Monsters were entirely different beings from ordinary animals, plants, and humans.
There were many differences, but the greatest was probably the way their bodies reacted to magical elements and miasma.
Humans, animals, and plants produced mana from magical elements, then created miasma as residue when they used magic or magic arts. Monsters, on the other hand, extracted nutrients from miasma and accumulated the waste inside their bodies as magic stones—crystals containing large quantities of magical elements. What one took in and what the other discarded were exact opposites, making their relationship like two sides of the same coin.
Reproductive methods varied between monster species.
Goblins, for example, were aquatic egg-laying monsters. After mating, the female deposited her eggs in filthy water. Within about a day, the goblins grew from tadpoles into adults, formed groups, and attacked humans.
Among monsters, goblins in particular were treated like harmful pests with no redeeming value.
“Hehehe. Yet this village uses those goblins for food. How fascinating.”
“Y-Yes. But it isn’t delicious enough to be worthy of serving you, my lady… Our ancestors devised it as a desperate measure to fill their stomachs in this poor village.”
“Then I insist you tell me the details.”
We had come to this village as part of the Winter Tour.
While the family members unloaded winter provisions from the carriages, Resina had caught an elderly village woman and started asking her questions. I’d been curious too. A large number of villagers were skinning goblins, and I’d wondered what they were doing.
“Eating goblin meat as it is will upset your stomach, but—”
The woman began explaining the preparation process in meticulous detail.
First, they removed the hide, which couldn’t be made edible by any method. They butchered what remained and separated the meat, bones, and intestines. The meat was cut finely, ground into paste, and dried in the sun. The bones were thoroughly roasted, crushed, and dissolved in water. Then the ground meat, bone water, salt, garlic, and other ingredients were kneaded together, stuffed into the intestines, and smoked.
“—And that is how we make this goblin sausage.”
“I see. May I have one?”
“Y-Yes, but the flavor truly is…”
Resina was the sort of person who took an interest in many things and tried them for herself. And naturally, whenever she put something in her mouth, my role as food taster activated automatically. Lucky me.
One of the family members thoughtfully prepared a table, and Resina and I sat down together.
The goblin sausage landed on the table with a thud. It was as thick as a child’s arm, so a village man brought a knife and cut it into thin slices. He trembled violently beneath Resina’s mana, but somehow finished the entire job. You did well. Thank you.
I took one bite of a thin slice from the plate—or pretended to, while isolating it in my subspace. The usual procedure.
The composition-analysis magic tool found no poison in it. Bracing myself, I transferred it from the subspace into my mouth and chewed slowly. I see.
This was… If I had to describe it, it was like extremely smelly fish cake. I didn’t dislike its firm, springy texture, but its taste was like a mixture of kitchen waste and vomit. It wasn’t something I’d actively want to eat. One slice was enough for a lifetime.
“Crow?”
“Yeah. It isn’t poisonous, so it’s safe for you to eat. I won’t comment on the flavor because I don’t want to prejudice your opinion… but everything in life is an experience, isn’t it?”
“So that’s the kind of food it is. Then I’ll try it at once.”
Resina eagerly put the goblin sausage into her mouth, chewed for a while, and swallowed. She didn’t spit it out and even looked slightly amused. Had she unexpectedly enjoyed it?
“…That was a valuable life experience.”
“I understand. Why don’t we let the remaining sausage become a life experience for the family members?”
“Let’s.”
And so, everyone in the Cineraria party, beginning with Resina, accumulated life experience that day. They came to understand that no matter how cleverly one made it edible, goblin still stank. Penne trembled with tears in her eyes, but somehow swallowed without spitting it out. Well done.
The goblin sausage that remained even after that was carefully stored in my subspace. It was precious food filled with the village’s accumulated wisdom, so wasting it was out of the question. What was I going to do with it?
Leaving the city made me realize how difficult it was simply to survive. The seasons had a far greater impact than I’d imagined, and people had no choice but to devise ways of making do with whatever food was available at the time. On top of that, the nobles took forty percent of the agricultural produce they worked so hard to grow as tax.
No one sentimental enough to spare livestock could survive the winter. People made their own furniture and clothing, and sometimes even ate monsters. Whether that meant relying on yakuza or something else, surviving here demanded the toughness to use anything available.
“I wanted to live an easy slow life by myself in this sort of place… but life never goes the way you want.”
While the family members unloaded the winter provisions, I walked alone to the fountain at the center of the village.
Something had bothered me since we arrived… and unfortunately, my suspicion was correct. My bad feeling had come true.
“The purification barrier’s core is falling apart… There’s no sign that anyone deliberately damaged it. The corrosion is severe, so perhaps it’s simply old age. This is going to be troublesome.”
Purification barriers were essential for humans to establish settlements.
Monsters survived by absorbing miasma, so they generally avoided places where its concentration was low. That was why every inhabited location, from large cities to tiny villages, installed a fountain-shaped magic tool called a purification barrier to keep miasma away.
Unfortunately, the core component of a purification barrier was consumable.
The first thing I’d noticed after entering the village was that its miasma concentration was higher than elsewhere. I grew suspicious and inspected the equipment. Sure enough, the village’s purification-barrier core was crumbling. It was a wonder the device still functioned.
Worse, a religious organization known as the Spirit Temple held complete control over installing and maintaining these barriers. In other words, powerful religious interests were involved. If someone who wasn’t a priest repaired one without permission, troublesome people would take notice. What a problem.
Hmm… For now, I needed to consult Resina. Once I knew about the damage, I couldn’t simply leave it alone.
◆ ◆ ◆
After night had fully fallen, Resina and I visited the village chief’s home for a private discussion. Our subject was, of course, what to do about the nearly broken purification-barrier core.
“Crow, let’s begin with the most basic question. Are you saying that you possess the knowledge and skill to repair a purification barrier?”
Resina looked rather surprised, but I didn’t think it would be especially difficult for an alchemist.
My goal was a slow life on the frontier, after all. I wouldn’t appreciate monsters interrupting me while I relaxed at my base. Securing your base was one of the most fundamental principles of any crafting game.
I remembered that studying them had been fairly simple. Examples of purification barriers had been installed throughout the city. I only needed to analyze them in my own way until I could reproduce the same device.
“I understand every one of its functions. Put simply, it’s only a magic tool. The core basically absorbs minute amounts of mana from sunlight and flowing water, then pushes miasma away from the surrounding area. Actually, ‘purification’ may not be the right word. It doesn’t cleanse the miasma itself. It truly does nothing but move it somewhere else.”
“Crow, purification barriers are called miracles of the gods because even famous alchemists have failed to decipher their workings. The intricate, interwoven spell circuits are supposedly impossible to reproduce with current technology, so replacement cores can be manufactured only with the temple’s special equipment.”
“Either those alchemists were incompetent, or they decided not to confront the temple openly. Making enemies of religious people is troublesome… They only believe the explanations they already want to believe.”
Naturally, I didn’t mean to reject all religion. But a cult had been one of the factors that led to my biological mother beating me to death in my previous life… So personally, I couldn’t help wanting to keep my distance from such things. You could call it a minor trauma.
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that last remark… In any case, we can assume that you’re capable of restoring the purification barrier?”
“Rather than repairing it, I have several homemade cores on hand, so I’d replace it with a new one. Do you want me to show you?”
“Give me a moment to think.”
Resina uncharacteristically held her head in her hands, while the elderly village chief froze with wide eyes… But I didn’t think it was that astonishing. Any ordinary alchemist could probably make one if they truly tried. Probably. I’d never checked.
“Lady Resina, who exactly is this gentleman…?”
“Crow is my fiancé and the leading candidate for next underboss. He’s an alchemist skilled enough to treat even a complicated combination of magical poisons. He is so capable that both the boss and chief administrator support him, but unfortunately, he has absolutely no awareness of it himself.”
“I-I see. A candidate for next underboss…”
Wait, wait. Could you please stop telling outrageous lies mixed with your own wishes? Especially the part about being your fiancé. This was astonishing. There were so many points to dispute that I no longer knew where to begin. For now, I thought using the old village chief to surround me and block my escape routes was wrong.
“All right… Crow, let me confirm one thing. Normally, when a purification barrier is renewed, priests perform a ritual that takes an entire day. Are you saying none of that is necessary either?”
“Of course not. The only work involved is disabling the anti-theft alarm at the beginning and supplying a little mana the first time the new core starts. It takes only a few seconds. Even if some problem delayed me, it couldn’t require more than a few minutes… If anything, I’d like to know what the priests do for an entire day.”
When I tilted my head, Resina curled her lips into her usual grin.
“Then there’s only one answer.”
Oh. As expected of Resina, she made decisions quickly.
“We’ll secretly replace it and pretend we know nothing. Village chief, you didn’t hear this conversation either.”
Yes. The fact that Resina never hesitated to break the law in pursuit of her objective reminded me that she truly was a yakuza.
Then again, if I had to choose, I was probably that kind of person too.