“I’m exhausted!!!” she hollered.

  Silly me! Thinking she was just taking a sip of air...

  We didn’t have neighbors out here, but had we lived in an apartment, I could one-hundred-percent guarantee that the person next door would be banging at our walls in complaint.

  “That’s only natural,” I said to her with a wry smile.

  I’d never tagged along on hunting trips before, but even Diana had come back worn out after her first few, and she had far more stamina than the typical sheltered lady.

  Wild animals—the ones from my previous world included—could run at unbelievable speeds. Pursuing them on foot was demanding work.

  “But you showed some good moves out there,” Samya complimented Anne.

  Anne propped herself up. “I’ve been hunting a few times before, though never in a forest.”

  I see. She might not be able to compare to Diana, but deep down, she’s a tomboy too. Otherwise, I suppose she wouldn’t have wanted a greatsword.

  “More importantly,” Anne said, “that was one humongous boar!”

  “Today’s catch was especially huge,” Samya agreed. “They’re usually smaller.”

  “It was the first time in my life I’ve ever seen a boar that size,” Lidy added.

  And so, the three of them clamored over the day’s success. At least now I knew what the catch of the day was. Anne was particularly worked up. Having caught her breath, she was now babbling enthusiastically. Hunting in the forest might actually suit her.

  At the moment, she was standing on tiptoe, throwing her arms wide and saying, “Thiiis tall, and thiiis wide,” to really drive home the point of how enormous the boar had been. She was chattering away with the pure passion of a child—it was almost like her brain had regressed in inverse proportion to her stature.

  “Was it really that huge?” I asked.

  “We wouldn’t have been able to do it without Krul,” Diana answered. “Luckily, she did come along, and we were a large group, so it was mostly safe to take the boar on. That’s what Samya said.”

  “Oh, really?”

  Diana and I both glanced at Samya. She noticed us and shrugged. “Lucy was actually the one who found it.”

  “She did?”

  “Ruff!!!” Lucy barked in response, her tail batting left and right.

  I patted her head. She was growing up to be a wonderful hunting hound—nay, a hunting wolf. Soon, she’d be able to take down critters (like rabbits) all by herself. At that point, it would be up to her whether she wanted to stay by our side.

  We weren’t going to bring the boar back until tomorrow, so I prepared our usual fare for dinner. As we ate, Anne kept nodding off, her head bobbing and her body swaying like a ship at sea. A deep, sound sleep was surely waiting for her tonight.

  She’ll wake up on time tomorrow, right?

  Contrary to my fears, the next morning, Anne got up with no problems. Between the previous day’s exertion, lingering muscle pains, and how exhausted she’d been last night, I’d thought she might have trouble waking. However, her eyes were bright and clear, and her movements were sharp.

  The discrepancy niggled at my mind as I set the table, but Anne soon cleared up the mystery.

  With the biggest grin I’d ever seen on her face, she declared, “I can’t wait to take back our catch!”

  Now I get it. I smiled.

  After a peaceful breakfast, we got ready to head out.

  The forest was our home territory. We were only trekking to the lake to fetch yesterday’s boar, but it was impossible to predict what could happen. Just in case, we each brought a weapon.

  Even if there weren’t any more assassins roaming around, there could be bears in the area—they were honestly the bigger threat. If we had the bad luck to stumble across one, the only chance we had of defeating it without injury was to kill it quickly. The best defense is a good offense!

  I gave Anne one of the (entry-level) knives we’d forged yesterday. A spear was still short enough to use in the forest to some extent, but swinging around a greatsword in the crowded confines would court disaster. Even so, Anne appeared dissatisfied.

  “Your weapon is hardly short, Eizo,” she accused, her expression sullen.

  “No, but it’s still considerably shorter than a greatsword,” I retorted casually.

  I was covering all my bases in case Anne was...you know. With her height and the reach of a greatsword, she’d be able to cover a vast distance with every swing—even someone equipped with a spear would have trouble dealing with her.

  Though I was ninety percent sure we wouldn’t have to fight, in case reality fell into the remaining ten percent, she’d be able to deal some major damage, even if she didn’t manage to kill anyone in the family. Until I could be completely sure of her true intentions, it was best to stay on my toes.

  That was also the reason I’d given her an entry-level model instead of an elite one; if something were to happen, it was best to minimize the damage.

  Unaware of my concerns, Anne strolled through the forest in a chipper mood, as merry as Krul and Lucy were. The only blip on her enjoyment was disappointment at not being able to carry her sword. As if reflecting Anne’s joy, sunlight shone through the canopy here and there, so it was bright even under the trees.

  We caught sight of squirrel-like critters and a different species of deer than the one we usually hunted. With every new encounter, Anne would inquire about the animal, and Samya would explain.

  “Didn’t you see any animals yesterday?” I asked Anne.

  “There wasn’t time for that,” she replied.

  Aaah, I see.

  Even if the worst-case scenario ended up becoming reality, it was still good for Anne to take an interest in the forest. She was less likely to get any weird ideas about a place she had fond memories of...right?

  We took our time traveling to the lake, and we eventually arrived at the spot where they’d sunk the boar, albeit later than usual.

  “You’re right. It’s big,” I said when we arrived.

  “Told you,” Samya replied proudly.

  We had yet to wade into the lake, but I could see the boar’s imposing bulk from where I stood. I doubted I was any taller than its shoulders—it looked like it easily weighed five hundred kilograms. I had heard that boars in Europe could grow to that size.

  It was practically a monster.

  Rike and Lidy stayed on shore to chop lumber, while the rest of us went in to drag the boar out. We fanned out around it, each grabbed a leg, and pulled. Despite the slight buoyancy of the water, it was still unimaginably heavy.

  I sighed, “It’s tough hauling this beast even a few steps.”

  “Now you see why Anne was so worn out yesterday,” Diana replied.

  A day of running around followed by a powerlifting session... No wonder she’d been dead on her feet.

  In my last world, there’d been a scene in an anime where a group of hunters used the pelt of a boar to disguise their scent. That plan would’ve been easy to carry out with a boar this size. The body weighed a ton, even without the innards, which had already been removed. Those organs had most certainly been massive as well. They’d likely made quite the feast for any wolves in the area.

  With all of our strength combined, we somehow managed to drag the body to shore, where we loaded it onto the pallet that Rike and Lidy had constructed. They’d made a larger one than usual, but the body was still spilling off the sides.

  “Okay, Krul, it’s all yours,” I said, rubbing the drake’s neck. “You can stop if it’s too heavy.”

  “Kululululululu,” she cried, as if to say, “You can count on me!” She took one heavy step forward—I could practically hear her muscles straining—and trudged slowly into the forest.

  There was barely any mud left on the ground, but this boar was proving to be a challenge for even Krul to haul...and for good reason. Nonetheless, she heaved forward, walking slower than normal.

  Everyone in the family was prepared to jump in and help pull the boar if it proved to be impossible for Krul to carry by herself. Her pace might’ve been a touch slower than usual, but it held steady, so we stayed on the sidelines. Besides, she looked like she was enjoying herself, though that might have been an illusion or a trick of the light.

  Lucy ran circles around Krul, barking all the while. “Arf, rawrf!” Go, Big Sis! It was a heartwarming sight.

  However, we didn’t have the time to be enthralled by the pair’s cuteness. We had to look out for Anne’s pursuers, of course, but besides that, we were literally hauling a massive portion of meat. In other words, wild beasts could be hiding in the shadows with their eyes glued on our prize. Bears and boars were major threats, and wolves could be menaces if a whole pack came at us. It was our job to make sure we didn’t overlook any signs of possible attackers.

  We spread out slightly and kept our guards up. This was our usual routine, so we didn’t need to exchange many words. Anne wasn’t sure what to do with herself though and stayed by my side. Helen took the rear. If anything happened, she would demonstrate just how she’d earned the nickname “Lightning Strike.”

  We got home later than normal, but safe. Next came the butchering, which usually required us to hoist the body up and hang it from a tree. Because of the boar’s considerable weight, the choice of branch was crucial. A thin one would snap in a second. However, even if we did manage to hang it, it was so big that I thought we might have trouble reaching the upper part of its body.

  In the end, we decided to keep it on the ground. We had Anne help out as well. Her knife might have been an entry-level model, but I could still guarantee its sharpness. Samya taught her how to skin the boar. Her movements were clumsy at first, but she slowly got used to the task. This was fine—since the boar was so large, it wasn’t a problem if some extra fat was cut off by accident.

  Krul, her work done, was drinking water like it was ambrosia. She and Lucy were relaxing together and watching us work. We labored the entire morning and finally finished a little after noon.

  “We really turned it into meat,” Anne commented, amazed. She’d just butchered her first animal.

  The boar had become familiar cuts of meat like ribs and tenderloin. It was probably fairly rare for nobles to see meat in its raw state.

  “This kind of work is integral to our livelihood here in the forest, so we make sure to pay respect to the animals we receive,” I explained. “Of course, the people in the city and capital butcher meat too, but the average person doesn’t have much of a chance to witness that process.”

  I tried to impress upon Anne the importance of this belief. However, in doing so, I slipped into full-on preachy ol’ geezer mode, which was a touch embarrassing. However, the opportunity to teach a princess didn’t come along very often.

  “I see...” Anne mused. Perhaps she had some reservations.

  In any case, it wasn’t as if I wanted her to preach our ethos back in the empire—I just felt that having even one person who understood this philosophy would lead to good things in the future.

  After the butchering was complete, we salted one half of the pork and dehydrated the other to preserve it. Of course, I’d already taken out a portion for today’s treat. A large portion. The yield from the hunt had been plentiful, but the number of big eaters in the house had also increased by one.

  Once we finished, Samya immediately yelled, “I’m starving!!!”

  “Watch your manners,” Rike chided.

  But everyone else was probably famished too. The question was only whether they’d say so out loud.

  My suspicions were confirmed when I said, “Hold on a little longer. I’m making us a feast today!”

  Samya shouted with joy, but so did Rike, who was beaming from ear to ear.

  “Thank you for your patience, ladies,” I said, lining up the dishes made from the freshly butchered pork.

  We’d moved the table out onto the terrace for the occasion—here, Krul could eat with us as well.

  The first dish was grilled pork seasoned with salt and pepper. The second was a yakiniku-style dish—thinly sliced pork paired with a soy sauce and berry glaze. The last dish was western-style (or here, it was simply the local style) where the pork was topped with a berry compote. I had prepared tenderloin, ribs, and sirloin for each dish, so everyone could sample the different flavors and cuts. Alongside the meat, I served a side of flatbread.

  For drinks, there was mint tea, but Rike happily poured herself a cup of brandy. Nothing wrong with that. It was too late in the day to do any work, so alcohol was permitted.

  Krul and Lucy were having unseasoned pork that I’d cooked and cooled.

  “Itadakimasu,” we chorused, our hands raised before us in prayer.

  We tucked in.

  “I’m sure you have your own likes and dislikes,” I said to Anne. “Feel free to eat whatever strikes your fancy.”

  Since soy sauce was a fermented food, it had a distinct stink. It also wasn’t readily available in this region, so people unused to it might be turned off. I thought of it almost like cilantro back on Earth—some people couldn’t eat it at first, and some people never warmed up to it no matter how much time passed. Anne had eaten soy-sauce-flavored food with no problem before, but the seasoning was slightly different today.

  “Don’t worry about me,” said Anne. She brought a slice of the yakiniku to her mouth with her fork and took a bite. Her eyes widened.

  “H-How is it...?” I asked nervously.

  What am I going to do if she says it’s completely inedible?

  “It’s delicious!” she exclaimed.

  She likes it! Thank goodness.

  She then added, “I bet it would go great with ale.”

  “That’s a popular combination.”

  There were two camps of people when it came to yakiniku: rice eaters and beer drinkers. Apparently, Anne was the latter. Unfortunately, we had neither beer nor ale in the house. We didn’t have rice either. There were grievances on all fronts, but at least it was an even playing field.

  I ate a slice of the salt and pepper pork. “The meat is plenty fatty even though the rainy season just ended.”

  “It’s not tough either,” Diana added.

  I’d heard that meat from large animals tended to be tough. Dense muscle, and lots of it, was needed to support such a large frame, and more muscle was needed to support those muscles...and so forth. Since food was scarce during the rains, I thought the boar would’ve shed some fat too, but that didn’t appear to be the case. I wonder...what do the boars in this forest usually eat?

  “This...soy sauce, did you call it? It’s good,” Anne said.

  “It’s widely produced in the north. We eat it practically every day. I’m sure the empire could secure a steady supply of it too.”

  Anne’s eyes glittered with excitement. “Oh, really?” She’d been wolfing down slices of yakiniku as if she was determined to finish it all herself.

  That was something worth considering—if the empire could either get their hands on a reliable supplier or start producing soy sauce themselves, I might be able to get it for cheaper. As a simple blacksmith, I had no plans to start up a business selling condiments, but if Anne were to sell them, it would be a big help...never mind who inspired her to do it.

  Afterward, I fielded all sorts of questions about northern seasonings and ingredients. Not only Anne seemed curious; everyone else had questions too.

  According to my installed data, natto (fermented soybeans) and umeboshi (pickled plum) were also available in this world. When I talked about it, Samya spoke up. “Natto has a funky smell...and those sticky bits of slime clinging to it. Isn’t it rotten?”

  “No, it’s not,” I answered.

  “But it smells like that because it’s rancid, right?” Rike asked. “Back at home, we had some beans go bad, and they looked just like natto.”

  “The beans in natto have...broken down in a sense...but not in a way that’s going to hurt your stomach. It’s good for you.”

  “Broken down? So you mean it’s rotten,” Helen insisted.

  “It’s not!” I insisted. “It’s like cheese.”

  “We eat cheese with some meals in the empire, but cheese has a more mild smell, you know?”

  Cheesemaking involves lactic fermentation by bacteria and coagulation by enzymes. However, even though it’s fermented, cheese doesn’t stink (other than washed-rind cheeses). Guess I picked the wrong example...

  I hesitated to explain the process more thoroughly—after all, bacteria hadn’t even been discovered in this world. Without that crucial piece of the puzzle, trying to clear up the difference between fermentation and spoilage was like pulling teeth. After all, the critical mechanism behind both processes was the same.

  It looked like serving natto in this house was going to be a dream within a dream...

  We finished dinner at a half-baked hour. There wasn’t enough time left in the day for work, but there was too much time for play. Even if I were to practice making armor, I had to heat the firebed, and by the time I finished preparing, there wouldn’t be much time to do anything.

  “Maybe I should get some exercise once in a while,” I murmured.

  My job as a blacksmith and my daily chores gave me plenty of opportunity to move around, but I didn’t participate in the hunts, nor did I join in the sparring—I’d yielded the trainer position to Helen.

  I wasn’t getting chunky around the middle per se...but I knew that getting exercise outside of work was an important part of staying healthy. Every year in my former world, my annual physical had come back with the same command: exercise. That was the stereotypical result for desk jockeys.

  So, I grabbed the wooden katana and headed outside.

  When Helen noticed me approaching, she called, “You’re gonna join us today, Eizo?”

  “Yeah. I’ll get rusty if I don’t practice once in a while.”

  I doubted my skills would be affected by a few sips of alcohol since I relied almost purely on my cheats when it came to combat. Nevertheless, whether I exercised regularly or not made a difference in a fight—a difference that was the most obvious at a dire moment. There was no harm in getting a bit of exercise. It was also an opportunity to take stock of my abilities.

 

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