Mushoku Tensei - Jobless Reincarnation (Light Novel) Vol. 1
Mushoku Tensei - Jobless Reincarnation (Light Novel) Vol. 1
Mushoku Tensei - Jobless Reincarnation (Light Novel) Vol. 1
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Copyrights and Credits
Title Page
Table of Contents Page
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Prologue
Chapter 1: Is This Another World?
Chapter 2: The Creeped-Out Maid
Chapter 3: A Textbook of Magic
Chapter 4: Master
Chapter 5: Swords and Sorcery
Chapter 6: Reasons for Respect
Chapter 7: Friends
Chapter 8: Obliviousness
Chapter 9: Emergency Family Meeting
Chapter 10: Stunted Growth
Chapter 11: Parted
Extra Chapter: The Mother of the Greyrat Family
Character Design Concept Gallery
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Prologue
My brash behavior around the house hadn’t won anyone over. I was the
sort of guy who’d bang on the walls and floors to get people’s attention
without leaving my room.
On the day of the funeral, I was halfway through jerking off, my body
arched in the air, when my brothers and sisters barged into my room in their
mourning garb and delivered their letter formally disowning me. When I
ignored it, my younger brother smashed my computer—which I valued more
than myself—with a wooden bat. Meanwhile, my older brother, the one with
a black belt in karate, stormed over in a blind rage and beat the crap out of
me.
I just let it happen, sobbing uselessly all the while, hoping that would
be the end of it. But my siblings forced me out of the house with nothing but
the clothes on my back. I had no choice but to wander around town, nursing
the throbbing pain in my side. It felt like I had a broken rib.
The biting words they hurled at me as I left our house would ring in my
ears for the rest of my life. The things they said cut me to my very core. I was
completely, totally heartbroken.
What the hell had I even done wrong? All I did was skip out on our
parents’ funeral so I could spank it to uncensored loli porn.
I was hosed. I finally realized that, despite having come this far, my life
was completely ruined.
It started to rain. “Ugh,” I grumbled.
Summer was over, bringing with it the autumn chill. My worn-out,
years-old sweatshirt soaked up the cold rain, mercilessly robbing my body of
precious heat.
“If only I could go back and do it all over again,” I muttered, the words
slipping unbidden from my mouth.
There was an incident from back then that I still remembered. I was in
line to buy lunch from the school store when someone cut in front of me.
Being the morally upstanding young man I was, I gave him a piece of my
mind, getting all up in his face, striking an awkward, humorless, and self-
conscious pose.
But as my luck would have it, this guy wasn’t just an upperclassman,
but one of the real nasty ones, vying to be the school’s top dog. He and his
buddies pounded my face swollen and puffy, then hung me from the school
gate, buck naked, practically crucified for all to see.
They took a ton of pictures, which they circulated throughout the
school like it was some simple prank. My social standing among my
classmates plummeted to rock bottom overnight, leaving me with the
nickname Pencil Dick.
When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was dazzling light. It
grew to encompass my entire field of vision, and I squinted in discomfort.
Once my vision adjusted, I became aware of the blonde young lady
gazing at me. She was one gorgeous girl—wait, no. She was definitely a
woman.
Who is she? I thought.
By her side was a young man of roughly the same age, his hair brown,
his awkward smile directed at me. He looked strong and proud, with
impressive musculature.
Brown-haired and stubborn-looking? I ought to have reacted negatively
the instant I saw this big oaf—but to my surprise, there was no feeling of ill
will. His hair must have been dyed that color. It was a very fetching shade of
brown.
The woman looked at me with a warm smile and spoke. Her words
were oddly indistinct and difficult to make out, however. Was she even
speaking Japanese?
The man said something in reply, his face losing some of its tension. I
likewise had no idea what he said.
A third unintelligible voice joined the conversation, but I couldn’t see
who was speaking. I tried getting up to figure out where I was and to ask
these people who they were. And let me tell you, I may have been a shut-in,
but that didn’t mean I didn’t know how to talk to people. But somehow, all I
could muster was this:
“Ahh! Waah!”
Nothing but garbled whining and moaning.
And I couldn’t move my body. I mean, I could sort of move my
fingertips and my arms, but I couldn’t sit up.
The brown-haired man said something else, then suddenly leaned down
***
***
***
***
It had been seven years since Lilia had last seen Paul. And not only had
he become a knight since then, but now he was also married? Lilia could
scarcely believe it. She didn’t know what ups and downs he had been
through, but if he was still the man she remembered, then he wasn’t a bad
fellow at all. If he knew she was in trouble, he’d probably help her out.
And if he didn’t… well, she’d just have to dredge up some stuff from
the past. She had several stories up her sleeve to use as bargaining chips if
she needed to. Having done that bit of mercenary calculus in her mind, Lilia
headed for Buena Village.
***
***
The child was given the name Rudeus, and what an unsettling child he
***
And so, Lilia lived in fear for the first year or so.
At some point, however, Rudeus’s ever-unpredictable behavior
changed. Instead of disappearing and reappearing at random, he stayed holed
up in Paul’s study in one corner of the second floor. Well, perhaps “study”
was a generous word for a simple room that housed a few books.
Rudeus would shut himself in there and not come out. One day, Lilia
It had been roughly two years since I’d been reincarnated. My legs
had finally developed enough so that I could walk.
Also, I was finally able to speak this world’s language.
***
Having decided to give my life an honest shot this time, I first needed
to make a plan.
What had I lacked in my previous life? Study, exercise, and technique,
that’s what.
As a baby, however, there wasn’t much I could do. Nothing much
beyond burying my face in someone’s chest when I was picked up, anyway.
Whenever I did that to the maid, she made no attempt to mask the displeasure
on her face; clearly, she wasn’t a fan of children.
Figuring that exercise was something that could wait, I began learning
to read books around the house. The study of language is a crucial thing;
almost one hundred percent of Japanese people are literate in their own
language, but many of them neglect their study of English or hesitate to
interact with people when abroad, so much so that the ability to speak a
foreign language is a valued skill. With that in mind, I decided to make this
world’s writing system my first subject.
There were only five books in our house. I didn’t know if that was
because books were expensive in this world or because Paul and Zenith
weren’t big readers. Probably it was some combination of both. As someone
who used to own a collection of several thousand books—even if they were
all light novels—the situation was tough to come to grips with.
Still, even five books was enough material to learn how to read. The
language of this world was close to Japanese, so I was able to pick it up
quickly enough. The written characters were completely different, but the
***
For the time being, I decided to try my hand at the simplest magic I
could. The textbook included both incantations and magic circle spells. Since
the former was now mainstream, and I had nothing to draw a magic circle
with, I opted to start by studying the incantations. As I understood it, as the
scope of a spell got larger, the invocations involved got longer, until you
eventually needed to use a magic circle in concert. But if I was starting out
with simpler things, I ought to be fine.
The most proficient of wizards, the book said, could cast spells without
incanting anything at all—or drastically shorten the incanting time at the very
least. I wasn’t sure why training allowed people to circumvent the
incantation, though. After all, the amount of someone’s magical power didn’t
change; there was no leveling up and no corresponding increase to maximum
MP. Maybe with training, the amount of MP spent on the spell decreased? But
spending less MP wouldn’t make the process less involved, would it?
Well, anyway. Whatever the case, I just needed to give it a shot.
With A Textbook of Magic in my left hand, I held out my right and
began to recite the words.
“Let the vast and blessed waters converge where thou wilt and issue
forth a single pure stream thereof—
Waterball!”
I felt a sensation like blood pooling in my right hand, and then, as if
***
“Honestly, Rudy,” my mother said, “when you get tired, you need to go
to the toilet first and then get to bed.”
I woke to find I’d fallen asleep with the book in hand, and wet myself
in the meantime. Dammit. I couldn’t believe I’d wet myself at my age. That
was humiliating. Dammit. How could I—
Wait. I was only two years old, right? Wetting myself was still
forgivable at that age, yeah?
So, it seemed my magical power had been too low after all. That
deflated my mood some. Still, even if all I could muster was two Waterballs,
what mattered was how I used them, I supposed. Maybe I should concentrate
on conjuring them more quickly?
Ugh.
***
The next day, I still felt fine after conjuring my fourth Waterball. It was
after the fifth that I started to feel tired.
“What the hell?”
Given my experience the day before, I knew that casting another would
cause me to black out, so I decided to stop.
And then it hit me: That put my limit at six Waterballs—twice what I’d
managed yesterday. I stared into the bucket that held five spells’ worth of
water and wondered why I’d been able to do twice as much as the day before.
Had I been more tired because it was my first time? Had the spells consumed
more MP because it was my first time casting them?
I’d cast all my spells today without incantations, so I doubted it had
anything to do with that. I had no idea. Perhaps my abilities would grow
***
***
The next day, I decided that I would continue to push my magic to its
limits daily, which increased how much I could use it. As I could recreate the
right feeling, casting a spell without an incantation was easy enough. I hoped
to master the Beginner spells for each branch of magic before long.
By “Beginner spells,” I meant the most basic spells that could be used
for offense. This included spells like Waterball and Fireball, as well as other
even more entry-level spells.
Spells were broken up into seven levels of difficulty: Beginner,
Intermediate, Advanced, Saintly, Kingly, Imperial, and Divine. Typically,
magicians with training could use the Advanced spells from the discipline of
magic they focused on, but could only use Beginner or Intermediate spells
from the other schools. Once someone was able to cast spells of a rank higher
than Advanced, they were acknowledged as a Fire Saint or Water Saint or
whatever, depending on their chosen branch.
Saintly magic. I kinda hoped to be that good someday. My magic
textbook, however, only included fire, water, wind, and earth spells up to the
Advanced level. Where was I ever going to learn Saintly magic, then?
No—I shouldn’t dwell on that so much, I decided. In RPG M*ker, if
you start out by making all your strongest monsters first, odds are it’s just
going to be frustrating. You need to start with the low-level stuff, like slimes.
Although I personally never managed to complete anything in that
game, even when I did start with slimes.
***
***
“My, Rudy really does love that book, doesn’t he?” Zenith said with a
smile as I puttered about with A Textbook of Magic in hand, as I usually did.
My parents didn’t seem bothered by the way I always lugged the book
around. Even when I was eating, I’d keep it tucked under my arm. I did,
however, make a point never to read it in front of them—not because I
wanted to keep my talents a secret, but simply because I wasn’t sure what this
world’s views on magic were. Back in my old world, for instance, witch
hunts had been a thing—you know, where they’d burn suspected magicians
alive for heresy.
Of course, considering that my magic textbook was something of a
practical guide, magic probably wasn’t considered heresy in this world, but
that didn’t mean people might not still take a dim view of it. Maybe magic
was something you only did when you were grown. If nothing else,
magicians risked blacking out if they used it too much; people might think it
could stunt a child’s growth.
With all that in mind, I decided to keep my magical aptitude a secret
from my family. As it was, I’d had to practice casting spells out the window,
so there was a chance I’d be found out anyway. I didn’t have much choice in
that, though. Not if I wanted to test how quickly I could launch my spells.
***
Zenith was over the moon, rambling on and on about how her son was
a genius for suddenly demonstrating a knack for magic. I couldn’t tell
whether she was just being a proud mother or if being able to use an
Intermediate-level spell was considered that impressive. It had to be the
former, right? She hadn’t seen me practicing any of my magic, so her saying
that she “just knew” I was a genius meant she’d already decided that for
herself, without any basis.
No, that wasn’t exactly true. She clearly had some kind of intuition. I
did talk to myself a lot. Even when I was reading, I’d mutter words or phrases
that I liked aloud. Ever since I came to this world, I’d been subvocalizing
things while reading; at first it was all in Japanese, but after picking up the
local tongue, I subconsciously started using that instead. When Zenith heard
me utter words, she would pipe up to explain what they meant. This was also
how I learned a lot of this world’s proper nouns, but that’s not really relevant
here.
Nobody had said anything as I went about teaching myself this world’s
language. Nobody taught me the words I was reading, either. From my
parents’ perspective, they were seeing their child read when he hadn’t been
taught, as well as speaking the contents of books aloud. Of course they’d
think I was a genius.
I mean, if it were my kid, that’s what I’d think.
That’s how it went in my past life, after my younger brother was born.
He was faster to grow up—faster in picking things up compared to me or my
older brothers, including speaking and walking. My parents were the sort of
easygoing folks who’d cheekily say, “Oh, I wonder if he’s a genius,” even
when it was nothing that impressive.
I had to keep in mind that, while I might have been a jobless high-
school dropout, I also had the mental age of a person in his mid-thirties. I
could do this!
“Honey, we have to get him a home tutor!” Zenith said. “I’m sure we’ll
***
And so it was decided that a home tutor should be hired for me.
I gathered that the position of personal instructor to a young noble was
a well-paying one. Paul was one of the few knights in the area, which made
him a fairly low-ranking noble himself, so I wondered whether he could offer
competitive pay. We were out in the sticks on the far border of the kingdom,
though, and out on the frontier, high-level talent (especially for something
***
***
***
One night, while practicing some magic, I heard the lascivious sounds
of a creaking bedframe and lurid moaning coming from somewhere. Well,
not “somewhere,” really—it was coming from Paul and Zenith’s bedroom.
And my, were the sounds vigorous. In the not-too-distant future, I might be
welcoming a little brother or sister.
Hopefully a sister. No more younger brothers for me. In my mind’s
eye, I could still see my past life’s younger brother winding up for a full
swing with his bat, smashing my beloved PC to bits. I didn’t need a younger
brother. But a kid sister would be nice.
“Oh, man…”
In my old life, I’d just stay put and bang on either the wall or the floor
to shut people up whenever I was disturbed by sounds like these. Thanks to
that, my older sister stopped bringing guys home entirely. Man, that brought
back memories.
***
***
“Miss Roxy, how come there are only spells for things to be used in
combat?” I asked abruptly.
“Oh, well, that’s not really the case, actually,” Roxy replied. “Let’s see.
What’s the best way to explain it? Okay, first off, it’s said that magic was
originally created by the High Elves.”
***
One day, out of the blue, I decided to ask Roxy, “Would it be better if I
called you ‘Master’ instead of just ‘Miss’?”
Roxy scrunched up her face awkwardly. “No, probably best not to. I’m
sure you’ll easily surpass me soon enough.”
I had enough talent to be better than Roxy? It was enough to make me
blush.
“After all, it’d be weird to call someone whose powers were inferior to
yours ‘Master,’” Roxy added.
“I don’t think it’s that weird.”
“Well, it’d be weird for me. I’d never outlive the shame of having
someone who’s clearly better than me referring to me as ‘Master.’”
Ah. Was that what this was all about, then? “Are you saying that
because you got stronger than your own master, Miss Roxy?”
“Listen, Rudy: A master is someone who says they have nothing else
they can teach you, but still butts in with their advice on each and every thing
you do.”
“You wouldn’t do that, though, Miss Roxy.”
“I might.”
“Even if you did, I’d be honored.” Roxy always looked pretty satisfied
with herself whenever she advised me on things; I probably had quite the grin
on my own face when plying her with compliments.
“Oh, no. If I became that resentful of my own student’s talents, there’s
no telling what I might blurt out.”
“Like what sorta things?”
“Stuff like how I’m just a filthy demon, or how you’re just some
country hick.”
Wow, did Roxy seriously just say that to me? I felt sort of bad for her.
Being discriminated against wasn’t great, after all. But I guess that’s what
you get when there’s a hierarchy to your relationship with someone.
***
Given that background, the art of the blade was far more advanced in
this world than it was in my old one. A master swordsman could cleave a
boulder in a single stroke, or unleash a flash of the blade to strike a distant
foe.
Paul had enough skill to accomplish the first one. I wanted to know the
principles behind it, so he demonstrated it several times while praising and
encouraging me. He probably felt pretty good having his young, Advanced-
magic-using son clapping and cheering for him.
Still, no matter how many times he showed me the trick, I couldn’t tell
how he did it. So I asked for an explanation.
“Take a step forward, like hngh, and then fwam!”
“Like this?”
***
***
Paul decided that I would learn both the Sword God Style and Water
God Style: the former to get a good handle on offense and the latter for
defense.
“But Father,” I asked, “based on what you’ve told me, it sounds like
North God Style is the most balanced of the three.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not even a style—it’s just using a sword to
***
I had not left home since I’d come to this world. After a point, that
became intentional on my part.
I was afraid.
When I stepped into the yard and looked at the world beyond,
memories came flooding back to me: memories of that day. The ache in my
side. The chill of the rain. Regret. Despair. The pain of being hit by that
truck.
It was as vivid as if it had been yesterday. My legs trembled.
I was able to look out the window. I was able to step into our yard. But
I could not bring myself to go farther. And I knew why.
This serene pastoral landscape that stretched out before me could turn
into hell in an instant. As peaceful as the scenery looked, it would never
accept me.
In my past life, while sitting around the house, frustrated and horny, I’d
fantasize about Japan suddenly getting caught up in a war. And then some hot
girl showing up one day needing a place to stay. I knew that if that happened,
I’d rise to the challenge.
That fantasy was my escape from reality. I’d dreamt it so many times.
In those dreams, I wasn’t larger than life or anything—just a normal guy. Just
a normal guy, doing normal things, living a normal life for himself.
But then, I’d wake up from that dream. I feared that if I took one step
away from my home now, I’d wake up from this dream, too. I’d wake up, and
find myself right back in that moment of crushing despair, battered by the
waves of my many regrets.
No. This was no dream. It felt far too real. Maybe if you’d told me it
was a VRMMORPG, but—no. This is reality, I told myself. I knew it was.
Reality, and not a dream.
And yet, I still couldn’t bring myself to take that one step away from
***
The graduation ceremony was to take place outside the village, Roxy
informed me.
I protested meekly. “Outside?”
“Yes, just outside the village. I’ve already got the horse prepared.”
“Can’t we do it inside the house?”
“No, we can’t.”
“We can’t, huh?” I was at a loss. Intellectually, I knew that someday
I’d need to venture into the world beyond. My body refused to comply,
though. It still remembered too much from before.
It remembered my old life. Getting beaten up by punks. Being laughed
at uproariously. Experiencing tremendous heartbreak. Having no choice but
to become a shut-in.
“Why, what’s the matter?” Roxy asked.
“Um, well, it’s just… there might be monsters or something out there.”
“Oh, we certainly won’t run into any of them around these parts, long
as we don’t get too close to the forests. Even if we do, they’ll be weak
enough that I can take care of them. Heck, you could probably handle them
yourself.” Roxy frowned dubiously at all my hemming and hawing about not
wanting to leave. “Ah, that’s right, I remember hearing that… You’ve never
left home, have you, Rudy?”
“Er… no.”
“Is it because you’re afraid of the horse?”
“N-no, I’m…not that scared of horses.” I actually liked horses, really.
I’d played Derby Stallion and everything.
***
This was the first time I’d gone farther than my own yard. Roxy slowly
guided us through the village. From time to time, villagers would shoot sharp,
unabashed stares in my direction.
Oh, please, no, I thought. Those looks were as scary as ever—
especially that glint of sneering superiority I knew too well. Surely they
wouldn’t come up and address me with a snide, condescending tone…right?
They didn’t even know me. How could they? The only people who knew me
in this entire world were the ones in that tiny little house.
So why were they looking at me? Quit staring at me, I grumbled
inwardly. Get back to work.
But—no. It wasn’t me they were staring at.
***
We continued our way across the plains, bound for the flat horizon.
No—faintly, in the distance, I could see mountains. If nothing else, this
was something you couldn’t see in Japan. It reminded me of a picture of the
Mongolian steppes in a geography textbook or something.
“Right here should do nicely,” Roxy said, bringing the horse to a stop
next to a solitary tree. She dismounted and tied the reins to the tree.
Then, she picked me up and helped me down, putting us face to face.
“I’m going to cast the Water Saint-level attack spell Cumulonimbus,” she
said. “It creates thunder, and causes torrential rain to come down in a large
area.”
“All right.”
“Please follow what I do and attempt to cast the spell yourself.”
I was going to be using Water Saint-level magic. Now I got it: This was
my final examination. Roxy was going to use the most powerful spell she had
in her repertoire, and if I was able to use it as well, that would mean she’d
taught me all she could.
“For demonstration purposes, I’m going to dismiss the spell after a
minute. If you can keep the rain falling for…at least one hour, let’s say, I’ll
consider that a pass.”
“Did we come out here where there aren’t any people because this
involves secret teachings?” I asked.
“No, we came here because the spell might hurt people or cause
damage to the crops.”
Wow. Rain so powerful it could damage crops? This sounded
incredible.
“Now then.” Roxy raised both her hands skyward. “Oh, spirits of the
magnificent waters, I beseech the Prince of Thunder! Grant me my wish,
bless me with thy savagery, and reveal to this insignificant servant a glimpse
***
The following day, Roxy stood in the entryway to our house in her
traveling gear, the spitting image of the person who had arrived two years
prior. My mother and father didn’t look much different, either. About the
only thing that had changed was that I was taller.
“Roxy,” Zenith said, “you’re more than welcome to stay. I still have
plenty of recipes that I could teach you.”
Paul followed up. “Right. Your role as a home tutor may have come to
an end, but we’re in your debt for your help with the drought last year. I’m
sure the villagers would be happy to have you stick around.”
Here were my parents, trying to keep Roxy from leaving. Unbeknownst
to me, they’d apparently become good friends. Which made sense; her
afternoons had been a huge swath of free time, and I guess she’d spent it
broadening her social circle. She wasn’t just a love interest in a video game,
whose circumstances only changed when the main character did something.
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m afraid I can’t accept,” Roxy replied.
“Teaching your son has made me realize how powerless I truly am, so I’m
going to head out and travel the world for a while to hone my magic.”
She had to be a little shocked that I’d reached the same rank as her.
And she’d said previously that having a pupil who exceeded her skills made
her uncomfortable.
“I see,” said Paul. “I suppose it is what it is. I’m sorry that our son
caused you to lose confidence in yourself.”
Hey! You didn’t have to put it like that, Dad!
“Oh, no,” Roxy said. “I’m grateful to be shown how conceited I’ve
I decided to try going outside. After all, Roxy had shown me I could
do that, and I wasn’t going to let that go to waste.
“Father,” I said, my botanical encyclopedia in one hand, “can I go and
play outside?”
Children my age were prone to wandering as soon as you took your
eyes off of them. Even if I stayed in the general neighborhood, I didn’t want
to worry my parents by slipping away without saying anything.
“Hmm? Play outside? Not just out in the yard, I take it?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh. Well, sure. Of course you can.” Paul gave his permission readily
enough. “Come to think of it, we haven’t given you much free time. Here we
are, taking up all your time teaching you swordsmanship and spellcraft, but
it’s important for children to play, too.”
“I really appreciate that I’ve got such good teachers.”
I thought of Paul as a strict father who was worried too much about his
kid’s education, but his line of thinking was actually pretty flexible. I’d half-
expected a demand to spend all day working on my swordsmanship. It was
almost a letdown.
Paul was a man of intuition. “But, hmm… you really want to go out? I
used to think you were such a frail boy, but I guess time does fly, huh?”
“You thought I was frail?” This was news to me. I hadn’t ever been
sick or anything.
“Because of how you never used to cry.”
“Oh. All right. But if I’m all right now, then it’s no problem, yeah? I’ve
grown up to be a healthy and charming boy! Seeeeee?” I pulled my cheeks
and made a funny face.
Paul frowned. “It’s the ways in which you aren’t childish that worry
me more.”
***
Several days went by. I wasn’t afraid of the outside world anymore.
Things were going pretty well. I was even able to exchange greetings with
passersby without mumbling my way through.
People knew about me—that I was the son of Paul and Zenith, and
Roxy’s disciple. When I ran into people for the first time, I’d greet them
properly and introduce myself. People I was meeting again got a “good day.”
Everyone greeted me back, bright smiles on their faces. It had been a long
time since I’d felt so open and carefree.
Paul and Roxy’s combined relative fame was more than half of what
helped me feel so comfortable. The rest was all thanks to what Roxy had
done for me. Which meant, I guess, that Roxy was to thank for the bulk of it.
I’d have to take very good care of those treasured panties.
***
***
Sylph’s father was a very attractive man. He had pointed ears and
blond hair that almost glittered, and he was slender without lacking muscle
definition. Certainly, he lived up to the name of half-elf, having inherited the
best parts of both elf and human.
He stood guard at a watchtower on the edge of the forest, a bow in one
hand. “Father,” Sylph called. “I’ve brought your lunch.”
“Ah, thank you, Phi, as always. Did you get bullied again today?”
“I’m okay. Someone helped me out.”
Sylph turned to look my way, and I bowed slightly. “Nice to meet
you,” I said. “I’m Rudeus Greyrat.”
“Greyrat? As in Paul Greyrat?”
“Yes, sir. He’s my father.”
“Ah, yes, I’ve heard of you! My, what a polite boy you are. Oh, you’ll
have to forgive me. I’m Laws. I typically hunt in these forests.”
***
Paul
My son was angry. The boy had never been one to display much
overt emotion, but here he was, silently fuming. How did it come to this?
It started that afternoon, when Mrs. Eto came by our house, furious.
She brought along her son Somal, considered one of the neighborhood brats.
There was a blue bruise around one of his eyes. As a swordsman who’d seen
my fair share of battle, I knew right away that he’d taken a punch.
His mother’s story was long and rambling, but the gist was that my boy
had punched hers. When I heard that, I was inwardly relieved.
Under the tree atop the hill, Sylph came by, as he usually did. “Sorry,”
he said. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”
“Not at all,” I replied. “I just got here myself.” That’s how we’d start
things off: like a couple, where one would wait for the other before we began.
Back when we first started playing, Somal or some other local punks
would come by. Sometimes older kids—school-aged or in their early teens—
would be in the mix, but I drove them all off. Whenever I did, Somal’s
mother would come by my house to yell at me.
That’s when I figured out that Somal’s mother wasn’t so much invested
in castigating children as she was fond of Paul. She was using scuffles
between little kids as an excuse to come and see him. She was absurd. At the
barest scratch, she’d march over to our place with her son in tow, which
Somal didn’t seem too pleased with. So, yeah, he wasn’t faking injuries after
all. Sorry for doubting him.
I think they came after us about five times. Then, one day, they stopped
coming our way altogether. Occasionally, we’d catch sight of them playing
off in the distance, or we’d pass each other by, but neither side ever said
anything. We’d apparently agreed to just ignore one another.
With that, the issue seemed to be resolved, and the tree on top of the
hill became our territory.
***
***
Paul
I came home after work to find my son assaulting the young girl that
he always liked spending time with.
I wanted to tear into him on the spot, but I managed to stay level.
Maybe this was another case where there were circumstances I wasn’t aware
of. I didn’t want to repeat my previous failure. For now, I decided to put the
sobbing girl in the care of my wife and the maid while I helped my son clean
up and dry off.
“Why were you doing something like that?” I asked.
Rudeus
Learning that Sylphie was a girl changed my attitude. Seeing her in her
boyish getup made me feel kind of weird.
“You’re really cute, Sylphie,” I said. “Maybe you should try growing
your hair out?”
“Huh?”
I figured it’d be easier for me to see her in a new light if she changed
her appearance, hence the suggestion. Sylphie may have hated her hair, but
that emerald green color would look dazzling in the sunlight. I definitely
wanted her to try growing it out—and, if possible, for her to style it in either
pigtails or a ponytail.
“No…” she said.
Ever since that incident, Sylphie had been wary of me. In particular,
she conspicuously avoided physical contact. Since she always went along
with whatever I’d proposed, I was kind of shocked. “All right,” I said. “Did
you want to practice some more silent spellcasting today?”
“Sure.”
I forced a smile to mask my feelings. Sylphie was my only friend. At
least we could still play together. There might be some lingering
awkwardness, but at least we were still hanging out together.
For today, I told myself, that would be good enough.
Swordsmanship
Sword God Style: Beginner; Water God Style: Beginner
Attack Magic
Fire: Advanced; Water: Saint; Wind: Advanced; Earth: Advanced
Healing Magic
Healing: Intermediate; Detoxification: Beginner
Healing magic was divided into the same seven ranks as usual, and
comprised four schools: Healing, Protection, Detoxification, and Divine
Strike. But these schools didn’t come with cool-sounding titles like Fire Saint
or Water Saint; you were simply called a Saintly-level Healing caster, or a
Saintly-level Detoxification caster.
Healing magic, as the name implied, was used to heal injuries.
Beginners would expend most of their effort simply to close up wounds, but
it was said that people at the Imperial level could regrow lost limbs. But not
even someone at the Divine level could bring a dead creature back to life.
Detoxifying magic helped to purge poisons and disease. At higher
levels, one could create toxins, craft antidotes, and the like. Spells that dealt
with abnormal status effects were all Saintly-level or higher, and were
apparently quite difficult.
Protection magic included spells to increase one’s defenses and create
barriers. In simple terms, it was a form of support magic. I wasn’t too clear
on the details, but my understanding was that it included things like
increasing your metabolism to heal minor wounds, or generating chemicals in
the brain to numb you to pain. Roxy couldn’t use that kind of magic.
Spells in the Divine Strike school were apparently very effective at
***
One day, I was outside doing sword training with Paul. Unwittingly, I
let out a loud sigh.
I thought my father would be angry with me for being so obviously out
of breath, but he flashed a grin instead. “Hehehe. What’s the matter, Rudy?”
***
I got to our spot under the tree earlier than usual, so Sylphie hadn’t
shown up yet. I’d brought my wooden practice sword, as always, but I hadn’t
cleaned up before heading out like I usually did, so I was all sweaty.
What should I do? There was nothing to be done, really. Times like
this, I just had to do mental exercises. I swung my sword around as I ran
through some simulations in my head. I’d shown her my strengths. Now I had
to show my weaknesses. Weakness. How was I supposed to do that again?
Ah, right—let her see that I was feeling down. But how? When was the right
time? Should I just come out with it right away? That seemed like it’d be
weird. Should I try to work it into the flow of the conversation? Could I do
that, though? No—I would.
Caught up with thinking about this while idly swinging my sword, I
must have loosened my grip, because the sword slipped right out of my hand.
“Whoops!” I followed its path as it skittered along the ground, landing right
at Sylphie’s feet.
My mind went completely blank. Crap! What should I do? What
should I say?!
“What’s the matter, Rudy?” Sylphie was staring at me, her eyes wide.
What was the matter? Was it because I’d shown up super early?
“Uhh…hmm…well… Y-you’re… You’re really cute, and I, err…
wanted to see you, but, uh…”
“No, not that. The sweat.”
“Hmff… Ahh… S-sweat? Whaddya mean?” I approached, causing her
to flinch and recoil. As usual, she wouldn’t let me get within a certain
distance of her. It was like we were the same poles of two different magnets.
Sweat dripped off my forehead. My breathing leveled out. Good.
I reached down to pick up the wooden sword in dejection, then struck a
remorseful pose, facing away from her. I allowed my shoulders to slump, and
let out a heavy sigh. “Man. I feel like you don’t like me anymore, Sylphie.”
Zenith had learned she was pregnant. I was going to have a little
brother or sister. Our family was growing. Oh, Rudy, you lucky guy!
For a few years now, Zenith had been worried about her inability to
conceive another child. I’d heard her mutter and sigh on occasion about how
maybe she couldn’t bear children anymore, but about a month earlier, there
was a shift in her food cravings, along with nausea, vomiting, and a general
sense of fatigue—in other words, symptoms of classic morning sickness. The
feelings were familiar, and a trip to the doctor confirmed that her self-
diagnosis was almost certainly correct.
The Greyrat household was abuzz at the announcement. What will we
name the baby if it’s a boy? What will we name it if it’s a girl? We still have
rooms, right? Oh, we can use Rudy’s old clothes and hand-me-downs. There
was no end to the topics to be discussed.
It was a day of bubbling joy and countless smiles. I was honestly very
happy, hoping that I’d wind up with a little sister. A younger brother might
break all of my precious things (with a baseball bat).
The problems didn’t arise until about a month later.
***
Our maid, Lilia, had discovered that she was pregnant, as well.
“I’m so sorry,” she announced matter-of-factly to the family as we sat
at the table. “I’m pregnant.”
In that instant, the Greyrat family froze. Who was the father? But given
the circumstances, nobody could bring themselves to ask.
Everyone had realized it on some level at least. Lilia was our maid. She
sent almost all of her pay back home to her family. Unlike Paul, who
frequently headed into town to help settle problems, or Zenith, who helped
out at the local clinic at certain times, Lilia almost never left the house unless
***
It was Zenith who first broke the silence. She had the authority in this
meeting. “So, what are we going to do?”
From what I could see, Zenith was as calm as anything; instead of
going into a fit of hysterics over how her husband had cheated on her, she’d
contented herself with a single smack. A red mark like a maple leaf spread
across Paul’s cheek.
“After I’ve assisted with the lady of the house’s birth,” Lilia said, “I
assume I would take my leave from your home.” She seemed rather level as
well. Maybe this was a common occurrence in this world?
Paul was all huddled up in a corner. So much for paternal dignity.
“What about the child?” Zenith asked.
“I was thinking I would give birth here in Fittoa, and then raise the
baby back in my hometown,” Lilia replied.
“You’re originally from the south, yes?”
“That’s right.”
“You’re going to be physically exhausted after the birth,” Zenith said.
“You’ll be in no condition to make a long journey.”
“Perhaps so, but I have nowhere else to turn.”
The Fittoa Region was in the northeastern part of the Asura Kingdom.
Based on my understanding, to reach what was considered “the south” in this
context took close to a month and required switching between multiple
stagecoaches. Still, that was a month traveling through safe lands with good
weather, and riding in stagecoaches wasn’t terribly arduous.
That, however, was for a typical traveler. Lilia had no money. She
couldn’t afford to ride on stagecoaches, and would have go on foot. Even if
the Greyrats paid for her travel expenses, that didn’t make it any less risky.
***
And so, with all of the responsibility laid squarely on Paul, we got
through things without further issue. By the end, Zenith was looking at him
with the cold dispassion of someone who was about to slaughter a pig. My
balls tensed up in anticipation of what punishment she might unleash upon
him. With that look still in her eyes, though, Zenith simply returned to her
room.
Lilia was crying, her face blank and expressionless, but tears streamed
from her eyes. Paul looked conflicted about whether he should put his arms
around her or not. For the time being, I was going to let the playboy do his
thing.
I followed after Zenith. If this situation wound up with her and Paul
getting divorced, that would create its own host of problems.
I knocked on the bedroom door, and Zenith poked her head out.
“Mother,” I said, deciding to just cut right to the chase, “the stuff I said
earlier was a lie I just made up. Please don’t hate Father.”
For a moment, Zenith was taken aback, but then she grimaced and
gently patted my head. “I know, sweetie. I would never have fallen in love
with a man who was that terrible,” she said. “Your father’s got a weakness
for women, so I’d prepared myself for the day something like this might
happen.”
“Father has a weakness for women?” I asked, playing ignorant.
“Yes. Not as much in more recent times, but back in the day he was
pretty indiscriminate. You might have older brothers and sisters out there that
we don’t know about, Rudy.” She then exerted a bit more pressure with the
hand that was ruffling my hair. “Make sure you don’t grow up to be someone
like that, okay, Rudy?” She rubbed—no, gripped the top of my head even
more firmly. “Make sure you treat Sylphie real nice, okay, Rudy?”
“Ah, ow! Of course, Mother! Th-that hurts!” It almost felt like she’d
nailed down what I was going to go on to do in the future.
Lilia
I’ll just come out and say it: I was the one who seduced Paul.
I had no intention of doing such a thing when I first came to this house.
But to hear them moaning night after night, to clean a room that smelled of a
man and woman who were very satisfied—I had my needs, and they were
building up.
At first, I was able to deal with those needs on my own. Watching Paul
practicing swordsmanship in the yard every morning, however, stoked the
fire inside me that had never completely died.
Watching him practicing swordsmanship reminded me of our first time.
We were still so young, back when he was staying at the training hall
where we practiced. Paul snuck into my room at night, and that was that. I
didn’t dislike him, but I certainly didn’t love him back. It wasn’t exactly the
most romantic encounter.
The next person who made advances toward me, though, was that bald,
fat minister. That certainly put into perspective how much better things with
Paul had been.
Also, when I heard that Paul was hiring a maid, I figured I could use
what had happened back then as leverage in my negotiations.
Paul was a much manlier fellow than he’d been back then; any trace of
boyishness had disappeared, replaced with the look of a man who’d refined
himself both physically and mentally. At the sight of him, one of the first
Rudeus
***
***
Paul might have been human garbage, but I could say this much for
him: He was good with a sword. These were his skills:
Sword God Style: Advanced.
***
***
Dear Rudeus,
How have you been?
It’s hard to believe, but I suppose two years have flown by since we
parted.
Things have finally settled down a bit on my end, so I thought I’d take
the chance to write.
At the moment, I’m staying in the royal capital of the Kingdom of
Shirone. In the course of exploring various labyrinths, it seems I’ve made
something of a name for myself, so I ended up getting hired to tutor a certain
prince.
Teaching him brings back memories of the time I spent in the Greyrat
household. For one thing, the prince is actually quite a bit like the young man
I tutored there. While not quite as talented as you, he’s a quick-witted boy
and a budding young magician in his own right. Regrettably, he’s also prone
to stealing my underwear and peeping on me when I’m changing, just like
someone else I could name. His personality’s a bit on the pompous side, and
P.S. It’s quite possible I will have left the royal court by the time your
***
The next day, I waited until my family was gathered at the dinner table,
and then made my move.
“Father, can I make a selfish request?”
Paul
One morning, maybe a month after I told Paul that I wanted to start
working, a letter addressed to him arrived at our home.
It was probably the reply that I’d been waiting for. I tried my best to
brace myself for the news without getting too impatient.
Would he tell me after training? At lunch? Maybe dinner?
For the moment, I decided to focus on our sword practice.
***
***
When I woke up, I found myself inside a box of some sort. Given all
the swaying and clattering going on, it was presumably some kind of vehicle.
I tried to sit up, only to discover that I couldn’t move at all. Looking
Paul
***
At the moment, Rudy was crouched next to his little sisters’ cribs with
a very serious expression on his face—so much like his father’s.
Frowning intently, he peered into one crib for a moment, then looked
over into the other.
“Aah. Aah!”
Norn began to fuss, and Rudy’s expression stiffened even further.
But an instant later…
“Blablabwah!”
He stuck out his tongue at her and made a silly face.
“Ha haa! Baa, baa!”
Nodding in satisfaction as Norn gurgled happily, Rudeus resumed his
previous serious expression.