised his tiny arms in triumph.
More! Harder! Knock him out!
It felt like a silent cheer.
He even occasionally grabbed the other kid’s hair to help Ji-geu. That was downright cowardly.
A third party shouldn’t interfere in a one-on-one fight.
“Aren’t you going to stop the children from fighting?” I asked.
The woman laughed.
“Kids grow up by fighting. If they picked up sticks or stones, of course we’d scold them, but this is fine.”
While the children brawled, the water in the iron pots began to boil.
Just like yesterday, they threw in jerky and a bunch of random herbs from nearby.
Apparently some people had found edible vegetables while scouting the ground.
Unfamiliar vegetables plopped one after another into the cauldrons.
That pretty much finished the stew preparation.
Several people brought out hard bread from the baggage.
The man who looked oldest among the settlers stood beside me and muttered,
“For the time being, it’d be best if the whole village ate together.”
Another person stood on my other side and nodded.
“We don’t have houses yet, hauling water and firewood is work in itself, and we don’t know when beasts or monsters might show up. Especially at night, staying together seems safest.”
A third person joined and added,
“After we divide up the supplies, it’d be good to distribute communal food according to the number of people.”
Yet another person came and said, with me still in the middle,
“That sounds good. When we eat communally, the number of households doesn’t matter.”
“We should count children as half portions.”
I’d been listening quietly and finally spoke up. The people’s eyes widened a little.
They had apparently planned to count each child as one full share.
That wasn’t right.
Even bus fares give kids a discount.
“That makes sense. No matter how much they eat, they still won’t eat as much as an adult.”
When one person agreed with me, the others nodded too.
As we talked, people gradually gathered in a circle around me.
It seemed an impromptu village meeting had begun.
But why am I standing in the center?
Small problems and their solutions kept coming up, and every time I gave even the slightest nod of approval, the matter was decided on the spot.
I felt like the gavel at a meeting, banging on the table.
I knew absolutely nothing about this world, farming, or pioneer villages.
Because I was anxious about that, I asked questions and double-checked everything people said. The more time passed, the more they seemed to follow my words.
How strange.
“It’s time to eat now!”
Ji-geu pushed his way through the crowd and shouted.
The children’s fight must have ended sometime during all this.
“Who won?”
When I asked out of curiosity, Ji-geu puffed out his chest.
“I did!”
“Liar! I won!”
The kid who had fought Ji-geu must have come to call everyone for dinner too.
He poked his head through the crowd and yelled.
“Don’t make me laugh. I landed the last punch!”
“You’re ignoring my kick that connected?”
“That only hit your thigh. It has to land on the chest to count!”
Apparently still worked up, the boy charged at Ji-geu again.
Ji-geu wasn’t about to take it lying down.
He lowered his body and rushed forward like a bull.
But before the two could collide, adults grabbed them by the scruffs of their necks.
Even while held, the children flailed their arms and legs wildly.
“You little rascals, fight after you eat.”
They weren’t telling them not to fight at all.
I stared in disbelief. Ji-geu’s father smiled and said,
“If they don’t learn how to fight from a young age, they’ll have a hard time as adults. They need to know how to protect their families, and when they grow up and fight, they have to learn how to control their strength.”
Ah, that I understood.
The most dangerous person was someone big and strong who didn’t know how to fight.
If such a person hit wrong, they could kill someone.
Well, if they aimed for vital points, even someone weak could kill, but still.
My own life had been such a string of misfortunes that my father had deliberately taught me to fight, and I’d often run into people like that.
Those types were troublesome because they couldn’t even gauge their opponent’s ability.
When I nodded in understanding, the man beside me gave me an odd look.
“Mage, do you sometimes fight with your body like us?”
“Occasionally.”
In truth, quite often.
Looking back, my life really had been rough.
A sigh slipped out again.
The men exchanged glances and gave each other meaningful looks.
Ji-geu looked around at their faces and asked,
“So instead of magic, you killed people with your fists? How many did you kill to get exiled here?”
One man quickly covered Ji-geu’s mouth.
So that’s what everyone thought.
Actually, this was perfect timing.
“I haven’t killed anyone. I ended up here by chance. I didn’t come because I committed a crime.”
“Everyone says that.”
The boy who had fought Ji-geu wiped his nose with the back of his hand.
No, I really didn’t.
They seemed to have called a truce because they agreed on that point.
Ji-geu and the boy looked at each other, then spoke in unison.
“It’s okay. Mages are strong, so even if you killed a ton of people, you’re welcome here.”
“When monsters attack, you’ll do amazing things, so the more you’ve killed, the better.”
The men panicked and covered the children’s mouths.
As expected, no one believed I was innocent.
While the adults smiled awkwardly, Ji-geu and the boy shouted,
“If you don’t eat soon, it’ll all be gone!”
“Some people have already started eating!”
When I looked toward the iron pots, several people had already ladled out bowls and sat down.
Popcorn was right there among them.
He kept rising and falling along with the steam rising from the pot, sniffing the aroma.
Each time he inhaled the food’s scent once, twice, his body tilted backward a little more.
Eventually he did a full backward somersault and plopped straight into the pot.
Oh no.
I hurried over in surprise and found him swimming around in the boiling stew.
He looked quite used to it, as if he’d done it several times.
Wasn’t it hot for him?
The woman who had been seasoning with salt tilted her head.
“That’s strange. I only added salt, but today it tastes amazing.”
The men who had taken the first spoonfuls nodded in agreement.
“Maybe it’s because of what grows on this land. It really is delicious.”
“I’ve never had stew this good before.”
I ladled out a bowl too. It used the same ingredients and cooking method as yesterday, yet it tasted completely different.
Could this be the effect of a spirit?
Huh.
During this journey, many people had suffered from diarrhea or stomachaches.
We’d drunk straight from old wells, so it would have been strange if no one got sick.
Several people had even died from it.
But I had stayed perfectly fine the whole time.
The well water had tasted good too.
At the time I’d simply thought this world’s water was tastier than Earth’s, but maybe it was thanks to Popcorn.
After all, whenever I tried to eat, he would jump in and splash around.
Whether he was tired from playing or simply bored now, Popcorn climbed out of the pot and shook himself vigorously.
Food droplets suddenly sprayed from above the cauldron. People looked around the empty air with puzzled expressions.
One person muttered,
“This place has thicker forests and more water than other areas. Maybe there are lots of spirits here?”
The people looked at one another.
“Could be.”
“They say spirits love forests.”
“And the air definitely feels moister than elsewhere.”
The woman who had been serving stew paused, quickly ladled a small separate bowl, and placed it on a stone near the fire. Someone else promptly set a piece of bread beside it.
“Spirit, please grant our village luck…”
As the woman clasped her hands and prayed, others immediately bowed their heads.
“Make everyone who lives in this village healthy and happy, um, and make the land fertile.”
“Please let the harvest this autumn be bountiful.”
Someone prayed desperately even though we hadn’t even sown any seeds yet.
“Please make it rain a lot.”
“Please keep moles away from our fields.”
People prayed their wishes toward the bowl and bread.
Popcorn flew around as if he found their behavior strange, then bowed toward the bowl himself.
What are you doing, praying to another spirit?
I was chuckling quietly when Ji-geu suddenly flopped down flat in front of the bowl.
“Spirit, please give me a bride for our house. I need a kind bride who will have lots of babies.”
Everyone burst out laughing at the child’s words.
Ji-geu, what do you mean by a bride who has lots of babies?
Popcorn seemed delighted by their laughter.
He fluttered about, scattering tiny sparks of light everywhere.
In the middle of it, the boy who had fought Ji-geu muttered under his breath,
“Spirit, please make my strength incredibly powerful.”
Shouldn’t you be training for that instead of asking a spirit?
While the nearby adults laughed, the children kept praying with serious faces.