[Claude POV]
"Embrace the heat, you cowards!" I roared, my voice cutting through the clang of hammers and the hiss of cooling metal. "What kind of smith fears the forge? Head toward the furnace—don't run from it!"
The beastmen smiths flinched but obeyed, their fur glistening with sweat as they returned to their anvils. Their ears flattened against their heads as I stalked between their workstations, inspecting their handiwork with a critical eye that missed nothing.
A fragment of memory flickered through my mind—another time, another place where I'd trained warriors too slowly, and they'd all died because of it. The memory wasn't fully formed, just a splinter from one of my other selves, but it fueled my rage nonetheless.
I grabbed a half-formed blade from the nearest apprentice, a young leopard-featured beastman whose hands trembled as I approached. "This edge is uneven. You're wasting good metal with sloppy work." I snapped the incomplete blade over my knee and threw the pieces back into the smelting pot. "Start again."
The apprentice nodded frantically, ears pressed flat against his skull. Yet beneath the fear, I caught something else in his eyes—gratitude. Admiration. It made my stomach turn.
They didn't understand that my cruelty wasn't care—it was desperation. Every weapon needed to be perfect. Every smith needed to work faster, better. The teleportation incident was coming, and when it did, those who survived would need arms. Arms I was responsible for providing.
I wiped sweat from my brow, trying to ignore the headache building behind my eyes. Another memory threatened to surface—overlapping images of beast warriors being slaughtered in a dozen different timelines because their weapons shattered at the wrong moment.
"Increase the carbon content," I barked, forcing the memory away. "These blades are too brittle."
The smiths hustled to obey, relief evident in their movements. They'd rather face my harsh instruction than return to being village outcasts. To them, my attention—however brutal—meant validation. Recognition. A place in the community that had previously shunned them.
Little did I know this power dynamic I was creating would one day rebound on me in ways I couldn't imagine.
[Rudeus POV]
Two weeks had passed, and the rain showed no signs of stopping.
During this time, I'd made an interesting discovery about the Dedoldia race—they possessed a unique form of magic. It involved manipulating sound: releasing howls to locate enemies and producing special frequencies that disrupted an opponent's balance. The magic Gyes had used to paralyze me during our first encounter was apparently one variation of this sound-based magic.
Naturally, I asked Gustav to teach me this technique. He agreed, demonstrating it several times while I attempted to imitate him. However, my efforts proved largely unsuccessful.
"It requires the special vocal cords of the Dedoldia race," Gustav explained, not unkindly. "Humans typically can't produce the necessary frequencies."
I had suspected as much, but the confirmation was still disappointing. Then I learned something that gave me pause—Claude had not only analyzed their sound magic but had successfully recreated it without Dedoldia vocal cords. He'd only stopped practicing because it damaged his throat.
Was he the true prodigy, or was I?
Claude continued to intrigue me. After completing the smithy—an impressive feat in itself, constructing a forge atop the massive trees where the village resided—he'd transitioned from merely beating the beast warriors into submission to teaching them smithing techniques with surprising patience. For all his cold exterior, he demonstrated remarkable skill as both craftsman and instructor.
With his expertise, Claude could easily establish a profitable smithy anywhere in the world. Yet here he was, training beastmen in a remote village cut off by seasonal floods. I couldn't help wondering what drove him.
Returning to my own training efforts, I continued experimenting with the Dedoldia sound magic. While I couldn't replicate their techniques fully, I did manage to combine my voice with magic power in a way that could momentarily surprise opponents. Not particularly useful, but a start.
When I demonstrated my voiceless incantation techniques to Gustav, his eyes widened with genuine surprise.
"Do magic schools teach those sorts of things these days?" he asked.
"It's because my teacher's instructions were excellent," I replied, feeling a surge of pride for Roxy.
"Where did this teacher originate from?"
"She's a Migurd from the Biegoya region of the Demon Continent," I explained. "She likely learned at the magic university."
I added that I planned to eventually attend the magic university myself, which seemed to impress Gustav.
"You can already do this much, yet still strive for more," he remarked admiringly.
When I mentioned Claude's ability to use beast race magic, Gustav didn't seem particularly surprised—which itself was surprising.
"He might look human to you," Gustav said with a shrug, "but he's a beast inside. His regeneration alone rivals the demons of the Demon Continent."
"What do you mean by that?" I asked, intrigued.
"I heard stories from the elders when I was younger. The Demon Lords in the Demon Continent can do almost anything—regenerate half their bodies in an instant. Only they possess such capabilities." Gustav gave me a knowing look. "So it's not strange for someone like him to master our techniques."
I thought about the Demon Lord I'd encountered—the one who'd given me my demon eye. Was Claude somehow connected to such beings? The more I learned about him, the more questions I had.
A month passed, and the village faced a new threat—monsters.
Water spider-like creatures would suddenly leap from the surface of the floodwaters to attack. Sea serpents slithered up the massive trees supporting the village. Both provided valuable materials when slain, but posed serious dangers to the villagers.
The village warriors attempted to protect everyone, but their usually reliable senses—their keen smell and sonar-like abilities—proved less effective in the heavy rain. Monsters frequently evaded the guards and appeared within the village itself.
One afternoon, while walking with Eris, we witnessed a chameleon-like creature snatch a beast-race child right before our eyes. I reacted instantly, blasting the monster away with an earth bullet.
The child, safely freed, cutely wagged its tail in gratitude. Beside me, Eris began breathing heavily through her nose—a sure sign she was moved by the sight of the rescued child. I gently stroked her back to calm her down, and the child watched us with a smile.
I reported the incident to Ruijerd, whose expression immediately darkened. His protector instincts wouldn't allow him to ignore a situation where children might be in danger. However, when he offered assistance, the village guards initially rejected it.
"The warriors of this village have their pride in protecting our people," Ruijerd explained to me later. According to him, it was the duty and honor of the village warriors to protect their own. They wouldn't typically request help from outsiders, nor welcome interference.
Claude, for his part, merely shrugged off the situation. "Not my problem," he said before returning to train his beastmen smiths, who had begun crafting increasingly sophisticated weapons under his harsh tutelage.
"Isn't the safety of the children more important than pride?" I asked Ruijerd.
After considering this for a moment, Ruijerd approached Gyes to discuss the matter.
"Master Ruijerd, would you like to offer help?" Gyes welcomed him warmly, clearly still impressed by Ruijerd's strength and reputation. As it happened, Gyes had participated in the initial attack on our ship when we first arrived.
A compromise was reached: we would help exterminate monsters appearing around the village, and the corpses would be brought to Claude to create more weapons. Ruijerd would locate the threats, I would defeat them with magic, and we'd recover the bodies for materials. Gyes would then purchase these materials from us—a mutually beneficial arrangement.
Initially, as Ruijerd had warned, the village warriors didn't seem pleased with our involvement. However, as the monster casualties decreased and it became clear there would be no victims this rainy season, they gradually accepted our help.
Claude, however, seemed annoyed. "I wasted time training these warriors just to watch them hand over their responsibilities to outsiders," he muttered one evening. "I thought the beast race had more pride."
Ruijerd, surprisingly, appeared troubled by this as well. "Several hundred years ago, the beast races were different," he told me quietly, a distant look in his eyes.
A month and a half into our stay, I began to imagine the rain was weakening, though it was likely wishful thinking.
During this time, Eris had formed a friendship with two beast children—Tona and Terusena. Despite the language barrier, they got along remarkably well, wandering around the village together and clearly enjoying each other's company.
To my surprise, I discovered Eris was teaching them the human language. Eris—teaching someone else! I decided not to interfere and risk undermining her newfound role. Instead, I observed from a distance, feeling oddly proud of her social development.
Eris had never had friends her own age before. Watching her with the two beast children—her red hair alongside their cat and dog ears—filled me with a strange warmth. Though I did wish she wouldn't cling to them quite so enthusiastically; someone might misunderstand her intentions.
As I watched from my hiding spot inside a wooden box, I noticed Gyes observing them as well.
"Eris-dono, thank you very much for getting along so well with my daughter," he said warmly.
I was stunned by his positive reaction, so different from his suspicion toward me. Apparently, the rules were different for girls.
"By the way," Gyes continued, "I'm sorry about the situation with Ghislaine. We haven't met in quite a long time, so there was some misunderstanding. It seems that little sister has grown up quite a bit since leaving home."
He had been making similar apologies throughout the month. It was good to see him acknowledging his error.
"That's right! It's Sword King Ghislaine, after all!" Eris replied proudly. "The current Ghislaine can even use magic, you know."
"Hahaha. Ghislaine can use magic?" Gyes laughed. "Lady Eris, your jokes are too good."
"It's true! Ghislaine taught herself letters, math, and magic! Master Rudeus taught her!"
What followed was an enthusiastic recounting of my teaching methods and accomplishments in the Fittoa region—how both Eris and Ghislaine had struggled initially but improved under my instruction. Eris spoke with such respect that I felt myself blushing in my hiding place.
After his conversation with Eris ended and the girls moved on, Gyes approached my wooden box.
"What is that respectable teacher doing in this place?" he asked, peering down at me.
"My... hobby is observing people," I answered lamely.
"Ho, that is quite a noble hobby. Incidentally, how did you manage to teach Ghislaine letters?"
"Nothing special, just normal teaching methods."
"Normally? I can't even imagine it."
"It seems she was troubled by her lack of knowledge during her adventurer days," I explained. "It's probably natural for you to be unable to imagine it."
"I see. Even though that younger sister used to be the type who wouldn't stop beating people up whenever something she didn't like happened..."
As Gyes spoke, I learned that Ghislaine had once been much like Eris—quick to fight and difficult to control due to her superior strength. Apparently, Gyes had been forced to drink boiling water several times as punishment.
This revelation made me think of my own siblings. I was an older brother too—to Norn and Aisha. I wondered how they were doing. I made a mental note to write a letter once the rain ended and we could travel to the Holy Milis Kingdom's capital.
Then I remembered that Buena village had been destroyed in the teleportation incident. The thought dampened my mood considerably.
"By the way, Rudeus-dono," Gyes interrupted my thoughts.
"Yes?"
"How long are you intending to remain inside that wooden box?"
Until they start changing clothes, of course. It was almost night, and they would likely begin bathing and changing into their sleepwear soon.
"Sunsun... I smell the scent of arousal," Gyes noted, his nose twitching.
"Eeh! No, that can't be," I protested. "Perhaps some beast-loving girl is making a happy face somewhere?"
Gyes's expression hardened. "Rudeus-dono, I'm grateful for your help previously, and I apologize for our misunderstanding. However," his voice lowered dangerously, "if you put your hands on my daughter, the situation becomes different. If you don't move away right now, I'll throw the box with you in it into the water."
The deadly seriousness in his voice convinced me immediately. I vacated the box with remarkable speed.
"I protect this village," Gyes said firmly. "I don't want to say this, but... go easy on the voyeurism."
"Understood," I replied quickly.
I'd gone too far again. Time for some self-reflection.
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