A Maiden’s Unwanted Heroic Epic

Chapter 3: U.E. C.3: Bandits

Chapter 3: U.E. C.3: Bandits

In the meadow outside the village, logs have been hammered into the ground and wrapped with cloth for training. Around them were a couple of youths and men.

This training grounds is used for teaching the sword and spear with actual combat in mind.

Although they paid taxes to the country, when it comes down to it, they have to protect themselves.

The country tries to prevent and hunt down bandits, but it cannot completely stop them from causing harm.

It’s common to hear about villages being assaulted and thus it is necessary to prepare in case bandits showed up.

So former soldiers took the lead and formed the village guards. They are not part time volunteers, this is an official job in the village.

Those that returned from the army often became a guard and instead of hunting or mining, they spent their time teaching the village’s adults and children how to use a sword.

Sword training was compulsory for all men and open to any women interested. Naturally, Krische also participated.

When it comes down to it, only you can protect yourself, this was obvious thinking for Krische.

Although Grace opposed at first, Gallen and Gorka hesitantly permitted it, deciding that with Krische’s appearance, it would be better for her to be able to protect herself??but now, nobody said anything about her participation in the training.

That was because they now understood that she had an extraordinary talent for swordsmanship.

The people were gathered in a ring around an old man and a silver-haired girl??Krische.

Though the sound of something cutting through the air was constantly heard, the violent sound of wood on wood was absent.

The wooden swords they wielded never touched each other, not even touching the other’s sword, leaving only the sound of wooden swords cutting through the air.

“……!”

The old man facing Krische??Zaal had spent a long time in the army, serving as an instructor until he felt his strength wane.

Having taught light infantry, where the strength of the individual was important, there is no doubt in his ability.

Though he could not match the hero Gallen, who had climbed the ranks from foot soldier to centurion, he was the next highest in rank and ability in the village.

Such a man was now frightened by the abnormality of the girl facing him.

Zaal had learnt battlefield swordsmanship.

A style where the sword was occasionally used as a shield, then pushing back with brute force and causing the opponent to lose their balance before finishing them off.

A violent art meant purely for combat.

His technique had been refined through the process of taking many lives and had their weight behind it. It had a consistency that could not be matched with only some training.

Although his strength had waned, his techniques have not??but Krische easily avoided Zaal’s attacks.

Krische’s body was small and light even for her age, so there was no need for Zaal to land a direct hit.

He just needed to strike her sword.

With Krische’s light weight, her body would be knocked back together with her sword, causing her to lose her balance.

That was more reliable than aiming for Krische’s body, which was protected by the shield formed by the reach of her blade. The swordsmanship that Zaal had learnt was focused on using this very method to throw the opponent off balance and then taking them down.

The old soldier used all his skills against the girl facing him.

??but no matter what he tried, he could not even touch her sword.

This was like when he practicing against the instructor when he was a mere trainee??hitting nothing but air. It was not frustrating, it was terrifying.

Zaal had practiced with this girl many times and knew that she was not a normal girl.

But when an experienced soldier like himself feels like a girl around twelve or thirteen of age was toying with him, fear won over admiration.

To the others, it probably looked like he was holding back.

Krische was a child, their range, the reach of their blades were different.

So naturally, there is a certain distance where Krische could not completely avoid Zaal’s attacks, creating moments at which Krische would have to block with her sword.

But at those instants, Krische would keep him in check with a perfect strike.

At the precise timing when he is about to begin the movement, she would attack in a way that forced Zaal to dodge.

Instead of blocking his strike, she negated it by attacking.

All of Zaal’s attacks that could not be avoided were negated by Krische, leaving him helpless.

To the onlookers, Krische kept swinging her sword while Zaal continued dodging.

The very picture of a trainee and instructor.

But reality was the opposite and Zaal was certain of his loss. If Krische wished to, she could put an end to the bout immediately.

Krische was swapping her sword between her hands and also changed her stance.

Her acrobatic movements was like a beautiful dance.

An irregular yet fluent infinitely changing sword, but those infinite changes always led to the shortest strike to take down Zaal.

Efficient and indifferent, as if she were playing with her opponents life on the point of her sword.

Her movements were chaotic at first glance, but this is her style of swordsmanship, one that pursued efficiency and nothing else. Zaal knew how it began and how it has evolved.

Her sword was clumsy only at the very start, once past that, even adults did not want to be her opponent. They feared losing to a girl who was not even ten at the time.

Rather than talented, she was abnormal, she was beyond what Zaal could comprehend.

And most of all, Zaal feared those inhuman purple eyes staring at him.

It was as if they saw through Zaal’s slightest movements, the slightest tension in his body, his very thoughts.

Like a frog glared at by a snake (T/N: Deer in headlights), it made him feel powerless, like he was facing an opponent he could never beat.

??This is it.

Zaal took a large step back and lowered his sword.

“……that’s it. My stamina won’t hold any longer.”

Zaal declared between rough breaths.

Krische lowered her head expressionlessly and bowed, her cheeks only slightly flushed.

Krische’s beautiful figure as she bowed was somehow alluring, attracting the surrounding gazes even more than the sword dance before did.

“Thank you very much”

“……just tell me whenever you want to spar. Got it, Krische?”

“Okay.”

Krische nodded.

To Krische, this old man is a good sparring opponent.

During the previous spar, seventeen times. Before that, twelve times.

And today, twenty three times??this was training for how many times Krische could kill Zaal in a set amount of time.

As Zaal had imagined, it was easy for her to defeat him, but she had learnt that if she embarrasses her opponent by defeating them one-sidedly, they will refuse to spar her next time.

So Krische chose Zaal to spar with, the second best at the sword in the village, and let the match drag on so that she could train herself.

Gallen was the best at the sword but usually, he was busy working as a hunter and more importantly, he did not like wielding a sword.

So Zaal was Krische’s only training partner.

Sword training could not be done without a partner.

The speed gained from practice swings is nothing but physical speed.

If the point of using the sword was speed, you just need to hold it above your head and swing it down.

But she understood that in all kinds of melee combat, it was more important to be early.

(T/N: The word used for speed and early are the same, ??. physically fast vs time-wise fast)

So instead of looking for the fastest method, she looked for the shortest.

No matter if the sword was swung fast or slow, the one that has their blade at the opponent’s neck first is the victor.

All that was needed is the intelligence to see the shortest path according to the opponent’s movements and enough strength to thrust the sword through that path, through the opponent’s guard.

How to find this shortest path in different scenarios??that was the question, and to answer it, an opponent is indispensable.

Zaal had noticed Krische’s intentions and fears her, but still sparred with her without complaint, making him a very important person to her.

I have to cherish him, with that thought, Krische offered Zaal the leather canteen she had prepared.

“Please have a drink.”

Zaal hesitated for a moment before nodding, thanking her as he drank.

In Krische’s mind, people are distinctly sorted into two categories.

Whether they profited her, or not.

Her parents and grandfather are key examples of people that profited her. As long as the losses do not outweigh the gains, Krische would protect them.

If she was granted something, she would return it fully.

Showing kindness like that was something natural for Krische. She had learnt through her life here that this is how society works.

It is thanks to her mother, Grace’s efforts that Krische, with her abnormal morals, could fit into the village without much problem.

Grace had simply continued to shower Krische, who was abnormal, with love.

In exchange for her genius, Krische could not understand normal things the normal way.

Never giving up on her, Grace taught Krische carefully, over and over again, until Krische understood human relationships and how society worked.

Thanks to Grace, although imperfect, Krische could appear to lead a normal life.

“Krische nee-chan, spar with me next.”

(T/N: older sis)

“All right.”

Nodding to Pell, she raised her sword.

Compared to Zaal, his movements were slow and full of openings.

To teach him the correct movements, Krische did the opposite of before??she went on the defensive.

She intentionally moved slowly and created openings, got him to strike at them and dodged.

Compared to the previous time, he has improved, but his movements were still crude.

He’s skill was not enough to be considered among the village’s fighting strength.

Watching his swordplay, Krische was reminded of the two she had killed before.

Back then, she celebrated having rooted out the source of her displeasure, but she now considered it a failure.

??It was two years ago.

They were youths about the same age as Krische.

At that time, Krische had been receiving slight harassment from them, so she completely and utterly crushed them in practice.

Having been publicly shamed by a younger girl, instead of stopping their harassment or becoming motivated, their hatred of Krische grew. They spread rumours about Krische, calling her weird, a monster, ruining her reputation.

At first, Krische did not care, but soon she grew concerned about how other’s viewed her.

As the harassment grew worse, she decided to kill them. She murdered them both by setting a boar on them at a cliff.

It was a perfect crime with no evidence, but now she realised that it was rash.

At that time, Krische saw the world more narrowly, only considering things from her point of view, but now she has learnt a little more about society.

She has learnt how the village is run and what it needs.

From that perspective, all that learnt the sword served as future defendants of the village, and that included those two.

Compared to this youth, the two of them were relatively talented. Rather than killing them, it would have been better to work a little harder to appease their hatred of her.

It was a minor regret that was easily brushed off, but at least it made her unwilling to repeat the same actions.

That is the reason why Krische patiently teaches the village’s children how to wield a sword.

Krische had learnt, reflected and taken action, so she felt that things were going well. But she did not realise that many felt differently.

Zaal, the other adults and the youths that were familiar with the situation at the time were slightly suspicious, and fearful of Krische.

Without any evidence, there was no reason at all to suspect Krische for killing them.

At most, the only reason was that the two had hated her. That’s all.

But despite that, this suspicion that Krische disposed of them??once felt, could not be erased.

Krische was too perfect to be a normal child.

Because of how Krische saw being superior as a good thing, she did not notice the suspicions that arose from it.

“Come to think of it……Galo’s not coming again today?”

“Aah……did he drink and sleep in again?”

The man that Krische had killed yesterday??Galo, would never wake again.

Krische was confident that he would never be discovered and had no interest in that conversation.

But the adults and youths that suspected her naturally looked towards her, then at each other.

They all knew that Galo had been sexually harassing Krische.

But none of them said anything in particular and the gazes quickly disappeared.

Despite their suspicion, there was no proof, and in the first place, Galo was a lazy man.

The chances were high that he was just sleeping.

And most of all, despite their suspicions of Krische, the thought that this beautiful girl could not possibly have done such things won out.

They had seen how she acted with Grace and Gorka. Her parents and the womenfolk often bragged about how she was serious and hardworking.

Hearing those stories, they all decided they were thinking too much.

Krische’s current situation was maintained by this delicate balance.

“Oooi, the peddler’s here.”

That voice came from the village square??and Krische was the first to respond.

She immediately thrust the point of the wooden sword under the chin of the youth and forcing him to freeze.

“Ueh”

“That is all for today, Pell. You have improved a lot. That is all.”

She repeated herself with a quick pet on the head of the dissatisfied youth.

Then she looked towards Zaal.

“Zaal-san. Krische is done for today, Krische will be going to the square.”

“Mm? Aah……”

“Thank you for the training.”

Right after a deep, polite bow to everyone else, Krische dashed off to the village square.

Krische was gone in an instant, leaving the men looking at each other in confusion.

Then they remembered how Krische would look at the ingrediants the peddler brought with shining eyes and denied their previous thoughts, once again burying their suspicions in the depths of their minds.

In the middle of the village square, there was a large communal well.

Many families drew water from forest streams but those that lived in the middle of the village, away from the forest, drew their daily water here.

Thus it was established that the area around should be kept clear and this created a relative open area in the unorganised village.

The exceptions to this rule was visitors from outside or when there was an important announcement.

Visits by peddlers, minstrels and performers fell under the former and the peddler that came by today had settled in a corner of the square and was spreading his wares.

In a village with little entertainment, this was their only contact with the outside world.

Visitors like this was their main source of entertainment.

A crowd had already gathered around and Krische, with her small build on top of her young age, could not peek in no matter how much she tiptoed.

Pouting, she sat on a nearby barrel and sharpened her ears.

Although there were slight differences due to weather, peddlers visited at a set interval.

For this village in particular, there were two peddlers that would visit once a week.

They had come by two days ago, so this should be a different trader than the usual one, and she was right.

The intonation of the peddler’s words were slightly different.

The reaction of the villagers were also different.

Since the usual peddler mainly brought the same goods, Krische looked forward to this kind of unexpected visitor.

There was usually something novel in the things they brought.

Krische swung her feet, kicking at the the barrel, waiting for the crowd to disappear.

Her mind was full of expectations for new ingredients and as is often the case, she lost her objectivity when food is involved, failing to notice her poor manner.

“Fufu, come on. Don’t swing your feet like that, Krische.”

Just as Krische turned in response to the familiar voice, Grace poked Krische’s slightly puffed cheeks with a laugh.

Puhyuu, the air escaped with a sound and the women behind Grace joined in the laughter.

It was then that Krische finally noticed her actions and blushed.

“Come on, no need to sulk just because you can’t get in. It ruins your cute face.”

“Kaa-sama. Er……hello aunties……”

Hopping off the barrel, Krische lowered her head towards Grace and the other women, still embarrassed.

Their laughter redoubled as they came closer to Krische and took turns patting her head.

“Ahaha, Krische’s so cute. You always look so impatient whenever the peddler comes.”

“Yeah. Come on little glutton, tell us your secret for staying so thin.”

The women laughed, knowing what Krische was here for, making Krische blush even harder.

The women here are Grace’s friends and know how hardworking Krische was.

In their opinion, Krische is a kind, obedient and caring girl.

Even though she is at the age where she should want to play, Krische voluntarily helped them with their work. She was beautiful, caring, hardworking, a charming girl that was everything they could ask for.

To them, her desire for food was not a flaw, it was the childish part of an otherwise perfect child, yet another charm point.

And she even grew to enjoy cooking because of that, many of them wanted her to marry into their families.

From Krische’s point of view, she voluntarily helped the womenfolk because of the valuable sweets they would give her as reward.

Krische’s popularity among the women was high, but they failed to realise that the reality was similar to an owner rewarding a dog with treats.

Among the womenfolk, the rumours of Krische’s abnormality was laughed off, treated as nonsense by stupid men who were attracted by Krische’s beauty.

For better or worse, the womenfolk’s misunderstanding was the reason Krische’s abnormality is not openly discussed and although Krische was not aware, the women have done a lot to protect her.

“Okay then, I’ll bring you along.”

“Eh? Wah……”

The sturdiest among them, Galla lifted Krische onto her shoulders and pushed through the crowd towards the peddler.

“Look here, the most beautiful woman and girl in the village passing through. Make way make way.”

Her powerful voice split the crowd and Galla easily made it to the peddler with Krische on her shoulder.

The laid out wares and the men came into sight and Krische felt something was off for an instant.

“Oh my oh my……not bad.”

The owner and assistant looked friendly.

The four tough-looking men were probably guards.

They were unfamiliar faces but there was a familiar smell.

The smell of blood.

Without showing any sign of it in her expression, Krische absentmindedly thought about what it meant.

??Animal or human?

There is no characteristic animal smell. Probably human. From yesterday.

??Why is there the smell?

Because they killed people.

??Were they attacked by bandits?

But nobody is injured.

In fact, these men were the killers.

Krische stared at the assortment of wares.

The carriage is completely different and most of the wares are unfamiliar, but the trunk and pumpkins covered with a cloth are definitely the ones from the day before.

The positions of the scars are exactly the same.

These men killed the peddlers from the day before.

That was the natural conclusion.

The main form of trade in the village is bartering.

Since peddlers usually sold wholesale, only the village head, artisans and shop keepers had the money for that, other villagers only had small change.

‘They left yesterday? That was unlucky.‘

Krische had heard those words when she had been listening from on top of the barrel just now.

The wares laid out were only small accessories, clean fruits and vegetables, things the villagers could buy with their small change. There were also some made of precious metals but not many were affordable.

The mountain of foodstuff on the carriage is probably just a show for the villagers.

As Krische was being lowered to the ground, she observed the men.

They were all smiling, but Krische noticed a glint in their eyes as they looked at her.

“Little fairy lady, anything catch your eye?”

“Oh my, how about me? Am I naiad?”

Laughter spread and the men smiled dryly.

Krische did not care about their gazes. She was used to being looked at that way.

While wondering what their objective was, she decided to prioritise what she wanted and spoke.

“Can I take a look at the pumpkins?”

“Pumpkins? Ah……”

The assistant removed the cloth, revealing the small mound of pumpkins.

Although she got by with rabbit soup for dinner yesterday, Krische was in the mood for pumpkin.

Picking out a solid pumpkin packed with seeds, she smiled in satisfaction and asked for the price. The price the peddler presented was quite cheap.

“Really?”

“Yeah. You must be quite a good girl to ask for a pumpkin. Have this too, it’s service.”

Saying that, the man opened a cloth bag and showed Krische the contents.

Inside were small light brown spheres.

“Try one.”

Krische hesitated a little, then decided they were probably not poisoned.

With that thought, she picked one out and threw it into her mouth.

“……sweet.”

“It’s candy. Is it the first time you’ve had one?”

It was a sweet candy with a slightly sour taste.

Krische nodded as she rolled the candy around on her tongue, then lowered her head to thank the man.

The sweetness in her mouth was new to Krische and she no longer cared if they had killed the peddlers.

To Krische, the peddlers were just a system.

She saw them every time they came, so she remembered them.

But she was not interested in their death.

“Oh my……sorry about that. Thank you.”

At some point, Grace had caught up and also lowered her head in thanks, resting a hand on Krische’s head.

As her title as most beautiful in the village suggests, Grace was attractive??Krische could feel the men’s gazes gather on Grace as she enjoyed the blissful feeling on her head.

“Ah, ma’am, another beauty. Is there anything you would like? I’ll give you a discount.”

“Oh my, that’s nice of you. Krische, is there anything else you want?”

Thinking a little, Krische shook her head at the question.

Krische always got the bare minimum, never spending excessively.

They had a stock of vegetables and there was nothing else in particular that she wanted.

At most, she wanted another pumpkin, but she refrained from that excess.

“Krische just wanted to have pumpkin soup today.”

“Fufu, I see. Err, let’s see……mm, nothing comes to mind right now, do you mind if I come back tomorrow morning?”

“Of course, no problem. I can never refuse the request of a beautiful woman.”

“You flatter me. Come, Krische, let’s go.”

Hugging the pumpkin, Krische nodded as she sucked on the candy.

Seeing her like this, Grace let out a small laugh and took the pumpkin, tucking it under her arm before joining hands with Krische.

Grace’s hand was warm.

Krische smiled a little and followed Grace out of the square.

“If you can’t refuse the request of beautiful women then you’ll listen to mine too right?”

The sturdily-built woman confidently declared that and the other women started to chime in too.

As she listened to their voices, Krische thoughts focused on how to cook the pumpkin.

Although there was plenty of rock salt, sugar is a valuable commodity in the village.

There are fruits and cookies with nuts, but there still aren’t many sweet foods.

The sweetness of pumpkins was unique in this area and being able to make something different from the usual salt-based soups made pumpkins an extremely attractive ingredient for Krische.

Krische gently and carefully stewed the cut pumpkin so that it did not lose its shape while she kneaded flour with butter, to which she added pumpkin paste, making batter for a pie.

She then borrowed a neighbour’s oven to bake the pie and as she stared at it while waiting, Krische subconsciously started humming.

“Fufu, you’re in an extra good mood today. That’s quite a treat you’re making.”

“Yes. Krische missed the chance to buy pumpkin two days ago and really wanted to eat pumpkin. ……ehehe, thank you for the oven.”

“Ahaha, you can come borrow it anytime. It’s nothing in exchange for getting to eat Krische’s cooking.”

Galla laughed cheerfully.

Left a widow and losing her child in an accident, Krische was her only comfort.

Not knowing that Krische had taken the life of her beloved child, Galla showered the love meant for her son on Krische.

Krische, despite taking away Galla’s happiness in life, accepted Galla’s love with a smile.

Krische felt no guilt.

This extremely twisted relationship did not disturb Krische at all.

“……I wish I could have let him taste this, even just a bite. I’m so sorry, Krische. That stupid son of mine went off without apologising.”

For an instant, Krische wondered who Galla was talking about, then remembered the two boys.

Which one was the son, Krische wondered.

Krische generally did not forget things, but she did not care to remember things she had no interest in so she took a while to recall them.

Interpreting Krische’s silence wrongly, Galla’s smiled wryly and apologised.

“……I get more sentimental the older I get. Forgive me.”

“Not Galla’s fault. Krische does not mind……are you okay?”

“Yeah……Krische’s here for me after all.”

Krische really did not mind, she did not care.

There was slight regret but the feeling of relief was greater.

Krische had wanted to use an oven for cooking and the only neighbour who had one was Galla, whom Krische had known since young.

Galla was known for her sturdy build and strong will, but her grief when Krische had killed her child was so great that there was talk that she might commit suicide.

Of course, Krische was not particularly concerned about that.

To Krische, she simply killed an unpleasant child. It was justified and she felt no guilt.

But during that period time, she had been absorbed in cooking using an oven, so she spent days comforting Galla as she used the oven??to the bystander, it looked like a diligent girl checking up on Galla everyday.

The story of Krische and Galla was a moving tale in the village.

Galla believed most in that story, having experienced it herself. So she doted on Krische, the one who had killed her beloved son.

There was no one to point out how twisted the situation was.

Krische, the heroine of the story, did not care, she just innocently visited Galla.

“Would oba-san like to eat at Krische’s house too?” (T/N: Auntie)

“I would love to……but won’t that cause trouble for Grace?”

“Kaa-sama said to invited oba-san. Krische is also happier if everyone eats it while warm.”

Krische wanted to hear Galla’s impressions and the night was cold.

In the time between cutting the pie and hearing Galla’s opinion, the pie would grow cold, so it was more convenient for Krische for everyone to eat together.

Krische’s invitation was entirely selfish, but since her words were roundabout, Galla interpreted them positively.

“……Krische, you’re really such a good girl. In that case I guess I’ll join you for dinner.”

“Okay, this is also thanks for carrying me.”

“Haha, I’ll have to give you a ride every time the peddler comes then.”

Krische smiled as she waited for the pie to bake.

Galla watched over Krische warmly.

The village was filled with twisted pretenses centered around Krische

Galla removed the pie from the oven and transferred it to a plate, treating it like a treasure. She then covered it with a cloth to keep it from going cold as she brought it over.

Krische’s parents and grandfather were already assembled in the house and warmly welcomed the two of them.

The sun had already set and the veil of night had descended outside, but the flames warming the bubbling pot brightly lit the earthen walls around them.

“Kaa-sama, the fire is too strong……”

“Sor, sorry……I’m not good at controlling it.”

Krische was proud of her pumpkin soup.

It just needed to be warmed a little before eating, but Grace was clumsy.

The soup bubbled as it continued boiling while Grace attempted to adjust the flames.

Krische watched Grace uneasily while cutting the pie before finally putting down the knife and held a hand out for the fire tongs.

“E, er……Kaa-sama, Krische will do that, so can you cut the pie?”

“Okay……”

The other three laughed at Grace’s weak voice??

“……?”

??Bandits! Bandits are coming!

The scream echoed into the night.

“……!”

The first to react was Gallen.

Knocking the pot over, he extinguished the brilliant flames that had been illuminating the room.

Next Gorka picked up the short sword and bow leaning against the wall.

Their expressions were serious??

“E, eh……Krishe’s soup……”

Bashun, Juuu.

Seeing her long-awaited pumpkin soup used to extinguish the fire, Krische froze.

Krische stared at what was once her pumpkin soup, stunned, the bliss that had awaited her was ruined.

“Grace, Galla. Y’all hide……got it?”

Gallen’s low voice did not allow any rebuttal.

“Leave Grace and Krische-chan to me, Gallen.”

“Otou-san……”

Galla replied to Gallen as she hugged the frozen Krische closer.

Grace responded a moment later and called out to her father in a trembling voice as she also embraced Krische.

“I’ll take a look around as I get my weapon. Gorka, take care of them.”

“Ah, got it……be careful. I don’t want to have to see Grace and Krische cry.”

“I know. I may be old, but I’ve survived the battlefield. I’m not that weak.”

Gallen approached the sliding door without a sound and slowly opened it.

After checking the surroundings, he silently slid out into the night.

Gorka quickly approached the door and looked outside through the gap.

“Pumpkin……Krische’s soup, went, bashan……”

“It, it’s okay Krische-chan……there’s still half a pumpkin, oba-san will buy you more pumpkins the next time the peddler comes. The oven is also effectively Krische-chan’s.”

Speaking quickly, Galla tried maintain a calming tone for Krische.

Having looked forward to it so much, Krische’s shock was proportionally large and she had yet to recover from it.

Seeing Krische still staring at what was once her soup, Galla concluded that Krische was still confused by the situation and continued stroking her head to comfort her.

“Ye, yes that’s right, again……just make it again……make it again.”

Still stunned, Krische tried to turn away from the shock by focusing on the comfortable feeling on her head.

“Grace, is the store full?”

“Eh? Ah……it’s not, that full, Krische?”

Pumpkin, Krische’s pumpkin??

The image of the soup being knocked over looped again and again in Krische’s mind.

Krische tried desperately to turn her eyes away from that image and focused on Galla’s question.

“Er, er……yes. But, not empty enough for everyone to hide in.”

In place of her mother who was too confused to understand the meaning behind Galla’s words, Krische gave an accurate answer.

“Gorka, if it comes to it, I am your wife. Grace and Krische-chan are too pretty. You’d never know what’ll happen to them if they’re captured.”

“Galla, what’re you??”

“Listen. I owe a debt that I can never repay to both you and Krische-chan. And unlike you, I have nothing to lose. Do you understand?”

“……!”

Silence descended for a moment, then Gorka nodded.

“Thanks Galla, sorry……”

“It’s fine, Gorka…… Grace, go below with Krische.”

“……okay.”

Galla urged Grace and Krische downstairs.

Not a bad plan if they act well.

With that absentminded thought, Krische grabbed two kitchen knives. She preferred not to be empty handed.

“……Krische-chan. That’s a good mindset, but don’t think of doing anything stupid. No matter what happens to us, do not open the door until we say so. That is a last resort, okay?”

“……yes. Oba-san too, please be careful. Krische still wants to use the oven……”

“Fufu, you’re still brave enough to joke in this situation. Oba-san’s relieved by that.”

Krische meant it literally, but Galla laughed, taking it as a joke.

Galla pushed the two of them into the food store constructed below the house, shut the door and hid it with a rug.

“Krische, everything will be fine, everything will be okay……”

While listening to Grace’s trembling voice, Krische sharpened her ears.

Underground, she could clearly hear the sound of hooves.

The horses were far.

Based on the direction, they should be from the village square.

They don’t seem to be coming close to the forest, close to this house.

After a while, Gallen returned.

There was a quick discussion and it was decided that if the bandits came, it was better for Gallen to hide in the forest and flank them rather then wait in the house, so Gallen quickly left again.

Since Grace’s trembling was becoming an annoyance, Krische tried to comfort her, telling her that the horses were far.

Krische waited for time to pass.

An hour, two hours, time passed, Krische endured her hunger.

The pumpkin that should be in Krische’s stomach is gone.

Bashun, juuu, used to extinguish the fire.

What did Krische’s pumpkin ever do?

At a certain point, sleepiness overcame hunger.

Stifling her yawns, Krische snuggled into Grace’s chest, biting on her lips.

Perhaps because of the narrow space and Grace’s tight embrace, it was a very warm and comfortable environment.

The conditions were perfect for sleeping, but the situation did not allow for that.

Logic fought against pumpkins and sleepiness for hours.

All clear, it was a long while later that they heard that voice.

A villager finally came and told them the bandits had retreated.

Galla removed the things that she had stacked on top the door and opened it, pulling Krische and Grace into her arms, tears streaming down her face.

Krische finally gave up on fighting sleepiness, escaping from her hunger by diving deep into sleep.

-End-

No Krische is not unstable. She just thinks differently. She fights pumpkins while others fights bandits.