Hero Anna. Even though he hadn’t seen her face well, the one who appeared in the mana glow at the time of escape was surprisingly beautiful.
But that face was, of course, that of a woman he didn’t know.
He still wasn’t sure if she was really the Hero. Her strength was so overwhelming that her credibility was high.
And the most important thing was that she hated him.
She herself said he had abandoned her in her previous life.
At the time, I really had no memory of it at all.
Thinking about it calmly, there were some things that might have triggered it.
By now three days had passed.
He had had plenty of time to think while walking.
First, he had roughly guessed the period.
Because of the darkness, it was hard to see, but from the face he had seen during the emergency escape, he could roughly estimate her age.
Well-proportioned features. Gray hair and blue eyes. Not particularly tall.
Her age was probably somewhere in her late teens. Clock was turning thirty this year, but he had no memory of abandoning a girl of that age.
She was such a beautiful flower. If he had arranged anything with her, he would have remembered.
If it was something from long ago that he had completely forgotten, that would mean about ten years ago. But then how old was she at the time? He was talking about abandoning a child of what age? Unfortunately, he didn’t have that kind of hobby.
In that case, he had to assume the "reincarnation" she mentioned.
It was only an assumption.
If he died and was immediately reborn, his previous life probably wasn’t more than ten to fifteen years ago, right? Anything older wasn’t possible, and around that time he would remember being fond of women.
He had lived roughly from a young age.
Honestly, he thought he had hit on many women.
If he was told he was abandoned, he had some people he couldn’t deny.
But when it came to being called dead... honestly, he didn’t understand that.
He might have had a bad sense of women, but he had no memory of doing anything that drove them to death.
...Stop saying things like "I jumped off because I didn’t know."
The sun was setting, and the sky began to turn red.
He passed through the animal trail, confirmed his surroundings, and entered the mountain road.
Continuing straight ahead, he arrived at a remote village that seemed a hundred years behind the capital in era.
He had come here quite a while ago.
Nothing had changed.
Old wooden houses lined up, mixed here and there with decayed ruins.
The village gate was so weathered that it was hard to tell how many years had passed.
This village hidden in the mountains had developed very slowly because there was no trade at all.
It was a place where it wouldn’t be strange if it became a deserted village at any time.
No, it was possible it had already become one.
People to search for food...
Ah, damn. He couldn’t relax yet.
As soon as he arrived in the village, a strong drowsiness attacked him.
Because he had entered a place with people, somewhere in his heart he felt a sense of security. He hadn’t actually escaped his pursuers, yet it was too early to feel human warmth.
But with three days and nights of continuous movement, his accumulated fatigue had reached its limit. His body was demanding rest.
This is no good. I can’t endure it.
Secure food was important, but he had to rest for now.
He couldn’t think about anything else. If he closed his eyes, he would fall asleep.
He saw a ruined house and stealthily entered.
Part of the wall was missing, and there was no sign of anyone living inside.
Plank walls and a roof full of holes. Probably it hadn’t been used for many years. A completely abandoned ruin.
He lay down on the floor almost level with the ground.
Rest. He wanted to rest. He was too sleepy, and nothing mattered anymore.
When he decided to think about everything later, he immediately let go of his consciousness.
He woke up with a start.
He had only intended to sleep a little, but he had fallen deeply asleep.
The surroundings were pitch black, as expected.
He didn’t know how much time had passed since sunset.
His stomach was too empty and he was in trouble.
Soon he would die without something to eat.
He had been planning to say he dropped his luggage while being chased by a magical beast and ask the villagers for food. But at this hour, any visitor was suspicious. First, he probably couldn’t even open the door. On top of that, from the surrounding silence, the villagers were probably all asleep.
He had fallen asleep until an awkward time.
Thanks to that, he understood he was in quite a difficult situation.
If he calmly and peacefully solved things, it would be better to wait until sunrise. But the hunger was bringing urgency, and the impulse to move immediately was also there.
Anxiety was piling up in this unsolvable situation, and he couldn’t organize his thoughts well.
Suddenly, he felt a faint breath from right beside him.
"......Ah? Who is it?"
When had she been there?
He turned around and saw a shadow sitting in the corner of the room in a triangular pose.
A dilapidated shack.
Moonlight shining through the gaps illuminated the long hair of the shadow.
Was it a girl? She looked quite small in build.
Her face was hidden, but she was staring fixedly at Clock.
"...Ah, this was your house? Sorry, I borrowed it for a bit."
Her hair swayed.
She was shaking her head back and forth.
Was it good, bad, or something else?
He couldn’t tell if she was only shaking her head.
"Who are you? What’s your name?"
"......"
The shadow that looked like a girl shook her head again.
She shook her head when asked her name. Did she not want to say it? Why didn’t she say it with words?
It looked meaningless at first glance, but Clock immediately thought of possibilities based on experience.
"You can’t speak?"
The shadow nodded.
Apparently, for some reason, she couldn’t speak at all.
Mental reasons. Physical injury. Born shackles. Magic. Contracts.
There were several possibilities, but he wasn’t particularly interested, so he decided to ignore it.
The shadow tilted her head.
That small gesture somehow gave off a very young atmosphere.
Living in a shack like this... was she a runaway?
For a moment he thought she had been suffering since young, but he noticed that the moonlight was reflecting someone else’s possession on her shoulder.
"...Is she a slave? Is it okay for a slave to be here? Or is this your house?"
She nodded again.
So she was living here.
How slaves were treated varied greatly from person to person, but in this case she seemed to be in the abused category. This wasn’t a house people lived in. If a proper bed wasn’t provided, humans would quickly become useless. It was a failure in the use of human resources.
That aside, he had obtained fairly good information.
Clock raised one eyebrow.
"Where is your owner?"
When he asked, the slave pointed to the front of the shack.
There was a two-story, poor-looking wooden house.
It didn’t look like a rich enough house to buy a slave.
Compared to the surrounding rundown houses, it wasn’t that different.
But since she had the fact, she probably had some degree of leeway. Maybe she just didn’t care about the house.
As someone on the run, he needed various things.
He would ask for a little help.
He stood up, cracking his neck as he prepared to work.
Then something was quietly handed to him from beside. A container carved from wood. Water was inside.
It was touching, or rather too pitiful.
Well, if he was giving it, he would accept it.
For some reason he was being taken care of.
He received the container and drank the contents in one go.
It tasted like wood being gnawed.
No, it was just the smell of wood from the container. Water had no taste.
Maybe birch or cedar. He had no knowledge of such things, and it wasn’t a container meant to be put in the mouth.
He stood up and checked his own condition.
He didn’t feel dizzy. He had forced himself to move, but he wasn’t in poor health. He was just strongly hungry and had a heavy feeling, but that was still manageable.
No other abnormalities.
His stamina was shaky, but he could probably handle a weak human’s condition.
He was carrying his weapon. His partner that had been with him through thick and thin, and his trump-card skill.
Business as usual. He would rely on luck and judgment from here.
──Okay, let’s go.