Craftsman
“When the weather gets this cold, the road sometimes breaks down. I was being careful, I really was, but the rear wheel came off for some reason…. There’s nothing to be done about it. Even if it takes a little time, I’m planning to take the carriage apart and move on.”
“Sounds to me like you’re saying you’re going to repair the carriage right here.”
“Yes. I may not look it, but I do have a bit of skill with my hands. A carriage is nothing I can’t fix.”
Morris said that while scratching his head, looking almost embarrassed.
“So you were a craftsman. You must be very good at it.”
“Oh, come now. That’s far too much praise. There are plenty of people like me in Albrade.”
“Albrade Port, then…. The place where the best craftsmen gather?”
“So even a pilgrim has heard of it. That’s right. There’s no better place to learn a trade.”
It was the very city Isolde had mentioned.
Albrade Port.
The city of craftsmen, where the finest hands in the land were said to gather.
“I hear there are masters there, too.”
“Not just masters—experts from every field. They’re all there.”
He ticked them off on his fingers.
Weavers, bakers, salt producers, butchers, brewers, and more.
It seemed that craftsmen whose names anyone would recognize lived there under the protection of guilds.
Still, even with skill, if the carriage was in this state, it would take time.
“Since we’ve come this far, would you mind if I took a look at the carriage?”
“Of course, but… please be careful. If anything were to happen and you got hurt, I’d have no face left to show the Goddess.”
Lawrence examined the carriage.
The journey must have been brutal, because the vehicle was covered in wounds. There were plenty of places pierced by spears or arrows, and the traces of patchwork repairs were easy enough to spot.
Crouching down, he inspected the rear wheel.
Not only had it fallen into something like a ditch, but the frozen ground—and whatever it had snagged on—had left the wheel unable to move forward or back.
Now he understood why they had been stuck here.
Even with a crowd of people, perhaps it might have been manageable.
As things stood, though, forcing the carriage loose looked like a difficult job in every sense.
“It certainly doesn’t look to be in good shape.”
“Even you can see that, pilgrim… no, what am I saying? What are we going to do? You’ve gotten your clothes all dirty.”
“It’s fine. I’m traveling, so if my habit doesn’t get dirty, that would actually be strange.”
Lawrence stopped Morris from fussing over getting something to wipe him down.
“There’s one thing I’d like to ask.”
“Ask whatever you like.”
“Pulling the carriage out would be easier than dismantling it, wouldn’t it?”
“Hm… well, of course. But as you can see, the situation is like this, so even if you were to help, pilgrim, I’m afraid it wouldn’t be easy.”
Morris wasn’t wrong.
Two grown men had been unable to do anything about the carriage.
No wonder he thought one more person wouldn’t make much difference.
Especially not the help of a pilgrim who still hadn’t quite shed his boyishness.
But that was only true of an ordinary pilgrim.
After watching the carriage for a moment, Lawrence extended his hand.
“Shadow.”
Shadow rose from the carriage’s own shadow.
The senses linked.
He sent Shadow beneath the carriage and tried to lift the rear wheel.
It was so heavy the carriage didn’t even seem to budge.
Sending a little more mana made no difference.
The rear wheel sat there as immovably as a fortress.
There was no need to be disappointed.
This simply meant that Shadow, in its current state, had reached its limit.
Lawrence withdrew the shadow and cast another spell.
“Shadow Light.”
Shadow light rose into the air.
For an instant, the darkness vanished.
Brilliant radiance swallowed the surroundings whole.
Morris’s eyes widened at the unexpected sphere of light.
But Lawrence had no time to worry about anyone else’s reaction.
With Shadow Light hanging in the air, he cast Shadow again.
This time, it was different.
He could feel the change for himself, clear and meaningful.
The rear wheel was still heavy.
But this time, it reacted.
Feeling the carriage tremble, Lawrence fed it more mana.
“Oh….”
At last, the rear wheel came free from the ditch.
Once he succeeded in pushing it up onto the ground, the carriage slowly rolled forward.
After confirming that, Lawrence withdrew Shadow.
“I’m glad it came loose. Just in case, you may want to check whether the rear wheel and the carriage are all right.”
“Thank you, pilgrim. I never thought I’d live to see the Goddess’s miracle with my own eyes.”
Morris stared at Lawrence with an expression of deep emotion.
“This isn’t a miracle. It’s magic.”
“Thank you. Thank you, merciful Goddess.”
Reason didn’t seem to matter.
He clasped his hands together and kept bowing his head.
Looking around, Lawrence saw that the rest of the family had reacted much the same way.
Was this how the people of Hilton Village had looked when they faced a miracle?
The wives had practically pressed their faces to the ground, calling out to the Goddess.
The only ones who didn’t seem to understand what was happening were the children.
Had it been a mistake to show them magic without explanation?
No. Even if he had explained it, nothing would have changed.
Ordinary people could not distinguish magic from miracles.
It had been the same in the Ulbazar Swamp.
In truth, Lawrence himself had never seen a miracle.
If someone asked him how magic differed from a miracle, he’d struggle to give a clear answer.
If even Lawrence would be at a loss, then how much more so for ordinary people who had no connection to any of this?
They would live their entire lives without ever coming face-to-face with magic or miracles.
Whether it was magic—
Or a miracle—
None of that mattered here and now.
All that remained was sincere gratitude.
Devotion offered to the Goddess was enough when it took the form of earnest prayer.
* * *
Lawrence prepared a campsite where he could spend the evening with Morris’s family.
Perhaps because he had approached them with good intentions first?
The family accepted the sudden guest with caution.
They were far from welcoming, of course. Morris was the only one willing to speak with Lawrence, while hiding the children behind his wife’s skirts, but they were no longer outright rejecting him.
With a wife, three children, and a younger brother he knew well, Morris was a middle-aged man with a warm, approachable face.
“Are you out of your mind, brother? How can you just take in someone you’ve never even met, not knowing what might happen?”
The friction erupted from his younger brother, who had just returned from checking the surroundings.
“Enough, Jace. He’s a pilgrim who works miracles.”
“I knew you were blind to anything but the Church, but I never imagined it was this bad.”
The black-haired man, Jace, clicked his tongue.
His scarred face failed to hide the obvious displeasure beneath it.
“I’m sorry. I seem to have made things uncomfortable. I’ll be on my way now, and I hope the Goddess’s blessing follows you on your journey.”
If his presence made things this awkward, there was no need to force himself to stay.
Truth be told, he would have been happy to accept the hospitality—but now that he had met Morris, if fortune was on his side, perhaps he would run into another traveler before long.
“No. There’s no need for that, pilgrim.”
“If you want to go, then go. I’ve no intention of stopping a man who’s decided to leave.”
“You little—!”
Voices rose.
Morris, his face hardening, pointed toward the carriage.
“No matter how you feel about it, he’s the one who helped us when we were in trouble. And you’d drive him away at this hour, when night’s already falling?”
“No, that’s not what I—”
“If you said it without thinking, that makes it worse. We’re craftsmen who make our living with our hands. But you can’t live in this world on skill alone. You know that, don’t you?”
“……”
“Of all things, words are what hurt people the easiest. I hope you won’t go telling me you still don’t understand that.”
His argument was plain and unanswerable, and Jace had no easy reply.
At last, his head slowly sank.
“I’m sorry. I was wrong, brother.”
“I understand what you’re worried about. I know it’s a natural concern. But shouldn’t people who have a hard time of it help one another? Driving out the person who reached out first is the sort of thing only a beast would do.”
“I know my duty as a human being, even if all I’ve ever done is work bronze. I just thought… maybe I was being careful.”
As if understanding that feeling, Morris patted his brother on the shoulder.
The small disturbance thus came to an end.
The two men settled things by bowing their heads to each other.
“I’m sorry, pilgrim.”
“No, it’s I who should apologize. It seems I’ve caused trouble between you and your party.”
Honestly, he had been surprised.
They always said a quiet person was terrifying when he got angry, and Morris was exactly that kind of man.
“Jace doesn’t understand the Goddess’s teachings, but he’s not a bad-hearted brother. In his heart, he knows this is the right thing. So if you don’t mind, pilgrim, I’d be grateful if you could let go of your anger.”
“You’re a good man, Morris.”
“Ho ho ho. A good man, you say? I’m always lacking. For my family, too. For myself as well.”
He moved a hand to the back of his head, looking embarrassed.
“By the way, where are you headed, pilgrim?”
“I’d like to say I’m on a pilgrimage in search of a holy place… but in truth, I was looking for the nearest village.”
This was as good a chance as any.
Lawrence voiced the question he had been wondering when to ask.
“So let me ask you this. Is there a village around here?”
“Hm… well. There used to be a fair number of villages, big and small. But that was a few years ago. I imagine even the nearest one would take more than a month to reach. And if you’re walking instead of riding a carriage, it would probably take two or three months.”
Two or three months.
It was a number that could empty the mind in an instant.
“A few years ago, then something must have happened.”
“Yes. I hear there was a territorial war on the Rival Plains recently. From what I’ve been told, two nobles fought over mines and hunting grounds in a region near Franque. The damage came right back down on the surrounding villages.”
Territorial war.
Rival Plains.
He had heard it all before in Redantus.
“Do these things always happen when a territorial war ends? This is the first I’ve heard of villages disappearing outright.”
“Apparently it wasn’t a matter of one side winning or losing. They just pushed the cleanup onto each other afterward. There’s a reason people say deserters turn into bandits. This area’s become dangerous, so what else can you do? If you want to survive, you run to another village.”
Could that be why there had been so few wild animals or monsters?
If so, it was dangerous in a different way from the Ulbazar Swamp.
“Don’t do that. Since we’ve met like this, why not travel with us? This isn’t exactly a good place for a pilgrim to journey alone.”
Seeing Lawrence hesitate, Morris continued.
“We’re headed for Rombamel. If you come with us, you’ll be there in a month at most.”
“If I travel with you, your party may be uncomfortable.”
“As for Jace, don’t worry about him. Time heals all things. Right now he’s just throwing a small fit.”
“……”
It was hard to deny that it was a good offer.
Lawrence had spent the last few days feeling in his bones just how miserable an unprepared journey could be. Another two or three months of this would be little short of suicide.
To be honest, he couldn’t rule out the chance of meeting another traveler, either.
And after hearing about the Rival Plains, it occurred to him that not meeting anyone might be preferable.
Still, could he really trust people he had only just met today?
There was no such thing as a favor without a price.
Normally, Jace’s reaction would have been the sensible one.
Hadn’t they said even bandits roamed these parts?
Taking a traveler you happened to meet on the road into your carriage was hardly a safe thing to do.
He glanced slightly aside toward the carriage.
There, Morris’s family was watching him with guarded eyes.
Judging by their reaction, they seemed less like people who stabbed others in the back and more like people worried about being stabbed themselves. Just like Jace a moment ago.
“If you come with us, it’ll be easier on us as well. When we enter cities, if you can vouch for our identity, it’ll be easier to get through the checkpoints.”
“...If you’re going to put it that way, refusing would be rude. Then I’ll impose on you for a little while.”
He didn’t know if Morris was truly trustworthy.
Still, he could feel the sincerity in the man’s voice.
“Since I’m hitching a ride on your carriage, I’ll earn my keep. I may be a pilgrim, but I’m also a mercenary. If we run into bandits or monsters, I’ll do my best to protect everyone.”
Before being a cleric of the Church, this was the bare minimum of decency.
At Lawrence’s answer, Morris’s expression brightened.
“If you’re willing to lend us a hand, I can ask no more. I had thought you might be reluctant because Rombamel hasn’t yet been reached by the Church.”
Rombamel sounded a lot like Hilton Village had in the past.
The Church didn’t have roots in every village. Even now, in Remington, the Church’s influence was only gradually expanding.
“I’m not in any position to be choosy about villages. If it were up to me, I’d rest right this instant.”
“The pilgrimage must have been hard on you.”
“Yes, well. A lot has happened.”
For a moment, everything he had endured flashed through his mind.
Now that his business in the Spirit World was over, Lawrence had more than enough reason to rest.
…Though it was a little disappointing that he still hadn’t obtained the Key of the Spirit World Acheron had instructed him to seek.
“And please, just call me Lawrence.”
“Would that be all right?”
“We’ll be traveling together for the time being, at least. I’d rather we keep the address informal.”
“Hm… understood. Then you should call me Morris, too.”
So this was the first knot tied well enough.
The atmosphere somehow felt lighter than before.
“Though if the Church hasn’t reached there yet, I suppose the village must be rather small.”
“Huh? Ahaha. Lawrence, you really do have a talent for jokes.”
Morris laughed as if Lawrence had just said something ridiculous.
“I’m talking about Rombamel. The border city. The lawless city. The so-called back-alley city—that Rombamel.”