That night, a rare family feast was underway in our yard.
“Now, everyone, raise your cups.”
Grandfather, the head of the family, said as he stood up.
Then the rest of the family rose all at once, too.
Seventeen of them in all.
We were a big family with three generations living together, and under Father, the eldest son, there were five more uncles.
Except for my youngest uncle, the rest had each started families of their own and were diligently having kids.
So it was only natural that the family headcount was considerable.
And this was with my aunts married off. There used to be even more.
“Our eldest grandson, Lark, became Rat Captain today! At the age of eight!”
Grandfather, shouting loud enough to ring through the air, was only in his mid-forties.
Not as much as Father, but he had a massive frame.
Red hair and a red beard thickly framed his face, and it was like looking at the mane of a red lion.
“Huh? Lark. Hasn't it been less than a week since you started hunting rats?”
“Brother. Didn't you hear the news? Apparently, our nephew knocked down Thomas, the eldest son from the house way up top, in a single blow.”
“Yeah. The whole manor's buzzing about it right now. The birth of the youngest Rat Captain ever.”
“I knew Lark was impressively big, but I didn't think it was to that extent.”
“Wow. I hope my son grows up like Lark.”
The uncles made a big fuss.
It was understandable, since the position of Rat Captain was special to our family.
Because those with Rat Captain experience got preferential hiring when gamekeepers were selected.
THWACK! THWACK!
Suddenly, I felt pain in my left shoulder.
Startled, I turned to see Father pounding my shoulder, with a look like he had the whole world in his hands.
“Lark! I knew it! I knew it! I knew it! You're the son of Jade the Giant. Hahahaha!”
Just as my shoulder's durability reached a critical point, Grandfather saved me right on time.
“Now, that is enough. Everyone, cheers!”
At Grandfather's command, the whole family clinked their cups together.
Grandfather drained his cup in one go and said in high spirits,
“Lark. You are the pride of our house!”
Grandfather was emphasizing the house.
Father and my uncles shared this verbal habit.
It didn't suit a serf family.
“Kyah…! That's our Lark. I saw long ago that you were an extraordinary kid.”
The oldest of my uncles, sitting across from me, said as he clapped his hands.
Starting with that, the family elders began going over my achievements.
“Of course, Brother. The kid who started talking at just two and learned his letters at three is none other than that Lark.”
“I hear he's already mastered the Empire's history, too?”
“Hah…. No matter how many times I hear the imperial chronology, it never goes into my head. Impressive. Truly impressive.”
It was only natural conduct for an otherworld reincarnator, yet the family elders made a big fuss.
And even within that fuss, there was something un-serf-like about our family.
Namely, that serfs were teaching their children letters and history.
It was something that made no sense by an Earthling's common sense.
I wondered if maybe the culture was just different because this was another world, but checking only the neighbors around us made it clear.
Clearly, only our family was strange.
Serfs who emphasized their house and taught their children letters and history?
As someone who'd been exposed to all sorts of creative works, only one guess came to mind.
But things like the family's past were, after all, the grown-ups' domain.
Since it could be a sensitive issue, I hadn't bothered to open my mouth about it until now.
But living in the medieval era, when family and status mattered, I couldn't go on merely guessing about the house's past forever.
And as it happened, the mood was unusually good today, so….
It could be called the perfect moment to cross a sensitive line.
“Grandfather.”
I quietly called to Grandfather, who was sitting next to me.
Grandfather gulped down his beer and looked at me with only his eyes.
A look telling me he was listening, so I should speak.
Without holding back, I thrust the words in.
“Is our house, by any chance…. descended from nobility?”
Actually, there was one more basis for this guess.
The state of my family's talents.
Every one of them had been born with the [Command] talent, and its grade was B or above for all of them, too.
Not a mutant talent possessed by only one member, but a hereditary talent bestowed uniformly upon the whole house.
Then hadn't our house stood in a position of commanding others for generations?
“Kuh! Kuhk. Lark… you.”
Grandfather coughed as if the beer he'd been drinking had gone down the wrong way, and glared at me.
Judging by the reaction, my guess seemed to be right.
The atmosphere, which had been warm and friendly until a moment ago, froze.
The grown-ups' gazes pierced into me.
What? Shouldn't I have asked?
Father, beside me, also turned grave.
“Jade. Bring Lark to my room.”
At Grandfather's order, Father hoisted me up.
Not daring to refuse, I meekly submitted to his hands.
As I was carried off to Grandfather's room, I looked at Mother.
A young blonde woman.
Looking at me quietly, she mouthed to me that it was all right.
Hm, that's reassuring.
So I didn't make some huge mistake?
***
Stride— Stride—
Grandfather and Father were both huge men.
Their strides were very wide.
In no time, we arrived at Grandfather's room.
Thud.
The door shut with a sound much like my heart was making.
Grandfather sat on the edge of the bed and asked with grave eyes,
“Lark. Where did you hear that?”
An intimidating aura from Grandfather that I was feeling for the first time in my life.
His bold yet kind demeanor had vanished without a trace.
I gulped down a drop of saliva and opened my mouth.
“Um…. I didn't hear it from anywhere. It just seems like the family elders keep emphasizing the house. Kind of like… nobles do.”
“Is that your only argument?”
I did have more grounds, but I decided to hide anything about my eyes that see talents.
This was the medieval era.
A world overrun with heresy inquisitors, no less.
If I blabbed about an ability of unknown origin, there was a risk that not only I, but even my family, would be branded devil worshippers.
Say I took that risk anyway and told the truth.
Would my family even believe me?
That was anyone's guess.
Well, even if I somehow managed to make them understand this ability, there was nothing for me to gain right now.
Rather than inviting danger and trouble by running my mouth for nothing, I decided to choose my words carefully.
“Um… Unlike other serfs, our family teaches kids letters and history, right? So I thought about it.”
“Thought about what?”
I stopped darting my eyes around and looked Grandfather straight in the eye.
Because I had a certain conviction.
Writing is a tool for keeping records and the foundation of learning.
History is the study of the recorded past.
So the reason the descendants of fallen nobility wouldn't give up letters and history was obvious.
“Our house has a past it must not forget.”
Grandfather's and Father's eyes widened.
Gaining more confidence from this, I continued.
“And if there's a house among serf families with that kind of past, it's likely descended from fallen nobility…. That's what I thought.”
Silence continued for a while.
Could it be that right now, I'm…. seriously mistaken about something? No way?
Clap! Clap! Clap!
Applause came from behind me.
It was Father.
“I knew it! I knew it! Seeing how smart you are, you're the son of Jade the Giant after all! Hahaha!”
Then Grandfather looked at Father with fresh exasperation.
“Ugh. He is this bright precisely because he did not take after you. If anything, perhaps he takes after me, Hepatikan the Strongman.”
As if he couldn't hear Grandfather's rebuttal, Father kept delightedly pounding my back for a while.
Just as my spine was about to suffer permanent damage, Grandfather saved me again this time.
“Lark. It seems I must show you this.”
Grandfather got up from his seat and tried to lift the bed with one hand.
Then Father startled.
“Father! You're going to tell Lark about that already? Lark isn't even an adult yet….”
“Enough. Lark is smarter and more mature than you, a grown man.”
“Hm…. That's true! Hahaha!”
As befitting someone on his second run at life, I'd been showing off maturity beyond my years all this time.
Of course, while staying within limits so I wouldn't get witch-hunted.
Thus, the family elders didn't treat me as just a child, and as a result, Grandfather was about to tell me something earlier than planned.
“Better that you know it properly than half-know it.”
Muttering that, Grandfather heaved the bed up with all his strength.
Creeeak—
He'd definitely lifted a bed, yet I heard the sound of hinges.
And soon, beneath the bed, a deeply dug-out space revealed itself.
Inside were various odds and ends.
If I had to pick out the unusual ones, there was a flag, a bundle of parchment, and a mysterious lump of scrap metal.
“Grandfather. What's that?”
When I pointed at the scrap metal and asked, Grandfather took the lump out of the bed and said,
“Watch closely.”
Grandfather laid the rusted pieces of iron out on the floor and fitted them together this way and that.
They gradually began to take the shape of a bow.
“Do you know what this is?!”
One of the most impressive weapons I'd come across while studying this world's history.
“Could it be… a Steel Longbow?”
Even an ordinary wooden longbow couldn't be used by anyone short of a considerable strongman, but lo and behold? This was a longbow made of steel.
Of course, what's used to make the bow limbs isn't ordinary metal, but steel whose elasticity has been pushed to the limit with a special blend, or so they say.
Even so, it was a weapon considered impossible to even draw without mana-based physical enhancement.
That was the Steel Longbow.
Why was Grandfather suddenly showing me a broken Steel Longbow?
“…!”
In that instant, an ominous guess flashed through my mind.
Because the name of the house that had once monopolized the method of making Steel Longbows and roared its commands across the continent came to mind.
“Could it be…. that our house… was Repaire?”
At my question, Grandfather slowly nodded.
But his face looked quite complicated.
Proud, yet bitter.
“Indeed. We are Repaire. The house that once held the strongest Steel Longbow Knight Order on the continent… a fallen ducal house.”
I'd heard it again and again.
The illustrious fame of the Steel Longbow, said to have smashed even the shields and armor of knights clad in aura.
And the infamy of being the house that brought ruin to a nation.
That fame and that infamy.
It seemed I was destined to shoulder them all.
Because, given the circumstances, I was….
“Lark. You are the one who will become the 15th head of Repaire.”
Grandfather declared.
Ah, this is troublesome. Really.
An unwelcome label had been slapped on me.
At present, Repaire was an object of ridicule and contempt.
A house of cowards who did nothing but shoot arrows.
A house of braggarts who boasted of friendship with the legendary dwarves.
A house that ruined a nation with that bragging.
And even this, I'd only heard secondhand from the family elders.
So the world's assessment might be even harsher.
Had he read my thoughts from my expression?
Grandfather said in a firm tone,
“I will tell you this in advance: dwarves are real.”
To the humans of this world, dwarves were nothing more than beings of legend.
A mysterious race from folklore, short folk with exceptionally skilled hands said to live beyond the Mountains of Death, the domain of the undead.
“If I told you that as a child, I saw the dwarves and their king with my own two eyes, would you believe me?”
Of course I believe it.
It's another world, so of course there'd be dwarves, and elves, and dragons too.
So, with eyes that didn't waver in the slightest, I answered.
“Of course I believe you. It's not like you're the type to lie, Grandfather….”
“Yes! I knew you would say that! Ahem!”
The look of trust his grandson gave him.
Thanks to it, Grandfather's expression brightened a little.
But at my next question, Grandfather's expression hardened again.
“Please tell me, Grandfather. Why didn't the dwarves show up that day?”
At my question, Grandfather steadied his breath a few times, then began telling the story of the past he'd kept buried deep in his heart.
“Thirty-seven years ago. In other words, when I was about your age….”
According to Grandfather, the ducal house of Repaire had been a meritorious vassal house of the Kingdom of Zant.
But one day, the Kingdom of Zant was hit by a joint assault from the neighboring kingdoms.
When the kingdom stood at the crossroads between survival and ruin, the Duke of Repaire at the time petitioned the King of Zant.
That the dwarven race owed House Repaire a debt, so as long as he asked, the dwarves would readily dispatch the Thunderbird Legion.
Upon hearing that, the king rejoiced greatly and was relieved, believing a way for his kingdom to survive had now opened.
But on the promised day, the dwarves did not appear.
Because of that, the Kingdom of Zant, the Repaire ducal territory included, suffered a near-annihilating blow, and the King of Zant, seething with rage, purged every last member of House Repaire.
Except for just one person.
The sole survivor of the purge, who'd been seven years old at the time.
Grandfather said in a quiet tone,
“Why the dwarves did not appear. The reason…. I do not know either. Someday, should one of my descendants manage to shed the status of the unfree, I would ask this of them.”
Grandfather's red eyes blazed.
Chewing down his anger, he went on.
“To find the dwarves and ask them why they betrayed Repaire, why they brought such tragedy upon our house. And to punish them.”
It seemed Grandfather was angrier at the dwarves than at the King of Zant.
And that made sense. Not long after the purge of Repaire, the Kingdom of Zant fell, and the king had his head cut off on the guillotine.
Even if Grandfather wanted to hate him, the target of his hatred was gone.
So all of Grandfather's anger, with nowhere left to go, was aimed at the dwarves.
“Now, look here, Lark.”
Grandfather went back to the bed and picked up the flag.
On faded white cloth, I saw the house crest, a red lion roaring.
“Engrave this crest on your heart. And pass it on to your son.”
Then Grandfather rummaged in the corner of the bed again and soon took out an old wooden box.
The lid opened, revealing valuables.
Those were probably….
Items received as a kind of tip for assisting the lord and the surrounding nobles with their hunts.
“This is the fortune our family has gathered while serving as gamekeepers. To buy free status…. it is still far from enough. But by the generation of your son's son, it may become possible.”
So this was it.
The real reason the grown-ups wanted me to live as a gamekeeper.
But what should we do about this, Grandfather?
I happen to be far, far more capable than you think.
“No, Grandfather. We don't need to wait until my son.”
Grandfather and Father looked at me with expressions full of questions.
Faces wondering what nonsense this kid was spouting this time.
Paying no mind, I went on.
“If things go well, I think I might be able to become a spirit summoner. Could you help me out a little?”
Actually, I'd planned to take it a bit slowly.
If I kept steadily building my reputation as Rat Captain like this, someday they'd call me to places related to salt too, right? With that in mind, I'd planned to wait for years if I had to.
I was still only eight.
I had plenty of time.
But I'd learned that the fortune saved up at home was considerable, and that the grown-ups weren't satisfied with the status of gamekeeper either.
That's right.
They, too, were burning with ambition to rise in status, just like me.
In that case, I could take a shortcut.
If there was a fast route, there was no need to go the long way around.
“The salt mine or the salt warehouse. Would bribing… the managers there be possible?”
A shocking statement.
Grandfather and Father.
The faces of father and son were dyed with astonishment.